In this post I will be copping to some character flaws (schadenfreude, mostly) in order to make my point clear. I ask you not to judge, but you will. That is what this post is about.
Why is there less camaraderie, tolerance, encouragement, and support among mothers than there really ought to be? We're all just here doing the same stuff and only in slightly different ways. When I am out somewhere and my child is dressed and wearing shoes, did you know that if I see a disheveled child going barefoot I kind of like it because it makes me feel like a good mom--a better mom? That's not good. I don't really care about the barefoot child because going barefoot isn't the end of the world. Sometimes I'm the mom whose kids wouldn't wear shoes that day. I always hated it when people gave me grief over my kids' pacifiers. I think our longest went for almost three years. (There. I've said it.) Why do people care if my child has a pacifier? Do they really care? Are they really worried? I don't think they are. And yet, when I see a 4 or 5 year old with a pacifier I think to myself, "Hmmmm. That's a mistake."
Of course there are true mistakes to make in parenting. And maybe having a pacifier until the age of 5 is one of them. But why do we care what other people are doing with their kids? If it were really out of concern for the well-being of that child then it's great and nice. That does happen. But I think most of the time we notice and comment because it makes us feel superior. But I don't know why. Men don't seem to do that about fathering. In fact, I know that Christian has never EVER felt bad or even thought about what other people (except me) think of his parenting. Formula. Nursing. Cloth diapers. Homemade babyfoood. Lessons. Co-Sleeping. Epidurals. Tantrums. Allowance. Time Out. Sugar. Naps. None of it. And when our kids throw fits at church or misbehave he certainly gets mad and doesn't like it but not because he is embarrassed. His self-worth is not all tied up in having a Christmas photo where everyone matches.
I also know that while I get really great advice from close friends and family and even blogs and books, I am a better mother and a happier person the less I care what people think about my mothering. Because so much of it is unhelpful since not everyone knows where I'm coming from. For example, people have a hard time with my weird and shy kids--especially when they were younger. But they don't know that as difficult as someone like, oh, my son Ben, for example can be, I would rather deal with him than an obnoxious, loud-talking show off. Well-meaning folks think I'm trying to solve one problem but really I'm working on something else. Has that ever been the case for you? It's like how I'm reading Barbara Kingsolver's book about eating only local food in season and I'm thinking oh, honey--I'm just trying to go through less than a box of ding dongs a day.
And then there's the explaining, the defensiveness, the treatises on blogs, the self-congratulation, the posting of menus, the bragging, the nit-picking, the sideways glances, the expectant look I get from a stranger in line when they see my daughter hit me and I think, "Ugh. They are expecting me to discipline her in a certain way," so I engage in "loud parenting" to show that I'm a good parent but if they weren't there I would do something entirely different. It's weird, isn't it?
Do we do it because we are insecure? I am guessing that's why. I also postulate that culture, society, and religion has put mothering on a pedestal in a way that they haven't done to fathering so when we are bad at it or do it in our own way there is a LOT at stake. If being a mom is a divine calling (and it is--I do believe that) then having shoes on your kid in public can take on some crazy significance. It's hard to take it seriously and not judge other people. Maybe we put so much thought and effort and concern into it that it really throws us when someone decides making homemade baby food isn't really worth their time. Maybe?
I just wish people would validate me all the time for all the great things I do and give me a break when I'm lazy or tired. That's what I want. And surprise visits (with no expectation that I will have showered) with a big--no a HUGE--Diet Coke from Sonic from people who think I'm funny and smart is also what I want. But of course, we've all sworn off of soda in order to run our marathons, haven't we.
Wednesday, March 30, 2011
Monday, March 28, 2011
Coming Around Again
A few days ago I saw this old guy riding his bike around my neighborhood. He's the dad of a guy I went to high school with. He was riding a 10-speed and wearing a suit that indie musicians would gladly pay a lot of money for. He is over 6 feet tall and thin. He probably shops at local stores and eats whole foods, most of the time. This man is nice enough but has never been "cool." Look at him now! He's a total hipster. It only took 50 years. Everything people used to do because they were poor is totally in style now. It's weird.
I'm tired of following the trends. I finally got three pair of boot-cut jeans I like and now it's all about the skinny jeans. Talk about intimidating. In the 80s we at least had the decency to refer to them as "pegged." It's like the kids are rubbing it in our apple-shaped faces. I think I may just stick with what I like and wait for 50 years to be cool. I can live with that. What I like is eating ding dongs, rolling up my pants, having short spiky hair, and wearing frosted pink lipstick.
Maybe it seems unlikely that I will ever really be back in style but just think of it--no one would have thought being a lurpy old-bike riding guy who brown bags a tuna sandwich every day would be in style either. He just had to ride out the whole mercury thing. I expect the same with ding dongs.
I'm tired of following the trends. I finally got three pair of boot-cut jeans I like and now it's all about the skinny jeans. Talk about intimidating. In the 80s we at least had the decency to refer to them as "pegged." It's like the kids are rubbing it in our apple-shaped faces. I think I may just stick with what I like and wait for 50 years to be cool. I can live with that. What I like is eating ding dongs, rolling up my pants, having short spiky hair, and wearing frosted pink lipstick.
Maybe it seems unlikely that I will ever really be back in style but just think of it--no one would have thought being a lurpy old-bike riding guy who brown bags a tuna sandwich every day would be in style either. He just had to ride out the whole mercury thing. I expect the same with ding dongs.
Sunday, March 27, 2011
I Met the Author of The Book Thief Last Night and it Was Special
Let me make something clear: I would (and did, before I knew) love Markus Zusak even if he were ugly. I would love him if we were old and disfigured or a woman with bad breath and by love I mean respect, appreciate, esteem, and admire. It doesn't matter to me. I'm in--I'm all in--with anyone who could write The Book Thief.
I was prepared to be a little disappointed. What if he's a jerk? What if he's not funny? What if writing the book was a fluke? What if he just got really, really lucky writing the book but in real life he's kind of a thoughtless buffoon? As it turns out, he is delightful, insightful, modest, entertaining, charming, obliging, appreciative, interesting, and unpretentious. He read the exact passage I had re-read the night before and he got a little choked up. It was a genuine treat. At that moment I thought, "Right now is what I love. This is my favorite. Other times I'm bored or stressed out or depressed or not having fun but right now is just what I like."
