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Why it matters

NonSoccerMom — Wed, 25 Jan 2017 05:34:34 +0000

On Saturday I took my 9 year old daughter down to San Francisco’s Civic Center to participate in the Women’s March. I knew there would be tens of thousands of people there. I knew it would be cold and rainy and the 9yo was unlikely to last the entire time. So why did I bother? Why does it matter? There are a lot of articles out there already, and many of them are written far more eloquently than I could ever manage.

ThisÂ one in particular sums up my feelings fairly accurately. Yes, by comparison to other countries, women in America have things pretty good. Particularly, it must be noted, middle class white women like myself. I understand my privilege. And yet.

My 14 year old son is safer walking alone on the streets than his mother. In certain situations I worry far less about his safety than I would about my own. Currently he’s right about my size – possibly slightly taller than my 5’8″ but not much. We stand eye-to-eye and are probably within 10 pounds weight-wise. However. Simply by virtue of being a young man, he is safer on American streets than a 37 year old woman. Of this I have no doubt. He doesn’t need to carry mace or keep his keys at the ready. He doesn’t worry about taking a wrong turn and ending up in a dark alley alone at night. And I guarantee you that when he wears headphones on the street, he doesn’t give a second thought to who may be walking up behind him. He’s tall and strong and clearly no longer a child. No one is going to try and grab him. Certainly he is at very low risk of being raped.

Will my daughter be able to take the bus alone at the same age? Our neighborhood is safe. Her school is in an equally safe neighborhood, and there is a direct, generally quiet bus route between them. But she’s a girl. And I can guarantee you that even once she’s a teen I won’t feel as comfortable letting her wander the city alone. It’s not fair. When the time comes, she’ll no doubt point that out. But in our society, women simply aren’t as safe. We aren’t equal. Not in this. And not in countless other ways.

When I was in college, my car needed a belt replaced. Nothing major at all, so just a matter of taking it to the local dealership to get it fixed. Should have been simple. But after an initial visit where the focus was clearly upselling (“you need to also get this done! and also this! and all these other things that were fine when your car was checked out 3 months ago but are suddenly horribly wrong!”) I decided to take a male friend back with me. And wouldn’t you know – suddenly it was no problem to just fix the minor issue I’d requested in the first place.

Do I feel inequality in my daily life? Â Not generally. I work in a field dominated by women, in the unique bubble of academia. I live and work in one of the most politically liberal areas of the country. I make good money and I recognize that I’m fairly well insulated from income inequality and harassment in the workplace. I’m lucky in that way.

But I can also recognize that a lot of women aren’t. This isn’t just about me, or women with whom I share socioeconomic status.Â It’s about all of us. Trans women, lesbians, minority women, women who work in the (many) fields still dominated by men. All of these women face challenges of which I cannot conceive.

We may not want to admit that inequalities still exist, but they do. Maybe not for you. Maybe not for me. But for our neighbors and friends. For marginalized groups who face an uphill battle in so many aspects of their lives.

I want to teach my children the importance of standing up for what’s right, even if it doesn’t affect them personally. Maybe it doesn’t in this moment, but it could someday. Even if it doesn’t ever affect them at all, that doesn’t mean they shouldn’t care. Look at where a lack of ability to empathize with our neighbors has gotten us.

So that’s why it matters. It matters for them. It matters for my daughter and for her future. It matters for all of us.

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Thankfulness

NonSoccerMom — Wed, 23 Nov 2016 23:15:15 +0000

It’s harder this year. Isn’t it? The world – and especially our country – is changing and sometimes that seems scary and overwhelming, and I don’t know about anyone else but I’m having a hard time with thankfulness of late. So I’m going to do a little something I’ve done before (no links, because lazy and also no one is reading anyway) and list out things that I’m thankful for right now. Family, health, etc. are a given, so this is really about the little things. It’s easy to lose sight of those, especially when the big picture seems so bleak. So! *brisk clap* Here we go.

I’m thankful for living somewhere with mild weather pretty much year round.

I’m also thankful for a landlord that gets involved when we ask him to but leaves us alone the rest of the time.

AÂ job that doesn’t make me miserable (and is even enjoyable some of the time). And for a flexible dress code that allows me to get away with wearing jeans pretty much whenever.

TheÂ new Metallica album that dropped earlier this month.

New pink Converse.

A nearby consignment store where I can often score things like mint condition 7 For All Mankind jeans.

