I'm always the last one to know about anything that happens on television. 
That's how I know I'm getting old.

Well, I heard about my boyfriend Adam Lambert making out with his bandmate on stage.  And the crotch grabbing and blowjay simulation and stuff.  But I didn't see it.

Until now. 

All hail the power of spare time and the internet. (click there if you haven't seen the performance).

Because I'm 75 days behind all current events, this post is probably worthless.  But anyway...

It's a little sexually charged, sure.  Okay, a lot.  But no more than any of the poptart teenaged sleezequeenprincess stuff that our baby girls have been listening to/emulating for the past decade.  Or more.

I think it's a sad state of affairs when it is practically okay for Britney and Christina and their contemporaries (Miley Cyrus is even pole dancing for the kiddos these days) to do these same things before they are even old enough for me to buy them a beer after the show but when a 27 year old man does these things flags are raised and whistles are blown and appearances are cancelled.

Remember The Kiss?
When Madonna, who was like 104 at the time, kissed Britney and Christina who were both in their early 20s?
Yeah, that was hardly shocking.
From Madonna, who invented it all when she sang Like a Virgin when she was 26 years old.
Or Britney, who was begging to be Hit One More Time before she got her driver's license.  She was a Slave 4 Us by the time she was 20.  And then things went downhill.
And Christina, who at least waited until she was in her early twenties to get Stripped and Dirrty.

If I had a little girl, which holy crap am I glad I don't have a little girl, I would be terrified that in 2009 it seems that sexuality is accepted and encouraged and portrayed in a horrifyingly positive light for young ladies but when a growedassed man does the same thing it is unacceptable and disgusting and appalling.

Poor Jake was born a boy and will never find an socially approved time in his life to be a flat out whore. 
Scales are tipped and things are so unfair in the world. 
If only he had a vagina, he could be grinding it in peoples' faces and getting paid for it in ten years' time.
Such is life.

LesboLolitas = yes
GayAntics = no

Got it.
I think.

Because the universe has a sense of humor, Alix mentioned me in her interview over on Clouds and Silvery Linings when she was roasted over there.  (Alix is awesome, by the way, and totally deserves to be roasted all the time)
So, when people clicked over from C&SLs, they landed on my post about how, despite being a good and loving person who cares about her fellow countrymen and her way of life, I don't say the Pledge of Allegiance.  What a way to make a first impression.  Oh, and one of my favorite things to do in life is call Barack a Brown Fellow and a Muslim because I think it's really funny that there are people who care that he is darkish and honestly believe he is Muslim, and if  you don't know me you probably don't know that I'm a huge Barack supporter, or that we know each other in real life.  Loosely.

Alix, I apologize if any of your readers came here and now think that you admire Crazy Leftists or Vehement Anarchists.  I'm neither.  Just ask me.  And thank you for saying that I'm "whip-smart, expressive, irreverent, kind, raw, brutally honest, naughty, and captivating".  A girl likes to hear/read that about herself every once in awhile.

I wondered if people would drop my feed because of that post.  Any time I share something about myself that pertains to some subject that most people wouldn't ever speak of aloud I lose a few.  Because, you know, I'm so incredibly controversial.  (ha!) 
I lost 6 this time around, at least.  I didn't monitor my Google Feed subscriptions all that closely, but by Saturday morning I was down 6.  I secretly like that.  It makes me feel important to know that one tiny piece of information will make people think about something angry.  But I was up by 11 today, so I feel like I'm in good company this afternoon.  Hello new people.  Welcome.  Please say hi so I can stop by your blog and get to know you a little bit better.  Thank you for being you.

Anyway, did you know you can check how many people are subscribed to your blog in Google Reader?  Click "browse for stuff".  Then "search".  Then type a keyword from your blog (usually your blog title, for me it's 'Jakezilla' because 'fever' is too general) and your subscription number will be displayed next to your blog title.  Neat, right?  Sometimes it's good to know that other people are listening.  Sometimes it's not.  If you subscribe to your own feed, you can just click on the "show details" tab up there in the right hand corner.  That will have your info too.  It shouldn't matter how many people are reading, really, but it's nice to know.

