49 Innocent People

  I've been trying to write about Saturday night's massacre in Orlando for two days now. Everything I say seems trivial, small. As if I'm making no sense, even to myself. I guess that's because it is. How can I possibly ever convey to you the outrage and sadness I feel? I can't understand it myself.

  All I know is that Saturday morning 50 people woke up. Went to work. Took care of their kids. Got a haircut. Had lunch. Talked to their parents. Held the door for someone. Did some laundry. Hugged a friend. Went dancing. 

  But one of these people took an automatic weapon and a hand gun with him when he went to the club, legally obtained I should add. When the dust finally settled he was dead. So were 38 others. Eleven more have died in the hospital since then. And more to come since many who were taken to hospital had life threatening injuries.

  Forty nine innocent people did not see the sunrise. They didn't get a chance to say goodbye to their families, children or friends. No last rites for the religious. No one to hold their hand at the end. 

 Gone forever.

  Ang
  

  


  

Mrs. Turner

  By now you have all heard about the 6 month jail sentence rapist, Brock Turner, received from a California judge. In fact he probably won't even serve that entire sentence. General consensus says more likely three. 

  He will be on a registered sex offender list which will limit his career choices, where he lives, where he travels. It will impact all relationships he has. With women, family and friends. In fact this is the only true punishment he will receive. Jail is not prison. Six months is not fourteen years.

  Now the father is being vilified for defending his son. The words he chose were.....honestly I can't come up with a suitable description. However I don't want to talk about that. 

  I want to talk about Carleen Turner, the mother of this rapist. A woman. The mother of a young woman. A mother who I'm sure taught her daughter how to be safe in many situations. Who probably told her to be extra careful going to parties. To be smart about her surroundings and the people in them. You know, what almost every mother tells their daughters.

  Carleen Turner the nurse. A nurse who probably has seen more than her share of rape victims coming through an ER. A nurse who most likely has seen the terror, shame and pain in the eyes of young women her daughters age. A nurse who had to administer HIV tests and take swabs for rape kits for the police. A nurse who had to stand by while a young woman howled in pain, rocking on the floor in the corner.

  What is going through her mind. Is she questioning all of her parenting decisions? Is she blaming herself? Wondering if she should have talked to her son more about treating women with respect? I would assume all of the above.

  I would also assume that while she may defend her son in public, privately she is struggling. Remember she has a daughter too. What can she possibly say to her? That would be the most brutal of all I think.

  Don't take this as I'm feeling bad for this rapist. Or his father. But there are two women in the picture that have done no wrong. And I know many of you blame the parents but I'd bet my life they never told him it's ok to rape someone.

  One quick note on the young woman who was raped....she will be fine. The inner strength it took to read and write those words show me that yes you have some healing to do but you will be just fine. Better than fine. You will be inspirational.

  Ang

43 Hours

  The boys went camping Friday with Scouts. It's a wonderful opportunity for them to spend time in the great outdoors, sleeping under the stars and learning new skills. Making memories with new friends. All that great stuff.

  But it's also been a unique and happy experience for John and I too. That's right we were alone. Just us. No kids. Do you have any idea how long it's been? Two years! Two years! In fact it was because of this same particular Scout camp.

  At first we were almost giddy with excitement. A feeling of freedom that is unexpected and makes you light-headed. Where should we go? What should we do? The possibilities are endless. 

  By the time we dropped them off and drove back to the city it was time for a late supper and too late for a movie. That's ok because we had an entire day to do what WE wanted. 

  Saturday morning...awake at 7:04. That's a two hour sleep in for John and an hour for me so we were happy as clams. Over coffee we talk about how to spend the day. So while we decide, we get caught up on this show we've never had time for....the next three hours are gone. 

  Ok it's almost noon. Still plenty of time. A quick bite at home and we head out to see some open houses and show homes. We always enjoyed that and the kids don't so.....but Saturday is not the best day for this. Sunday is but we persevere. A few places are open and we take some pictures of ideas we want to steal. Success.

  We come back home to change for dinner. But we can't agree on where we should go. Finally we pick the race track so we can play a few slot machines afterwards....not very romantic I know. We seem to have forgotten how far in the middle of nowhere this place really is or how bad the food is. Oh well that doesn't matter.

  The next few hours are spent walking around trying to find each other. The place is huge. Finally we decide we have lost enough money and head home. Funny the drive home doesn't seem so long.

  One quick stop for a hair brush...don't ask...and we are home. We are going to watch a movie on Netflix. An Owen Wilson movie. I'm not a fan but the premise is good. It's violent. Not a little. A lot. Violently violent! Too much for me. Asleep I go.

 This morning at 7:10 I wake up. Energized and happy. Our 43 hours of alone time is coming to an end. But we used it very well. We were together. Doing nothing. Talking, laughing, being. It sure is nice to know that almost thirty years later we still like hanging out together. What a great weekend.

  Hopefully we don't have to wait another two years for the next "alone" time.

  Ang

  

Emma's Rant

As the mother of two boys I believe I have a chance to change the world. I can raise two boys to see women as equals. I can teach them that whatever they can do, a women can do. And most importantly I can make them realize women are not objects for their viewing pleasure but human beings who are built beautifully yes, but are so much more than that. A tough job but I think I'm up to the task.

