Uppercase Woman

Teenagers & Sex

Before I start writing this post, I'm going to put in two important disclaimers:

1) I am not currently the parent of a teenager considering or having sex.

2. I personally happily engaged in teenage sex.

So there is no doubt that both of those details are going to strongly inform what I'm about to say.

.   .   .

A few years back I took several really wonderful anthropology courses from an amazing teacher and one of the many interesting things I learned from her is that the idea of adolescence--a period between childhood and adulthood--is relatively new in the million or so years of human history. In fact, it's basically been just a blip; only in the last two hundred or so years has there been this idea of an in between time, a not-quite-a-kid, but not yet ready to engage in adult behavior period.

Of course, it's really only been in the last two hundred or so years that humans have lived long enough to be able to have the luxury of five or so years of young people with grown up bodies but undeveloped, immature minds and hearts. Prior to that, people (and when I say people I mean women) had to start having babies when they were teenagers so they could maximize their fertile time since only about a quarter (or much less) of their children were likely to survive to adulthood.

In other words, no one really had time to go around saying things like "dry humping only" and "save it for your wedding night!" because girls were being married off even before they menstruated and were unlikely to have spent much time thinking about sex prior to their weddings. (There was a whole other cultural dynamic going on for boys during human history prior to oh, the last thirty years or so, that I am not going to get into here).

Now, of course, it's very different. We do live 80 or more years, we do have time to wait five years or more to enjoy our youthful bodies without engaging in sexual behavior if we choose. But here's the thing; we have not yet evolved to the point where our bodies don't want to have sex when we're fifteen years old. Nor have young women begun to menstruate later and later to accommodate the cultural idea of adolescence (in fact, the opposite is true).

Additionally, up until the last two hundred or so years, young men and women were not at leisure as teenagers. They were working hard in fields and villages. They did not have a lot of extra energy to devote to pursuing each other to get all hot and heavy. I'm sure some kids managed--but were also probably married off in short order.

So what we have now is a bunch of young men and women with nearly grown-up bodies basically at leisure with plenty of time and desire for sex, sex, and more sex. We culturally impose this idea of "rebellion" on them and then tell them NOT TO HAVE SEX.

So we have horny, restless, bored, and rebellious young people. What the fuck else are they going to do?

Obviously, parents can impress upon young people cultural and religious beliefs and hope and pray that they honor the tenets of those beliefs, and wait until marriage. And many do. I'm not saying it's impossible; I merely think it's unlikely. Unrealistic.

I think the best plan is to arm kids with all the information about how their bodies work that they can handle (for instance, I wish I'd known about shit like cervical mucus prior to when I started trying to conceive), arm them with all the information that is available about birth control and diseases, teach them how to make safe, smart choices, how to trust their instincts, perhaps some self defense tricks for girls and some caution for boys (like how to tell if a girl doesn't really want to have sex, how to protect himself from being accused of assault, that sort of thing), and then sit back and hope for the best.

My mother did that with me (maybe not all of it, but a lot). I had sex very early; I was (OK, sit down, conservatives) 14. But! I was in love, I stayed with that boy for nearly five years, he was very, very kind to me and I'd carefully researched birth control and had already been on the pill for a month before we went ahead (believe it or not, this was all pre-HIV--that's how fucking old I am). I do not feel like I made a mistake, or feel traumatized. In fact, I view it fondly and am still in touch with the (no longer so) young man (I could link to his web page, but I'm not sure that would be nice--heh) and we are still friends. I had the best possible first experience that a young woman can have--I truly believe that.

So. Let the comments fly--but please, be respectful at least of each other, even if you aren't going to be respectful of me. OK?

Those Topics You Wanted Me To Write About

We're nearing the end of NaBloPoMo, and I haven't covered nearly all of those topics you were kind enough to suggest I write about last month. And since you've been so kind and helping me with work stuff (if you are in the mood, you can go again and Digg this NEW article for me, thank you ever so much, I promise not to ask again for a while--you have no idea how much this is helping me with work), I figured I would take this next-to-last day and answer all of them.

Yep, all of them. Ready? Speed topics!