Living in a city where I have limitless food delivery options, so that I can order whatever I want from the comfort of my living room.

Having older kids that both sleep through the night and help with household chores.

That my 8yo has discovered the new version of MacGyver and snuggles up on the couch with me to watch and discuss.

Hot apple cider with a splash (okay, sometimes more than a splash) of rum.

A nearby hair salon with awesome Yelp ratings, reasonable prices and ONLINE APPOINTMENT BOOKING (whether I am thankful for the results will be determined Saturday.)

Old episodes of Supernatural and Burn Notice, which I can watch a million times over without ever getting sick of them.

Ditto Escape From New York, my absolute favorite movie of all time.

Having the means and the vacation time to visit family in Texas for the holidays.

Wine. Always, always wine.

The post Thankfulness first appeared on NonSoccerMom.com.

This cannot be real life

NonSoccerMom — Tue, 22 Nov 2016 20:22:12 +0000

It’s been weeks now since the election and I’m still not over it. I don’t know that I ever will be. Beyond the obvious heartbreak that this country apparently would rather have a racist, bigoted, misogynistic blowhard reality TV star in our highest office than a woman with a normal amount of political scandals in her past, I just wake up every day horrified anew. It’s like the Twilight Zone. It looks relatively like the life I used to have, the America I knew, but clearly it isn’t.

Neo-Nazis are being selected to some of the highest positions in the land. Phone calls with world leaders are happening off the record. Evidently there will be limited access by and virtually no transparency with the press . Oh, but there will be closed meetings with high-profile press members, in which our president-elect will rant about pictures showing his double chin. All the while, he isÂ still tweeting insults and complaints like a child. He’s threatening freedom of speech. Immigrants and people of color and Muslims are scared for their futures. So is the LGBTQ community, and rightfully so. This should not happen. It is 2016 in America, a country founded on and known for its freedoms. What is happening to us? We’re going backwards. This is horrifying. I can’t even link to all the articles and tweets and news fromÂ the last few weeks because there’s too much. Not to mention the numerous conflicts of interest, because it seems that Trump is not going to back away from his business dealings as he should. Plus his apparent refusal to live in the White House full time, thereby costing taxpayers more money to protect him in New York. Oh, and his daughter Ivanka is attending transition meetings with world leaders for even more appalling conflicts of interest. I just. It’s too much. How is this happening?

I am aware that there was a large contingent of Trump voters who voted for him solely on the basis of anti-establishment. They wanted him in office to shake things up. To get away from traditional politics and really make a change. But is this what they intended? Are there Trump voters out there watching all of this unfold with the same horror I feel? For the future of our country, I certainly hope so. I have to believe they’re realizing the depth of their mistake. Not that it excuses voting for a childish man that is soÂ obviously racist and uncaring of basic human and civil rights, but I know from personal experience that not all Trump voters are deplorable. Some of them are very good people, and though I will never agree with their choice in this matter, I have to believe that they truly didn’t think they were enabling the Neo-Nazis to take over this country. And yet.

I don’t even know what the point of this post is. I just needed a place to rant and put my feelings somewhere in more than 140 character snippets. So here it is. If things keep going as they are, there will probably be more at some point. In the meantime, hang in there America. We’ll get through this. We have to. Because there isn’t an alternative.

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A (very) few thoughts on this election

NonSoccerMom — Thu, 20 Oct 2016 22:59:18 +0000

Less than three weeks, guys. Like 19 days or something at this point.Â We can do this. We can survive this election.

Honestly, I’ve always been sort of a lazy voter. I’ve rarely bothered with local elections at all, because I don’t usually keep up with the issues and don’t want to vote if I’m uninformed. I did vote in the 2000 presidential election, the first one I was old enough for, but then I skipped 2004 because I was largely indifferent (look, I had a toddler and a new job and I was a little busy). I voted for ObamaÂ in 2008 and 2012 and, well, here we are.

All that to say: I have paid more attention to this election campaign than I have to all the others in my life combined. Â It is crazy and horrifying and yet I can’t seem to look away. Anyone who follows me on twitter has been inundated with my opinion for months now. I’ve been blasting out my frustration in 140-character snippets but that isn’t enough. I just have far too much to say, and even though I never write here anymore (seriously, it’s been almost two years…oops) I had to say my piece…or at least part of it. My husband, as usual, wrote something far more eloquent and fact-filled than I could ever hope to, and I strongly recommend that you head on over to his blog to check that out.

