Not So Toy Guns

Over the past year guns have become a bigger topic of interest in America than ever. Within our country we have had almost as many mass shootings as we have days of the year, a little over 350 in all. That is incredible in so many ways. Incredibly tragic, incredibly terrifying, incredibly bleak for what is to come.

I was raised by hippie parents who knew the horrors and violence of the world. They guarded us from many evils; my dad was especially concerned and would not condone horror movies until we were old enough to decide for ourselves, he told us “I don’t want those negative thoughts in your head that otherwise wouldn’t have to be there.” I agree with him now, though at the time I thought it was an utter outraged and ridiculous. My mom has a phobia of guns, she too being raised by very peaceful, nonviolent people. When we were little she made sure to keep the idea of guns out of our heads and never bought us any toy guns.

Once I grew up and left home I began being introduced to this whole gun culture. My husband was raised on the opposite end of the spectrum, he got his first gun when he was 6 years old, and learned how to use it to hunt with his father and brothers. By the time he was a teenager they had a full collection and hunting was a tradition and in their culture. Living in New Hampshire for most of my life I was aware of these ideas, though I was raised mostly vegetarian so never actually partook in it myself. The first gun he bought of his own since living on his own was purchased not too long ago. I was very hesitant at first that innate fear of guns conditioned into my being since birth. After a while I gave in and said okay, and he picked a beautiful 6 round revolver, that actually came from a major company in a town beside my hometown.

Just recently I was told that it is vital that I learn how to use the guns we have in our home and that scared the living daylights out of me. I understand the necessity, especially after the recent tragedies just a state away, I just wish the truth wasn’t so real. The terrifying thing is, we now live in a world where those who are unarmed are the minority and are not safe. Understanding that I have begun the process of learning how to defend myself, though it will not be easy, which I believe just shows that I have the humanity that many have obviously lost.

Let us try to remember our compassion in these violent times.

Miss Lucy Lu, You are My Sunshine and Every Single Cloud in My Sky

Little Miss Lucy came into the world December 17^th, 2012 in North Carolina at the Naval Hospital at Cherry Point. She was the daughter of love and changed plans. Her parents are Marines, both looking to devote their lives to serving their country, courthouse wedding and then baby. While pregnant Lucy’s mom Ann found out that Lucy was missing a piece to the beautiful complex puzzle that is her, and with that news and the uncertainty that comes with it she changed her plans and dedication from “lifer” to mommy. Once Lucy made her entrance they were relieved to find she had no physical disabilities, a perfect little baby, which grew into a perfect little girl. Eventually plans were able to shift once again, the little girls independence casting need from Ann, allowing her to go back to work that she loved.

That’s when I came into the picture. Little Lucy you are my sunshine and every single cloud in my sky. You gave me a big hug and cuddled right into my chest the first time I met you, gazing with your great big eyes up onto my face, total trust and tenderness in every inch of your little being. You are an ultimate companion; your little laugh making me smile, your gentleness and curiosity helps me push on even when I am on my last leg. You will grow into someone great Lucy, you will grow big and strong and meet great people and do great things. You have parents that love you more than life and a world that’s on your side.

I will help you honey, I am here to kiss your booboos and sing you to sleep. You are you and that is why we love you.

The Great and the Greed

I am a humanitarian; I am sympathetic when called for and feel overpowering empathy for many a people and things. We live in a sometimes-mindless society, with a herd-like mentality, which I believe is leading us to our eventual demise. As you grow older and more aware you realize the horrors and unjustness of things you never really thought about before. Commonplace things have a rallying force behind them, people trying to make a difference whatever their desired outcome, for example vegans for the animals and religious extremists against Halloween. I grew up celebrating Thanksgiving as a time to gather with the family and enjoy good food together, but just this year the beginnings of Thanksgiving was revealed to me in a more evil light, practically ruining what I previously held as true. All in all I still love the holiday, if not just for the meaning it holds for me, no regard to it’s original reasons for celebration, it is truly a day when we can reflect on our lives and appreciate how lucky we are.

That note opens up the question of how such a merciful, modest holiday can be wrapped into the “holiday season,” a full month of greed and excess. I heard a joke the other day and see the terrible truth that it is, “black Friday: because only in America people trample each other for sales exactly one day after being thankful for what they already have.” The even worse thing about this joke than it’s truth, is the fact that now black Friday isn’t just Friday, it starts Thanksgiving and runs until Monday now. We are a capitalist country of consumerism, where we never have enough and will run ourselves into lifetimes of debt trying to fill some ever-growing hole in ourselves.

Maybe growing up with not a lot of money and very hardworking parents showed me the value of objects and the impermanence of wealth and material things. Maybe I am able to step back from consumerist illness we all are drunk on and say “I’d rather not” because I have adapted to live without. This is important, we are bigger. Simplicity is key, and this we shall teach our children. Be not a mindless hungry beast, be the wandering feather in the wind, not tethered or weighted down.

Melissa. Missy. Mama Eastman.

You were an angel from the very start, but tragically the best things always tend to end too soon.

You are a badass Melissa.

The perfect balance between sweet mama bear and “I’ll whoop your ass in a drinking contest.”

I don’t know how long it will take me to realize you aren’t here anymore.

You are the flip flop air freshener dangling from your Hummer’s rear view mirror; your smile as you tell us about how one of the guys with disabilities that you take care of and you have so much love for, picked it out all by himself just for you. You kept that little flip flop dangling there for months, even after the smell had been faded out of it.