1. Susan asked what I think about the Canadian health care system. Frankly, I know fuck-all about it except that you lucky bastards have one where the government pays for basic medical stuff and then if you have a nice employer they give you additional coverage that pays for things like chiropractic care, and that every time I talk about health care here someone from Canada complains about waiting six hours in the emergency room in Canada. All I can say is, I'm totally jealous. As a privately insured individually here, I've waited 6+ hours in an emergency room many, many, many times--so it's not just a problem of socialized medicine. It's a problem with emergency rooms. So you guys have it gooooooood.

2. Melody asked how I feel about the Duke Lacrosse story now that the dust has all settled. I know this is a leading question on her part because she has always believed that the Lacrosse players were innocent. All I can say is, only the woman at the heart of the story knows what happened, and if she says she was raped, I believe her and I always will. One out of four women in this country is sexually assaulted at some point in their lives. I am one of those women; I was not believed; I will always believe the others.

3. Jenn asked me about sex after having kids. Since I have no idea what she's talking about, I'll let that one go. Oh, and if you see my sex drive? Send it home.

4. Wordnerd asked me about plus-sized pregnancy. This really deserves its own post, and I'll come back to it another time, but I wanted to link to this most awesome site that has some great support and suggestions. That site gave me the frame work for interviewing obstetricians, and really gave me a self-esteem boost about the whole process. The good? Not looking pregnant (I just looked fatter), and not getting a lot of inappropriate public touching and advice. The bad? Not looking pregnant and getting the accolades, and of course, the fucking clothing issues (the only place I found decent clothes is J.C. Penney online).

5. Kristin asked many things, one already addressed above, but I will answer just this one: no, no more kids for us.

6. Laura asked how I got my name. My mom grew up in the tiny little town of St. Joseph, Illinois (outside of Champagne-Urbana) and her best friend that lived across the street was named Cecily. Cecily is, ironically, a lovely amazon of a woman that is nearly six feet tall. Since I am only 5'2", Cec calls me, fondly, a dwarf. Cecily, if you were wondering, means blind.

7. Mimi asked what I think about politicians and celebrities popping into rehabs whenever they get into trouble for anything (including Larry Craig and his gay-bathroom-sex thing). All I can say is, rehab centers are a huge for-profit industry. They never turn anyone away--unless, of course, they can't pay.

8. Vita asked several questions. First about the Dutch health care system; see my answer about Canadian above--in short, jealous! Secondly, what would I saw to Tori at 16? I would say this: Tori, you aren't as fat as you think you are, I promise. Third, the only thing I miss about my life before Tori is the easy belief I had in God, and that was really before I lost the twins. Fourth, what we hear about Europe in the news varies drastically by medium. In print, you get a decent amount; maybe 5% of all coverage is about the rest of the world (I know; but 20% is advertising, 20% is fucking sports, 10% is movies/tv/gossip, and the rest is local and domestic stuff). On the radio, well, if it's NPR, you get plenty of information about Europe. If it's talk radio, you get almost nothing (talk radio is primarily focused on one end of the political spectrum or other and simply hammers home one message per show). On television, major network news may give a minute or two to Europe a night, but it's not much (however, some shows that devote an hour to news may give that full time to one European issue occasionally). CNN/Fox/et all, which run news 24 hours a day, you would THINK would provide extensive and insightful information about the entire world, but they don't. They run the same twenty minutes or so worth of information over and over and over endlessly, or will spend three hours on a police chase in Alabama. I (not to sound sanctimonious or anything) get a decent amount of information about Europe by listening to the BBC's News Hour every day on my local NPR station.

9. Chickenpig asked what I think about the various political candidates. Sigh. Here's a brief rundown on the two front runners; I think Giuliani is a fraud (did you know that the communications issues that caused the death of so many in the second World Trade Center tower was well known since the 1993 World Trade Center bombing, and in fact Giuliani's office repressed that information for three and a half years?) and I think Hillary Clinton is hardly ideal. But I know who I'll vote for, and who I hope will win. I'm sure you all know who that is.

10. Laura asked if I've ever considered writing longer works, like a book or a novel. The short answer? Yes. What? You wanted more?

11. Lauren asked me about my views on sex, drugs, rock and roll, homosexuality, babies, and religion--basically, she said, anything I wouldn't discuss at the dinner table.  Clearly, Lauren, you have never eaten at my table.  And I am for all of the above (yes, even the drugs--she didn't specify legal or illegal!).