At any rate, here are my thoughts on one aspect of this circus sideshow:

Trump isn’t just an asshole. I mean, he IS an asshole, but he’s a lot of other things too. And none of them are good. I truly believe with every fiber of my being that there is not one good bone in that man’s body. He’s awful. Truly, truly just an awful person. My problems with this man are myriad (he’s infantile and a liar and a bigot to start) and I could probably write a thousand-page novel on the subject, but I don’t have time to write that, you don’t have time to read it and so for now there’s just one thing about Trump andÂ his joke of a campaign that I really want to focus on.

He isÂ completely, utterly disrespectful of women. You don’t even have to believe that he assaulted all the women who’ve accused him (though I do). All you need to do is look at the video evidence. He’s been caught on tape innumerable times talking inappropriately about Ivanka (ew) and rating women’s looks…not to mention the Billy Bush debacle. (Quick aside for a gentle reminder: Forcing yourself on an unwilling person is sexual assault. It doesn’t matter who you are or what your position is, if you grab another human by the privates against their will, you are assaulting them. It’s that simple.) I mean, come on, he’s using a woman’s looks in defending himself against the allegations by saying things like “Have you seen her? I don’t think so.” Who says that? Certainly not anyone who views women as equal human beings, but instead someone who views them merely as items to be desired – or not, dependent entirely on their looks. It’s very clear that he can only view women in light of their attractiveness. If you haven’t seen the Hillary Clinton ad that is simply just a compilation of his words, you need to watch it. Here. I’ll wait.

Now. Think about your daughters. Your granddaughters. If you are a woman, think about yourself. How would it make you feel if those demeaning words were directed at you? Would you be okay with it if a man called you a fat ugly pig? If he said that to your daughter? Would you be willing to just write those words off? I doubt that very much. And even if you were able to just let it go, you would probably never look at that man in the same way ever again. Here we have a man willing to say such things to women publicly, on live TV and in recorded interviews, and we’re expected to elect him into and then give him the respect due of the highest office in the country? I don’t think so. Not a chance.

Think about your sons and grandsons, and imagine them saying any of those things to a female classmate. Or a female coworker. Or a family member. If I caught my son saying ANY of the phrases in that very short video, I would subject him to a lecture on respect the likes of which he would never forget. If my husband ever said anything like that to me our marriage would be over. Full stop. There’s absolutely no excuse. None.

To me, just the fact that Trump’s knee-jerk response is always “NO ONE IS MORE RESPECTFUL OF WOMEN THAN ME” is very telling. Last night’s debate audience laughed out loud, it was such a preposterous statement. We all have seen him – numerous times – making disrespectful statements about women on live TV, so just by making such a grand statement in direct contradiction to previous behaviorÂ he’s insulting everyone’s intelligence. We see you, Donald Trump, and we’re calling you on your bullshit. Â

We won’t even talk about his “nasty woman” comment last night, and the fact that he stalked Hillary onstage like a predator during the second debate.

It’s not just words. It’s never just words. It’s not locker room talk, and it is not normal or acceptable. If you’re voting for Trump because he “tells it like it is” then you need to think about what exactly he’s telling us with these hurtful, demeaning words. Don’t tell me that Hillary is just as bad, or that Trump is just blowing hot air and the words don’t mean anything.Â Casting a vote for Donald Trump excuses his behavior. Whether you can admit it to yourself or not, it does.

Voting for TrumpÂ normalizes devaluation and disrespect of women.

It endorsesÂ rape culture.

It does nothing to promote women’s rights and equality in our society, and in fact is a vote against them.

It certainly is not going to makeÂ this country a better, saferÂ place for our daughters.

It sends a message to our sons that treating women like second-class citizens is okay.

And casting a vote for Donald Trump may very well may be hurting someone you love.

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A few words, although there truly aren’t any

NonSoccerMom — Sun, 16 Dec 2012 19:33:28 +0000

As a general rule, I don’t write about current events. I try to keep my blog free of hot-ticket issues, political opinions and potentially controversial issues. There are plenty of other blogs and online sources if you want to read that sort of thing, and while I certainly have no shortage of opinions on anything, I have chosen to keep those separate from my ramblings here. This is my place to whine and snark and rant about my admittedly privileged life.

