What's wrong with this picture?

So before 9 am this morning, two news stories had already crossed my radar that just make me shake my head. They are both swimming in the controversy of teen sex, particularly teen girls having sex. Anyone who knows me even a little knows I just can't pass up the opportunity to rant about my views on sex education in this country.

The first story was on the new HPV vaccine and how this doctor/researcher says it could possible increase the rates of cervical cancer. Really? You're saying after we vaccinate these girls they are going to think they are safe and therefore will go have wild amounts of unprotected sex (or just once), consequently contracting something anyway and winding up with full-blown cervical cancer because they never get a pap because they thought they were safe? That's what you're saying? Wow, I never could have put that one together on my own. Also, are you seriously going to tell me I HAVE to vaccinate my - wait for it - TEN to ELEVEN year old daughter for HPV???!!! Seriously, she may or may not have even reached the point of her very first cycle and we're going to vaccinate her in the event that she has sex and gets the big bad HPV. Which, btw, in case you don't know. HPV stands for Human Papillomavirus, or commonly known as genital warts. It is the primary cause for cervical cancer. Sounds scary right? The catch is that there are literally dozens of KNOWN strands of the virus and only a select few cause cervical cancer. Now, does this mean that HPV isn't a big bad and that we should ignore? No, certainly not. It is almost an epidemic in our country, but I hardly think we need to start vaccinating young girls going into puberty for something they may or may not come into contact with. And how do we know that this brand spanking new, largely untested vaccine won't have greatly devastating effects on the future fertility of these girls? I mean, sure we don't want babies at 14 and 15, but what about 24 and 25? Or 30? We have to think ahead for these girls! My last issue with this ties in with the second article, so I'll just go ahead and tell you about that.

The second article was about a new book by Toni Weschler, the author of Taking Charge of Your Fertility. Which, by the way every woman should read this book and have this knowledge. Anyway, the new book is called Cycle Savvy: The Smart Teen's Guide to the Mysteries of Her Body and is based from TCOYF. Now, from what I understand this isn't a guide for getting pregnant or avoiding pregnancy like the first book was. It is more of a guidebook for young girls to understand their cycle and what it means. To understand about ovulation and a general overview of fertility. And people are PISSED about this. Why? Why do we have such a problem with letting young girls understand their bodies? Why don't we want them to have this knowledge? Is it because they would possess more knowledge about their bodies than most adults have? Is it because they might be proud of the amazing events that go on inside their bodies every month instead of simply being pissy at what they have to endure? Now, there are a growing number of WOMEN who know more about their cycles than most probably think they should, of whom I am proud to be included in. And it amazes me the number of women who would be clueless if I asked them about their ovulation, or luteal phase. A woman's cycle is more than just those days of bleeding, it lasts for weeks, 28 days on average. Why aren't we teaching young girls this? Hell, why are we teaching young boys this too? Is there really any good reason you can give me for studying photosynthesis in every science class from fifth grade on but NEVER ONCE covering the details of such an important and amazing body process that is happening at that very moment to the students being taught?

Nah, why would we do something that makes so much sense. We would rather give them a shot and tell them not to have sex. Meanwhile, we play the monkeys (see no evil, hear no evil, speak no evil) while kids draw their own conclusions and we can all see what is happening with that. Obviously, something's not working. Wonder what might happen if we empower them with some knowledge. Hmmm, what a revolutionary idea. Knowledge.

A year ago today...

I gave birth. My baby girl turned one today and I cannot believe it has been that long. She is such an amazing person and I am beyond blessed to have her in my life. She is beautiful and fiesty and spunky and strong. She has changed me, as each of my kids have. I don't want to shortchange her with few words, but honestly, Kylie has a spirit in her so large that there truly aren't words.

Generation WTF???

So I spent Saturday night with a bunch of kids. I mean a BUNCH of them. All teenagers. All the time.

This was a CD release party for a local teen Christian metal band. The stuff these kids play is pretty hardcore, talented, but still hardcore. They're great kids. Seriously. Their generation though, let me just say WOW.

First let me say, we need to revisit hygeine. Small room, 150+ kids, I cannot even begin to describe to you the smell. And a little shampoo never hurt either. Now let me tell you a little about their idea of "dancing". What these kids were doing can only be described as a heavy metal line dance. I am not exaggerating by saying it looked like the Running Man and Roger Rabbit on crystal meth. I have never seen so many kids at one time looking like they belonged on the short bus. For the first time in my entire life I actually wanted to headbang just because I could and it seemed as if it would restore some type of sanity to the situation. Or maybe bang my head against the wall. Either way. I could do the Macarena, the Tootsie Roll, the Roger Rabbit, the Cabbage Patch, the Butterfly, and even line dance with the best of them. But this, this escaped me.