12. Ang asked what it's like being on the "other side" of infertility. It's funny--it doesn't feel like a different side--but infertility no longer feels like a crushing weight. Seeing pregnant people no longer bothers me, holding babies is fun, I no longer long for anything baby-related (except maybe the younger Tori and the easier non-toddling days). That is nice. The funny thing is, those still struggling for their first child often feel like I no longer understand. But I do, I really do.

13. Ellen asked about teaching Tori about having a healthy sexuality. I promised you all I'd get to that, and I will--tomorrow (hey, it's a great way to close out the month!).

14. The Aitch asked about sex, how it compares now to my younger years. That one's easy: then, I had it. Now, I don't. Heh.

15. Hetty asked me if there is anything Republicans and I agree about. I almost didn't want to answer her cause then she dissed one of my favorite authors, Anne Lamott (who is, admittedly, rabidly anti-Republican). Heh. Truthfully, there just isn't very much. Perhaps on tort reform there might be some common ground, but that's it. Basically, I'm totally a tax-and-spend liberal; I think government exists to help provide for and protect its people. So it's not likely we'd have much in common.

16. Ashley asked if I've had any arguments with people in my real life about things that have come up in my blog. Yes, but not about things like politics. I've had posts I've written about family backfire and really hurt people (I've since removed them); I've had one post about my dog lead to a long email discussion with a friend. But mostly it's been very, very positive.

17. Liz asked about the migraines. You already have heard a lot about them this month, but she asked if I had more money if there is anything else I would try. Yes! I would get a massage and a chiropractic adjustment every week if I could afford it, and I would also do weekly acupuncture. Both of those alternative medical treatments, I have found, are amazingly helpful and effective. I would LOVE LOVE LOVE to be able to do them regularly. Sadly, going once in a while offers some help but not the improvement you see with regular treatment. Oh well.

Whew! That's all of them. Aren't you glad? One more day. One more day. One more day.

Bizarre Info For The Day

So, today we took Tori to a local church's Nursery School for their Parent's Morning Out Program (one morning a week, 9 am to noon, $60 a month--awesome!) so I could have a few toddler free hours to get work done. It's a lovely, huge place, with each room for the kids large and sprawling, and a nice, warm feeling that I just loved. Tori promptly forgot we were there when she saw the toys, so I left her in their capable hands to go fill out the paperwork with the director and she told me the most interesting thing.

You know the rabbits on the Teletubbies? Well, it turns out that they aren't normal. They are FUCKING HUGE. Apparently the director's father is a biologist and he became a tad obsessed with the fact that if the people inside the Teletubby costumes were adults, the rabbits were not the proportional, so he did some research. It turns out that they Brits (ok, some sites say they are Danish) breed this huge four-foot long bunny special.

That is all.

PS: Digg this?

Things I'm Thinking About (Or, one of those list posts cause I'm busy as fuck all)

1. Julie's possible good news. Squee!

2. This makes me very sad. For some reason, mostly because I haven't been to the Smithsonian in years, I had no idea they were all free admission. Last year they collected only $90,000 in donations at the door. This is just embarrassing. Sure, there was mismanagement and all (it IS government run, after all) but this is our heritage, people. Step the fuck up.

3. Five of my 12 pounds came back, courtesy of Thanksgiving and too many meals out. Eh.

4. Funny how everyone thinks Tori looks like me when she's screaming and crying. Why is that? I'm always smiling in the photos I post here. Maybe it's the double chins? Speaking of that, I have a post brewing about projecting my weight issues on Tori (I've been worrying about her pot belly; it's fucking me up). Will get to it this week.

5. New post up at the work blog (or will be very, very soon). Oh, and would you guys do me a favor? Can you all go and "Digg" this article for me? It's a work thing. I know you have to register, and if you don't want to, I totally understand. But thank you anyway!

Santa!

It worked out so well last year; the Monday after Thanksgiving we trekked out to the mega mall and dumped Tori on the lap of some strange man dressed up like an old elf.

So, we did it again. Same Santa. Not quite the same results.

Dealing With The Grieving

Tertia recently got an email from someone that was similar to emails I get now and again; the email basically said, "I know someone just lost a baby/pregnancy/child/husband/sister, and I don't know how to approach them, but you lost your kids, so what do I do?" This inspired her to ask a bunch of us who've been through something similar to write about their experience with grief and dealing with other people. Here's my take.

