Grumpy
Things that are making me grumpy this week:
1. I hate how the massacre at VA Tech is being turned into this big political finger pointing, gun control issue. For all those out there who are saying the shooter shouldn’t have been able to get a gun, I completely agree. Based on his mental status and everything else that had happened before he went to get those guns, there is no way that under the current laws, he should have been able to get a gun. That being said, for all of the people out there calling for the abolishment of citizens carrying guns and stronger gun control laws, think about this for a moment: imagine that just one of the law-abiding non-crazy students or teachers had a gun on them when this incident happened. Many lives could have been saved. All I’m saying is that there are two sides to every story and it really irritates me when talk show hosts can’t see past their own political bias.
2. Lil C has pink eye.
3. Big I has a sore throat.
4. I haven’t made it to a single karate class this week thus far.
5 . A little old man who sat behind me at two traffic lights, beeped at me and threw his arms in disgust because I didn’t start going through the intersection a split second before the light turned green. He then proceeded to follow me down the road going about 15 miles an hour. What was the hurry buddy???? Can you say ROAD RAGE?
6. I found out from a neighbor that the pit bulls who lived behind me are gone. They have both been euthanized, which means that they once again attacked or intimidated someone without owner supervision. While I am relieved that I won’t have to deal with their lousy owners being irresponsible again, I am extremely annoyed with another neighbor who is apparently annoyed with me for making the first report which resulted in the first of many fines that the owner received. The annoyed neighbor was telling my other neighbor about it in the context of "they can’t even afford to pay their heating bill because of all the fines." Insert "blame it on BBM" anywhere in here, because it’s obvious. My response to my non-annoyed neighbor would be "Boo-freaking-hoo. Be responsible for your dogs. And if paying your heating bill is an issue than don’t let them out of the house unsupervised, or don’t have two dogs that you are incapable of caring for properly. It’s not my fault their dogs were put to sleep. It’s their own fault for being irresponsible." I am SO SICK of people blaming people who deserve no blame.
7. If Sanjaya doesn’t go home tonight on American Idol, consider that #7.
And because all of this is trivial compared to what happened this week, I just want to say that my thoughts and prayers go out to all of the victims, their friends and families, and the entire VA Tech community.
Published: Duke Lacrosse Follow-up
Last week I mailed back my permissions contract to a publisher. A few months ago, I was asked by an editor if she could use the post I wrote, inspired by the Duke lacrosse rape case in a book to be published in the fall of 2007 called "At Issue: Date Rape". The book is a collection of contemporary articles and opinions written on the issue of date rape and I was flattered to have been included in the book that is distributed to high schools and colleges throughout the country. It’s one of the few things I have written for publication that I will actually be paid a decent amount for, which is exciting all on its own.
At about the same time, the news story broke that the Duke Lacrosse players are innocent.
And quickly to follow was a comment on my syndicated blog (from a criminal defense attorney) asking me this:
"The lives of these young men have been hurt by those who chose to rush to judgment. The question I pose to you is: will you have a follow-up blog, acknowledging your mistake? While sexual crimes against women are a serious problem, would you agree that failure to recognize the presumption of innocence is an equal affront to justice."
Did I state in my post that the Duke players were guilty? No. Did I assume that they were? Absolutely. As a woman, as a former PEER Educator, as someone who listened to friends sobbing on the phone about their own rape, and as someone who fought off a guy on a date gone wrong many years ago, that was the only possible assumption for me.
Do I owe the Duke lacrosse players an apology? Absolutely not. In my post last year I clearly stated that "the only thing worse than a group of guys sticking together and not saying a word about what they’ve done, is a "victim" who makes up the crime." I left open the possibility that it was made up. And I was right about the fact that a victim making up the crime is despicable. It’s beyond reproach, and it undermines every valid claim of rape that will be made in the future.
I want that woman to know that she has made it markedly more difficult for future rape victims. I want her to know that her lie has enabled many more rapists to get away with their crime because the victims will be afraid to come forward for fear of not being believed. I want her to know that, along with other women and men who made up the crime, she now shares in being a huge part of the problem with rapists, victims, and a culture that chooses to berate and beat up the victim all over again in court. I want her to know that I think she is pathetic; and that I hope the magnitude of what she did is very clear to her, and that she will have to live with that knowledge for the rest of her life.