Watching this crowd, I felt like I was observing another culture. I guess in a way I was. But honestly I felt like I should have had a notebook to document my findings. The strangeness was too vast to list. Let me end by saying, gender roles have escaped this generation. Many of the boys looked very feminine, and were well past puberty. A few had their jeans rolled up capri style, and wore belts that looked like women's belts.

You know I grew up in Generation "X". We were supposed to be the weird ones. The ones no one got. I'm guessing as we run our of alphabet things just turn into chaos. I've decided my kids aren't allowed to be teenagers. And if I have no control over that, you can bet they aren't allowed to have friends! I sure won't be able to stand any that aren't mine!!!

A little about the South...

So lately I have head so much negativity about the South. Specifically, the "deep South" where I happen to live. I personally think there are a grand total of three states that can be considered truly the deep south, Mississippi, Alabama, and Georgia. And let's face it, Georgia is kinda borderline. Accents notwithstanding.

Anyway, hearing these types of things personally grates on my nerves. Every place has its negative qualities, I'll admit it. And, quite possibly the deep South might seem to have more negative than positive, especially if you aren't from here or you have lived elsewhere for a long period of time. Even so, I'd like to point out some of the positives of living here.

First, there's the constant comic relief. Seriously. Where else can you find a drive thru beer barn?

I promise a day doesn't go by here that being out and about doing general stuff won't provide you with something that will make you laugh your ass off. Just yesterday I went to Wal-Mart and in the parking lot there was a car that had "Redneck Woman" written across the windshield and "I <3 you pooky" on the driver's side window. Funny shit at every turn.

Moving on, it is absolutely beautiful here. I am not kidding. I have never been in any other state that was quite as pretty. Our skies are the brightest shade of blue I have ever seen and our cities look as if they have been cut out of the trees. And at night, you can see stars for miles.

Another positive, which happens to be a double-edged sword, is that the South is wholesome in a general way. While it is a little annoying that there are churches on every corner (sometimes three or four on every corner) and the mayor of Jackson would rather rid the city of strippers and good sex than crime, the overall goodness here is nice. I don't have to worry for the most part about my kids seeing or hearing things I don't want them to. I like that. I like that my life was fairly sheltered, which wasn't hard to do. I like that people are still easily shocked here.

One thing that most people find most frustrating about Mississippi specifically, and Alabama because they are very much alike, is the pace at which everything moves. Slow. Life, in general, moves slower here. But, if you can step back and take a deep breath, it is nice to enjoy the slow pace every once in a while.

And do not get me started about how the South is portrayed on TV and in the movies! Oh.My.God. We DO have running water AND electricity! Go figure! Guess what? I even have broadband internet! We don't all sound like Gomer Pyle and we do all wear shoes, well most of us anyway. It is very much illegal to marry your immediate family and even if it weren't, it's still very gross. We aren't all racist, although bigotry does exist here - but it's no more here than anywhere else! We are educated. We have local shopping - large, national chains even!

Lastly, the South has the prettiest girls, hands down. Seriously, peruse my friends list and I can promise most (with a few major exceptions) of the pretty girls are from the South! I don't know why, maybe it's the cornbread.

I suppose that's pretty much it. I love the South very much. I loved growing up here and although I do want to live elsewhere it isn't because I don't like it here. I grew up swimming in rivers, playing in mud, riding three- and later four-wheelers. I can tell what type of snake has crossed a dirt road by the trail it leaves, just like I can identify whether or not one is poisonous on sight. I can smell the rain before it comes, I know the secret behind a whooey stick, my sweet tea is pretty much simple syrup, and I know what the Confederate Flag REALLY stands for.

All because I'm from the South. Yeah, I'm pretty lucky like that.

So then I gave birth

I just got back from a weekend long training workshop. It was a labor assistant training. A lot like the one I did four and a half years ago to do what I do now. Serve birthing women. Since I'm a birth junkie one certification just isn't enough for me, so that was what brought me to the workshop. At it's closing, my best friend and partner took me aside and told me something humbling and powerful. I'd like to share it with you.

