Coffee and the Abortion Rights Act

For Christmas I gently prodded my parents into buying a laptop computer. Their desktop was old, outdated and not conducive to their lifestyle. The laptop, I assured them, would allow them to get email and info on the road when they camped. I downloaded Skype and gave them a crash course.

My parents are currently camping and forgot their phone charger. Somehow, my father found wi-fi in the woods and they have been teleconferencing with me daily getting the news. Last night my cousin set up my uncle on Skype so this morning I decided to check in with the folks and see if they were able to reach him.

So here is it 6:15 am and I ring their computer. My video frames my face with bed pillows propping me up against my headboard. My mother appears, face extreme closeup dressed in her red flannel robe. I manage a good morning and she is off.

"I'm researching the Abortion Rights Bill. Yesterday at church the priest was telling us about it and it's awful. There will be no restrictions...." She begins a litany of horrors, woman having thousands of abortions a minute, no parent approval, every doctor and hospital in America being hauled off to jail if they dare to refuse to perform the procedure.

My mother informs me she is at her state representative's website trying to figure out how to email him a letter insisting he vote against the Abortion Rights Bill. I calmly walk my mother through the representative's website. I explain not all of them have email addresses, and she can print her letter and mail it to him. The vote is Wednesday and she is frantic. I think I'm being very calm and non-judgemental trying to help her get her voice out there.

Suddenly she stops the conversation and asks if I believe in the bill. I gulp. "I think we're better served caring for the children who are here..." My mother is incensed. She goes off on her litany furious at me. I try and explain my position, that this is an intensely personal belief, that I support her feelings and am helping her get heard. She doesn't hear anything past the fact I am pro-choice. She goes off on the how every doctor in America will have to perform abortions regardless of their beliefs.

"Mom, that isn't necessarily true.." We go at it for a minute when suddenly I put up my hands and plead, "WHOA! Stop Mom. How did we get here? I was just calling to say Good Morning and check if you spoke with Uncle?"

She breathes and laughs and I see my father has walked in to the camper. We go on for a minute or two more about how to call my uncle on Skype. We end and say goodbye.

I know she's sitting in her camper worried about where she went wrong with me. She fears for my salvation and wonders how I could be so wrong. And I sit here drinking my coffee feeling a bit confused and nauseated and wishing the church would redirect all its energy to control women into educating, protecting and accepting them as equals. If we truly cared for the people who are here would abortion be an issue?

It's just too early in the morning for all this drama.

Waking Up Happy

The other day I was reading this article about all the maintenance Martha Stewart does each and every day. I am not surprised that woman will more than likely live to be 200 and look great. I am exhausted just thinking of her routine. I do wish I were so narcissistic to care so much for myself. If I could just have 5% of her love of self. Wow.

One thing did grab me, she said not to dismiss the importance of spouse, partner, family, pets.

This morning I went to drop the Fluffies off at the groomer. They were shaggy and every so smelly. I haven't washed them in some time as my big girl has been sick since Christmas. She has been running fever and extremely lethargic. It's been enough time she's been feeling and frankly I can no longer take the smell. So off they went. As I drove back thinking of the bill to come and dreading it, I suddenly thought of that Martha Stewart list. And suddenly I realized something. I wake up every single day and smile and laugh as I get out of bed. I can't help it. The Fluffies are always jumping and dancing and desperately trying to lick my toes. I push them away as I shuffle out of my room. This ritual, though tiring at times, has never failed to amuse me or make me smile. And suddenly I realized it has been a very long time since I've been sick. (Other than allergies.) I guess Martha is right. Pets help keep us well.