You are in the candles that filled your house, never once burned as if to save them for some special day that needed just a little extra light. Fear of expending their beauty on something menial, but all lost in such a short time. If only we could have enjoyed your beautiful light forever.

I remember you driving us home from school when we were just 6 or 7. We were having a particularly grumpy day and you turned to us fussing in the back seat with a fresh bag of milanos. You told us that “milanos make you happy. It is a scientific fact.” I remember reaching my little hand inside of that stiff paper bag and fishing out one of those happiness cookies; and it worked. One cookie and we were all laughing.

Milanos make you happy.

I wish it were still that simple.

I loved the trips you would take us on; the “staycations” just across the state. Our girl trips when we were so small and going away with mom, even if she wasn’t your own, was the biggest, most exciting adventure. Now I see both happy and sad times in those trips; our pure naïve innocence to her someday departure from her role on earth.

You are beautiful in every single way Missy. Not a day will go by where you aren’t being loved from afar. I hope there are lots of milanos wherever you are now; you deserve all of the happiness in the universe. 

S**t I Don't Like

Shit I don't like:

Men with eyes that slice like double edged swords.

Men that seem friendly, harmless, maybe even gracious,

until they open their mouths.

Men that have things to say to me,

about me.

Don’t tell me that I am so beautiful as I stand,

feet aching,

stomach grumbling,

counting down the minutes in this unrelenting job.

Don’t stand and talk to me about things that make me

exceedingly

uncomfortable

while I am trying to work.

Don’t flirt with me while I am in a position that requires my

joyousness

 compliance

cordiality.

You are as old as my father,

an incredibly gentle man who taught me self respect

that you so choose to belittle.

You are out of time Sir.

I cannot waste any more of mine on your

goopy

shit

 compliments on my appearance. 

You are out of place Sir.

No I will not call you by your first name,

no matter how many times I see you a month.

Formality is what separates us.

Just as you should call me by my full name,

the name my parents gave me.

A string of letters which describe me more than just that

pretty face

you think

I have. 

This is My Winter Song to You

I was born to January, with its freeze your nose off frigid winds and crystal white blankets.

I was born to the month of rebirth, the starting of new, the clean slate with its promises and potential. Many of the people I love most in this world were introduced to the world in the cold winter months, my husband and brother both born in November, as well as my best friend, and my sister in October. These are some of the warmest people I know, the hardiest too, which makes sense, battling the frost of the world since their very start.

I love the winter like I love my people, a New England winter and no less. I sit here in the cool of Arizona with my people far away for longer than they have ever been from me before and memories have such a warm gleam. I like that though; being able to think of the cold harsh landscape, too thin gloves, trying to clear the foot of snow off your windshield so you can make it to school on time, with such positivity and love.

This will be my first complete year away from home ever, my first full winter without snow, and for that I don’t know how to feel. I understand that life is like this, that change happens and you must accept it, and I do, it is just a funny thing, something you don’t always realize until after it has already happened. This everlasting August, will it ever cease and break open like an egg being cracked, releasing all of the mess of winter upon us? Will we just slide through the seasons for the next two years we are here, only realizing we have lived all of that time once we are nestled in front of our fireplace of our future Vermont home. I see the latter yet I do not know; I am but a pendulum, swinging and swaying, suspended in space.

Foodie Booty, A Life of Conscious Consumption

I was lucky enough to be raised by health-oriented people; my parents both are very much into staying active and eating healthy. I really attribute my parent’s exotic pallets, and therefore mine, to my grandma and grandfather, my mother’s parents. My grandfather was ahead of his time with his ideas about organic clean eating and living a non-consumeristic lifestyle, and raised my mom with those ideals. My grandma came over from Korea shortly after her and my grandfather were married there and with her she brought a lifetime of exotic eats, an amazing cook, whom later started her own award winning restaurant. I was raised eating a salad with my dinner every night, and fruit with my breakfast every morning, no red meat, only turkey and chicken, and absolutely limited amounts of processed foods. 

I have been a vegetarian now for just about seven years and I’ve loved almost every minute of it. I decided to do it when I was about 14, on this save the world kick, as well as weighted with all of the middle school self consciousness of a hormonal girl of my age. One of my best friends had recently gone vegetarian and encouraged me to do the same, that I would feel way better, be able to keep weight off, and save the world at the same time. The first few months were the hardest, but my mom helped me experiment with new options and substitutes, and now here I am, with an extensive repertoire of meals, and appreciation for new foods I had previously never tried before. I see myself keeping this lifestyle for the rest of my life, and passing it on to my children, because it really is an amazing way to stay healthy, and just a little thing we can do to make the world a better, more humane place.

It can sometimes be hard to come up with ideas for meals, but in reality many meals you have been eating before you went vegetarian, you can continue eating with the meats substituted out with alternatives such as beans, texturized vegetable protein (TVP), cauliflower, eggs, tempeh, tofu, and all veggie products you can find in the vegetarian section of the freezer aisle at your local supermarket. I have had a bad experience with eating too much soy when I first became a vegetarian that involved hormone imbalance, plus soy is super processed, so it is the alternative I use the least. I prefer cauliflower, TVP, beans, eggs, and veggie frozen products when I am too busy for anything else. Here are a few good websites I have found that have had some delicious vegetarian recipes to get you started:

http://www.thekitchn.com/beautiful-beans-15-delicious-r-142106

http://spoonuniversity.com/cook/make-5-dinners-for-under-25-only-using-ingredients-from-trader-joes/

http://www.buzzfeed.com/spoonuniversity/i-hate-salad?utm_term=.bcdbykOl4#.bwQZgozVa

http://www.yummly.com/