So, where was I?
Oh!

Magaly over at Pagan Culture clicked over from the Roast, read my post, and told me that she doesn't pledge either.  And she is a militarywoman.
I've heard of Magaly before.  I remember her name because I remember thinking that her name would be awesome if coupled with my last name.  I click over to her blog when I see her name (that-should-be-coupled-with-my-last-name-and-this-may-or-mayn't-be-a-marriage-proposal) in the comments because there is always something interesting over there.

I think that it is wonderful that someone so smart and pretty and kind and caring has a blog all about Pagan life.  I think that there aren't a lot of people who actually understand Paganism and how non-threatening and pacifistic and beautiful it truly is and if Magaly's blog can spread a little bit of tolerance and love in the world, then it's all good.
A few of you already know this, but I'm wildly obsessed with ancient Pagan traditions that are carried through in Christianity, so any time I can get my greedy little eyes on anything Pagan I can't say no.  I love researching the origins of the things we still do today.  I love thinking about the way life must have been 3000 years ago, and I love knowing that we are still doing and believing things that were done and believed then, albeit under different prophets' names and under different faiths.  Knowing we haven't come as far as we think we have really ties the ages together for me.  

I think it's really cool that the internet is like that.  That even though it is super huge I can stumble upon Magaly and she can stumble upon me.  I am pretty sure we all hover around each other in smallish groups.  It's a small world.  Even in the computer.  So small in fact, that one of my real life best friends is internet besties with Magaly!  I saw MJ's name in the comment section of Magaly's blog and got all warm inside.

It's a world of laughter
A world of tears
It's a world of hopes
And a world of fears
There's so much that we share
That it's time we're aware
It's a small world after all

There is just one moon
And one golden sun
And a smile means
Friendship to ev'ryone
Though the mountains divide
And the oceans are wide
It's a small world after all

All this to say, thank you Magaly.  Thank you for thinking that my blog is the best blog that you know about.  Sure you've only been dropping by for four days and four days from now you might feel differently, but right here right now you think I'm tops and that is pretty damned amazing and flattering and I'm going to end this post straight away and go outside and walk around with a huge smile on my face.

 ***

I hope that all of you have the Happiest and Heartiest and Healthiest of Thanksgivings.

I am so thankful that you guys are a part of my life and I'm a part of yours.  I'll be thinking of  you when I cram my face full of Whiteman's Bounty this weekend, wishing you were across the table and sharing the day with me.

I swear that the powers that be in blogging come through at exactly the right moments all the time.
I've been tossing a bunch of stuff around in my head lately about what to do with this blog and how to do it and how to stay happy amidst everything that was being tossed and how to/whether to even let people know that I would be changing things up around here and then all of a sudden Scrambled Jill from Jillie Side Up gave me the Honest Scrap award.  I love this award more than anything because I get a chance to lay ten very heartfelt things right out on the table and no one can say boo about it.

If you aren't reading Jillie Side Up already, please start.  Jill is so brave and so smart and she seems to work really hard to find happiness in her life.  There needs to be more of that in the world.  Jill lives in Colorado, again.  She and her husband up and moved to ElDiego earlier this year.  First Jill, then her husband.  Then they didn't like it.  So they moved back. 
You can always turn around, you know. 
That's why it's called home.
That's what home means.

