I have moved to new digs in the blogging world. Granted I haven’t written in quite a while, but I do want to get moving again. A friend of mine has urged me to keep on keepin’ on and I am sure this friend is right. I really miss writing - whether I am good at it or not. I am just not sure that Mommies Paradise is my venue anymore. My life has changed so drastically in the last year and I am no longer that woman. And yet… and yet… therein lies the question.

Please visit me at Riotous Transformation. There are some cross posts there but there are also some things that may be new to you. Check it out and thanks for reading!

I have missed you so!

The Army drops its IQ…again. Apparently the percentage of new Army recruits with high-school diplomas has dropped from 94% in 2003 to 70.7% percent in 2007. The Pentagon has a goal of 90%. And of those with a diploma only 44.6% score in the upper 50th percentile on the Armed Forces aptitude tests, down from 56.2% in 2005.

And so…

In order to meet recruitment targets, the Army has even had to scour the bottom of the barrel. There used to be a regulation that no more than 2 percent of all recruits could be “Category IV”—defined as applicants who score in the 10th to 30th percentile on the aptitude tests. In 2004, just 0.6 percent of new soldiers scored so low. In 2005, as the Army had a hard time recruiting, the cap was raised to 4 percent. And in 2007, according to the new data, the Army exceeded even that limit—4.1 percent of new recruits last year were Cat IVs.

I know that any branch of the military is not made up of free thinkers but must they be dumb too? Dumb scares me more than smart. What will this do to the already high statistics of the abuse of female soldiers in the Army?

And who are these people who are graduating from high school but can’t really pass an aptitude test? Even more fallout from our lacking education system.

That aside, the author sites four clear issues with this whole idea of a stupid Army:

1. Is that really fair to the “downtrodden?”

2. High school dropouts drop out of the military too, henc more recruitment of dumb people.

3. “A dumb Army is a weak Army.”

4. Soldiers need to be particularly bright given today’s approach to “battle.” We don’t fight big battles anymore, where the reds are on one side and the blues are on the other and someone yells Charge! and everyone runs in. We live in a world of insurgencies and ground covering. Soldiers are face to face with people and so must have people skills. Dumb people don’t have people skills in the sense that we are talking today.

The Army’s 2006 field manual on counterinsurgency, which was supervised by Gen. David Petraeus (who is now trying to put its principles into action as U.S. commander in Iraq), emphasized that successful counterinsurgency operations “require Soldiers and Marines at every echelon to possess the following”—and then the authors recite a daunting list of prerequisites, including a “clear, nuanced, and empathetic appreciation of the essential nature of the conflict,” an “understanding of the motivation, strengths, and weaknesses of the insurgent,” rudimentary
knowledge of the local culture, and several other admirable qualities.

I don’t know. I am not a fan of war and I hope that my son never makes the choice to join the military. Given our current regime and executive power players, I can’t imagine why any smart person would join the Army. But I also think that it is just asking for trouble to recruit from the most low hanging of fruit.

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Go check out the tons and tons of bloggers who are taking time to talk about why choice is important to them.

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Today is the 35th anniversary of Roe vs. Wade. When I started to write this I went looking for some specific death rate statistics prior to legalized abortion. Depending on who you believe the number is 10,000 annually between 1960-1970 or something like 120. The larger number reflects a common pro-choice viewpoint based on estimations since many deaths would not have been reported as abortion induced.  The smaller number is a number which is inconsistent throughout the pro-”Life” propaganda. What is consistent is the sentiment that not that many women really died, so that isn’t a big deal. I am of the firm belief that the death of any woman is one too many. Wouldn’t that make someone really for “Life?”

Prior to the 1973 Roe decision women died because it was decreed that they were not smart enough to make decisions about their own bodies. Hundreds or thousands of women were forced to go through with unsafe medical procedures with little hope of medical assistance should anything go wrong. Women were motivated to perform abortions on themselves. Women died.

