THE ACCIDENTAL ROLE MODEL

The Cabbage made this "bug" at Science City on Saturday and then left it in my purse. Mine now.

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Right now, the Cabbage is into science. I say 'right now' because she's six and next year she'll probably be into something different, like law or cosmetology. But for right now, science is her thing. She likes bugs. We passed the time waiting for Michael at Harbor Freight, looking at pictures of moths and butterflies on my phone one day. We have a family membership for the Union Station because it gets us into Science City for free whenever we feel like going. This turned out to be a great way for Michael and the Cabbage to spend the day during the summer when it was too hot to do anything outside. I think there was one day they spent the whole time watching movies at the planetarium and eating free popcorn. 

For the past two or three weeks, the Cabbage has been asking to go to Science City. "When are we going to Science City? I want to go to Science City." It's a loop she's been playing over and over. Our weekend schedule has been super busy with other things. We've done fun stuff like visit Randy and Katrina in Branson and a zoo day, but none of this has been Science City. The last time she said something about it I told her we would go the next weekend she was at our house. I cleared the schedule for it and she started a count down of days before we would be at Science City. No one realized this until Michael went to pick her up on Friday, but her class went on field trip to Science City that day. The day before we were supposed to go. Didn't matter. The Cabbage said she wanted to go to Science City again on Saturday even though she had just been there the day before. 

So, Saturday, we went to lunch and then to Science City. I like Science City. It's big and open, with lots of running around space. Many of the exhibits are hands on. It's one of the few places I feel comfortable enough to take the Cabbage where I feel like I can let her roam free and explore on her own. We wandered around, making electricity by riding bikes and changing tide flows with magnets. They have those spinny top looking chairs that don't tip over. The Cabbage and I spent a good ten minutes just sitting in those chairs and rolling around. Then I got lost in Force and Motion and when I came out, I found Michael and the Cabbage talking to a woman in the Spark!Lab. Michael was helping the Cabbage write on a piece of paper. I heard the woman ask the Cabbage "Who is your favorite scientist?" Then I heard the Cabbage reply "Cindy!"

I'm sure the woman in the Spark!Lab was expecting to hear something like Einstein or Curie. She definitely was not expecting a "Cindy!" I mean, I'm not really a famous scientist (I just play one on TV) and of course I was totally flattered. The Cabbage has asked me about my job many times and has said that she too wants to be a scientist one day. So I was not all that surprised or humbled to hear that I am her favorite scientist. I'm the only scientist she knows. Suddenly the responsibility of being the only scientist she knows becomes a boa constrictor tightening around my ribcage. I have instant doubts. I don't know why, but I don't see myself as really a scientist. I hardly ever wear a lab coat and I have a hard time explaining to people what I do exactly. Mumble mumble microscopes seems to be my most frequent answer to what it is that I do. 

Though it is really sweet, especially since the Cabbage and I had a rough summer where we didn't really get along all that well. She went through a "I want my mom and dad to live in the same house" phase, even though she was too young to even remember the time they all did live in the same house. Any way, she's over that for now and into bugs. I'm over it too and trying to think of ways to be better at being that scientist role model. It's not as easy as being an accidental tourist. 

THE UNFAIRNESS OF IT ALL

Lost art

"Lost art"

I wanted to sit down and tell you about our weekend. I wanted talk about moving a cubic yard of dirt from the back end of Michael's truck to the new garden boxes that I put together. I hauled dirt while Michael put the lawnmower back together and worked on getting metal cloth on the chicken coop. I wanted to tell you about how we put the chickens in a small pen outside so they could feel grass under their feet and sun on their beaks. I wanted to tell about the funny moment when Foghorn flew up to the top of the pen and Michael said "NO! Foghorn, NO!" like she was a dog. Then I wanted to complain about tree pollen and how it's pretty much done me in and I am now in the market for a new allergy med. It just doesn't seem fair that someone who wants to be outside can't be outside.

Then I realized it's been one year since 300 girls where abducted from their school in Nigeria. One year and those girls are still missing. Those girls, if they are still alive, have all had a birthday. Each one is a year older. Each one has a mother and father who have spent the last year wondering where their little girl is, if she's at least being kept warm and fed. At the very least. Because we know in reality, that girl has been forced into a religion other than her own, raped and brutalized, forced to marry and enslaved. It's 2015 and we still live in a world where slavery exists and women have less value than livestock. My sinus headache from allergies doesn't even make a mark compared to the scars on these girls. I am at once shamed by my minor complaints and how shallow they sound when voiced out loud. It makes me feel gross and disappointed with myself because I remember a year ago. I remember jumping up and on the hashtag bandwagon to Bring Back Our Girls. I remember at the time wanting to stay vigilant about this. I did not want these girls to be forgotten.  

