The "A" Word

A is for apple.
A is for alligator.
A is for Argentina.


I'm not planning on discussing apples, alligators or Argentinians in this post. Bummer.
Have you guessed it yet?

Yep, I'm going to talk about a topic that none of us really enjoy and that most of us avoid discussing.

Abortion.

I've been meaning to write a post about abortion for several months now. Since the republican party and Paul Ryan have pulled it to the forefront of political discussions and there was a post about it on FMH today I can't put it off any longer.

Since the topic of abortion was first brought to my attention in early high school I have been trying to decide what my stance is about the issue. First of all, it seems like the word "stance" doesn't fully describe this most sensitive topic. Regardless, my "stance" represents the conclusion that I've decided on after years of careful contemplation.

So, I'm Mormon. You all probably already know that. Like most Christian denominations, in Mormonism abortion is a big fat no-no. It's such a no-no that nobody ever discusses it at all. So, as a teenager I also thought that abortion was an evil-awful-no-good thing that only awful people did. As I've grown older, wiser and become aware of my feminist tendencies I've changed my mind. I still think that abortion is a no-good thing but I think most people, even the extreme pro-choice representatives, think that too.

Is it possible to be pro-choice and pro-life at the same time? I hope so, if not you'll have to commit me to an asylum because I've had my brain addled.

Here's why I'm pro-life: I think that a baby is a baby even when it's just a teeny thing growing inside of someone. I think that all of life should have a fair shot at living (thus my environmentalism). I think that there are spirits in Heaven waiting to come to Earth and get a body. I think that a lot of abortions happen out of fear and lack of education. There are many other options, both pre and post-conception, other than abortion.

Here's why I'm pro-choice: I believe that I have the right to control (to the best of my ability) what is happening inside my body. I want women in this country to be empowered. I don't think that women should have to bear the burdens of pregnancy if they have been the victims of rape, incest, or some other terrible situation (how is this not obvious to some people?). Sometimes the situation is just wrong. Not every woman in every environment is healthy or stable enough to endure a pregnancy and no person can decide that but them.



As you can see, I am sympathetic to both sides of this issue but I think there is more to the story. The culture around sex in this country is screwy (no pun intended). All of our advertisements are sex-centric but we also villianize any sex education other than "abstinence only." Basically the message we send to teens is, "Sex is the pan-ultimate, most desirable thing around but you have to stay away from it for a long time or else you'll get pregnant and have nasty STD's." News flash people: sex is going to happen, teen sex is going to happen, (even in Mormon culture)! In the climate we have created, young men and women are confused, ashamed, and too afraid to seek help before they have a problem.


But what can we do about this impossible situation? 

For starters we can educate our children. The first step to solving the abortion problem is avoiding unwanted pregnancies. Abstinence-only education is a farce and does not help reduce abortion rates. We need to teach children, especially women, how their bodies really work and the reasons why they work that way. Teach them that sex is an important physical and emotional part of life. Instead of putting it on a warped pedestal, teach them that it is normal. Most importantly, arm them with the decision-making skills and the knowledge and tools they need to be safe, regardless of their choices.

The next step is to make access to birth control actually accessible. Birth control, in its wide array of methods, along with good women's health care should be easy, safe, and inexpensive to get for everyone--even teenagers. People that are pro-life need to get behind this idea if they really want to save those unborn fetuses.

There should be more help. Seriously. Women that are pregnant but that don't want to keep the child should be offered lots of assistance so that they can carry the baby to term and adopt it out. Similarly, adoption should be way easier for birth parents and adoptive parents all around.


All of the things I outlined above will help reduce the need for abortion. I tend to consider them common sense, but hey, that's just me. Unfortunately, there will still be situations where abortion is considered. If the pregnancy is a result of rape or incest and that woman wants an abortion, I say she should be allowed an abortion. If the pregnancy is causing serious risks to the mother's health, she should be allowed an abortion. Sometimes a woman will just plain want an abortion, no convincing her otherwise. While I don't like it at all, I think that she should be allowed an abortion too. History has shown us what will happen if we outlaw abortions, abortions will still happen but they will be back-alley style. Back-alley abortions are dangerous and women will die. How can we be pro-life if we are promoting an ideal that results in women's deaths? It's best to have everything out in the open in the light of day where we can at least moniter the safety of all involved.


If you've read through this post and you still align yourself Paul Ryan and think that abortion should be completely illegal, I'm sorry. Please remember that we all, you included, cherish our rights and freedoms. Please remember that abortion is a big deal and that no woman makes the choice to have an abortion lightly. It's difficult and sad but women that choose to abort do so because they are making the decision that they feel is best for all involved. Remember to respect other people's decisions and to always tread softly.

That's what I have to say about that. If that post made you feel uncomfortably squeamish, I apologize. I promise that my next post will be filled with cheeriness and animals.

Goodbye, Reginald

Well folks, it's been a while since I mentioned Reginald, my ovarian cyst. I've been waiting for three months to find out if he would go away on his own or if we would have to remove him. Fortunately today I had another ultrasound and it was Reginald free! Hooray!

Even though they can't tell on an ultrasound, my doctors have been throwing the word "endometriosis" around a lot lately. They are thinking that it may be the cause of my persistent and awful cramps. Unfortunately the only way to really diagnos it is through laparoscopic surgery. I'm meeting a new gynocologist on Thursday who is supposed to talk to me about all of my options at this point. I think that they tend not to like to do very invasive things to women who are wanting to conceive in the semi-near future, but we'll see.

