What's the News?

I recently asked "what's the news?" of a friend and he was so confused. Is this a regional expression? Or maybe it is too archaic and I should stick with "what's up?" instead?

Anyway, the few hangers on of this blog often tell me they like me to find interesting things to read for them. Here are some recycled bits from other people's blogs:

Baby boomers and movies, or how our parents' generation screwed things up (you know how I feel about those hippies)

David Bentley Hart on the death of Christian culture

Food for thought on migrant workers in Arizona

(And about this last article, I agree with the blogger that Christian charity should be shown to these migrant workers and their families. But what the hell does that have to do with the GOP? I cannot stand the association of Christian morality with Republicans any more than I can stomach liberals hijacking choice church teachings for themselves.

For the record, when the US government is sitting around with its you know what up its you know where (I worked for Migrant Education for two years, I know how little the gov't does for these kids) the Catholic Church and many Protestant denominations are busy feeding, clothing, and educating migrant families. Christian charity is in abundance for these families even when sensibility from our politicians is nowhere to be found. )

If you want links to juicy stuff in the news that intersects with matter of morality and faith I suggest frequenting the Anchoress and New Advent.

Down on Dayton

We have only been in Dayton for a matter of weeks so I am not going to jump to any conclusions but the locals seem kind of down on Dayton. Before we moved here all I read online was reviews about what a dump the city is. Most of the people who grew up here tell me how much they hate it; there is a constant apology from the natives I chat up in the grocery store and at meet ups.

I don't see what is so bad about Dayton. I mean, the people drive like lunatics but that is Ohio (sorry Ohioans). And everyone seems a little grumpy but that is the state of our nation right now and I did just move from Kentucky, the friendliest place I've ever lived.

Young people here especially seem dissatisfied with their city. One young man on a review of the place said "Dayton is a great place to live if you just want to go to work, watch TV, shop at chain stores on the weekend." I wonder if he realizes this is reality for most of the people in places like Manhattan and San Fransisco, too. Besides, Dayton has culture hiding in many places. There is a farmers market and an art district downtown, the local Boston Stoker coffee brand has shops across town, lots of immigrant families from Eastern Europe, and historical sites throughout.

My guess is the people who don't think much of Dayton have seen it in better days and find its current state depressing or else they imagine life elsewhere is so much more exciting. We have come with a different perspective and so I think Alan and I are bound to see Dayton with fresh eyes, as a place worthy of exploring and, someday, even loving.

Broken AC 2010

When I was pregnant with Lucy our window unit air conditioner broke. Well, the good one broke. We were left with a crummy little one that could barely keep the square foot in front of it comfortable. Then last summer in Washington we went through a "heatwave" (95 degrees at its peak) with nothing but box fans to keep us cool until it passed.

Early this morning Alan woke me up. "The air won't come on," he said. My first thought was, whatever this is we have to fix it ourselves. We checked the thermostat, went into the basement to look for glaring problems, Alan ventured out to the compressor in the backyard (which was harrowing as we were in the midst of our first Ohio thunderstorm-- scary). Long story short we have to have an electrician come out tomorrow morning to fix our breaker box.

Like everything else in Dayton it will be dirt cheap to fix it. We've been languishing in the heat all day. Our house is certainly air tight! Once the cool of the evening came we opened what windows have screens and let in a little breeze. But all four of us are sweaty and moving slow.

Like our past experiences with high heat this one reminds me to take a breath and think on what is important. What is a little 85 degree weather inside once in a while? And how nice to have something break in our house for once. So what if we will all be sleeping in Lucy's room, the coolest room, tonight. Lucy will get to stay in her own bed while Alan, Iris, and I camp out on the futon mattress on the floor. And in the morning, hopefully, the electrician will get the whole thing up and running again. If not right away, we will manage in the meantime.

The joys of home-owning, Dayton living, and PhD programming are just beginning.

To the pure... to the impure

A good little article on breastfeeding in public.

“To the pure all things are pure, but to the impure nothing is pure” (Ti 1:15)

I was ready to abandon the blog, leave it to the spammers and forget it ever existed. But what the heck-- even if I am only writing to the silent space that is the internet, I might as well keep writing.

We are knee deep in work, packing, babies. Who said one is like none, two is like ten in reference to kids? Maybe they were right. Obviously Iris's needs are basic at this point, but she is another person with demands and stuff which makes things in our house just that much more complicated. Still, so far things have been easier than I thought they would be with two little ones. We all went to the mall today, ate dinner, and survived. One point for the parents.

I am very, very sad to be leaving Wilmore but also very excited to be moving to Dayton. Who'd a thunk, right? Alan just rolled his eyes when I told him this, but there is an H & M-- an actual H & M-- in Dayton! I think I had to spend time in the middle of Kentucky for a place like Dayton to feel like a cosmopolitan mecca (the people I know from NJ and WA are gagging as they read this, I know).