It was great to be there with hundreds of people who love the book as much as I do--my peeps, if you will. When Zusak came in, I couldn't believe he could write such a soulful book because he is so young and slight. It's kind of like how I don't really expect skinny people to be good moms. I only got fat after I started having kids so my mom-gravitas is all tied up with being chubby. It's incorrect, of course. Then again, if I'd been thin the whole time I've been a mom maybe I would never have become as humble and selfless as I am now. A body shaper has been my crucible. But I didn't tell Markus Zusak that!
He signed 5 books for me, which was nice. Of course, I did wait in line for two hours. We talked about a lot of interesting things, Markus Zusak and I. You should have been there. But you can still read The Book Thief. It's set in Nazi Germany, narrated by death, almost everyone dies, and it's over 500 pages long. Enjoy.
I was prepared to be a little disappointed. What if he's a jerk? What if he's not funny? What if writing the book was a fluke? What if he just got really, really lucky writing the book but in real life he's kind of a thoughtless buffoon? As it turns out, he is delightful, insightful, modest, entertaining, charming, obliging, appreciative, interesting, and unpretentious. He read the exact passage I had re-read the night before and he got a little choked up. It was a genuine treat. At that moment I thought, "Right now is what I love. This is my favorite. Other times I'm bored or stressed out or depressed or not having fun but right now is just what I like."
It was great to be there with hundreds of people who love the book as much as I do--my peeps, if you will. When Zusak came in, I couldn't believe he could write such a soulful book because he is so young and slight. It's kind of like how I don't really expect skinny people to be good moms. I only got fat after I started having kids so my mom-gravitas is all tied up with being chubby. It's incorrect, of course. Then again, if I'd been thin the whole time I've been a mom maybe I would never have become as humble and selfless as I am now. A body shaper has been my crucible. But I didn't tell Markus Zusak that!
Wednesday, March 23, 2011
Give Yourself Prudence and Love Your Friends: A Playlist that Teaches Values
Why not let music impart your values? That's what I do because I didn't go on a mission. I find it very very easy to be true when listening to this play list. Enjoy! And most importantly, don't be a drag just be a queen.
Monday, March 21, 2011
Read This
Have you been perusing cute and glamorous blogs all day of thin, trendily-dressed women with adorable babies and pristine mid-century-modern-inspired but homey homes? Here's something. Today I went into the office to watch a video my kids wanted to show me. I smelled cat urine and saw that Snoopy the cat had been left in the office with the door shut and had gone to the bathroom in a little white plastic container I keep on the floor in the office for "recycling." You might think it would take a while to trace the scent and figure out what happened but it didn't because it happened once before. There. Feel great about yourself!
Here's what my kids wanted to show me. Check out the whole series--we quote something from it daily.
Here's what my kids wanted to show me. Check out the whole series--we quote something from it daily.
Friday, March 18, 2011
Momness Part 2: Role Models
I've mentioned that I have style role models. They are Amanda Peet, Selma Blair, Franka Potente, and Maggy Gyllenhaall.
They are all close to my age and I think they're cool. But I probably wouldn't take parenting advice from them. Movie stars tend to be a little, oh what's the word, shallow. But these ladies are going to usher me into middle age impeccably--just you watch.
What follows is an annotated list of parenting role models and the good bits of Momness I've picked up from them. It's yours--I give it freely.
Harry and Barbara Terrill: Barbara was the first real friend I made as a mom. After we had Sam we moved to Tampa for 6 months of training for Price Waterhouse. I was housebound with no friends and a huge box of books and notes for the Master's Thesis I hadn't written yet. This was before blogs. It was depressing. Looking back I see now that I was depressed. If you just had a baby you probably are too even if you don't know it. So take it easy. After Tampa we moved to California where I met Barbara. She was encouraging and interesting and upbeat and wise. Her daughters babysat for me while I finished my thesis. Harry was our bishop and he was hard-working, smart, literary and a democrat with 6 kids. Barbara taught me how to be and have friends as a mom. Turns out, all it takes is a cordless phone.
Barbara shared some of Harry's insights on parenting with me and the thing I remember most from him is that fear is the opposite of faith. There's so much to worry about as a parent like crib death and obesity and sun damage and money and vitamins. It can be debilitating. It's hard to let go of the worry. In fact, at times the worry itself is what we think makes us good parents. Now, I'm not saying to be a big dummy about stuff but parent with faith instead of fear. Bad stuff might still happen. But being afraid doesn't help. All the Terrills are awesome and like each other. I hope my kids do too, although it's not looking so good right now. Eliza Terrill turned me on to blogging. Pheobe, Bonnie, and Hannah all blog as well. I bought the same car Bonnie has. I'm highly suggestible.
Mark and Julie Magleby: These guys were and are pretty formative in my momness. Julie's wise council to prepare the child for the path since you can't prepare the path for the child has helped me almost as much as her advice to buy candy for General Conference. Do both of these things and you're pretty much set. Mark is probably the best dad I know. When you are punishing your adorable little 2 year old for not making their bed think of Mark's advice to make "deposits" in your children's "accounts" as often as you can because when they are older you are going to have to start making some serious "withdrawals." You don't have to be the most permissive parent in the world but it really is harder to spoil them than you think.
Kelly Erickson: My neighbor, Kelly, told me a couple years ago that it is important to persuade your kids to do good--entice them to do good. When kids get bigger you can't pick them up and put them where you want them and sometimes it's hard to get them to do stuff. It's easy to think, well, they have a right to choose. It's free agency. Of course that is true but since we know that bad choices are often made to look enticing we must be there to talk them into doing good things. I studied Rhetoric in graduate school so I am very interested in the art of persuasion. Sometimes it's bad and manipulative but there are also good things which we can talk people into doing for good and right reasons. There's nothing wrong with it. It is the ultimate in parenting, I think. You know what they say, "Butter and honey shall he eat, that he may know to refuse the evil, and choose the good." I think we'll have butter and honey tonight for dinner, in fact. Kelly also coined the phrase, "Head, bed, dressed, no mess" to summarize her rules for showing up at the breakfast table.
Carly Paul: Honor quirks and pick your battles. I like Carly's kids. She'll be raising mine if I die. She's got pizazz.
Lisa Clark: Lisa has taught me that when it comes to mothering and housekeeping you just have to do it. There's really no way around it. You can have systems and motivation and all that but you still have to get up with kids at night and do dishes during the day. She looks cute every day, keeps a nice house, raises 5 likable kids, does PTA, runs marathons, stars in commercials, and babysits other people's kids--all with little fanfare because she makes it seem effortless. Well, it's not. Her life is her lesson.