In this case, the woman isn’t rich and therefore can not compensate the lacrosse players for what they went through. I am thankful that the players have been declared "innocent" instead of just having the charges dropped due to lack of evidence. They will be able to get their lives back and have future success.
I’d like to remind anyone irritated with me voicing my opinion a year ago that many rape victims never get their lives back and that they continue to be haunted by the crime.
But, as I quoted last year in my post, I’ll do so again regarding victims making up crimes:
"As Jim Hines states in his article:
‘It happens. It’s a legitimate fear. But it’s not one I’ve got a lot of sympathy for. Not compared to the people who lived every night in fear that their father, mother, or some other relative would come in and molest them. Not compared to the women who struggled through fear, violation, and helplessness after a boy they trusted turned out to be a rapist. Not compared to the vast number of men and women who did speak out about their victimization, only to be labeled liars and sluts.’"
We’re supposed to have a presumption of innocence in this country and while it’s a novel idea, it just doesn’t happen. The media often tries a case before a potential jury can even get their hands on it. It may not be right, but the assumption that I made about the lacrosse case is the same one a lot of other people made and was based on the information provided by the media, and by my own personal experiences.
Will I be more skeptical in the future if another incident like this happens? Potentially, but much of what we believe is based on who we are and what we’ve experienced; and there is absolutely no way I would doubt an alleged rape victim’s word until I have very good reason to do so.
Cracking
This is the time of year when people are typically cracking eggs; but I don’t like to be like everyone else. I’m a leader, not a follower, which is why I think I may have cracked a rib. Here’s a little quiz for you. . .
How did BBM potentially crack her rib?
A. Sparring with Mr. BBM
B. Working on bunkai (application) at the dojo
C. from a wrestling move from Lil C
D. by bending over and picking up a toy while sneezing
I know. It’s tempting to choose A right? Think of the posts that would follow, the back and foot rubs and cooked dinners that would result if Mr. BBM had indeed cracked or bruised my ribs. Oh, how I wish that were so. A gal can always use some pampering.
And then there’s working out at the dojo, which is also a tempting notion. Karate can be rough and it was only a matter of time before an injury would result, right? If that were the case, it would be a warrior injury. Unfortunately, a warrior I am not.
Then there’s C, as in Lil C. Lil C has found me to be very much like an animated playground these days. I have no doubt that she could crack or badly bruise a rib. It wouldn’t be hard for her to do so. She has often "attacked" me while I’m lying on my back and has no problem walking all over Mommy literally. But a Mommy injury it is not.
On Thursday morning, I was cleaning up Lil C’s room when I bent over at the waist to pick up a toy. In the process, I sneezed a ridiculous sneeze. When I stood up, I felt like someone had thrown a knife into my side. It hurt to take a deep breath, and I stood there, completely still for several minutes because the pain was so severe.
At first I thought it was heartburn, but after drinking a glass of baking soda and water and knowing that I am not pregnant, I quickly ruled this one out.
I then moved on to thinking I was having a heart attack. It’s entirely possible for a young woman to have a heart attack and the symptoms that I googled confirmed this belief. Mr. BBM was working from home that day and after his baking soda cocktail failed to provide relief, he was thinking my heart was failing me too. "Lift your arm up, do this, do that. Does your jaw hurt? Does your arm hurt?" he asked. He bombarded me with questions since he’s an avid googler himself. When I didn’t get worse, we ruled the heart attack out.
I moved on to cancer. That’s where everyone goes at some point when being plagued by odd symptoms, so I did as well. I ruled out cancer and was puzzled. What the heck was wrong with me?
When night rolled around, I was still hurting and I talked to my Mom who happens to be a nurse.
"I bet you cracked a rib," she said. She went on to say that tall, thin people are more prone to these types of injuries and that it’s not unheard of for someone to crack a rib from a sneeze or cough. My Mom, as much as I hate to admit this, is almost always right. I googled "cracked or broken rib" and there it was: more pain on the exhale than inhale, intolerable to be on back or side, pain increases drastically when laughing. . . uh-huh, uh-huh, uh-huh, yeah.
So apparently there is nothing you can do for a cracked or broken rib. You just have to wait and let time heal the wound. I haven’t gone to the doctor and don’t think I will go, since I haven’t chosen a new doctor since this happened. If it gets worse, I’ll go. For now, I’m trying not to twist or laugh while sitting. Both are painful. And at night, I have to sleep on my right side or else I wake up in pain. Holding Lil C, especially on the left side has been uncomfortable. Fun.