But I had to say something. I couldn’t NOT say something. The events at Sandy Hook Elementary on Friday have absolutely broken my heart. I am raising my children in what becomes an increasingly terrifying world and I’m just not even sure how to deal. It is clear that no one is safe. No matter where we live or where we send our children to school, unthinkable, horrifying violence is everywhere. It is no longer confined primarily to large cities or so-called “dangerous” neighborhoods. People have access to heavy weaponry – guns that no civilian should really ever need – and misguided, disturbed souls are using them against the innocent.

In this case, innocent children. The vast majority of the Newtown victims were babies, you guys. Children just marginally older than my little girl. My heart shattered into a million pieces whenever I first heard the news. There just aren’t words for this kind of atrocity. Those poor precious babies. They must have been so utterly terrified, and certainly far too little to have any idea of what was happening.

I can’t even imagine what their families must be feeling right now. The loss of a child is heartbreaking regardless, but the loss of a child to violence – needless, random violence – is something else entirely. Those parents sent their children to school Friday morning with no inkling of what was to happen. I’m sure many of their mornings started as mine so often do. Repeated requests to get dressed. Increasingly frustrated pleas to hurry. “Come on, let’s go, we’re going to be late!” “Quit arguing and get your clothes on!” “Why haven’t you brushed your teeth yet? HURRY UP!” Those families were going about their morning routines, and none of them had any idea that it was the last time.

I cried at my desk more than once on Friday. As a parent, it’s hard to keep from imagining what you would do if it were you. If it were your children who were involved in a school shooting. And then your heart breaks a little more.

We have to do something. We have to. I don’t know what the solution is – better mental health care. Reevaluation of our gun control laws, certainly. I’ve had to distance myself from the news coverage somewhat but my personal assumption is that the Sandy Hook shooter was quite mentally unbalanced. I think we can all agree that anyone who would commit such an atrocity is clearly deeply disturbed in some way. Healthy, well-adjusted people do not walk into elementary schools with semi-automatic weapons and gun down innocent children.

Columbine High School. Virginia Tech. Movie theaters. Factories. Churches, temples, shopping malls. Fort Hood. Nowhere is safe. How many of these incidents could have been avoided by making it harder for people to obtain guns? It doesn’t matter, you say. If people want guns, they’ll get them – legally or not. That may be true, but this article on Japan’s highly restrictive gun legislation is eye-opening. Think about that. A highly-developed nation in which almost no one owns a gun. Why is that so scary to us, as Americans? When our forefathers drafted the Constitution and the Bill of Rights, I hardly think it occurred to them that the ease with which Americans can obtain and keep firearms would become so problematic a couple hundred years down the line.

I don’t claim to be an expert on gun control legislation, proposed or practiced. I’m not going to pretend otherwise. And in theory I’m not actually opposed to the owning of handguns by private citizens. What I *am* opposed to is the relative ease of getting them.

I’m from Texas, as you know. And Texans have a particularly unique opinion on keeping weapons in one’s home. In the days after a tragedy such as this, my Facebook feed fills up with people extolling the virtues of having a concealed handgun license. People post pictures of handguns with clever little rhymes like “Now I lay me down to sleep, by my bed a gun I keep. If I awake and find you inside, a coroner’s van will be your last ride.”

This isn’t a joke. Gun control is not something to make light of. We have a real problem here. Sick people are getting their hands on weapons because we make it easy for them. Like I said, access to guns isn’t the whole issue. Clearly there are people with mental instabilities that need our help. I think that is every bit as important, but it is also a harder place to start.

Start with the guns. Stop the next tragedy before it even starts. The mentally ill need our help, and the first step is making it impossible for them to create these scenarios. The Sandy Hook shooter killed himself that day, and at 20 years old, he wasn’t much beyond childhood himself. The Virginia Tech killer was only 23. At Columbine, the offenders were just teens. Could we have stopped them? Is there something their parents could have done differently? I dare you to read this story and not gain a new understanding of those who suffer mental illness. Terrifying and emotionally heartrending for all involved.

A side note: I also think the media should be careful in publicizing the personal details and glorifying the horrific agendas of these murderers, but my issues with reporters and the American media are a topic for another day.

Basically it boils down to one thing. We have babies killing babies. This has got to end. We have to make it stop. I don’t want my children to grow up in a world where schools have to have “Active Shooter Protocols” in place. But per the email from my son’s principal this weekend, they are. The system is broken, and we need to fix it before any more children are senselessly murdered. Before another community has to bury twenty innocent children.