So here it is:

And here we go.  In ten steps, this is my inner blog torment of late:

1.  You may have noticed that my email connected to my blog and your comments has changed.  My Blackberry is tied into my Gmail account, and my Gmail account was tied into my blogger account.  Every time I got a comment or an email regarding a post or an email response to an email I sent or a post I commented on my Blackberry would beep.  Well, ChiGong chime.  It was just too much.  Especially while I was playing with Jake or doing work at work or trying to find a moment's peace. 
My real world life was being interrupted by my online life and that was a little too much "I live in my mother's basement and play things that were inspired by Dungeons and Dragons" me.  So I have all bloggy stuff falling into a yahoo account that is not tied to my Blackberry or my Gmail.  My new email bills me as Lora Neely.  That's my first and middle names, and I think I've gotten more "OMG! why didn't you tell us you finally got married!"'s and divorcey sort of "I know what that's like and I'm sorry" consolations in the past two weeks than regular emails.  Thank you for your well wishes, but things are the same as always at home, just not so much on the email. 
I'm also trying to separate my last name from the blog.  People love to Google people.  I know this because I love to Google people.  With Jake getting older and going to school in the next few years and me and Dave having jobs and all, I figure that it's best to save people we know from reading all this crap.  Our last name isn't very common so once you have us pegged, you know you've got us.

2.  I have to cut down the time that my Current State of Blogging eats.  I've tried a few different ways of doing this. 

3. Not posting every time the spirit moves me was my first attempt.
And it works.  And I usually get things sorted out in my head by the end of the day.  Because the things I talk about here aren't usually the things I talk about in life, things have to get sorted out in my head.  There isn't any feedback about these things, and I end up working around and through these things rather than with them (if that even makes sense, but without other people's input, I have to do it all on my own and only with the tools I keep in my brain) but it works.  Mostly.
But it doesn't make me happy.  So I'm almost back to posting as needed, but I just can't find the time to do this.  It's a horrible cycle.

4. Not responding to the comments people leave on my posts was another.
This happened accidentally, when I posted about something that I just wanted to get out and move away from.  Something that hurt too bad to revisit 40 times then 30 times then 20 then however long people kept up the email string that started with their comment and my reply.
But this doesn't make me happy either.  I love the relationship I have with my readers.  Some of them are more intense than others.  It's a giant two way street where there is a lot of headbutting.  A lot of love.  A lot of contradiction.  A lot of headnodding.  A lot of teaching.  A lot of learning.  A lot of support.  That's why I've kept this blog up for so long.  Because I really appreciate that.
But it takes a lot of time.  Less now that I've transferred to a new email address because I only check it when I want and when I can.  Oh, and if you don't have an email tied to your profile and I don't have your email?  Sometimes I go to your blog and comment on your last post, but sometimes I don't.  It's really hard for me to get to an actual URL from work sometimes due to filters and stuff and it's a rare thing for me to use my home computer.  But whether or not I reply, I do read and absorb and love every comment left- good bad or indifferent.

5.  I tried cutting down on the amount of blogs I read.
This helps immensely.  I cut out the news feeds and the funny pictures and the mindless junk that I subscribed to because I needed news feeds and funny pictures and mindless junk at a certain point in my life.  Now I don't. 
So I cut it down to people who I know in real life and people who read my blog.  This group isn't a perfect overlap, which is okay.  I know plenty of people in real life who have a blog but don't know that I do.  I know plenty of people in real life who have a blog and have absolutely zero interest in wanting to read what I have to say here but I like their blog.  And there are a few people who read my blog but I have absolutely zero interest in wanting to read what they have to say on theirs.  Not because I  hate it, but because I have no use for info on the newest and latest tech gadgets or product giveaways or movie reviews or whatever.  It's a way to save time.  It was hard for me to do at first, because I feel like if people take the time to read my blog, I should return the favor.  But you know what?  I don't.

6.  I stopped reading blogs when I should be doing something else.
Like working.  Or blogging.  Or relaxing.  Or cleaning.  Or hanging out with my number ones.
Most of my blog reading is done in the middle of the night when I can't sleep and I don't want to get up and do something constructive or watch television or turn on the light to read a book or lie there in silence and listen to my head.  So I rev up Reader on my Blackberry and read.  I'm awake two or three hours in the middle of the night four or five nights a week.  That's a solid 8-15 hours of quality time I can spend with your words.
Commenting from a Blackberry takes way long, so I usually don't. 

