The Good Fruits of Lance Armstrong

 

This week Lance Armstrong  was stripped of his 7 Tour De France titles and banned from his sport, and it feels like somebody died. It’s the same sting you feel when a long forgotten friend passes- it’s nothing personal or life- altering but somehow, the world feels subtly dimmed. He never admitted to the doping charges and both sides of the argument will still continue to think what they want.  He did assume guilt though by dropping his challenge to U.S. Anti-Doping Agency allegations that he used performance-enhancing drugs saying “I refuse to participate in a process that is so one-sided and unfair."  

To me, and most of the country, Lance Armstrong represented more than just his super athlete status.  To me he represented reaching in your gut and finding your best self. To me his story teaches about taking what life gives you and making the most of it. He represents the ability we all have to be stronger today than we were yesterday. Also, he made cycling cool.  He made fighting cancer cool. He made otherwise unsightly plastic wristbands cool. 

Lance first came into my life 7 years ago in a time when I was in a funk.  It was a time where I felt my horizons were totally underwhelming.  I was fresh out of college and using my hard earned BYU degree at a mediocre- paying, high- turnover job. I felt like I was wasting away.

Then I read Lance’s bestselling book “It’s Not About the Bike” and things started to shift.  I loved his comeback story. I was deeply impressed and inspired.  After reading his book, knowing nothing about bikes, I went to the nearest bike shop one evening and bought a red, bulky mountain bike.  I rode it 30 miles round trip to work every day. It was a catalyst that helped dispel my self-pity. I began to like myself, my job, my life, better.   Seven years later I still teach a weekly indoor cycling class and am still enjoying the fruits of Lance Armstrong.

Headlines like “Cheat-strong” and “Lance’s Disgrace” are making front page news and it’s sad.  It’s sad that this denunciation nullifies everything Lance Armstrong ever did on a bicycle, while tainting much of what he has done off of one. I hope that because of his philanthropic work and compelling story that we cut him some slack.  Maybe I should feel a little more betrayed, but I still think the lessons we have learned from Lance are valid. The lives he has influenced remain changed, cheating and all.

The first day of school came and went and not a single tear was shed. In fact despite all the self-imposed hype, it all happened rather seamlessly. His last words before entering kindergarten were "Mom, now you DO know that I'm going now, right? You're going to have to go." And with that we exchanged a giant hug and he was off into the big, mom-less world.  

Liam’s First Day of Real Life:

The first day of school is tomorrow. I know it’s just full day kindergarten-it’s not boarding school, or off to war.  But it feels like a BIG, taking-over-my-life, deal. I’ve seen this coming; in fact I shed my first tears over the eventuality of Liam leaving for kindergarten when he was still just 2.  

I think maybe it’s asking a bit much of me to give up my first born child to elementary school.  My kids are my prized possessions, the best thing that ever happened to me, and they expect me to surrender one of them to a stranger, a teacher I’ve barely met. (Although she does seem highly capable) He’ll play with kids that haven’t been pre-approved and do all kinds of things he didn’t ask me permission to do. It seems obtrusive. In fact, I would rather some stranger came and slept in my bed, wore my underwear, and drank out of my milk jug. 

As I send Liam to school, I send him with soaring, high hopes-

I hope his teacher will see him for the brilliant, sweet, curious boy he is. I want to pull her aside, look her in the eyes, and tell her “All kids are special but this kid. . . he’s REALLY special.”

I hope the other kids will be nice, sheltered, and also well loved.

I hope learning will come easily and be enjoyable. I hope he won’t be too bored. I hope Kindergarten will provide  a good academic foundation.

I hope he will love meeting lots of new friends. I hope he won’t care a bit that he’s the only white kid (well, actually there are 2) in his class.

I hope he will still stay naive and that he will still love snuggling with his mom, liberally giving her hugs and kisses, calling her pretty and playing pretend. (I know some of that stuff will change, but I’m hoping not this year!)