Now is the time. Because it is already too late.

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Just like a grownup

NonSoccerMom — Tue, 10 Jul 2012 01:40:10 +0000

Y’all! I managed to navigate the San Francisco bus system and get from point A to point B ALL BY MYSELF. You may not be impressed, but this is a big thing for me. Here’s the deal. Whenever we travel I have N as a guide (enabler) all the time, see, and so I don’t have to worry about the finer points of public transportation. Get on, get off, show my ticket as needed and look out the window at the scenery, knowing full well that my husband will poke me when it’s our stop.

But since he headed back to Texas this morning it is just me, Google maps and the MUNI bus schedule, and I am pleased to report that I did not get lost one single time, nor did I cry. Huzzah! Basic life skills FTW.

In related news, my first day at work went well. Everyone is very nice and I don’t think it will take long for me to settle in at all. I also was reminded of one of the many reasons to love California – I can virtually guarantee that there’s not an office cafeteria anywhere in Texas that has falafel on the menu. It is damn good falafel, too.

That said, I know the hugeness of this change has yet to fully sink in – although I am occasionally having moments of OMG I LIVE IN SAN FRANCISCO NOW WTF HOW DID THIS HAPPEN I CANNOT EVEN. It’s still all shiny and new for the moment, and reality has yet to bite me in the butt. I’m sure it will happen soon and no doubt when it does I’ll cry (AGAIN) for the life I left behind, but with each passing minute I know that moving here was the right decision.

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Reboot

NonSoccerMom — Sat, 07 Jul 2012 21:47:55 +0000

I know, I know. Believe me, I am very aware that it has been entirely too long since my last post. I could give you a ton of excuses, but that’s exactly what they would be. The truth of the matter is, I’m just lazy. There’s been plenty to write about – finishing school, going to Arizona for graduation and a mini-vacation, Misty’s pre-k “graduation”, putting the house up for sale, which is of course related to the fact that I am soon starting a new job. In California.

Yep. This post is coming to you from a tiny studio apartment at the edge of Union Square in San Francisco. It’s a far cry from the comfortable familiarity of a mid-sized town in central Texas, that is for damn sure. This place is only temporary (thank the tiny baby Jesus in his tiny little manger because holy crap, some of the nearby neighborhoods are…questionable), but will give me a chance to sort out a permanent situation before the kids arrive in early August. In addition to starting a brand-new job, I have to secure daycare, find Lex a school, figure out how to navigate public transportation, and somehow find a place to live that is all of the following:

A – 3 bedroom

B – (relatively) affordable

C – dog and cat friendly, and

D – located in minimally sketchy surroundings

This will be harder than you’d think.

The logistics are going to be a nightmare, there’s no doubt about it. Not to mention, everything about living in an urban area is a departure from what I’m accustomed to. It will take an entire readjustment to my way of thinking before I can call this city home. I’ll have to get used to the fact that it will take ages to get where I’m going, I’ll have to wrangle two kids (one scatterbrained, one mulishly stubborn) using public transportation on the regular, everything costs an arm and a leg (except the groceries at Trader Joe’s, HUZZAH!), and there are incredibly vocal crazy people everywhere. No, really. EVERYWHERE.

But! I’m optimistic. I love a challenge, which is probably obvious otherwise I wouldn’t have accepted a job thousands of miles away in the first place. It’s a great opportunity to do something I’ve always wanted, and I’m grateful to have a husband that is willing to take the plunge along with me. The kids seem excited, as much as they can be with limited comprehension of what this actually MEANS to their wee lives, and I’m absolutely positive it will all work out fine in the end. We’ll move in, get settled, and soon SF will feel just as much home as any other place.

It will be an adjustment, but I’m a firm believer that anything worth having is worth working for. Complacency and acceptance of the status quo are boring to me, and the only way to live to the fullest is by changing up the norm. I’ll of course miss my “old” life – I had worked at that job for over 8 years and it was comfortable. Frustrating and crazy-making at (many) times, but at least I knew what I was doing. I’ve left all of my friends and family behind – no more weekend jaunts to my parents’ place just because the kids need a change of scenery. All of that is over now, and it is time for a new beginning.

