Violet sensed the importance of the day and dressed appropriately. I think her wardrobe makes the best statement about our hopes for the future.
Vigilant. Confident.
Fabulously dressed.
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6 days ago
Showing posts with label barack obama. Show all posts
Showing posts with label barack obama. Show all posts
Tuesday, January 20, 2009
Lynda Carter Would Be Proud
Violet sensed the importance of the day and dressed appropriately. I think her wardrobe makes the best statement about our hopes for the future.
Vigilant. Confident.
Fabulously dressed.
Wednesday, November 5, 2008
Sunday, November 2, 2008
17 Kinds of Awesome!
While enjoying a child-free evening last night, Aaron and I found ourselves at Meijer, because what else should we do? Go home and do our marital duty without fear of being heard by a light sleeping child? Please! It was like foreplay just to walk around holding an adult hand for once! Anyway, as we leisurely made our way to the checkout, Aaron commented that he wished we had something more to purchase besides Astroglide, because even though we intended to use the U-Scan Express, it felt wrong not to obscure our sex aid with random impulse merchandise. That's when I saw this little treasure of useless, fabulous-ness!
I don't know what political affiliation Tom Tierney has, but I suspect he is a Democrat, because McCain's undressed doll had a very specifically different feature from Barack's. While Barack looks casually barefoot in a pair of swim trunks, McCain is dressed old-man style in white boxers and shin-high black socks. Also, poor Johnny has a noticeably crooked head. Clearly, the liberal media is at work here, playing up the fact that McCain is a cranky, old, fart!
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Thursday, August 21, 2008
Dear Barack Obama, Let's Have a Sleepover!
When I was about ten years old, I had a friend who lived down the street from me. Her name was Uganda and she had an incalculable number of siblings. I loved hanging out with her big family and yet I always had this weird sense of NOT belonging. This "sense" was really just my mother Deb and her quaint way of reminding me that I was white and Uganda was black. Anytime I was drawn to a person of color, Deb would make it perfectly clear that even though we were not racists, we should stick to our own kind (that's white trash, don't ya know). When Uganda's little brother kissed me on a dare, I was immediately sick with worry that my mother might have seen me and then I felt guilty for feeling sick about the kiss. It was an awful way to grow up and I count myself extremely lucky that I knew better, despite all the efforts of the "adults" around me. I tried for a long time to incorporate Uganda into my social life, but I was thwarted by Deb at every turn. I knew that I was fighting a losing battle when she gave me this explanation for refusing a sleepover with Uganda:
"She'll ruin our pillows."
Had I been more of a smart ass (like I am now), I might have suggested that Uganda could bring her own bed linens, but I was too disillusioned to reply. I didn't make friends easily as a child (I still don't) and I was hurt by mother's lack of awareness and sensitivity, not just for sweet little Uganda, but for her own socially inept child. It was just one more demerit on Deb's ever growing list of parental infractions.
I still struggle with the confusing racial messages of my childhood. I think most people do. It is the very thing that prevents us from all coming together. Some folks are aware of the quiet bias that exists in their family, but many don't realize that they have been conditioned to behave like they do. Knowing is half the battle. Admitting to the subtle racism gets it out there where it can eventually dissipate on the breeze.
Now, my politically savvy little Violet is deeply enamored of Barack Obama. We've been watching a lot of MSNBC (because of the Olympics) and every time she sees him, she shouts, "That Beropp Obaba!" Everyday that I encourage her affections gets us another day closer to the world that Dr. King dreamed about. I really do think it is that simple. I am not going to point out to her that the good senator happens to be black. It is irrelevant. This is how I will do my part to change the world. I swell with pride every time Violet says his name (I also giggle a little because it's so stinkin' cute). Just like my husband valiantly hides his EXTREME fear of spiders for Violet's benefit, I will continue to ignore Mom's voice in the back of my head. Oh yes, there will be multicultural sleepovers at the Heathen Family house! I guarantee it.
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Tuesday, March 4, 2008
Eeny Meany Miney Mo
Today is primary day in Ohio and seeing as I am torn between making women's history and making African -American history, I needed a little help making my decision. I enlisted the most unbiased, genuine person I know to make the choice for me. I sat Violet down in front of the computer and posted a picture of each candidate. I asked her to pick one. She immediately pointed to Obama and exclaimed, "That one!" In case you distrust the conviction of a toddler, my husband repeated the experiment later, with different photos and her mind had not changed. "That!", she said and pointed to the senator from Illinois. When a teenage Violet begins to study the historic presidency of Barack Obama, I will tell her that she knew just by looking and maybe she'll get interested in what it takes to make America run.
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