Many of you were around during the worst of my grief and sadness in losing my sons when I was 22.5 weeks pregnant. What can I say about it? It completely fucking sucked. It was like having the rug pulled out from under me, like finding out that God was dead, and like, well, losing a fucking pregnancy nearly two thirds of the way through it (it was a twin pregnancy, so by twin pregnancy standards, I was two thirds through). There was such a sense of being fucking robbed; it was just awful.

But I got through it, and you know what? There is no way out but through. You can not beat the grief, hide from it, will it away, eat it away (although I sure tried), drink it away (would have loved to give that one a go, but I know better) or anything it away. Grief is just a process that has to be slogged through. It doesn't, in my experience, really ever end--it merely reaches a level of manageability and tolerability that means you can eventually get to a point where taking a deep breath doesn't make you cry and seeing a twin stroller doesn't feel like an actual blow to the chest.

I think that is one of the things that surprised me the most about grief; it is damned physical. I felt heavy, like my limbs all had 100-pound weights attached to them, and each memory or moment of painful sadness ranged from a dull throb to an actual needle-sharp stabbing agony. It is not all in our heads; grief permeates our cells and fills us  head to toe with dread and sadness. If it were a color, it would be gray shot through with the colors of flames, burning as much as it left dry, dead ash in it's place.

It is no longer as acute, the pain of losing my sons. And I now have much more perspective on my loss. This week I'm getting together with a woman who also loss twins on the anniversary of her loss. She delivered her sons and had to watch them die. I am so fucking blessed that I was spared that; she is so much stronger than I am to have endured it. Tertia is stronger than I am to have been able to hold Ben and lose him anyway, but a terrible part of me is horribly jealous that she got to see his face. That is what grief does to you; it makes you alternately gracious and kind, and also small and mean.

I'd had other losses before that hurt badly. My dear friend Web who killed himself, and my grandparents. Other losses of places and people that didn't involve death but were agonizing all the same. But nothing like the loss of my boys. Nothing like that. That was horrid.

Since Tertia led this charge to help people know how to offer comfort to the grieving, I will first say this. A lot of people said a lot of things to me after I lost the twins. By some miracle, I didn't kill any of them that said things like, "They are in a better place," or "God called them home." (Although I did say to someone, "Well, then, God's a selfish bastard.") The best one? "I'm so sorry." There is nothing else to say. If that was accompanied by a hug, or better, some chocolate, that was great.

The only other thing that someone told me was the Buddhist theory on stillborn and miscarried babies. I've mentioned it here multiple times, but it's so good, I'll say it again. The Buddhists believe that babies lost before they live are souls that have already taken many turns on this earth, and they have already endured all the suffering they needed to. They merely needed to touch on this earth one last time long enough to be loved, and they get to stop being reincarnated and go straight to Nirvana. I love that. I love the idea of my boys in Nirvana. I hope they are happy.

I think the biggest thing about grief is that when someone you love is experiencing it, you have to be PATIENT. Some days they will laugh, and then they will spend nine days in row where they won't put any clothes on or bathe. Just accept this. Don't cajole. Don't force. Don't go out and buy them antidepressants (unless they want them, or they are doing harm to themselves. Nine days without bathing is not harm). Let them BE. Or, if they want to get drunk and pick up guys, DON'T let them be. Go with them! Just allow them to go through the process they need to go through. I am so glad I had this blog; without it, I think my friends would have found me unbearable. I've been reading Patty's blog and she is struggling so hard with the holidays. It's painful to read her blog, but I won't turn away. She needs to be hear. That's what all people grieving need.  Or at least, that's what I needed.

Patience, love, kindness. Those seem to be the basic watchwords with grief (or, with all, actually). I am so grateful people did that for me.

I hope this helps people. I'm not an expert, at all. But when Tertia says jump, we jump. :)

Migraines and Medication: Update

I know I've been updating about this constantly, but it's NaBloPoMo so give me a break, alright?

So, two weeks into the new Topomax regimen and I got my first real migraine today since I started that new drug. I thought I had a migraine last week, but then that headache didn't respond to migraine meds and I realized it was a sinus headache connected to my cold and it needed some elicit (had to beg the pharmacist and get my driver's license scanned to buy it) pseudoephedrine instead. But today's migraine was a doozy, with nice visual disturbances (the ceiling was covered with vibrating black spots) and pain like a knife in my skull.