That said, my goal is to write here far, far more often than before. Like near-daily, at least at first while I’m here alone. I’ll certainly have more time on my hands, and may as well use it. This blog won’t be just a place for me to moan and whine (as much) anymore (oh, who am I kidding. Come for the stories and brilliant commentary, stay for the bitching) – it can be a useful place to keep friends and family caught up on my life. Those who care to know, anyway. And if you fall into that category, then I promise to try and make it worth your while.

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Schmoopy

NonSoccerMom — Wed, 12 Oct 2011 18:58:24 +0000

I am not really a “typical” woman when it comes to aÂ lot of things.Â I don’t particularly like to cuddle or hold hands.Â I tend to be cranky and temperamental. Â I’mÂ an anal-retentiveÂ control freak that is militant about a large number of household-related tasks.Â I am completely lacking in sympathy and therefore make a terrible nursemaid.Â IÂ often forget to say “Thanks” andÂ “I love you” and in general am truly awful at being romantic.Â In other words, I…am probably kind of a crappy wife.Â Or possibly a poorly-functioning robot.

You may wonder if I have a point.Â Â For once, I actually do.Â You see, my husband’s birthday is tomorrow and I felt like maybe a grand display of my love and affection was in order.Â Or at the very least, a public THANK YOU for putting up with me.

He hates “crap like this”.Â Why do women do this, he asks.Â Male bloggers generallyÂ don’t feel the need toÂ post gushy declarations of love and rampant sentimentalityÂ on family and friends’ birthdays.Â

So I’ll keep it short and sweet.Â

Babe, I love you for all that you do for me, and all that you are for our family.Â I know I don’t make it easy on you a lot of times.Â Or ever.Â But you take it all in stride, and keep moving along.Â I love that after 12 years, you canÂ still make me laugh.Â You know what I am thinking and how I am feeling – sometimes even before I realize it myself.Â You’re such an awesome husband and phenomenal father, and I couldn’t ask for a better friend.

You make it possible for me to follow my dreams, and for that I can’t thank you enough.

You also make it possible for me to go on trips without having to worry about the kids, and I know that is a luxury a lot of mothers do not have.Â Even though I desperatelyÂ wish you could come with me to Qatar, I know I can travel with total peace of mind that they’re being cared for – in many ways better than I can do myself.

(Aside to the 3ish non-husband readers of this blog: did I mention that I’m going to Qatar in two weeks?)

(I totally am.)

(More on that later.)

Anyway, to sum up: N, I love you, you’re the perfect husband for me, and I look forward to celebrating many more birthdays with you.Â Sorry for the schmaltz.Â

The end.

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Three

NonSoccerMom — Mon, 27 Dec 2010 10:44:26 +0000

Dear Miss T:

Happy birthday, little one.Â Three years, wow!Â Look at you, getting all big and stuff.

You, missy, certainly keep us all on our toes.Â You’re just always up to something – whether with the intent of mischief or not.Â For example, one morning when I went to get you out of bed, I noticed that something wasn’t right.Â What’s going on with your pants? I asked.Â You grinned and exclaimed, dey’re on de WONG WAY! Yes, yes they most definitely were.Â Apparently at some point during the night you took off your pants, turned them inside out, then put them back on.Â Impressive, yet bizarre.

I don’t know that I’ll ever get used to the differences between you and AE.Â And oh, there are many.Â You’re just such a typical toddler, and I realize now that he wasn’t.Â You’re everything he isn’t – strong-willed and high-energy and basically just crazy-pants.Â But in a FUN way.Â (Most of the time.)

You have an incredible sense of humor.Â You really do.Â You go out of your way to make people laugh, and I can tell that you get such joy from doing so.Â I’m sure eventually we’ll be getting phone calls from exasperated teachers – your personality has “class clown” written all over it – but for now, we just laugh.

And your imagination – I’ve never seen anything like it.Â You can take the most innocuous of items and see whole scenarios, which you cheerfully play out much to the confusion of your brother, poor guy, firmly entrenched in his box as he is.Â He just doesn’t understand the way your wee mind works.Â I don’t either, to be honest, but it is obviously a wondrous, fascinating place.Â I hope you keep that creativity throughout your life.Â It will serve you well.

You’re such a joy.Â For all your stubbornness and spite and that propensity for tiny, tiny rage, you really are just that.Â An absolute delight.Â You live with such reckless abandon that it’s hard to not fall prey to your charm.Â I wish I had your cheer.Â Not to mention your apparently endless energy, as you careen wildly from one activity of questionable safety to the next.Â (Side note: it really would be fine if you just…sat down every once in a while.)