Roe vs. Wade saved lives. Even if it was one or one million.  No woman should be forced into slavery and oppression because of a selfish and cruel group of ignorant humans who are simply well organized.

I am young enough that I do not remember an American nation where contraception was unavailable and the right to terminate a pregnancy was forbidden. There was a Planned Parenthood clinic one block from my high-school where we all went for our birth control pills and we could receive free pregnancy tests. We could go in any time and get information. It was always understood that we had options. And no one would tell our parents. I don’t recall anyone talking about Roe vs. Wade in my classes but admittedly I was pretty bored in school and paid little attention.   Someone could have brought it up but I may have been in such a deep coma from the boring day-to-day drivel of too old teachers (who also taught my mom at the same school) that I missed the good stuff.

It honestly never occurred to me that I didn’t have that choice, should I need it. It wasn’t until my senior year in high school that it dawned on me that the right to choose was a controversial one, to say the least. That is when the anti-choicers started hanging out on the street in front of my high school. For a few months they would show up a couple of days a week protesting, with the picture of the bloody fetus. You know the one. The one with the picture of a very late term fetus but with the words “Your Baby at 2 WEEKS” or some such nonsense. I still can’t figure out why they chose our location as opposed to the actual clinic down the road. I wrote these folks off as religious zealots and just kind of dumb old people. I just assumed that all of us young folks knew the deal. I was not yet clued into the true power of these folks nor was I politically motivated yet.

It wasn’t until I went on to college that I became ever more bewildered and incensed by the Pro-”Life” movement. There I met a woman who was incredibly motivated in her unwavering and scary support for the “Life” movement. This woman was smart. She was motivated to succeed in her education.   She had career goals. She seemed nice enough. She was young. She drove this older car and the entire back of the thing was covered in crazy “abortion-is-murder” bumper stickers, including a version of the baby as fetus picture.

I just couldn’t wrap my head around the idea that here was a well read, seemingly smart woman who was not only anti-abortion as it pertained to her own body but who was also unfailingly anti-choice for every woman in the world, no matter the circumstances. I was shocked by her unwavering lack of compassion for women who were not as privileged as she was. She was the typical Orange County girl. Blonde, blue, Right, blah, blah… (disclosure: I am blonde and blue but I grew up hippy-commune style and I have curves so I don’t really fit in the OC). There simply wasn’t any room in her mind or heart to empathize with any other viewpoint. It was almost as if she had a vehement disdain for all women, even herself, and refused to accept the idea that women deserve the right to have a choice when it comes to their own body. That was shocking to me. I quietly wondered what this woman would do if she found herself in a situation that at best would severely limit her ability to achieve her goals or at worst could threaten her life.

Thank you Roe for giving me the opportunity to not be a parent before my time.

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Here is some stuff I’ve learned in the last six months:

Reliable babysitting provided by someone who is not a grandparent or a VERY, VERY good friend, is a myth.

You can’t truly rely on most people to do as they say they will.

No one will hire you if you bring your three year old to an interview (duh).*

Most employers will assume you are a moron who can not manage your time if you have a child, no matter how much experience you have. This will happen over and over and over… because you know, the less responsibility you have at home, the more responsible you must be.

Recruiting companies are a phenomenal waste of time when looking for a job.

Other women, in the same situation as you, will be quick to tell you what you are doing wrong with every single thing and why you do not have a job. They will be unemployed and their child a neurotic mess.

Unless you are actually living on the street, in a box, with more than one child, you will never qualify for gov’ment assistance. Although we get generous spousal and child support, there have been times when I have wondered how we will afford food or rent. We do not however qualify for any type of “assistance.”** This is not the first time I have been deemed too wealthy for the ever popular government assistance program. When I first became pregnant in 2003, Mr. Daddy had been laid off and I was working for little or no commission. I applied for WIC in the hope that I could see an OB. We were denied because my husband was receiving his unemployment benefits and thus we made too much money. Since we were living high-on-the-hog and squandering our money on silly things like food and rent, I could not afford to see a doctor. I was well into my second trimester before I ever received any pre-natal care. By that time Mr. Daddy had procured a good job that offered insurance. Even then we were concerned that the insurance company could/would deny my pregnancy claim as a pre-existing condition. It’s true! I have told this story to people who are familiar with these programs or work with people who have been able to acquire some help and I have been told that I simply don’t know how to “work the system” and that I am “too honest.” Nice.