She was the workshop sponsor and organizer. I helped her get things together, but really she did all the hard stuff. So she says to me, "Wow, we really did a good thing." Yeah, really we did. Women need other women in birth. They need to know they aren't broken. They need to know their bodies were made to do this and they still work. But, what she said after that was the real wow for me.

She went on to tell me that, in essence, that entire workshop was a baby for me. It was a product of my hard work and labor, it was my birth.

See, she started as my client two years ago. Sometime during her pregnancy she told me she wanted to do what I did and wanted to learn from me. She went on to have a beautiful unassisted home birth that I was lucky enough to witness. And now she's working on becoming quite the kick ass doula. That, she says, is because of me.

Two other women in this class were former clients of mine. And every single woman there is on fire to change the state of birth. It is a revolution, one woman at a time.

And so, I gave birth. I gave birth six years ago quite literally to a eight pound ten ounce baby girl who changed my life. And I gave birth this weekend. I saw some of the work, tears, frustration, pride, smiles, heartbreak and heartswells turn into something beautiful. I am truly honored to have been a part.

Someone I'd like to share with you

Thomas Joel Waits. That was his name. On January 14, 1997, he ended his life. He was fifteen.

I don't know how to tell you what this boy meant to me. He wasn't my boyfriend or anything like that. Thomas was my best friend. I called him my little cousin, but really he was the little cousin of my childhood best friend. He and I formed a relationship, a bond, quickly and like nothing I had ever known before - or since to be honest. We fit in with each other when no one else understood. Which probably was a little odd since I was three years older than him. But we got each other.

Thomas, well we all called him TJ. For as long as I knew him it was TJ. Until the very short months before his death. He asked that we call him Thomas. TJ was a name his dad had given him. And even now, even after his death, it feels wrong to call him TJ. Even though it is far more familiar than Thomas to me. But somehow TJ seems disrespectful. So I still say Thomas. Anyway, Thomas was probably the most beautiful person I have ever known in so many ways. There was a light in him that people gravitated toward. And when he took his life I hated him. I hated him for taking that light away from all of us who needed it so badly. But I have come to realize that Thomas felt his death was needed more.

Thomas was trapped and on the morning he decided to kill himself he went to school, life as usual. Except he was sick all day. Not because of what he knew was coming, but because he did not take his insulin. Thomas was diabetic, and he knew what not taking his meds would do to him, which was exactly what he needed in order to be able to complete his day. He spent all day at school in the nurse's office. Before he went home that day he told his friend down the street to come over. But not until Thomas called. About an hour or so after he got home, Thomas called his friend and told him to come over. Let yourself in, he said. He hung up the phone, went to his back yard, and shot himself.

Strangely, at the funeral everyone looked at me with pity. They would come up to me and say, "He loved you, you know." Yes, I know. They would tell me, "He carried only two pictures with him and you were one of them." Yes, I know.

Losing such a beautiful soul was like losing part of myself. And every year, I find ways to keep him alive. If I don't do this, I am afraid that part of myself will die with him. I hope you don't mind me sharing him with you today. He's been gone for ten years now. I hope the man he would have been is proud of the woman I am. I still grieve for him. In a more peaceful way, but grief just the same.

I hope you are at peace, my beautiful boy. I miss you with every fiber of my being.

Whiskey Tango Foxtrot Oscar

I thought I'd take the time tonight to share some things with you that piss me off. I'm doing this because, well, instead of going off on someone. Enjoy!

Doctors - So really it's no secret that I'm not a fan of doctors. You may not know that but that's just because I haven't told you, not because it's a secret. But really I'm not anti-doctor as much as I am anti-stupidity. I have found that MOST doctors will tell you what they think you want to hear, or what they want you to hear rather than the truth. They go to school for many years and pay hundreds of thousands of dollars to become liars, stupid liars at that.

Spam - I really really hate spam. Of the mail variety not the canned meat. That kind of spam rocks my socks off. What? Various animal parts minced together in a can doesn't do it for you? Oh, well.

Judgement of any form - I really cannot stand for people to think they are better than other people. Don't point fingers at other people when you are just like they are, only worse. Because at least they don't lie about who they are. Even worse, don't do this under the guise of righteousness.

Sharing milk - on cereal, in a glass, ice cream, whatever. Everybody in my family knows if they want milk they can just take a drink of mine and the rest of the glass is theirs. Disgusting.

Having to look things up, because I really do think I should know everything.

The word "booze".

Twisty ties.

Bratty kids.

People who call my kids bratty.

Mispronunciation. Yes this from the one who said vine-yard.

Sheep. Why? Because I'm not a sheep.