7.  I've cut down on the number of comments I leave.
This does two things (three if you count making other bloggers feel unloved).  One, it cuts down on the amount of emails that I get as replies to comments I leave.  Two, it saves both me and other people time because I'm not taking time to leave a comment.
If something huge happens to someone, I keep the post unread and go back when I can to comment from a real computer or I shoot a quick email from my phone.  That's easier.  I feel kinda shatty for doing that because everyone who's anyone knows that comments are better than email, but sometimes you need to get a message through and you gotta get it through ASAP.

8.  I'm talking to other bloggers to see what they do and how they do it without feeling overwhelmed.  Like, sitting down and talking.  Whether post every day or every month or you get two comments or 200 on every post, it takes time and effort and brains and heart to keep up a blog.  I want to know how other people do it.  So I ask.  Face to face.  Most recently over margaritas and beers and flourless chocolate cakes.  Sometimes over coffee.  Or spaghetti.  Or lunch.  Or more coffee.  And so on and so on.  And I learn.  And I borrow ideas.  Or I shake my head because there is no way that would ever work for me. 
Blogging is one of the most socially active lonely activities that I've ever done.  It's weird, and after years and years of it I'm still having trouble adjusting.

9.  I talk to people who have all but quit blogging how and when and why they are all but quit blogging and they say that it was just time.  That everything runs its course and when the course is run it's best to step back and move on, no matter how hard it is to do.  I think about that a lot.  And had almost decided that maybe today's post would be my all but last and then I say good bye and I love you to a friend I met through blogging and she says "goodbye and I love you too and you know, you've really changed my whole entire life" and it all clicks that maybe this hasn't run its course yet for me and I should stick around for a little while.
Because sometimes you can change someone's life by suggesting they maybe have a few friends over for spaghetti every now and then. 
And sometimes other people change your life by coming over to your house for spaghetti every now and then. 
And sometimes people you don't know and who don't know you change lives by having their friends over for spaghetti every now and then. 
And it happens all over the area, then all over the country, and then people from overseas send you an email and thank you for suggesting that they phone a few friends and put on a pot of water every now and then.
And it all seems worth it all of a sudden.

10.  I don't talk much about it here, but I started this little huge thing called Wednesday Spaghetti.  It started in my kitchen over a year ago, me and my girls and some babies and a pot of water, a pound of noodles, and a jar of sauce.  It went over so well that I told some other people about it.  And they had their own and it worked so well that they told some other people about it.  And they had their own...
My goal is to become a real live and functioning non-profit.  In Name and EIN and all that we actually are, I just need to find the time to get the ball rolling and the word out. 
Find The Time.  See, there's that little huge thing again.  Time.
If you are interested in holding  your own WedSpags, let me know and I'll get you hooked into the blog.  Everyone is always welcome.

So that's ten.  I feel better getting that stuff out.
Thank you for bearing with me.  That couldn't have been all that interesting.
Long story short?  Posting/writing is my priority.  That's why I started this blog, that's why I keep it up.
The friendships that have grown out of my posts and the blogs I read are priceless, but not as valuable as time spent in the real world.  I will do my best to keep them up, but not every day.  Hell, I don't talk to my own mother every day.
I had such high aspirations for what I wanted Wednesday Spaghetti to be by now, and I'm failing at meeting my own goals.  It's time to start digging in and making things happen.  I truly do feel that it is an amazing and special thing that has changed my life, and I know for a fact that it is changing the lives of others.  I want that to be bigger.

you don't know how lucky you are, boy

I don't know what sort of bee flew into my bonnet. Or which way the wind is blowing that got my panties all up in a bunch.
But boy am I feisty.

I get this way sometimes.

Where I just want to tell you what is really on my mind.

In my guts, more like it.