  But mothers of girls....boy I feel for you. Because your girls learn at a ridiculously early age that most boys don't see them that way. They pay the price for moms like me not doing a good job. And they deal with this on a daily basis. Even in places you wouldn't think they should. Like school.

  I'm going to share with you a "rant", her words not mine, by a grade 8 student here in Ottawa about the dress code at her school.....

 "When you interrupt a girls school day to force her to change her clothes, or send her home because her shorts are shorter than knee length, her shoulders or bra straps are visible, just because the school doesn't want boys to look at them, you are telling her that boys having a distraction free learning environment is more important than her education. INSTEAD OF SHAMING GIRLS FOR THEIR BODIES, TEACH BOYS THAT THEY ARE NOT SEXUAL OBJECTS.

  It is not right to take thirty minutes out of a girls school day, when it is not the girls fault. Maybe it is the fault of the people who view them sexually. Girls do not shop at a sex store for back to school shopping. In fact, most girls who violate the dress code by showing their lower thighs, belly button, shoulders and more, their "inappropriate" clothes were purchased by their parents.

  Let us remind you that our skin is to protect our bones, organs and muscle tissue from bacteria and more. A belly buttons presence is due to an umbilical cord when they were first born. And breasts main use are for women feeding their new born children.

  An 8th grade student claims that she had been to at least four stores before finding shorts that fit the dress code (down to her knees). Girls should not have to go through so much trouble and spend more money to buy clothes that fit the overly strict and unfair dress code.

  written by Emma" 

 Enough said.

 Ang

Oh Canada

  Here is a list of things that need some readjusting/help/fine tuning here in Canada. Healthcare, education, Veteran's Affairs, criminal justice system, high taxes, childhood poverty, long term disability......the list goes on and on. While I will always say that I live in the best country in the world, we have our fair share of problems in need of a fix. However right now the issue front and center involves none of the above. 

  Someone has decided Oh Canada, our national anthem, needs to be changed. To be more inclusive. Change "in all thy sons command" to "in all of us command". A small change really. Two words taken out and replaced by two more. Not harder to sing and certainly not a big deal song wise. 

  However...it's our national anthem. Ours. Mine and the entire 36 million or so people of this great nation. And it was brought up after the election. So my MP has no idea what his constituents feel on the matter. He can, and will, vote based solely on his own opinion and with maybe a little input from the few voters who will send an email. This could have been a separate vote during the election last fall. Then the people could have decided.

  The MP who decided women needed to be represented is Mauril Belanger. A man. Did he ask any women if they felt left out? And if he did...how many? From where? What age group? I certainly wasn't asked. No woman has ever mentioned to me that they were asked about this issue or ever said they felt neglected for that matter. I'm not sure but I don't recall the Canadian Women's hockey team being upset when they won a gold medal and the anthem was played. If memory serves me right they sang. Loud. Clear. And proud.

  I'm all for political correctness. But I do think there can be too much of it. Inclusiveness is important in daily life. Fight for the changes that really matter.

  When everything is made an issue we won't know when a real one comes along.

  Ang

  

  

  

Perspective...again.

  Yesterday was going down hill pretty fast. My patience was worn thread bare. After being gone for the weekend camping, Riley was tired and grouchy. After two days without his brother to pick on, Alex felt he had some catching up to do in that department. John hadn't slept all weekend and was trying to catch 40 winks upstairs. I was left to handle the chaos that is our two sons.

  I was losing quite badly. In fact when the dust settled no one was happy. Certainly not me. I stomped downstairs.....yes stomped. Slamming doors and mumbling obscenities under my breath. Ok maybe not completely under my breath.

  No one EVER goes near the laundry room but me so I knew the peace I craved was waiting for me there. I folded towels. I put in another load. I calmed down. Serenity now I thought. You Seinfeld fans know what I'm talking about. 

  Coming upstairs after my own little temper tantrum I decided to play a mind numbing game on the iPad. As I was scrolling through the apps I noticed a new message on my Facebook.

  In an instant I went from crazy woman to joyful friend. My friend Janet sent a message saying she was a Grammie! A Grammie! She couldn't contain the joy. Every word she typed was filled with it. Her smile in the photos was the most beautiful you've ever seen.

  Miraculously I was happy again. Not just happy but elated. I had tears in my eyes just seeing how happy she was. And the baby!! He is adorable. Perfection. Mom was doing well too. What more could you ask for?

  One of my favorite words is perspective. In a heartbeat I gained it yesterday. Yes my kids were driving me to the edge but remembering that initial joy of motherhood brought it all into....perspective.

  Congratulations Janet! You will be a fantastic Grammie! And your daughter will be a fantastic mother.....look at her role model.

  Ang

There Was a Book???

  Last night was my famous book/wine club monthly meeting. As always it was loud, fun and alcohol infused. We solved each others problems and a few of the worlds. 

  Every month we catch up on each others lives. Find out about our jobs, kids and spouses. Talk about vacations, births and deaths. What tv shows we are watching and the great new restaurant we've found. 

  Some people find it hard to believe but seven women are in the same room, talking, disagreeing or maybe even arguing but knowing we have each others backs. That we don't have to agree on everything to love and respect each other. What a sense of freedom.

  Now this time I can't give you details of what was discussed. One I had to leave early. Two I didn't get around to chatting to everyone because of reason number one. I can say that Jen had a fabulous time in NYC and she would go back any time.

  Next time I'll stay til the end.

  Ang