My Mom: My mom was and is great. She worked full time for a dentist when we needed braces, worked full time at BYU when we needed college, and also made a roast every Sunday, sewed Easter dresses, made Christmas a huge deal, did every church calling 100%, never criticized me about what I wore or ate, built me a sandbox, had a business license and went to craft shows, made rocking chairs out of pvc pipe, took care of her parents when they got old, taught me to ride a horse, laughed at my jokes, bought us all Def Leppard t-shirts, sang out-loud duets with Elvis Presley and Neil Diamond, was in love with Tom Jones, still leaves Valentines on my front porch, buried all my dogs, wallpapered over concrete walls (twice) in my bedroom, drove a 20-foot Ryder truck to LA, mailed me an exer-saucer, dug post holes for my fence, and makes really good fudge. I hope I don't have to do all that to be a good mom because I'm much lazier than she is. We all have things we are working on.
Just a little more Momness for you--we're all in this together so feel free to share your own bits of momness.
They are all close to my age and I think they're cool. But I probably wouldn't take parenting advice from them. Movie stars tend to be a little, oh what's the word, shallow. But these ladies are going to usher me into middle age impeccably--just you watch.
What follows is an annotated list of parenting role models and the good bits of Momness I've picked up from them. It's yours--I give it freely.
Harry and Barbara Terrill: Barbara was the first real friend I made as a mom. After we had Sam we moved to Tampa for 6 months of training for Price Waterhouse. I was housebound with no friends and a huge box of books and notes for the Master's Thesis I hadn't written yet. This was before blogs. It was depressing. Looking back I see now that I was depressed. If you just had a baby you probably are too even if you don't know it. So take it easy. After Tampa we moved to California where I met Barbara. She was encouraging and interesting and upbeat and wise. Her daughters babysat for me while I finished my thesis. Harry was our bishop and he was hard-working, smart, literary and a democrat with 6 kids. Barbara taught me how to be and have friends as a mom. Turns out, all it takes is a cordless phone.
Barbara shared some of Harry's insights on parenting with me and the thing I remember most from him is that fear is the opposite of faith. There's so much to worry about as a parent like crib death and obesity and sun damage and money and vitamins. It can be debilitating. It's hard to let go of the worry. In fact, at times the worry itself is what we think makes us good parents. Now, I'm not saying to be a big dummy about stuff but parent with faith instead of fear. Bad stuff might still happen. But being afraid doesn't help. All the Terrills are awesome and like each other. I hope my kids do too, although it's not looking so good right now. Eliza Terrill turned me on to blogging. Pheobe, Bonnie, and Hannah all blog as well. I bought the same car Bonnie has. I'm highly suggestible.
Mark and Julie Magleby: These guys were and are pretty formative in my momness. Julie's wise council to prepare the child for the path since you can't prepare the path for the child has helped me almost as much as her advice to buy candy for General Conference. Do both of these things and you're pretty much set. Mark is probably the best dad I know. When you are punishing your adorable little 2 year old for not making their bed think of Mark's advice to make "deposits" in your children's "accounts" as often as you can because when they are older you are going to have to start making some serious "withdrawals." You don't have to be the most permissive parent in the world but it really is harder to spoil them than you think.
Kelly Erickson: My neighbor, Kelly, told me a couple years ago that it is important to persuade your kids to do good--entice them to do good. When kids get bigger you can't pick them up and put them where you want them and sometimes it's hard to get them to do stuff. It's easy to think, well, they have a right to choose. It's free agency. Of course that is true but since we know that bad choices are often made to look enticing we must be there to talk them into doing good things. I studied Rhetoric in graduate school so I am very interested in the art of persuasion. Sometimes it's bad and manipulative but there are also good things which we can talk people into doing for good and right reasons. There's nothing wrong with it. It is the ultimate in parenting, I think. You know what they say, "Butter and honey shall he eat, that he may know to refuse the evil, and choose the good." I think we'll have butter and honey tonight for dinner, in fact. Kelly also coined the phrase, "Head, bed, dressed, no mess" to summarize her rules for showing up at the breakfast table.
Carly Paul: Honor quirks and pick your battles. I like Carly's kids. She'll be raising mine if I die. She's got pizazz.
Lisa Clark: Lisa has taught me that when it comes to mothering and housekeeping you just have to do it. There's really no way around it. You can have systems and motivation and all that but you still have to get up with kids at night and do dishes during the day. She looks cute every day, keeps a nice house, raises 5 likable kids, does PTA, runs marathons, stars in commercials, and babysits other people's kids--all with little fanfare because she makes it seem effortless. Well, it's not. Her life is her lesson.
My Mom: My mom was and is great. She worked full time for a dentist when we needed braces, worked full time at BYU when we needed college, and also made a roast every Sunday, sewed Easter dresses, made Christmas a huge deal, did every church calling 100%, never criticized me about what I wore or ate, built me a sandbox, had a business license and went to craft shows, made rocking chairs out of pvc pipe, took care of her parents when they got old, taught me to ride a horse, laughed at my jokes, bought us all Def Leppard t-shirts, sang out-loud duets with Elvis Presley and Neil Diamond, was in love with Tom Jones, still leaves Valentines on my front porch, buried all my dogs, wallpapered over concrete walls (twice) in my bedroom, drove a 20-foot Ryder truck to LA, mailed me an exer-saucer, dug post holes for my fence, and makes really good fudge. I hope I don't have to do all that to be a good mom because I'm much lazier than she is. We all have things we are working on.
Just a little more Momness for you--we're all in this together so feel free to share your own bits of momness.
Thursday, March 17, 2011
When Irish Eyes are Smiling or Can a Dog Have Pinkeye?
Happy St. Patrick's Day to my fellow Irishmen and Irish wannabes. Here's a picture of Ben, the most Irish of all my children because he had red hair when he was born, with cucumbers on his eyes after a long day at church. If you're not Mormon then you have NO IDEA how much time we spend there. It's a lot. We love it. But when we come home we know how to relax.
Last year I did a Give Away on St. Patricks Day. I gave away my luck. I just can't afford to give it away this year so instead I'm giving away this picture of my dog's eyes. In return I am asking for a diagnosis. See how one of them is swollen? What do you think that is? Please diagnose my dog's swollen eye in the comments. This Give Away closes Friday night at midnight. I really don't want to pay for a vet visit. The one I go to always rips me off.