My mind churns pretty constant.
But sometimes there is a rumble in my tumble for no particular reason but I want everyone else to feel it too.

So what can I write about today?
What can I tell you about that will get half of you to pump your fists and the other half to throw them?
What can make three people drop my feed and four people pick it up again?

Let's think.

There's always... no.  Too personal.
Or... no.  Too cliche.
Or... yeah... I might cry.
Oh!  How's about...  uh uh.  Nope.  It's been done a thousand times, a thousand ways. 
Pretty soon Miley Cyrus is going to be singing about it.

I know!
Thank you Jon Stewart, for telling the news in such an unbiased (what?  if there are people who think Fox News is unbiased, I can think Jon is delivering me a even keeled report of what I believe to be the truth).

Jon Stewart had a little kid on tonight (last night, holler atcher reruns) who refuses to say the pledge because it is chock full of bullshit.

Hooray boy!
I'm so proud of you.  You little gaywad (his words, not mine.  But I'm using them here). 
Go on with yer bad self.
You give me hope that my own kid might grow up to be a loud mouth little fucker, raising hell and taking the world by storm. 
One hokey tradition at a time.

I don't say the pledge either.
I haven't in probably twenty years.
Not once since middle school fo sho fo reals.
Why?
Let's break it down.

I pledge allegiance to the flag of the United States of America.
WTF?  If I'm pledging the allegiance to anything it certainly isn't going to be a symbol.  My allegiances are more valuable to me than a piece of stupid cloth, no matter how red, how white, how blue, how stripey, how spangled.

And to the republic for which it stands:
Give me a green card and about two grand and I'm out, babies.  If Canada wasn't so cold I'd be there next week.  Drive up to my mom's for turkey and just keep on going.  If Mexico wasn't so, well, Mexican, and like- poor and stuff, I'd be wearing a pancho.  And Europe is expensive and it's hard to get a job.  Then there is the whole thing now that I'm a mom, and I don't want to take Jake so far away from his extended family (read: I like having babysitters all over the place).  But I have no allegiance to this country.  It's where I live.  I can move anytime.  It's a free country.  I can do what I want.
I'm not going to move anywhere icky or anything of course.  But there are lots of places out there where I wouldn't sacrifice much and would gain a few really nice things.

One nation, under God
Did you know this part was added in 1954?
And originally "the flag of the USofA" was "my flag" but it was changed in 1923 because Amerikans didn't want all those filthy stupid immigrants to think that they could still pledge allegiance to their homeland flags.  Because they are so dumb they'd have no idea that the pledge meant that they were pledging to America.

To me, saying "under God" excludes people who call their Big Guy something other than God.  Maybe they should have said One nation, under skies.  That makes sense to me.  Then the Buddhists and Muslims and Jehovah's Witnesses and Pagans and Wiccans and Taoists and Atheists and Agnostics and everyone else could say it without lying to themselves. 
Plus, hello!  Separation of Church and State? 
Did you know that isn't in the Constitution, btw? 
But it's still an important part of our nation.
And I'm all for it, now that there's that brownish Islamic fellow in office.  What if he doesn't abide by the separation and he starts putting his Muzlam crap all up in my state?
What about that?
Pretty soon we'll all be like:
"One nation, under Allah."

indivisible
Ha!  We are split like peas in seventeen different directions.
But I secretly like that about us.
It keeps us on our toes, fighting the good fight.

with liberty and justice for all
This might be the biggest line of chewing gum that I've ever read/said in my life.
There's liberty, sure.  I live in the cradle of it.
And justice.  From time to time.
But not for all.
Not even for most.
Not for women or people of color or homosexuals or people of ethnic or religious minorities or children or immigrants or animals or tourists or or or.

