SHOUTING WILL SOLVE THIS

Apparently the assault riffle used in the most recent (fuck, most recent. Let that sink in) school shooting was bought legally. But legal or illegal, why does anyone have an assault riffle in the first place? And why do NRA paid politicians give those same objects assault weapons more rights and protections than humans women and children?

This is the 18th school shooting for 2018. EIGHTEENTH. THIRTY-FIVE DAYS INTO THE YEAR.
I know once you start shouting you have lost your argument, but I don't know what else to do at this moment. This is becoming normal and IT SHOULDN'T BE NORMAL.

Selfishly I think: how do I protect my children? I can save my girl from a ladybug on the playground, but a bullet at school where I'm not? Maybe I should home school the kids so they don't have to be a victim of another (because there will be another) school shooting. Or buy them bullet proof vests with the rest of their school supplies. Do they make those in size 5T? (my girl is tiny-she may be that size by kindergarten) WHY DO I EVEN HAVE TO WORRY ABOUT THIS?

Why does ANYONE WORRY ABOUT THIS? FIX THIS BULLSHIT.

Long Jacket

So, I've already got something to hold over the this next kid's head. Also: thank god it was winter and my coat covers me to about mid thigh.

Before we were telling people I was expecting I was trying to hide (and usually failing) how miserable I felt at times. But other times...
Trigger warning: this is hilarious but disgusting.
We're out to lunch and my stomach/intestines were giving me first trimester nonsense. I went to the bathroom and sat to wait it out. After waiting for a while and nothing happening, everything happened. My stomach revolted and I had a half second to throw myself backwards, bend at the waist and I throw up all over myself. All. Over. I didn't take anything with me to the bathroom (because that's gross) so I was trapped.   

I waited a few minutes until someone else came into the bathroom, and when they finished washing their hands I called out: "excuse me...Um, in the first stall here. Hi, I'm pregnant and I had a bit of an accident..."
I asked a stranger in the bathroom to find my husband (and daughter) in the restaurant, tell him I'm okay, but I need my purse and coat. I thank her profusely when she comes back bringing both, assure I'm okay and thank her again. In my purse I have a plastic bag (to throw up in though lot of good it did me there), wipes to clean up, and my phone to text Mike what the hell is going on.

In the next few minutes I get as much of my lunch off of my clothes into the toilet, bag up all my clothes, and wipe up what the clothes didn't "catch." I button my coat, pull up my knee socks (those were clean), and texted my husband: I'm leaving the bathroom now. I'll meet you at the car. Took a deep breath, grabbed my bags, put my head down and walked out of the McCalisters in just my coat. We're pulling out of the parking lot when I get sick again and throw up out the window of the car. (sorry about that honey...but we're both really glad I made it out the window) And to add insult to injury, I still haven't done what I was waiting to do in the bathroom in the first place!

At home, I take a bath, everything eventually leaves my system in the privacy of my bathroom and I feel better okay enough. The kid takes a nap, and Mike and I settle on the couch to watch football. He asks how I'm doing and I ruefully say: that trench coat fantasy is not what it's cracked up to be.

Menagerie

Little Turkey is Little Turkey because she was due around Thanksgiving.
Little Lion is Little Lion because they're due late July and will be a Leo.
I'm growing quite the zoo.

Thanksgiving Play, Act 2, Scene 3

Since we've been in North Carolina, dr soc and I have hosted Thanksgiving. Neither one of us really has the time from work and now with Little Turkey's birthday, hosting has been what works best for us. We know what works as far as the food, guests sleeping arrangements and things to do, so the weekend runs well, is a lot of fun and we look forward to it.  
But in the issue of full disclosure: it did not start that way. It started like this:

--SCENE SET UP--   

I cook. Dr soc cleans kitchen behind me, including stuff still being used. I use another spoon/dish/pan since I can't find anything. Dr soc washes new dirtied item. We continue to get in each other's way throughout the day. Tempers shorten at 1:1 ratio of missing:dirty items.

--BEGIN SCENE--

me: (pour olive oil in pan. decide to forgo whatever meal that was. look for clear space and place pan on top of drying rack to left of the sink)
dr soc: (sees pan with liquid. grab dish towel. start wiping oil)
me: (blurt across kitchen) Oh no honey! That's not water, that's olive oil!
dr soc: (exasperated) Then why was it on the clean side?
me: (completely frazzled. look at dr soc)
dr soc: (eyes widen. throw up hands) Sorry! I'm sorry! (backs out of kitchen-fearful) 

--the next hour--

dr soc: (slink* into the kitchen to clean)
me: (see slinking. screech) I'm not done! (flail hands) Still using that! (strangled incoherent gargle) 
dr soc: (leave kitchen)

(repeat 2-3 more times at random intervals throughout flurry of holiday activity)
--END SCENE--

At the time it was just ridiculous but now it's one of my favorite memories and I crack up whenever I tell it (seriously I'm giggling hard core right now). But needless to say, we've gotten a lot better.

*this is very hard to do with an open plan like we have

Fall Game

So we upped our fall game this year.
We took the kid to a pumpkin patch:

Yeah, I leashed her. She loves the monkey backpack
and oh yeah she's my kid so your opinion is invalid

We did a group costume including the dog for Halloween:

Our Peanuts Gang from L to R: Snoopy, Peppermint Patty,
Charlie Brown, Lucy and Linus (Jules!) VanPelt trick-or-treating

And the pumpkin from the pumpkin patch was carved in the group costume theme:

Totally squelched a F-bomb when the head fell in.
Next year I'm just carving a face.
Or whatever the almost 3 year old tells me

But what really upped the fall game from last year: it was all documented on Instagram, so it really happened.
Happy Autumn!

#MeToo

Of course I've been sexually harassed.
I mean, I did things like going for runs in shorts and a tank top since it was 90-billion degrees. I've walked from point A to point B and my "gorgeous ass!" got a shout out. (which it is, but that's not the point.) I've been as brazen as to stand still and my backside got brushed. And let's not forget I was a bartender, a flirty, super cute young 20 something with a great figure at that. Of course I was there for (mostly older, mostly white) males to ogle and comment on. For goodness sake, what did I expect?

Wait. Hold on-

Oh but I also know to never leave my drink unattended at a party. And to not wear my headphones, be on (or even have out) my phone and to be aware of my surroundings at all times when walking alone - which you should never do in the first place. It's also not smart to wear my hair in a ponytail, or have any sort of strap across or on my body so you are harder to grab and assault. And -

Wait! Wait! Seriously, hold on. 

What did I expect? What are the preventive actions I'm supposed to do to not get raped? What am I supposed to wear? To not wear? Who's going to believe me if I ever am assaulted? Why is it my responsibility when my female body is regulated by men in the first place? 

So yeah. #MeToo. I bet everyone, and I mean everyone, has some sort of #MeToo story of their own. And by all means yes, shed some light on this and show how ubiquitous this all is. Hell, use a floodlight and keep it on this issue. But could we also: #BelieveTheVictim, #Don'tRape and #StopRapeCulture too?