Speaking of dogs, I've become obsessed with looking at dogs for sale on KSL.com. I don't really even want another dog (there's not enough hate in my heart, I don't think) but it is fascinating to see how people tackle the ultimate rhetorical challenge of trying to sell their dog while at the same time explaining why they don't want it anymore. I can't get enough of it. Some people are simply honest: "My wife is not turning out to be a dog-person" or "My husband will kill me when he sees that I've posted Jack!" Many people reveal personal details about their life: "Taking care of this dog costs more than I thought it would and I can't afford it." And there are almost always tales of dramatic adventure: "Being deployed in 2 days. Dog must go!" Some read like a badly written depression-era memoir: "Lost house. No room in trailer for dog." Some people post really long, emotional stories about their divorces. It's a scene, man. You should read it. I would be embarrassed if you knew how much time I spend reading it. Check out the "Free Pets" section too. That's where you'll find the people with the most heart.
I hope you enjoy St. Patrick's day and may you be in heaven half an hour before the devil knows you're dead (or in my dog's case, stricken with conjunctivitis)!
I hope you enjoy St. Patrick's day and may you be in heaven half an hour before the devil knows you're dead (or in my dog's case, stricken with conjunctivitis)!
Tuesday, March 15, 2011
Don't Get The Bachelor Angry. You Won't Like Him When He's Angry
Last night I enjoyed watching The Bachelor finale (and "finale" is not really a big enough word to capture just how long it was) with Lisa and Chris and Lisa's cousin, Julie. On the way out of my house I had to refer to it as "going to a meeting" to escape my 3 year old--all is fair in love and war, right ABC's The Bachelor? At one point during the evening I looked over and saw Chris getting a bare-skin massage from Julie. So that's how it is in their family. Maybe The Bachelor is more realistic than I once thought?
I love Brad and Emily. She is adorable. Part of what made me hate Brad throughout the season were the incorrect spoilers saying he picked Chantal. He always favored Emily, broke rules for her, and was nervous around her. I couldn't figure out why he would, in the end, go with Chantal unless it was just because she was easy. I really put myself out there with these spoilers. I allowed myself to trust them, which I haven't done in a LONG time. In the end I was hurt by the incorrect spoilers. But still. Do I have any regrets? No. I regret nothing. Everything happens for a reason. I would do everything exactly the same even though the spoilers were wrong and I made a fool of myself posing topless for Sports Illustrated. What can I say? The spoilers felt right.
I like Brad a lot more for choosing Emily, but everything I said about him being self-centered still stands. He thinks that telling Emily he wants to be a father to her child is a grand gesture worthy of--I don't know, worship? But when she tries to have an actual conversation with him about it instead of the Bachelor-patented exchange of cliches he got really mad and described her as "slapping him in the face." What about "putting yourself out there," Brad? It doesn't feel so good, does it.
Brad--a full 14 years older than Emily--has not proven to be exactly "easy going." You saw how quickly Emily jumped up to try to placate him with a drink of water. Scary! I pity Brad because I think he really believes he is sensitive, generous, and thoughtful. But I just don't see any indication that he is those things. Yes, all the ladies describe him as "amazing," but they also describe an experience where they made fools of themselves while living under house arrest before being humiliatingly kicked to the curb on camera as "amazing," so I question whether I'm on the same page with them, semantically.
Brad's gentle dismissal of Chantal was really sad. The whole thing is really sad and unnatural. After watching a full season of The Bachelor I can assert my original evaluation: It is hideous to watch in every way--from the first person to be sent home (how embarrassing!) to the last girl to be sent home (how embarrassing!) it is awful and sad and ridiculous and unpleasant. Brad's proposal to Emily was quite sweet and satisfying since I wanted him to choose her but even that was ruined by their inscrutable behavior on the after-show. They broke up but they're back together but Emily doesn't want to get married because of his temper and the tabloids but he's head over heals and they still consider themselves engaged. What? He must have slept with Chantal. That's the only thing that explains it. Emily hates watching the show and wishes Brad would have "saved something special that was just for her." I guess Brad never got the chastity lesson where they pass around a piece of gum with no wrapper to the whole class and then ask who wants to put it in their mouth and chew it. Brad is the gum. And his pects are wrapperless.
I still hope they get married. I can't help it. I love them as a couple. And I am so thrilled to see Brad making a fool of himself for Emily who is--maybe--just not that into him. It is satisfying. We'll see where making himself vulnerable (a trick he learned from Chantal) gets him. Who would have thought that dainty little southern belle had such a tasty sense of irony! I think we're all relieved that Brad and Emily have the entire Bachelor brain trust at their disposal for relationship advice. I'm just sorry I missed the first season when Trista married Ryan. Did she get some kind of kickback for choosing him? Like McDonalds gets for hiring disabled people?
Now, a lot of you have been asking if I will watch next season when Ashley H. of dental school notoriety takes her place as The Bachelorette. And the answer is, probably not. Because--guys--can't you see that I hate this show?
I love Brad and Emily. She is adorable. Part of what made me hate Brad throughout the season were the incorrect spoilers saying he picked Chantal. He always favored Emily, broke rules for her, and was nervous around her. I couldn't figure out why he would, in the end, go with Chantal unless it was just because she was easy. I really put myself out there with these spoilers. I allowed myself to trust them, which I haven't done in a LONG time. In the end I was hurt by the incorrect spoilers. But still. Do I have any regrets? No. I regret nothing. Everything happens for a reason. I would do everything exactly the same even though the spoilers were wrong and I made a fool of myself posing topless for Sports Illustrated. What can I say? The spoilers felt right.
I like Brad a lot more for choosing Emily, but everything I said about him being self-centered still stands. He thinks that telling Emily he wants to be a father to her child is a grand gesture worthy of--I don't know, worship? But when she tries to have an actual conversation with him about it instead of the Bachelor-patented exchange of cliches he got really mad and described her as "slapping him in the face." What about "putting yourself out there," Brad? It doesn't feel so good, does it.
Brad--a full 14 years older than Emily--has not proven to be exactly "easy going." You saw how quickly Emily jumped up to try to placate him with a drink of water. Scary! I pity Brad because I think he really believes he is sensitive, generous, and thoughtful. But I just don't see any indication that he is those things. Yes, all the ladies describe him as "amazing," but they also describe an experience where they made fools of themselves while living under house arrest before being humiliatingly kicked to the curb on camera as "amazing," so I question whether I'm on the same page with them, semantically.