But I was grateful. You might find that hard to believe, but you have no idea how long it's been since I've gone two whole weeks without a migraine. At least a year. Maybe two. This one responded nicely to meds and I felt pretty good for the rest of the day.

The other bizarre thing is that the appetite/weight loss side effect has finally appeared. Truthfully it doesn't feel like my appetite has been suppressed, but it does feel--for the first time in my life--like my stomach finally has a natural OFF button. I don't know how else to explain it. This must be how normal eaters feel; when they are full, they stop eating and push the plate away. This never happens to me. NEVER. Really. I always--always--have room for more.

Last night I opened a small snack bag of dark chocolate peanut M&Ms and ate one and realized I didn't really want them--so I put them away. Perhaps you didn't hear me; I PUT THEM THE FUCK AWAY. This doesn't happen to me!

Throughout my history with food, I have sometimes--with vigorous work and discipline and much self-denial--managed to eat only half of what's on my plate, or weigh and measure my meals, or refuse certain kinds of food (say, food with sugar or flour). But it has always--ALWAYS--been a huge, immense struggle. It's been painful and excruciating at the worst times, and a mere a pain in the ass at the best. It never becomes habit, it never becomes easy, and it always leads to misery and, eventually, failure.

And the pounds always come back.

But now, with this drug, my eating habits have just suddenly and easily changed; at first, I hardly even noticed (in fact, my habits had begun to change when I was still denying it). Now, my weight has dropped. I've lost 12 pounds. Now close your mouths and remember that this comes with migraines and don't get too excited. Plus, 12 pounds for someone my size is like a half pound for a normal weight person (OK, maybe a whole pound).

I don't know if this side effect will last, or if I will continue to need this medication. But for now, I am enjoying the freedom that I feel not being a slave to the food. It's just the oddest thing. It really is. Is this how the rest of you live?

Even that new car smell can't keep me awake

So, it turns out buying a new car is EXHAUSTING. But we did it.

:)

We are now the proud owners of a blue 2007 Hyundai Entourage GLS. It's lovely. We did pretty well on the deal, not as well as some of you sharks would have (I'm sure) but better than we would have without your advice. It took fucking forever, and Tori nearly wiped out poor Sarah back at the house while we were at the dealership, but it's over.

And the best part? I NEVER HAVE TO SEE THAT STUPID SUBARU EVER AGAIN. EVER.

There are a million reasons why the minivan is awesome, but can I just gush about the cup holders? If you don't know this already, the 1999 Subaru Legacy Outback has a "pop out" cup holder between the middle air vents and the radio. Not only is it the flimsy plastic equivalent of one-third of six-pack ring, but once you put a drink in it--even a tiny, itsy bitty little Red Bull--you cannot access the radio or the climate controls or see what the fuck time it is. This, as you can imagine, DROVE ME NUTS.

The Entourage, on the other hand, has roughly 432 cup holders placed every two or three inches throughout the van so that you never have to fully extend your hand to reach a drink. OK, that's a slight exaggeration. But there are two below the gear shift, four on that cool little center "table" between the drivers and passengers seat, and the front doors both have accommodating bulges in their side bins for large bottles of water. There are an additional six or eight cup holders for Tori to use in the back seat, plus I'm sure if I hunted for it, a secure place to secure Hammer's dog bowl.

IT'S A MAGIC MINIVAN, PEOPLE.

We are so happy. And tomorrow, after we've rested, we will drive it with great joy.

T-Day

Stuffed. Content. Grateful.

As it should be.

Five Reasons The World Has Gone Stark, Raving Mad

1. Today, a nun called me a saint. It involved a traffic accident (I wasn't in it, she was, I witnessed) and I feel like the accident was kind of my fault (I told her she could cut across in front of me, and neither she nor I saw the speeding maniac that came out of nowhere and t-boned her) but it was sweet of her and I'm glad I could help a bit.

2. My favorite 6'2" transgendered stripper-turned-strip-club-bartender is now working at the customer service desk at the K-Mart a few blocks from my house.

3. It nearly December and it was 62 degrees and sunny here in Philadelphia after TWO WEEKS of fucking freezing cold rainy days; tomorrow is expected to be the warmest Thanksgiving Day on record.

4. For the first time in nearly a dozen years I am heading toward Christmas and NOT WORKING IN RETAIL.

5. Tomorrow is Thanksgiving Day, and I have more to be grateful for than can fit into 24 hours.