And don't you just want to say Amen at the end of all that?  I always do.  Once I did.  In seventh grade.  No one important thought it was funny. 
Like the teacher.
Everyone else chuckled.
Or gasped.
I spent the durations of announcements in the hall. 
Because that was punishment.  Not to be able to listen to Dr. Cuzzola tell us about the pep rally on Friday or that there was going to be masheds instead of tots today.

I pledge allegiance to a lot of things.  My family.  My friends.  My beliefs.  My practices.  My job.  The people who fight every day to keep us safe.  Their family.  Their friends.  Their beliefs.  Their practices.  Their job.
We aren't defined by three colors.  By a pattern that fits into a rectangle.

I'm not so much about the word "republic" but I'm game when it comes to "community".  I like microcosms.  We can't all live off the macro.
We just can't.
Sorry.

A few nations have my heart.
America isn't all that special. 
There are worse places, but there are places where I think I might be happier.
There are places I've been happier.

I like the under skies idea.  I came up with that one day when I was grounded.  I was probably 13 or 14.  Grey skies, clear skies, cloudy skies, heavy skies, bright skies.  All skies.  We are always under one.  Why not make it official?

We have to be divisible. 
Otherwise?  Communists.
Suck that, jerks.

With liberty and justice for more people than liberty and justice is doled out to on a regular basis.  I really want that.  I'm not sure what I'd do for a job if we had it, but I'd gladly take a career change if it meant that everyone was treated as valuable equals.

I stand up for the pledge, btw. 
And if there are soldiers or veterans in the room, I'll put my hand over my heart.
For them. 
Not for America.
I think the hand over the heart is a little bit kinda Hitlery.
But I don't say it.
The pledge, I mean.
I don't always tell people that they look like fascists or nazis or whatever standing at attention with their hand on their boob and the other straight down at their side.

Also?
Guess what I got today?
Beatles Rockband.
I may never leave my house again.
My life is so much more funner now that Michael Jackson is dead and the Beatles are everywhere.
Knowing that love is to share.

Mgmt,

I thought that I wanted this for Christmas, but I found out that it's over an inch long.  This is the same problem I had with the key necklace I wanted for my birthday.  Or was it Mother's Day?  I forget.  It's always I want, I want, I want with me.  Anyways, for Christmas I think that I want Tiffany to stop making everything that goes around ones neck so darned big.  Some of us have freakishly small necks and we don't really want to draw further attention to that fact.
I like these earrings, but I really wanted a tiny little snowflake to wear around my neck from November 1-sometime around Easter.

Ikea has these comforters with different warmth ratings.  I want one in every rating because I'm a very temperamental person and I need them all.  I'd like to start with a Rate 1 and keep piling up the blankets as the weather gets worse.  You know what the bad thing about having a nice warm bed is?  Getting out of it.  I hate mornings when I go from a cold bed to a cold world.  Maybe this blanket idea isn't such a hot one.

I need a new watch. I was telling Dave that maybe he could get me a new watch for Christmas (his gift, btw?  Totally kickass.  I have to leave it at work so I don't give it to him before Christmas day), but I only like men's watches and I've been trying really hard to stop buying men's clothing and accessories for myself, so maybe he could pick me out something nice.  From the women's department.
And you know what he did?
He laughed at me.
He laughed so hard that snots almost came out.  It was like a guffaw that shook his whole body.
Mostly because I was dressed like an 85 year old man.  A well dressed 85 year old man, I might add.
What?  I like khakis and vneck sweaters.  They are comfortable.
I took a look at watches today at Macy's and I only saw one I like.  I know, I know.  It's a man's watch.  But the women's are all so dainty and fragile looking.  I love Skagen watches.  If you've never had one, you should run out and buy one immediately.  They are very slim, and that's important to me.