Brad's gentle dismissal of Chantal was really sad. The whole thing is really sad and unnatural. After watching a full season of The Bachelor I can assert my original evaluation: It is hideous to watch in every way--from the first person to be sent home (how embarrassing!) to the last girl to be sent home (how embarrassing!) it is awful and sad and ridiculous and unpleasant. Brad's proposal to Emily was quite sweet and satisfying since I wanted him to choose her but even that was ruined by their inscrutable behavior on the after-show. They broke up but they're back together but Emily doesn't want to get married because of his temper and the tabloids but he's head over heals and they still consider themselves engaged. What? He must have slept with Chantal. That's the only thing that explains it. Emily hates watching the show and wishes Brad would have "saved something special that was just for her." I guess Brad never got the chastity lesson where they pass around a piece of gum with no wrapper to the whole class and then ask who wants to put it in their mouth and chew it. Brad is the gum. And his pects are wrapperless.
I still hope they get married. I can't help it. I love them as a couple. And I am so thrilled to see Brad making a fool of himself for Emily who is--maybe--just not that into him. It is satisfying. We'll see where making himself vulnerable (a trick he learned from Chantal) gets him. Who would have thought that dainty little southern belle had such a tasty sense of irony! I think we're all relieved that Brad and Emily have the entire Bachelor brain trust at their disposal for relationship advice. I'm just sorry I missed the first season when Trista married Ryan. Did she get some kind of kickback for choosing him? Like McDonalds gets for hiring disabled people?
Now, a lot of you have been asking if I will watch next season when Ashley H. of dental school notoriety takes her place as The Bachelorette. And the answer is, probably not. Because--guys--can't you see that I hate this show?
Thursday, March 10, 2011
Momness: Part 1
There are around 8,700 hours in a year and I have been a mom for 13 years so I have logged over 100,000 hours of momness. Malcolm Gladwell says you only need 10,000 hours to be an expert in something. According to Gladwell's calculations I am 10 times better at being a mom than the Beatles were at singing. Finally--something useful from math! So I'm going to give you some insight on momness for free--try getting anything from the Beatles for free.
It is very au courant to be obsessed with your birth and how it will take place--at home, in water, with a doula, with or without medicine, with or without heroics, etc. I've read blogs written by women who yearn for a vaginal birth--that's right YEARN. More power to them. Do whatever you want. Just remember, in the scheme of things, it's still just one day--2 at the most. (Note to people who spent more than 2 days in labor: Save the horror stories for your own blog.) I have no advice about this other than to assure you that, yes--you've thought more about this and read more about it and about Googled it more than any woman who has ever gone into labor. (I'm actually using sarcasm here to make the point that most moms-to-be are thoughtful and do their best. Let's give each other a break instead of insisting that we all borrow each others' birthing pools.) Don't forget your pre-birthing wax! Just kidding! Ah, life is strange.
Then of course everybody wants to talk about nursing. Nursing is good, we all know that. But I think we'd all be pretty proud of ourselves if giving our kids a bottle was the worst thing we ever did to them. Last week I kicked a laundry basket full of toys out of my way and yelled, "I'm so sick of this!" See? Much worse than a bottle. I regret it. I don't regret any bottles, blankies or pacifiers. Kicking a laundry basket is really the opposite of nourishing a baby with a bottle, isn't it? And yet no one ever talks about it. You might give it some thought.
After we have our babies we're all fatter than we want to be and it consumes our life whether we are training for a race, giving up sugar, or doing HCG. I myself have been trying to be healthier and that's a good thing, of course, but it occurs to me that my body doesn't hold me back, let me down, or fail me in any way other than not looking as thin in clothes as I want it to. That's pretty good. The other day my son spontaneously challenged me to beat him around the bases at the park. I went from sedentary to a full out sprint. Was I sore the next day? Yes. Did I beat him? YES. (Did I wet a little? No comment.) I hate talking about "my body" as separate from myself because I think it's sort of gross like when Roger Daltry sings, "But my body feels so good and I still sing a razor line," in You Better You Bet. I hate that part. Anyway, getting back to my body--it's much more reliable than at least half the people in my ward. Sometimes I feel sad that I now weigh what I weighed 9 months preggers with my first baby. Oh well. Much better to be cheerful and appreciate my body. There, there--that's a good body. My body wants to say hi to you. Body, quit being so shy! Oh, body.
Once some of these issues are resolved you can move on to advanced momness. More on that another time.
It is very au courant to be obsessed with your birth and how it will take place--at home, in water, with a doula, with or without medicine, with or without heroics, etc. I've read blogs written by women who yearn for a vaginal birth--that's right YEARN. More power to them. Do whatever you want. Just remember, in the scheme of things, it's still just one day--2 at the most. (Note to people who spent more than 2 days in labor: Save the horror stories for your own blog.) I have no advice about this other than to assure you that, yes--you've thought more about this and read more about it and about Googled it more than any woman who has ever gone into labor. (I'm actually using sarcasm here to make the point that most moms-to-be are thoughtful and do their best. Let's give each other a break instead of insisting that we all borrow each others' birthing pools.) Don't forget your pre-birthing wax! Just kidding! Ah, life is strange.
Then of course everybody wants to talk about nursing. Nursing is good, we all know that. But I think we'd all be pretty proud of ourselves if giving our kids a bottle was the worst thing we ever did to them. Last week I kicked a laundry basket full of toys out of my way and yelled, "I'm so sick of this!" See? Much worse than a bottle. I regret it. I don't regret any bottles, blankies or pacifiers. Kicking a laundry basket is really the opposite of nourishing a baby with a bottle, isn't it? And yet no one ever talks about it. You might give it some thought.
After we have our babies we're all fatter than we want to be and it consumes our life whether we are training for a race, giving up sugar, or doing HCG. I myself have been trying to be healthier and that's a good thing, of course, but it occurs to me that my body doesn't hold me back, let me down, or fail me in any way other than not looking as thin in clothes as I want it to. That's pretty good. The other day my son spontaneously challenged me to beat him around the bases at the park. I went from sedentary to a full out sprint. Was I sore the next day? Yes. Did I beat him? YES. (Did I wet a little? No comment.) I hate talking about "my body" as separate from myself because I think it's sort of gross like when Roger Daltry sings, "But my body feels so good and I still sing a razor line," in You Better You Bet. I hate that part. Anyway, getting back to my body--it's much more reliable than at least half the people in my ward. Sometimes I feel sad that I now weigh what I weighed 9 months preggers with my first baby. Oh well. Much better to be cheerful and appreciate my body. There, there--that's a good body. My body wants to say hi to you. Body, quit being so shy! Oh, body.