Sometimes I feel like Peter Pan who never wants anyone to grow up, get big, or change. At every age I look at my children and say “I want you to stay this age forever, you are perfect the way you are!” But, they eat , they sleep, and they grow. They develop into someone,  yes, older but more developed, a little smarter and still just as wonderful. 

Maybe kindergarten isn’t the end after all.

Maryland's eastern shore

 For my birthday I wanted to take a road trip. So we took off for a camping trip on the beaches of Assatugue Island National Seashore.  It feels good to get out of town and get a little (or if you're Elsie, a lot) sandy.

The island is popular because it's home to herds of wild horses, which Elsie loved. We ate a a restaurant on a floating boat that was surrounded with baby crabs and fish.

diligent wiggling

After a few weeks of diligent wiggling Liam's first loose tooth came out.  It was at Subway, and thankfully without any trauma. He put it in a little ear plug case and has been carrying it around since. Luckily the tooth fairy didn't have the heart to take the actual tooth so she let him keep it and gave him the dollar.  In true Liam questioning, curious, fashion he asked "Mom was it you that put the dollar with my tooth?!" Maybe I (the tooth fairy) need to be more convincing next time.

 I love toothless kids. Their awkward look is just so irresistible.

Liam was showing Elsie how to do a 'crazy face.'

My Mormon Feminist Manifesto

I am thankful God made me a woman. As a Mormon I am glad to be a part of an organization that loves women and motherhood-just as much as I do.  Part of growing up is sorting out how the beliefs of our childhood translate into the complexities of our adulthood.  For me that means I have spent time trying to reconcile what I have observed and experienced as a Mormon woman, from the rosy, “Women are wonderful!“ messages I am told in Church. I write this post as a way to process through conflicting thoughts, as an attempt to figure out myself.

………

 “Raise your hand if you’re a feminist.”

You never expect to hear those words in Sunday school.  I sheepishly raised my hand, bent at the elbow, looking around to see who was watching and hoping I wasn’t part of some Sunday school witch hunt.

The instructor nodded, glanced quickly around the room, and said, “OK, but shouldn’t we all be feminists?”

The teacher went on to define a ‘feminist’ not as a bra-burning, Gloria Stienem clone, but as someone who advocates for the respect and equal treatment of women. He emphasized the need to support and provide opportunity to women. 

After he framed it that way, he asked the same question again. Everyone raised their hand.

I consider myself your average, friendly, neighborhood feminist- not a man hater, not a rebel.   I am a Church-lover and temple-goer.  I sustain my Church leaders. It is simultaneously easy for me to see God’s hand in the LDS Church, and to also assert that the Mormon culture and institution could do much, much better. 

I have spent many years of my life trying to piece together and make sense of how females are treated in the LDS Church.  Why do we insist that girls are equal, even preternaturally saintly, but withhold ecclesiastical or administrative authority? Why do women only teach and preside over other women and children? Why do we allow widowed men to be sealed to 2 women? Where are the women in the teachings of our Church’s history?  Is it really necessary for the Church bureaucracy to be all male?

I have spent a lot of time on my knees praying for answers, and I seem to generate new questions faster than they are answered.

I remember when, as an 8-year-old, I asked my mom why girls were left out of scouts. LDS boys went to summer camp and had banquets where they got prizes and colorful merit badges—but the girls had nothing. I remember naively wondering if my mom could fix it and make things  fair for girls like me if I begged her enough. If only it were that easy.

Two and a half years ago I scheduled a meeting with the Temple President to discuss the disparities between male and female, specifically in the temple but also the general Church. His answer was ‘Well, I get asked this every week. I’m sure it’s all for a reason, I’m just not sure what the reason is.”

During a recent temple recommend interview I brought up these concerns and received a similar well intentioned response. I was told, “I ask myself this same question a lot, and your concerns are valid. But, I don’t know.  It’s just the way it is.”

