Health care - not an inflamatory post but political in nature

Daniel and I were cruising down the Beltway today, headed to Dr. K's. No, not the Kroger-brand Dr. Pepper, thank-you-very-much. I was thinking about how horrible it must have been to be a baby 200 years ago when Amoxil hadn't been invented yet. Wow. Poor kids. Cloth diapers, no Desitin, no antibiotics, no a/c, no footie pajamas. Ok yes, I'm getting carried away. But seriously. What did mamas do when their babies had ear infections? I was suddenly struck by a rogue thought - isn't that how millions upon millions of babies go through life today? I amended my question - What DO mamas do when their babies HAVE ear infections?

That thought opened the door for a whole other slew of thoughts. This one is the point of this blog - I honestly think that people who vehemently support the health care bill (henceforth referred to as "liberals") believe that people who oppose the health care bill (henceforth referred to as "conservatives") don't give a rip about what those mamas do. I happen to be pretty conservative, especially for my age, and I really, truly, honestly do care about those mamas. It actually stings a bit for me to think that my liberal friends probably believe that I don't care. What I don't understand is why those liberal friends a) would even come close to drawing that conclusion based on my opposition of universal health care and b) why Washington (and those who support the public option) believe that we have to "level the playing field" and demand that every man, woman, and child in America partake of a system designed to help "those mamas." While I believe that health care should be available and affordable (heck, in some cases, even free), especially for infants who have no means to provide for themselves, I do NOT believe that I should be subjected to substandard care as a means to provide for "those mamas." Why does that make me a right-wing, conservative nut job?

This, by the way, is an open forum. If you can respectfully answer a or b, please do! Or if you can offer up an opinion that might sway me on a or b, please do!

Anyway, I generally keep my mouth shut about most things (make that all things) political. But this thought just kept nagging at me today and I thought I'd throw it out there as food for thought. Thanks for listening.

Yesterday

Yesterday was . . . rough. And fun. And exhausting. But not so bad when I really think about it. The day started as any other - Daniel calling for mama, mama feeding Daniel, mama and Daniel playing until it's time to do something else. We made it to book babies on a Wednesday, which is really unusual for us. We got there a little early so we went to the park to play. Mama wasn't paying THAT much attention to what Daniel was doing at the bottom of the slide. Yup. Daniel was sloshing the rain water all over himself at the bottom of the slide. Sweet. Wet clothes never hurt anybody. Well, not seriously, anyway. Then Daniel decided that the swing set was THE place to be. Sweet. Sand. And wet clothes. It's a really good thing that mama firmly believes that little ones should splash in puddles, run barefoot through the mud, and do any other number of things to enjoy life in the simplest of ways. Mama had a change of clothes in the car (and will now stop writing in the third person). I'm quite sure the library cleaning crew did not thank me for "bathing" my kid in their sink. Oh well. That's what they get for being so close to the park. :o)

Anyway, the day continued. Book babies, nap, the usual. We went to Kroger and Daniel got his cookie. Woohoo! He starts chanting "cookie, cookie, cookie" any time we even get near Kroger. That's unfortunate, because we drive by Kroger often. Sometimes his chant is productive, but it usually just ends with me trying to distract him with, "Daniel! What sound does a lion make?" I guess he ate his cookie too fast or maybe just had his finger too far into his mouth. Whatever happened, he up-chucked all over himself, the car seat, and everything in between. Enter impromptu and emergency bath #2 of the day. I learned a LOT about our car seat yesterday. I had NO idea those straps could come off, much less go in the washing machine. Very handy tidbit of information!

Earlier in the day, my parents called and insisted on coming over to bring me several boxes of garage sale junk and some old trophies (what am I supposed to do with those??). I was really put off, until all of this happened. By the time they got here, I had the car seat situation under control but man. . . I needed a breather. Thank God they were really ready to be rid of my memorabilia. My dad kept Daniel busy with Nemo and some toys while I took care of sandy and otherwise yucky clothes, cleaned up the bathroom, finished taking care of my car, and generally gathered my wits. Thank God for parents who live nearby and who don't mind dropping by when Doug isn't around.

All in all, my timing sucked yesterday. I whined about all of the wrong things. I got chocolate chip cookie bits all over me, my baby, and our stuff. My husband didn't get home from class until nearly 10. And it was STILL a good day. I guess my point is this - it hasn't always been my strong suit, but by God. I believe I could enter the Glad Game World Series and quite possibly walk away with at least the bronze medal. Life is clearly all about perspective.

Nothing good

I've always wanted to write a book. About what? No idea. I've also always felt that I don't have anything worth writing about that would interest enough people to necessitate publishing a book.

I finished The Fountainhead night before last. I loved it. What was it about? Love, really. Not architecture or socialism or objectivism. But love. And some of that other stuff mixed in. It makes me wonder what happened to Ayn Rand that makes her have such sick, twisted views about relationships and sex. With her, I feel like I have now entered the twilight zone. Bizarre. Violent. Possessive. It made me think that if something that . . . creepy . . . has to happen to me to give me something worth writing a book about, forget it. I'll stick to my blog. Thank you very much.