Once some of these issues are resolved you can move on to advanced momness. More on that another time.
Tuesday, March 08, 2011
I Blog About The Bachelor for the Right Reasons
Last night's reunion sure was. . . something, wasn't it? It started with Chris Harrison revealing a startling statistic: There are 500 old Bachelor cast members. Yikes. That could be a charter school. They are all vying for a role on Bachelor Pad which is, presumably, some kind of reality show for Bachelor alumni who have not yet succumbed to venereal disease. Sounds good.
After the Bachelor Pad plug we had to wait to see Michelle talk while all these other freaks who no one remembers acted out their strange aggression toward each other. Then Jackie called Michelle a spider (not very apt, actually, but whatever) and Michelle started to cry. During Michelle's crazy reign on the show a lot of her defenders reminded us that she is a paid actress--and I believe them. She rounded out her Bachelor Pad try-out last night by doing "vulnerable," "hurt," "crying," and "single mom." To sum up, I think most of the women liked Michelle during their stay in the house but were shocked when they watched her on the show. This discrepancy in her behavior really threw some of them. Needless to say, people who go on The Bachelor have a very fragile grasp on reality.
Michelle successfully railroaded the show for several awkward moments while she tried to compose herself. It was weird. Really weird. Chris Harrison felt so bad for her that he protectively moved closer to her and said to the women hurling insults, "Really?" That's how people express their indignation these days. I don't love it, linguistically. It's sort of like how "my bad" has supplanted real apologies but I can live with it. I like Chris Harrison. I hope he and Brad can find a way to spend more time together now that the show is over. He seems to be the only person Brad has had a genuine conversation with. As for Michelle? Somehow I think she'll manage to pull it together. I liked her parting shot: "After watching the show I realized what Brad and I had wasn't that unique." In other words, he made out with everyone.
I found the Ashleys the most disturbing--especially Ashely the first. She is so adorable when she cries I don't know how any man can resist her. That said, she is so pathetic when she cries I don't know how any man can stand her. Sweetheart, this is a fake show. Don't pin your self-esteem on it. Can't she just find some dummy her own age? I hated it when she actually wanted to ask Brad for advice about what would make her more marriable. Does The Bachelor actually have the power to transport its contestants back in time 60 years? Ugh. I found his apology [dismissal] to [of] her gentlemanly and I hope it helped restore her self-worth but I am also very sad about the state of affairs in the psyche of Ashely S.
I've always admired the other Ashley's spunk, which is why I found it disconcerting that she wanted to apologize to Brad. "I'm sorry I led you on and made out with you and decided not to marry you because you are too ambitious so I kicked you to the curb after blaming you for not being vulnerable enough and made you question yourself and caused you to have haunting regrets even though I still would have dropped you even if you had told me you loved me and made a fool of yourself because that's what I plan to do to Chantal." Wait, scratch that. Her apology went like this "I'm sorry I wasted our special time together." Wasted it how? By making out with him, sitting on his lap, and asserting her plan to finish dental school. Yeah, that does sound like a big waste of time for the bachelor. I hope he forgives her!
Nevertheless, I have to say I'm kind of excited about the prospect of Brad choosing Emily. You know she's always been my favorite. Next week we will finally know which spoilers are right. No matter what happens, I'm sure Chantal will behave with the utmost poise and dignity. Sarcasm! (I learned about "sarcasm" from Michelle--it's an excuse for rude or hurtful comments and bad behavior, also known as "dry humor" and "missing your daughter.")
After the Bachelor Pad plug we had to wait to see Michelle talk while all these other freaks who no one remembers acted out their strange aggression toward each other. Then Jackie called Michelle a spider (not very apt, actually, but whatever) and Michelle started to cry. During Michelle's crazy reign on the show a lot of her defenders reminded us that she is a paid actress--and I believe them. She rounded out her Bachelor Pad try-out last night by doing "vulnerable," "hurt," "crying," and "single mom." To sum up, I think most of the women liked Michelle during their stay in the house but were shocked when they watched her on the show. This discrepancy in her behavior really threw some of them. Needless to say, people who go on The Bachelor have a very fragile grasp on reality.
Michelle successfully railroaded the show for several awkward moments while she tried to compose herself. It was weird. Really weird. Chris Harrison felt so bad for her that he protectively moved closer to her and said to the women hurling insults, "Really?" That's how people express their indignation these days. I don't love it, linguistically. It's sort of like how "my bad" has supplanted real apologies but I can live with it. I like Chris Harrison. I hope he and Brad can find a way to spend more time together now that the show is over. He seems to be the only person Brad has had a genuine conversation with. As for Michelle? Somehow I think she'll manage to pull it together. I liked her parting shot: "After watching the show I realized what Brad and I had wasn't that unique." In other words, he made out with everyone.
I found the Ashleys the most disturbing--especially Ashely the first. She is so adorable when she cries I don't know how any man can resist her. That said, she is so pathetic when she cries I don't know how any man can stand her. Sweetheart, this is a fake show. Don't pin your self-esteem on it. Can't she just find some dummy her own age? I hated it when she actually wanted to ask Brad for advice about what would make her more marriable. Does The Bachelor actually have the power to transport its contestants back in time 60 years? Ugh. I found his apology [dismissal] to [of] her gentlemanly and I hope it helped restore her self-worth but I am also very sad about the state of affairs in the psyche of Ashely S.
I've always admired the other Ashley's spunk, which is why I found it disconcerting that she wanted to apologize to Brad. "I'm sorry I led you on and made out with you and decided not to marry you because you are too ambitious so I kicked you to the curb after blaming you for not being vulnerable enough and made you question yourself and caused you to have haunting regrets even though I still would have dropped you even if you had told me you loved me and made a fool of yourself because that's what I plan to do to Chantal." Wait, scratch that. Her apology went like this "I'm sorry I wasted our special time together." Wasted it how? By making out with him, sitting on his lap, and asserting her plan to finish dental school. Yeah, that does sound like a big waste of time for the bachelor. I hope he forgives her!