I want a new telephone number.  I get calls all the time for someone else.  I've had this number for ten years.  Right now I'm trying to convince some guy who has texted me before with angry stuff toward his babymama that I'm not his babymama.
Him: I hve paid my debts in full with life I see nw hw dumm i hve bin  that's all I hve to say I just wanted u to knw this.
Me: who's this?
Him: Lxxghtxn Grxnt
Me: Sorry, wrong number
Him: Play as u want want this is your ex husband ps I will need to start seeing my kids again so jus to let u knw dat u will get a le
Him:tter in the mail to see dishon indi gabby ok goodnight
Me: I really don't knwo you.  You have the wrong number.  I've had this number for ten years.
Me: You've texted me vefore and I've told you that you had the wrong number.
Him: Ok pxtrxcxx jxhn
Me: Check the number dude.  Call it and listen to the voicemail.  I'm not your ex.
Hiim: Oh n this time the kids coming to c me at my place nt yours so pretend u dnt knw me u broke the court oder.
Him: Sorry u right my bad.  I am so sorry.  lol wrong number :-)
Me: No problem, I just didn't want you getting so mad when there was a mistake.  I get calls and texts for someone else all the time. Not sure why.
Him: Again I'm sorry.  I missed a number, sorry :-[
Me: Again, no problem.  Have a good night.  Good luck with all this.  Nothing worse than custody fights.

Trust me I know, my brother and I were tossed around like
like
like
all I can think of right now are those trout that the fishmongers toss to one another and wrap up in newspaper and sell to people.

I want a pair of black Chuck T hightops, size 5s.  My green ones are wearing out.  My brown ones don't go with my grey and black clothes. 

What I really really really want?  I've been saying this for a dozen years now and I've never done it because the weather is always so cold that I run home and put on my pajamas and pour myself a cup of Wawa Eggnog (goose pus) and say "maybe next year" every year but this is the year it's going to happen.  I can feel it. 
I really really really want a Christmas Eve carriage ride around Old City after dark.  Complete with thermos of cocoa and a plaid lap blanket.

Holy crap, Thanksgiving is a week away?
Holy crap, Thanksgiving is a week away!

I knew it was coming, but it really snuck up on me.  It was like this thing that was sometime in the future, but it's been so warm here (I have yet to wear a winter coat) and the birds are still singing and the flowers are still in bloom and lots of trees are still green and no one decorates with turkeys anymore, people just go from Jack o'Lanterns to wreaths out front, that I didn't realize it was next week.  And today is already Thursday.

I am really excited for this Thanksgiving.  More on that later.  But thinking about this Thanksgiving makes me think of my favorite Thanksgiving, which seems like a hundred years ago but only yesterday all at one time.

Read all about it here. 

I promise that this blog isn't going to be just a bunch of backlogging, but my heart is all smiley thinking about that day.

Did you  know that when I was little Thanksgiving was my favorite holiday?
Who was the fattest girl you ever knew?
I was.
That's right.

There was a blog post or article or something floating around a couple years ago, about the lies we tell our kids.  Some of them cute, some of them controversial, some of them spiritual in nature.  Some were to protect them, some were to scare them, some were things that we tell our kids to shut them the hell up.  The last "lie", and I'm not sure of the direct quote, was something like:
I'll always be here for you.

Of course we won't always be there.
Whether it's because we are in the other room tending to the stove/the baby/ourselves/the wash or whether we are at work or whether it's because parents can't live forever, we won't always be there.

I try not to tell this lie, but I want to.  I want to really really badly.  I want to take Jake in my arms and kiss him a thousand times and tell him that I'll always be there, right beside him, no matter what.

But that's not true.  I'm not even right beside him now.  I can get to where he is in twenty minutes.  Ten if I had to.  But I'm not right there beside him now.  Always means always.  Not usually or sometimes or often or whenever I can.
I am very careful using the words 'always' and 'never'.  They hold great power.

I tell Jake that no matter where I am or who I'm with I live every minute of my life for him and thinking of him, and I promise to do that as long as he needs me to and as long as I can.
That's the best I can do.

***

Following up on yesterday's post, it seems that the Santa is Satan thing might not be as prevalent in the whole wide America as it is here.  I thought maybe I was just sheltered from it as a kid.  Turns out that maybe it's a local thing, like cheesesteaks or something.