You’re still fearless.Â It concerns me from time to time, honestly, since I have to be constantly vigilant whenever you leave the room.Â But you also have a high tolerance for pain, which is a fortunate match for your dangerous lifestyle.Â You’re a wonder, little one.

I’m a little worried about what the next year of your life holds for us – as comparatively easy of a toddler as your brother was, three was still difficult.Â I will never understand why the twos are supposedly so terrible – three was far far worse for us.Â But I’m not going to worry about it too much – we’ll just take each day at a time and enjoy you for what you are.Â A sweet, loving, charming, beautiful little girl that I love more than life itself.

I adore you, baby girl.Â We all do, even AE.Â He may play coy at times, but I hear what’s going on when the two of you assume I’m not listening.Â He’s becoming that big brother I’d always hoped he’d be.Â He’s your unwitting hero, your protector, your greatest admirer.Â Treasure that, baby girl.Â You’ve got the greatest sibling a kid could ever hope for.

I’m so lucky, I can’t even put it into words.Â I love you so much and I hope you have a wonderful birthday.

Mommy

P.S.Â Sorry about the post-Christmas birthday timing you got stuck with.Â It…kind of sucks.

The post Three first appeared on NonSoccerMom.com.

32 things I adore about you

NonSoccerMom — Wed, 13 Oct 2010 05:03:27 +0000

To my husband, on his 32nd birthday:

1.Â You take AE to school every morning, because you know that particular brand of traffic makes me stabby.

2.Â You gave up your car and volunteered to drive my 9-year-old 4Runner without a second thought, because you knew that BMW was what I really, really wanted.

3.Â You genuinely love both of our children with all of your heart.

4.Â You’ll help me out with anything I ask, usually with only a minimal amount of grumbling.

5.Â You don’t mind matching and folding socks, which is great, because if it were left up to me we’d all have to dig for a matching pair out of a community pile.

6.Â You are sweet and kind to my nonagenarian grandmothers, treating them as if they’re your own.

7.Â You refill my wine glass without asking on days you can tell that I need it.

8.Â You indulge my crazy whims, and tame my wild streak.

9.Â You let me fall asleep before you come to bed, because you know that your CPAP noise often keeps me awake.

10.Â You’ve been nothing but supportive of my decision to go back to school, even though it often means more kid-shuttling and dinner-making and lonely TV-watching for you.

11.Â You recently bought me this shirt just because you knew I’d love it, and I do.

12.Â You always know how to make me laugh, no matter the situation.

13.Â You never seriously complain about the amount of money that I spend.Â Even if it is on yet another pair of shoes.

14.Â You don’t ever try to make me feel guilty about leaving you alone with the kids all weekend so that I can go see my girls.

15.Â I never, ever worry about how the kids are when you’re caring for them alone, because you take care of them just as well (if not better than) I do.

16.Â You love me for me, and I know that will always be true.

17.Â You inspire me to be a better person.

18.Â You’re the most thoughtful man I’ve ever met.

19.Â With very few (sleep-addled) exceptions, you don’t leave the toilet seat up.

20.Â You know when I need to just curl up in your lap and cry, and you don’t try to “fix it”.

21.Â You are an awesome travel partner, and there’s nothing better than a vacation with you.

22.Â You rarely fuss about the fact that I don’t eat – and therefore do not cook – beef.

23.Â You never mention my lack of cooking skills at all, as a matter of fact.

24.Â You will – and have had to – drive across town to save me from a cockroach donkey.

25.Â You listen patiently as I rant and rave and flail about my day, no matter how long it takes.

26.Â You watch movies that you hate, just because you know I really want to see them.

27.Â You’re my balance, since you are every bit as mellow as I am high-strung.

28.Â You completely trust me to handle our finances, and never seem to worry that I’m running us into mountains of debt (I’m not) or forgetting to plan for the future (got it covered).

29.Â You’re a great writer, and I always enjoy reading your blog.

30.Â You’re the perfect match to my closet nerd.

31.Â You excel at thoughtful, meaningful gifts for every occasion, and forgive me for the fact that I suck at gift-giving and don’t even believe in greeting cards.

32.Â You’re the most wonderful husband (and father) that I could possibly imagine.

I love you very much, babe.Â And even though we’re currently separated by several states, I hope you have a very happy birthday.Â Can’t wait to see you tomorrow.

Love, K

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