Nevertheless, I have to say I'm kind of excited about the prospect of Brad choosing Emily. You know she's always been my favorite. Next week we will finally know which spoilers are right. No matter what happens, I'm sure Chantal will behave with the utmost poise and dignity. Sarcasm! (I learned about "sarcasm" from Michelle--it's an excuse for rude or hurtful comments and bad behavior, also known as "dry humor" and "missing your daughter.")
Friday, March 04, 2011
Books I Read in February: 2011 Edition
People often ask me how I read so much. Well, first of all, I don't read that much. Second of all, that question ("How do you find time to read?") is a veiled accusation that I don't take care of my kids so I always ignore it. Like how I ignore my kids.
But seriously folks, here is an example of how I might spend the afternoon reading. It is, in fact, what I did today: I l rested in Ellen's bed and she put a doll on me. She wants to be a "baby doctor." She doesn't know all that it implies. She thinks the worst thing that could happen to her as a baby doctor would be delivering a bald baby. She hates bald babies. Nevertheless, she pats my stomach and I lay there and read a book until the baby is ready to "hatch." After it "hatches" I tell the doctor that I'm weak and need to rest up. I almost read a whole book today during my hospital stay. She rarely naps anymore; I have to improvise.
Early in the month I read The Passage by Justin Cronin. It's kind of like The Stand but with vampires and it is awesome and realistic--even with the vampires.
I got really into this book and was blown away that anyone could think of the story and the details. It made me think about society and what would happen if we were mostly wiped out and if the few survivors didn't pass down stories because they thought what wiped them out was too gruesome and awful to share. Those remaining people would really be at a loss. That happens in this book. It's quite popular among humanities-types like my self to value the oral tradition in theory but this book really made me understand the value of it (still in theory, I guess, since this book is fiction and, you know, about vampires). It also makes me worry about how valuable I would be in a post-apocalyptic-type scenario. I'm thinking, not that valuable? This book is the first in a trilogy and I'm happy to be on board.
Then I read Tim Gunn's Guide to Quality Taste and Style. This lightened the mood.
Tim's a doll. His books are always a treat.
Slaone Crosley is funny. Read her book.
She's the kind of person you want to be friends with in real life. Except, she's kind of a curmudgeon and would probably hate you. Like me! Just kidding.
I read I Feel Bad About My Neck by Nora Ephron while we were in St. George. She's great. She says your neck goes wobbly at age 43. Yikes. Oh well. My plan is to go really gently into that good night.
And then I read the wonderfully quirky Squirrel Seeks Chipmunk by David Sedaris.
It's weird. And funny. Bless his heart. He inspires me.
A very quick and very funny read is Stuff White People Like by Christian Lander.
It's funny because it's true.
I started The Hidden Gifts of the Introverted Child by Marti Olsen Laney a few weeks ago. But it was hidden under a bunch of stuff on my nightstand so I just barely finished it. Get it? This book is so useful to me in parenting my kids. I like to read parenting books of all sorts but often the approaches just don't apply to me or my kids. This is gentle and makes sense. My kids are introverted and they need much more encouragement then discouragement. Things always go worse with them when I decide to get hard core and focus on punishment. But then I feel guilty for being a softy. But that's what my kids need most of the time. So I like this book a lot.
What should I read next?
PS The Passage, How Did You Get This Number, and Squirrel Seeks Chipmunk all have some swearing in them--in case you want to avoid that.
But seriously folks, here is an example of how I might spend the afternoon reading. It is, in fact, what I did today: I l rested in Ellen's bed and she put a doll on me. She wants to be a "baby doctor." She doesn't know all that it implies. She thinks the worst thing that could happen to her as a baby doctor would be delivering a bald baby. She hates bald babies. Nevertheless, she pats my stomach and I lay there and read a book until the baby is ready to "hatch." After it "hatches" I tell the doctor that I'm weak and need to rest up. I almost read a whole book today during my hospital stay. She rarely naps anymore; I have to improvise.
Early in the month I read The Passage by Justin Cronin. It's kind of like The Stand but with vampires and it is awesome and realistic--even with the vampires.
I got really into this book and was blown away that anyone could think of the story and the details. It made me think about society and what would happen if we were mostly wiped out and if the few survivors didn't pass down stories because they thought what wiped them out was too gruesome and awful to share. Those remaining people would really be at a loss. That happens in this book. It's quite popular among humanities-types like my self to value the oral tradition in theory but this book really made me understand the value of it (still in theory, I guess, since this book is fiction and, you know, about vampires). It also makes me worry about how valuable I would be in a post-apocalyptic-type scenario. I'm thinking, not that valuable? This book is the first in a trilogy and I'm happy to be on board.
Then I read Tim Gunn's Guide to Quality Taste and Style. This lightened the mood.
Tim's a doll. His books are always a treat.
Slaone Crosley is funny. Read her book.
She's the kind of person you want to be friends with in real life. Except, she's kind of a curmudgeon and would probably hate you. Like me! Just kidding.
I read I Feel Bad About My Neck by Nora Ephron while we were in St. George. She's great. She says your neck goes wobbly at age 43. Yikes. Oh well. My plan is to go really gently into that good night.
And then I read the wonderfully quirky Squirrel Seeks Chipmunk by David Sedaris.
It's weird. And funny. Bless his heart. He inspires me.
A very quick and very funny read is Stuff White People Like by Christian Lander.
It's funny because it's true.
I started The Hidden Gifts of the Introverted Child by Marti Olsen Laney a few weeks ago. But it was hidden under a bunch of stuff on my nightstand so I just barely finished it. Get it? This book is so useful to me in parenting my kids. I like to read parenting books of all sorts but often the approaches just don't apply to me or my kids. This is gentle and makes sense. My kids are introverted and they need much more encouragement then discouragement. Things always go worse with them when I decide to get hard core and focus on punishment. But then I feel guilty for being a softy. But that's what my kids need most of the time. So I like this book a lot.
What should I read next?
PS The Passage, How Did You Get This Number, and Squirrel Seeks Chipmunk all have some swearing in them--in case you want to avoid that.
Tuesday, March 01, 2011
He Needs His Fantasy and Freedom--I Know the Bachelor So Well
[Spoilers]
This week's Bachelor left me asking some big questions like where did Brad come from? What is his purpose? Is this show real? Am I real? Does a tree house with a bed and NO BATHROOM really qualify as a fantasy suite?
