One of the immediate and idiotic proposals after the riots was to bring back mandatory national service for all kids. I asked - will the prime minister's children get a free pass on that? Because I know that I will not let my children serve in a quasi-military organisation, ever. They will be in school.
This week Hipmama.com Radio features an interview with Ina May Gaskin, founding member of The Farm and mother of modern midwifery. The interview is fantastic and reminds us that the fundamental controversy of parenting happens before you meet the baby: where, and how, will you give birth?
Pregnancy and childbirth are natural, normal, and integral events in the lives of the majority of women, whether we choose to be mothers or not. Most of our bodies are inherently capable of creating life - often to our surprise.
Report from the third night of London riots:
Never fear, we are fine.
Though all the stores near me have closed, riot cops have partitioned part of the local area, armoured vehicles are streaming past, and helicopters are swooping overhead.
At age twenty-five I was passionate, opinionated, adamant. I believed in an undefined Utopia, and that it could be created right there and then. In pursuit of that goal I had started nonprofits, finished graduate school, had two kids. I'd embarked on and abandoned a career in government when I realised the limits of service.
Hate mail is a routine and perplexing part of my life. Perk of the job?
Anyway, the best so far today is related to Girl-Mom:
This Web site almost had my passionate inquiry until I read you executed ‘pro-choice’ rationale. Too bad. Which teen moms are pro-choice, anyway? I’d imagine most would have aborted their children before having to endure teenage motherhood.
Huh. Damned if you do, damned if you don't... this is a really typical reaction. And yet another example of why I think that the site is so important.
My productivity is set by the health of my right hand, and that is determined by how often I use it.
If I rest, and keep the arm close at my side, the hand remains useful for simple tasks like opening doors. But if I do any manual activities for longer than half an hour - including but not limited to cooking, cycling, and typing - the hand blows out. Literally: the numbness starts in my smallest crooked finger and spirals up around the arm to my neck, with shooting pain following posthaste.
Last week I read an article detailing the fact that an African-American teenage mother, Kymberly Wimberley, earned the highest GPA in her class at Arkansas' McGehee School District.
But this young woman was forced by the school district to share the honor with a white student. She responded by filing a lawsuit alleging that this was unlawful discrimination, based on the fact that she was a black teenage mother.
Exactly twenty-one years ago the world was introduced to madcap, marauding Mina Lavender. Hilarious, honourable, fierce, and the smartest person I've ever met: it has been an honour and a privilege to know her, and I am so excited to see what she does next!
Walking around Paris with my daughter I was shocked beyond reason to find that men stared at her.
This should not have been surprising - if you've read even a little bit about France you would probably guess that cultural attitudes about flirting and sundry mating rituals are specific to the place.
Heck, I'm completely oblivious to such things and even my backwards self has clocked the fact that waiters pet my hair. Elsewhere in the world nobody would dare, but in Paris strangers walk right up and touch my arm.
The other day I was wandering around Paris with my daughter in search of the perfect patisserie.
We were talking about completely random topics when she suddenly erupted in rage over a passing implication that she might one day have a baby of her own.
"I will never have children! I don't know why everyone keeps telling me I will!"