What have you learned this year?

* This really happened once. The babysitter canceled as I was ready to walk out the door. There simply wasn’t any other option and it was a second interview. I reasoned that if I didn’t at least show up to the interview I really wouldn’t get the job and at least this way I would be making an effort.

** The guidelines by which “assistance” is given are questionable. Upon investigating, these “guidelines” open up a whole new understanding as well as a blinding frustration and rage regarding the plight of homeless women and children.

Never go with a hippy to a second location. - Jack Donaghy, 30 Rock

My parents were hippies and I can say that this is funny because its true. NEVER go to a second location. You may end up on a commune.

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My butt is so strong it could blow off that wall! - That Baby

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No, you can NOT pee in my ficus tree (which is in a giant pot on the patio) like at grandpappy’s. We aren’t animals. Now take off my high heels and go pee in the toilet. - Me to That Baby

I should explain that grandpappy lives on twelve acres of open land with lots of places to just drop trow and pee. Also this whole exchange really comes into focus when you know That Baby was also not wearing pants at the time.

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I did. Well, me and about 9,999 other people. I ran the five mile Nike Run Hit Remix on Saturday morning at the Los Angeles Coliseum.

It was great fun. Along the race course, runners were entertained by old schoolers Naughty By Nature, Sir Mix-A-Lot, The Sugarhill Gang and a singer from En Vogue, Dawn Robinson (really brought the running down with a mellow tune - blech!). As a rocking ending to a raucous run, MC Hammer brought us all in to the Coliseum with a flashback concert. He did all of his old hits and ofcourse he had an army of dancers who were awesome. And that man can still dance. He was all over the place.

It was tons of fun and an easy five mile run. I am kind of falling in love with running. Especially if I am doing it with friends. I find myself looking out for new group runs to do. I think the half marathon is my limit though. That thing was grueling and I can’t even imagine what a full marathon would feel like.

Then again one never really knows what the future has in store.

Yay!!

Via Feministing

I walked down the hall in a silence interrupted vaguely by the ding of the elevator bell. Of course it was dark outside. It was 4:30 am. I took the silent elevator down. I remembered that my body is strong and that I was ready for this.

The doors to the elevator opened to a shocking amount of people dressed similar to me. They all seemed eager and maybe a little bit caged. They all looked ready.

I found my pace group. These are the people that I have known for the last four months. Every Saturday morning we met. We synchronized, we talked and we breathed. We have listened to the cadence of our shoes pounding on the pavement for miles and miles. And we were sweaty. We were a well-oiled machine at times. At times we were just tired and sore.

And now we are here. It is dark and it is early. And we made it here.

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For some sick reason I am laughing at this. Divorce is hard and all but this may not be the way to resolve conflict.

Woman Sets Fire to Ex-husbands’ Penis

MOSCOW (Reuters) - A woman set fire to her ex-husband’s penis as he sat naked watching television and drinking vodka, Moscow police said Wednesday.

Asked if the man would make a full recovery, a police spokeswoman said it was “difficult to predict.”

The attack climaxed three years of acrimonious enforced co-habitation. The couple divorced three years ago but continued to share a small flat, something common in Russia where property costs are very high.

“It was monstrously painful,” the wounded ex-husband told Tvoi Den newspaper. “I was burning like a torch. I don’t know what I did to deserve this.”

Um, well, to answer the fellow’s question…

“…he sat naked watching television and drinking vodka…”