Time passes. In the year since those girls were taken, I have traveled the Dakotas, lost my Dad, ridden over a thousand miles on the scooter,  gone on a number of adventures, witnessed a good friend's wedding, bought chickens and started a new garden. One year. All of that in just one year all while forgetting my promise to keep this story alive. It was weeks after the girls were taken before the news here even started to cover any of it and I was so angry that it was not front page news from day one. Now, even I have allowed this story to become a footnote. It is easy to fall into the trap of feeling helpless and insignificant. I am sure those feelings of helplessness and insignificance pales in comparison to how helpless and insignificant the parents of those girls are feeling a year later with still no word of where their child is. 

I forgot that while my year was spinning forward in a mixture of love, sadness, laughter and joy, the year for the missing Nigerian school girls just stopped. I broke my promise to them with my complacency. I broke my promise to them by forgetting that even though I can't do much, I can keep the conversation about how these young girls matter alive. Because at the end of the day, all lives matter regardless of race or gender. All lives matter.

Bring Back Our Girls! 

BOO-HUMBUG

And carved

elephant_soap's photo on Instagram

We have always been a dress up kind of family. My mom has spent hours meticulously constructing costumes. She makes the best witch noses ever and don't even get me started on her brilliant rendering of Lucy Little. I was Lucy Little. Button and all. Our costumes were creatively handmade. It's probably spoiled me. I still rummage through the racks at thrift stores for costume ideas, but I will also admit to browsing through the costumes online. Every year I "window" shop online looking at women's Halloween costumes and my heart grows a little heavy.Or maybe it's my butt that actually grows heavy. 

While scrolling through costumes recently, I noticed the usual Sexy Nurse, Sexy French Maid, and even (finally) the Sexy Doctor (because you know, women can be doctors now too). Then I discovered there's a whole sexy animal list of costumes. And then there's the costumes that really have no rhyme or reason to them except to wear these crazy muppet fur boots with some fishnet stockings. Hell! Even Amelia Earhart has a new sexy look. Needless to say that it all not only discourages me, but I find myself conflicted. I want to be sexy. I want to wear a frilly short can-can skirt or skin tight ninja costume. I look through those costumes and think "I want to look sexy just like that". Then the reality sets in and I know that no matter what shape my body is in, I will not look anything like that sexy model in her sexy kitten costume. I lack the confidence. Put me in any one of those costumes and I will spend my evening tugging the skirt down while pulling the bodice up before finally giving up and borrowing someone's jacket. Not to mention that it's cold in October and I'd freeze. 

This is not to say that I am not a sexy woman. Michael tells me I'm a sexy woman all the time. I have my moments. It's just that these costumes are not for me. So I start to wonder who these costumes are really for. I posted a link to a sexy skunk costume on facebook saying "What woman ever says 'Hey! I want to be a sexy skunk for Halloween!'?" and there was a comment left on that post that kind of stuck out. It was something about "one letter difference between 'skunk' and 'skank'". OK...now I find the idea of a sexy skunk to be ridiculous. I don't understand why all animals have to be sexy for Halloween. I think it's also ludicrous that Amelia Earhart has been turned into a sexified version of herself or that we can all be sexy My Little Ponies by wearing a maned hoodie with a mini skirt and platform shoes. But what about the woman who actually buys and wears this kind of costume? If she chooses to be any of those sexy whatever costumes, does that make her a skank or a slut or a whore?

I want to believe that a woman is wearing that sexy costume because she feels confident and good about herself. She has no ulterior motive in wearing it other than to say "Hey! I look good and I know it". In other words, she's wearing that costume for her and more power to her. Except I also know that it's human nature to seek out praise and validation and that even if she knows she looks good, she wants others to tell her she looks good. Most likely, women who buy these sexy costumes are buying into the idea that this is what her boyfriend/husband/potential sex partner wants to see. Let's face it. These costumes exist because men find scantily clad women attractive and Halloween is all about fantasy. If you scroll through the costumes available for men, you'll scroll through images of men fully covered in costumes ranging from Batman to cowboy. Eventually you'll pass by a sexy male cop, but for the most part the men costumes are just costumes, as opposed to sexy costumes. 

Halloween is the new excuse for objectifying women through the over-sexualiztion of costumes. It's not fair to label girls "skanks" and "hoes" when our society teaches them that this is what is desirable or this is how they are supposed to dress. Because that's the same thing as saying that a girl is asking for rape when she wears a short skirt. What we should be demanding is that these costume companies stop putting ears and tails on underwear and trying to sell it as a "costume". We should be redefining the vision of "sexy" with realistic librarian, nurse, firefighter, Amelia Earhart (dangit!) costumes. Come on. You can't tell me that guys do not find female firefighters in full gear attractive. Jim James's vision of a sexy librarian is not the one wearing the short can-can skirt with glasses. Because real men, the kind worth having around, are the ones who know that smart and strong are sexy.

And that's what we need to be teaching our girls AND boys.