Philadelphia is funny.  We aren't Southern, but there are a lot of what might be considered Southern Conservatives around these parts.  Not so much in the city, but around the city.
We don't have a Religious Right here in town as much as a Religious Left.  Boy do I love the Religious Left.  People who believe in (insert faith of choice here) and want to use their beliefs to help people despite their race, color, creed, sexuality, religious beliefs, ethnicity, marital preferance/status, and economic status?  People who don't want to change any of those variables?  Oh bliss.  But religion isn't really what this is about.  It's tolerance, respect, and openness.
But those uber-conservatives, who tend to lack tolerance, respect, or openness? I swear they bring them in by the busloads just to annoy me.  I hate being told what to do, how to live.  Especially by some weird yokel who has a very limited world view that adheres to a certain set of silly rules and disdain for humanity and who homeschools their children and feels that a basis to a well rounded curriculum includes dragging the brats downtown to rallies and protests outside of public offices and medical centers and stores who have practices they don't agree with.  (Must add here that I'm quite sure the people who don't want me shopping at Macy's probably shop at Wal*mart.  Wal*mart is really popular with this set.  Wal*mart is one of the most corrupt and evil places in the world.  But everything is so cheap! Of course it is.  At the expense of underprivledged overseas workers.  But they are workers!  The aren't real people!  They are poor, and foreign,  with tiny little eyes, and they don't take baths.  They are like animals.  Right.).  So, Christmastime brings out the Antisantas, just like Obama's visit brought out the Antiabortioners.
My patience is zero for people like that.  As you probably know.
I can respect that people don't want their kids believing in Santa, and I even understand it.  I certainly respect and understand people who don't approve of abortion.  But I don't respect people who can't respect me and my choice.
Why can't we all just get along?  Keep our views and beliefs and practices on our blogs and in our homes?  Wouldn't that be nice?
Okay, I'm done talking about this.  For now.

Note to the people gathering en masse to ruin my day by trying to change me:  I am much more open to listening to an opposing opinion if it is written down nicely or discussed over a cup of coffee than I am for someone to get in my face all crazy like.  And if we can sit down and do this like grown ups, there is more of a chance for  you to get me to sway a bit in my thoughts and actions.  I'm not made of marble.  There is room for change and improvement and shifts of all sorts.

***

Wait now, what is this post about?  Lying.  Right.  To your children.
I do lie to Jake.  I keep truths from Jake.
We are a very science-minded family.  Dave and I tell Jake that there are few things in life that are absolutely true.  The earth moving so the sun looks like it comes up and the earth moving so it looks like the sun goes down each day is pretty reliable.  1+1=2 and A comes before B all the time.  We love him more than anything no matter what.  Those things he can be certain of.  Everything else gets a bit blurry and twisty and faded.
We preface most non-concrete things with:
"well in this house we... but other families do things differently"
"I'm not sure, but..."
"in most cases... but sometimes that changes"
"some people... and others... and I... and daddy/mommy... and when you get bigger you might do something different than all of us and that's okay."

We do not teach him that one set of beliefs (about life and love and death and dislike and faith and hope and beauty and horror and art and science and math and politics and and and) is right and another is wrong.  We teach him that everyone is different and no one is right and no one is better and no one is wrong and no one is worse.
A lot of my friends, a lot of my family, believe that this is a lie.  That there is a right set of beliefs and there is a wrong set and we are doing a very bad bad thing by telling Jacob these things.
But that is the truth in our hearts, that is the truth in our house.

We tell him to be careful because not everything nor everyone is good.  He needs to know that.
But if there are things that I have to sugar coat for now and if there are things that I have to breeze over and things that I have to wait a year or ten to explain then so be it.
And if there are things that I add into the mix to make the world a more magical, beautiful, wonderful place for my baby then so be it.