I’m hoping I can continue to go to karate, avoiding sparring obviously. We’ll see how this week goes. I am hoping I only bruised a rib, not cracked it. I’ve read you can dislocate ribs too, and the popping/cracking sound I heard when bending and twisting at the grocery store says that maybe that’s the problem.
The biggest problem I’m having right now though, is slowing down and resting. After a weekend full of birthday parties, t-ball, a Team Mom meeting, and entertaining guests and two very cranky, tired children. . . I am exhausted. And we haven’t even started dying eggs in the BBM household yet. Here’s to a crack free rest of the week with some actual rest.
“I’m too big”
Dear Big I,
Today, at 1:29 a.m., you will turn six years old. This is not news to you because you’ve been counting down the days since about December. Tonight at the grocery store, instead of climbing into the truck shopping cart with your sister, you stood back and watched her climb in before saying, "I’m too big to get in there." Daddy said he felt his heart break a little bit, and I’d be lying if I didn’t say that mine did as well. This is nothing new for either of us because each year of watching you turn a new number has brought excitement mixed with a bit of sadness. You’re growing up so fast.
This has been such a year of changes for us. You went from being a stay-at-home kid to being a Kindergarten girl. It wasn’t a transition that was easy for either of us; but you weathered it like a pro and have made Daddy and I so proud. You’ve learned many things over the past year: how to tie your shoes by yourself, how to sound out words, and count to 100. You’ve also learned that sometimes kids can be mean. But along with that, you’ve learned to let things roll off your shoulders and to stick up for yourself when necessary. That was a lesson I was hoping you would wait a few more years to have to learn.
I’ve watched you grow from a little girl into a big girl this year and saw your independence like never before. I’ve also seen the struggle you’ve gone through between wanting to remain a baby versus growing up. I don’t blame you on the days you’d rather stay little.
Today was a beautiful day and we spent much of the day outside playing together, you, me and Lil C. It was an ordinary day except that I kept thinking about the fact that on this day six years ago, I was in labor anxiously awaiting your arrival. Six years later, you stand tall enough to be on a collision course with my elbows on a daily basis, but I am still your number one playmate. I don’t know how many more years that will be the case. So, today will be one of the many days that I lock away in my memory for safe keeping.
When I think about the fact that Kindergarten is quickly coming to an end, and that you’ll be leaving me to go to school all day next year, I could just sob. There are some days that I just can’t wait until you get home from school. But I’m going to try not to get ahead of myself and instead think about the whole summer we have to spend together.
You are a beautiful young lady, inside and out. I can’t wait to see what "6" brings. Happy Birthday Big I!
I love you,
Mommy
If you’d like to read Big I’s birth story, you can do so here.
Nothing
I have been ridiculously sick since the weekend. The only way it is possible for me to not go through a box of tissues every five minutes is if I take cold medicine. I don’t do well on cold medicine at all. Even if I take the child’s dose, cold medicine equals coma for me.
Apparently Benadryl also kills creative juices because I have absolutely nothing to say, unless of course you’d like to hear about how many tissues I’ve been through in the past few days or the fact that I could really use someone to flip the covers on and off me at 5-minute intervals throughout the night because the chills/hot flashes are coming at about that frequency.
Yes, it has been a fun week. I am almost completely convinced that Lil C’s allergic reaction gave me such stress that it sent me spiraling into a sinus infection/flu/allergy nightmare. (She is now 100% fine by the way, and thank you for all your reassuring comments and concern.)
I’ve noticed a lot of bloggers opening up the floor and asking readers what they’d like to know. So since I am lacking any and all material this week and since karate class is looking like it won’t be happening this week, I invite you to pose a question to Black Belt Mama. I can’t guarantee I’ll answer them all, and I really can’t guarantee that I’ll even remember writing this post because, well, Benadryl. But if there’s something you’re dying to know, ask away in the comments section or email me at bbm at blackbeltmama dot com. I’ll answer the questions in an upcoming post.
And please, ask me something because I really don’t want to have to, in a Benadryl induced semi-conscious state, create questions to answer because you were all too lazy to help me out. In the interest of me not having to create my own pathetic questions, I’ll provide links to your blog if you ask one. So ask away. . .
And that about does it for today. Where’s my Benadryl?
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