When I finished reading about Dominique and Howard Roark, I picked up where I left off with the Furies books. That leads me to another interesting thought. Where do fantasy and sci-fi authors get this stuff? Dreams? Man. My dreams are just innane and strange. Saturday, I dreamt that I was on a mission to find alpaca underwear. Monday, I dreamt that I lost my clothes and when I found them, they were covered in ants. How did Middle Earth come about? Was JRR just sitting around in his alpaca underwear, covered in ants, and say to himself, "Mordor. That's just south of the Misty Mountains. I think a bodiless, demon man should live there and should seek to control the world through fear and hate. Yes. I'll write a book about that." Definitely. That's definitely how it happened.

Maybe I'm right. Maybe nothing has happened in my life (or my dreams) that's worth writing about. Maybe nothing ever will. Who knows? Doug is writing a book. Three actually. Maybe I should just be his editor and leave the creative stuff to somebody else. Because alpaca underwear? That's a flop just waiting to happen.

You say tomato

I’ve always said that if you only paid any attention to those with whom you agree completely, your list of associates would be extremely short. John Lennon cheated on his wife, dropped acid, and claimed that The Beatles were bigger than Jesus. And he was a damned talented musician. Don’t know what I’d call Doug if it weren’t for him. John Travolta – I don’t have it out for the Johns, it’s just a coincidence – is a freaking Scientologist. And Pulp Fiction is a damned good movie. What would I quote when ordering pork if it weren’t for the coffee shop scene? Ayn Rand is an obvious atheist, there are of course some flaws in her philosophy, and she has a really weird and violent outlook on sex. And she’s a damned good writer.

Why is it that we can ignore the political beliefs, religious beliefs, and immoral behaviors of entertainers yet we somehow cast stones at our friends when their idea of “fair” differs from ours? Why is it that we can suck it up and pay $7.50 to go see a movie made by a man who stands for everything that we detest yet we can’t hold our tongues when a friend – and I mean a true friend – supports a political cause that we choose not to rally behind? By true friend, I mean someone who has been your shoulder to cry on. Someone you’ve lifted up during hard times. Someone you’ve laughed with and made grandiose plans with. How can we turn our backs on these people and continue to throw our money and our time at people who stand for everything we loathe in the world?

I wish that we could let that ability to disregard that which we detest could carry over into our personal lives. I wish that we could look at our (fill in the blank) friends with a blind eye, just as we do Hollywood. It’s really a shame that we give more merit to the popularity of the latest movie than we do to actual deep-rooted friendship. I pray that I don’t make a hypocrite out of myself by doing just this. I hope that I’m a bigger person than that.

p.s. Nobody turned their back on me. Nothing happened. I just had an “a-ha” moment while reading The Fountainhead. Carry on!

NB

I just copied and pasted a bunch of old blogs from MySpace dating back to 2006. Happy reading and getting to know the Sheri before Daniel!

Love

I had an emotional day today. Not emotional as in I sat around and cried all day. And not emotional as in I wore skinny jeans and black eyeliner and moped around listening to Fallout Boy. Emotional as in I ran the gauntlet of emotional ups and downs and I am freaking exhausted. Well, maybe they weren’t ups and downs so much as backs and forths, but whatever. Guilt. Relief. Love. Joy. Indulgence. Pride. More pride. Happiness. Sadness. A smidge of anger. Longing. Loneliness. Camaraderie. Annoyance. You name it, I probably felt it today.

It occurred to me that this list of emotions is actually pretty short for one day, unless, of course, you’re Ron Weasley. But because I am neither redheaded nor a fictional character, it seems that this list, while comprehensive, is probably pretty typical for a normal day. For some reason, this list of emotions sent my mind to 1 Corinthians 13:13, specifically this: the greatest of these is love.

While I absolutely agree that love is the greatest of these, I had to wonder which is the strongest of these. Love will make you do some crazy things. Love will make you feel emotions you never even knew you had and will amplify other emotions tenfold. Love will take your breath away. But anger? Wow. Anger will make you do some crazy, fanatical, extreme things. And if you aren’t angry enough to actually do the things that are running through your mind, the fact that they’re running through your mind says a lot on its own. But then I came full-circle. I realized that the things that could make me think and do the crazy, fanatical, extreme things in anger were caused by love. Stick with me for a minute here.

I have a friend who has a friend who has a brother who has a baby. With me? Good. Well, something bad happened to that baby. I won’t go into detail because it’s not my story to share. The baby is going to be ok for those of you who are concerned. But I digress. The baby was hurt. Intentionally. Of course, when I heard this, I thought of my baby and how I would react if my baby were hurt intentionally. Words cannot describe the range of emotions that washed over me just when thinking about my baby being hurt. Extreme and fanatical come close. That’s what made me question the strongest of these. Of course, if it weren’t for the love I feel for my child, the anger would not exist. So here we are again – the greatest, and strongest, of these is love.

Love is patient, love is kind. It does not envy, it does not boast, it is not proud.

I used to think these words were trite. Sadly, they only seem that way because at least 76 weddings per day pronounce these words before pronouncing man and wife. Love is all of these things and then some. It’s maddening and comforting. It’s fulfilling and fun. It’s glue and it’s a foundation. A foundation for families, for friendships, and for crazy, fanatical, extreme things. John was right – all you need is love. Once love takes its place in your life, the rest just falls into place.