So I soothe myself with thoughts of shopping, mass transportation, and Vietnamese food when the reality of saying goodbye to friends creeps up on me. It feels a bit better knowing no one we befriended was meant to stay here, and neither were we. It is late, I know I'm rambling, but thought I should take a stab at blogging again before I lost my nerve.

Waiting for Baby #2

As with my first pregnancy I am now entering a stage of focusing in. My poor sister, mother, and friends-- I am on a birth kick for sure and have trouble thinking about other things! So I thought it warranted a blog post.

I don't know what preparing for a hospital birth is like. Of course, I have to have it in the back of my head that I could end up being transported at any point before, during, or after labor. But for a home birth you spend a lot of time fussing over things at home. Not only is the nursery/crib/baby's dresser a reason to rearrange things a million times-- you also have a box of birthing supplies to contend with, snacks for you and any others present to sustain everyone through the process, a postpartum care artillery. All my paraphernalia has been moved from one large box to lots of little boxes, from our room to the guest room/office upstairs, it's all been labeled and de-labeled twice, and I'm still not quite happy with how it is set up on the bookshelf upstairs.

There is childcare to set up. The bathrooms need to stay clean. I run through a mental list of comfort things I might want handy during labor like a favorite movie and comfy clothing. I'm sure many of these things are a concern with a planned hospital birth, too, but there is something about living in the space you plan to give birth in that makes you feel like you are crafting something. Maybe other home birth moms have had a different sense in the weeks leading up (please share your thoughts below!).

***
Yesterday we enjoyed some time as a family of 3.5. We drove up to Chrisman Mill winery to get a celebration bottle of my favorite local wine then headed to the UK arboretum. How nice to see the flowers and smell all the plants coming to life! Lucy collected sticks and dandelions. We ate a little lunch, went to the bookstore. I don't know how much harder outings like that become when another kid is added to the count.

I've had a lag in work so the three of us have been hanging out this week, catching up on reading and phone calls, still dealing with the pile of paper work from the house buying business. Today Lucy and I looked through her newborn pictures. "I was small... and TINY!" she told me. Lucy also said the baby looks like her; we'll see soon.

***
So I spend each day in a space somewhere between my regular mental state (which isn't so grounded to begin with!) and that place your head goes when you give birth. I listen to lots of music I liked as a little kid-- Red Hot Chili Peppers, Foo Fighters, Mariah Carey, Michael Jackson and all that-- and soak up the dreamy mood that comes with preparing for the birth of a new life.

The Game, Abortion, Compassion

In the summer of 2005 I often listened to the song "Hate It or Love It" by The Game. Surely it was the refrain that caught my attention, but it didn't take long for the lyrics to sink in. The Game sings about parts of his life, his days dealing drugs and eventual success. Then at the end he thinks about what might still be going on in his old neighborhood and sings:

"I wanna know what's going on like I hear Marvin
No school books
They use their wood to build coffins
Whenever I'm in a booth
And I get exhausted
I think what if Marie Baker got that abortion
I love you Ma"

I have no idea what its like to be a black guy growing up in Compton-- I am a white girl who grew up in the burbs on the other coast. So I'm left only to wonder.

Now The Game, born Jayceon Taylor, implies that he draws strength from the fact that his mother did not abort him when she was likely to or thought about doing so. That must shape who you are as a person, knowing that you were wanted enough to be born even though statistics and circumstances were slanted against you.

But the very fact that you are a person likely to be aborted, what does that say about your worth in the eyes of others?

It is abortion under the guise of compassion that hangs me up more than anything. The logic seems to go like this:

You are a in a bad situation (no spouse, or no job or in the middle of school, or perhaps you already have a number of kids)

Another child will exacerbate the situation for you and your dependents, or you will be able to provide a less than ideal life for the unborn child

So you should have an abortion to show compassion on yourself, your family, your unborn child

Okay, how do we know (or how can we even begin to guess) that life for that child might be bad? We look at children already born in similar situations.

So while Mr. Taylor may be able to thank his mom (and rightfully so) that she chose to bear him into the world he is still the once poor, black, urban child people often look to as an example of why other poor city children should not be brought into the world. The only thing more invalidating than not being allowed to be born is someone pointing to you and saying "we use you to justify why other children like you should not be brought into the world." Same goes for people with disabilities.

As clear as day, when you tell the poor mother or the young mother or the mother carrying a special needs child "you should probably have an abortion" you are telling all those kids born into similar circumstances "you probably should not have been born." That, my friends, is not compassion in any way, shape, or form.