Maybe there are no satisfying answers.

I’m not asking for a revolution, but I’m convinced we could be more inclusive and still keep things pristine.  I believe there are many small changes we could make which would both fit with our doctrine and be welcomed indicators of progress. A few include:

-Allowing women to (finally) pray in General Conference

-Permitting a Relief Society President to conduct a mixed gender meeting, if the Bishop was unavailable.

-Letting moms sometimes conduct Family Home Evening.

-Stop making Sunday School presidents, ward mission leaders, and ward clerks gendered (male) positions.

I don’t want to be telling other LDS women what to do or think. Feminists have an obnoxious reputation of doing that. I don’t want to unearth anyone if the paradigm that woman are living with works for them.  My mom is one of those strong LDS women that can honestly say she has never felt slighted in the Church due to her womanhood. She has felt listened to and cherished. She has had opportunities to serve and has made an impact on her community. She wishes those same experiences for me. So do I.

So what is a Mormon feminist to do?   Part of me feels like if people, the Church leadership, were keenly aware of feelings of inequality, things would change.  Do dissatisfied voices need to be louder? It’s starting to get to me. Should I write a letter of request to the Apostles? Should I try to get my friends to listen?  

I’m not about to start making awkward comments in Relief Society or Sunday School. It’s not the venue, and it’s just not my style.  I don’t want people to see my pro-women message as caustic to their spirituality. I know I need to stay hopeful, faithful, and axe the cynicism whenever possible.  I need a positive voice.    

So until something happens, I’ll keep trying to be the type of active congregation member, and visiting teacher I think the church needs.  I’ll contribute to edifying messages about women, as I teach my own kids and my 10-11 year old primary class.  Just because we haven’t gotten things right yet doesn’t mean they aren’t getting better. So I’ll keep loving my neighbor, enjoying my family, and working on myself.

church girls (nuns) gone wild. (well, not really.)

Nuns aren't usually funny, but Stephen Colbert, he's hilarious.  So you should watch this clip.

Here he interviews the the president of the U.S. Catholic nun organization.  A few months back the nuns got together to discuss the need for increased gender equality and requested some formal changes. The Vatican responded by calling these pope- loving gals, "Radical Feminists," a term which seemed overkill.

Of course I'm not going to completely jump on the nun bus, but in some ways, I can relate to them. They love their church, they don't want to make waves, they just want a little female-oriented update.     

   

The Colbert Report	Mon - Thurs 11:30pm / 10:30c
Radical Feminist Nuns - Simone Campbell
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just kids

 Liam showcasing the loose tooth

 This week we went to a newly opened Cafe Rio, 40 minutes from our house.

 Liam saw a picture of a chef and said "That'd be fun to be a chef, but I couldn't do it"

I asked him why and he replied, "Cause, I'd never see you! We'd always be apart and I'd miss you WAY TOO much"

It feels good to be loved. Thanks, Liam.

Elsie is in the middle of potty training. Sometimes when she needs to go potty she asks if she can "RIDE the potty ,Please."  

Definitely makes it sound more exciting that way.

 

In this old house of ours we have a few nasty corners. In this one we have caught 5 mice in the past 3 weeks. The very same trap has killed 10 mice

We caught our weekly mouse and upon seeing it Liam said "I LOVE catching mice!! That's my very favorite thing to do in this house!"

Well, at least someone is having fun with it.

 Elsie peeked at it and said "Need dad! Mouse is stuck! Needs help to go outside!"

Liam looked at her in a matter of fact way and said "Else, don't worry, it's not dead. Just passed out. Dad will take it and let it go outside."

Good thing we have dad, the mouse hero. 

Elsie affectionately calls this glowing-bellied, musical seahorse "Pinky Baby."   She says "Pinky Baby's sad mommy!" cause it is running out of batteries and it sounds like it is slowly dying a moaning, battery drained death.