First of all, Chantal was seriously "surprised" to be going on a safari in Africa. I guess she just put on her safari shirt ironically that day? Brad likes enthusiasm, big bosoms, and a lack of dignity (in that order). Chantal has all of this in spades. He's going to choose her. And yes I Googled it weeks ago but the more you know Brad and the more familiar you become with his interest in easy women, people who make him feel "comfortable," and people with no life or interests the more you realize that Chantal is the only acceptable woman in the batch. But who knows what will happen.
Have you ever watched the show Lie to Me? I've learned a lot about reading faces from that show. Remember when Emily asked Brad if he was ready for a 5 year old and he said yes? Well, that was a lie. But good for Emily for taking a moral stand against the fantasy suite because she's a mother and an example to her little girl. Oh wait. She didn't do that. Instead she took a page from Chantal's book (there are hardly any words in it) and told Brad she is falling in love with him and kissed him. Well, she was almost a good example to her little girl! You guys, it's hard to be a role model. Just ask Snooki, Miley Cyrus, and Tupac Shakur.
I guess it's worth it to compromise your values because if you do maybe Brad will choose you and you'll become his wife and when your kids do the math and figure out that they were conceived in the fantasy suite they won't call you a hypocrite when you try to teach them not to be promiscuous and you'll be really proud of yourself because you won a reality show. Like I say, I've never watched the show before but I'm guessing that's how it turns out for people.
Emily is beautiful and [relatively] classy. I hate to see her doing this. At least her dream of riding an elephant came true. Personally, I don't care if I ever ride an elephant at all. My dream was to have a substantive conversation with a guy before I married him. But some people [apparently] don't care about that at all. Everyone is different. That's what makes life wonderful and surprising, like an African safari!
And finally, Ashley. Whew! That was awkward, wasn't it? It's like when you realize you've been on a ridiculous and unrealistic reality show for a month and suddenly you notice you don't like or even know the guy you are hoping will propose to you in the finale. "Maybe there's more to a relationship than a really fun carnival date." Hmmmmm. Brad might be onto something there. But I don't know. Look at Siegfried and Roy. They have abiding love and their relationship is based on the circus.
But then there's Ashley's pesky obsession with dentistry. How serious is she about that hobby anyway? Brad wants to know. As it turns out, pretty serious. WRONG ANSWER. You see, Ashley was relying on sparks and chemistry to get her to the end of the game. She didn't know she was supposed to forsake all personal ambition and assure him of her desire to move to Austin and become, presumably? barefoot and pregnant. Looking back she could have played it differently. Won a few more moments, who can tell? But it took time to understand the Brad. Now at least she knows she knows him well.
My hat goes off to Ashley for being the only one to draw attention to the sexist mechanism at play on ABC's The Bachelor several weeks ago when Brad drawled, "Isn't that a good thing?" referring to her feelings for him and she said, "Yeah--for you." Of course it made him really mad and cost her a husband in the end but sister spoke the truth. And refusing to "beg" after Brad gave her the boot? Unprecedented! (I think we can all picture Chantal in the same situation begging on her hands and knees. That's the way to his heart, I guess.) I have to say--after hopping on Brad's lap in front of her parents--I didn't know Ashley had it in her.
And they say Mormons oppress women.
This week's Bachelor left me asking some big questions like where did Brad come from? What is his purpose? Is this show real? Am I real? Does a tree house with a bed and NO BATHROOM really qualify as a fantasy suite?
First of all, Chantal was seriously "surprised" to be going on a safari in Africa. I guess she just put on her safari shirt ironically that day? Brad likes enthusiasm, big bosoms, and a lack of dignity (in that order). Chantal has all of this in spades. He's going to choose her. And yes I Googled it weeks ago but the more you know Brad and the more familiar you become with his interest in easy women, people who make him feel "comfortable," and people with no life or interests the more you realize that Chantal is the only acceptable woman in the batch. But who knows what will happen.
Have you ever watched the show Lie to Me? I've learned a lot about reading faces from that show. Remember when Emily asked Brad if he was ready for a 5 year old and he said yes? Well, that was a lie. But good for Emily for taking a moral stand against the fantasy suite because she's a mother and an example to her little girl. Oh wait. She didn't do that. Instead she took a page from Chantal's book (there are hardly any words in it) and told Brad she is falling in love with him and kissed him. Well, she was almost a good example to her little girl! You guys, it's hard to be a role model. Just ask Snooki, Miley Cyrus, and Tupac Shakur.
I guess it's worth it to compromise your values because if you do maybe Brad will choose you and you'll become his wife and when your kids do the math and figure out that they were conceived in the fantasy suite they won't call you a hypocrite when you try to teach them not to be promiscuous and you'll be really proud of yourself because you won a reality show. Like I say, I've never watched the show before but I'm guessing that's how it turns out for people.
Emily is beautiful and [relatively] classy. I hate to see her doing this. At least her dream of riding an elephant came true. Personally, I don't care if I ever ride an elephant at all. My dream was to have a substantive conversation with a guy before I married him. But some people [apparently] don't care about that at all. Everyone is different. That's what makes life wonderful and surprising, like an African safari!
And finally, Ashley. Whew! That was awkward, wasn't it? It's like when you realize you've been on a ridiculous and unrealistic reality show for a month and suddenly you notice you don't like or even know the guy you are hoping will propose to you in the finale. "Maybe there's more to a relationship than a really fun carnival date." Hmmmmm. Brad might be onto something there. But I don't know. Look at Siegfried and Roy. They have abiding love and their relationship is based on the circus.
But then there's Ashley's pesky obsession with dentistry. How serious is she about that hobby anyway? Brad wants to know. As it turns out, pretty serious. WRONG ANSWER. You see, Ashley was relying on sparks and chemistry to get her to the end of the game. She didn't know she was supposed to forsake all personal ambition and assure him of her desire to move to Austin and become, presumably? barefoot and pregnant. Looking back she could have played it differently. Won a few more moments, who can tell? But it took time to understand the Brad. Now at least she knows she knows him well.
My hat goes off to Ashley for being the only one to draw attention to the sexist mechanism at play on ABC's The Bachelor several weeks ago when Brad drawled, "Isn't that a good thing?" referring to her feelings for him and she said, "Yeah--for you." Of course it made him really mad and cost her a husband in the end but sister spoke the truth. And refusing to "beg" after Brad gave her the boot? Unprecedented! (I think we can all picture Chantal in the same situation begging on her hands and knees. That's the way to his heart, I guess.) I have to say--after hopping on Brad's lap in front of her parents--I didn't know Ashley had it in her.
And they say Mormons oppress women.