For the time being I am cyst-free and glad of it. To celebrate I laid in bed and read all day, doing absolutely nothing productive. I can't even remember the last time I did that. Now I have to go babysit a little girl accross the street, maybe she'll want to have a going away party for Reginald? Maybe not...

Watch out Eugene, We're Headed Home

Dear Friends, Family and Devoted Unknown Readers,

Ricky was offered and accepted a job (an actual career) in Eugene! We will be returning to Eugene in December and he'll officially start work as an engineer January 1st. When Ricky got the call yesterday afternoon I bawled; the combination of joy and relief rendered me nearly speechless for several minutes. Then we called our parents and some close friends in Eugene to tell them the news. Wonderfully, we had some awesome friends from Eugene in town visiting so we went out to celebrate with them and ate delicious foods all night.

I am so relieved and excited to be going back home. We will have family near by and have lots of friends and life will be grand. Now we just need to find a place to live and a job for me and we'll be set. Anybody have any connections to those things?

Love,
Lauren

A Bad Case of Nerves and a Need for Change

I never thought I'd say it, but I'm really looking forward to a change. It's a scorcher in Seattle today (90 degrees) and I would be melting if we didn't live in a basement. Those few unbearably hot days (for northwesterners) are about the only times that it is a plus to live in a basement apartment. I'm tired of the lack of light, the pitiful ventilation and the constant stream of noises coming from feet and children overhead. I love those children but I'd like to love them on equal ground, not underground. I'm ready to live somewhere else--a place that will hopefully be our last rental! Although Seattle has grown on me, I look forward to a more slow-paced environment.

Luckily for us that change is within our grasp. Ricky set out for Eugene this morning to go to his meeting with "the partners" of the firm he will hopefully get a job with. His meeting is tomorrow afternoon and we are nervous. I'm sure he's more nervous than I am but I struggle with not being able to have a part in a situation in which the outcome affects my life so drastically. I'm sitting here at home with Lucy and counting the hours until he calls tomorrow to tell me whether or not we will get to move back to Eugene. We tried not to get our hopes up but it didn't work. Our hopes are sky high and our stomachs are in our throats. Hold your breath for news!

Another reason that I so desperately want to return to the promised land (Willamette Valley) is my need for a support system. We need to have more than two friends in the city where we live. If we really needed something who could we call for help? The friends we do have here are in a different stage of life. They are at a place in their lives where they need our support but can't necessarily be relied upon to support other people. If I were in Eugene and needed help I would have a long list of people I felt comfortable calling. If that didn't work, family is only an hour away in Salem. But here, if those two friends bail on us or are too busy to help, we're shit out of luck. We've made it work this year but it definitely wouldn't work if we had kids.

I guess this is just another thing to add to my list of reasons why I am actually glad that we had this Seattle adventure: we learned how absolutely important it is to have a support system. If you have time tonight, please send up some extra prayers for Ricky and cross your fingers that tomorrow will bring us some good news.

A Day in the Life: Meadow Day

Thursdays are meadow days in my life. Meadow days are usually a blast but the last two have been very different.

An ideal meadow day would begin with looking at different maps. We teach kids how to use a map legend and then draw contour lines over their knuckles to help them understand topography.

On our hike we stop at the Wishing Maple, a huge Big-leaf Maple, and have snack. I usually tell a story while they eat.

When we get close to the meadow we usually see a rabbit or two. We eat lunch when we get to the meadow and then get going with our big activities for the day.

First is orienteering--learning how to use a compass. I love teaching this and seeing it come together in the kids' heads. After doing a compass-guided scavenger hunt we move into the tall grass and play games.

The favorite is always camoflage. All of the campers hide in the tal grass except one. The camper who is it and didn't hide has to call out the names of the hiders if they see them. They all learn about the best ways not to be seen and we talk about why animals use camoflage. They love it.

We also play a game called predator-prey. It's sort of complicated but essentially involves campers being either mice, weasels or hawks and running around "eating" each other. We play a few rounds with different amounts of each animal. They can see the ways that a food web can easily fall out of balance and they begin to understand carrying capacity.

After a few more fun, run-around games we hike back to camp, do a craft project, and talk about where we would go if we could go anywhere in the world and why we would go there.


Two weeks ago on meadow day I came home in a foul mood. My blood-stained shirt was just one indicator of how my day had unfolded. I had an awful group of boys in my den. They did not listen to a single thing I said, they would not keep their hands and feet to themselves, they could not follow directions to save their lives and they didn't care at all. They were 6 and 7 years old and calling each other assholes for fun. I had tried every trick up my sleeve but it was to no avail.

Orienteering was a wreck. They couldn't even listen long enough to learn how to find north. Camoflage was sort of fun until boys started going outside the boundaries and crying when they were found. It was hot out, they were dumping out their water botles instead of drinking them, it was awful. At long last it was time to hike back to camp. I arranged them in a line to start going back but Luca didn't like where he was in the line so he pushed poor Wyatt, who fell face first into the concrete. I immediately ran over and lifted Wyatt up off the ground and pulled him toward me. His nose started gushing blood and his lip began to swell. I had my first aid kit, but without a sink and a box of tissues we were struggling. Eventually the bleeding stopped and I was confident that Wyatt's nose wasn't broken. I marched all five boys over to a tree, sat them down and was seriously not nice. Back at camp I got Wyatt an ice pack. After the kids left I tidied up my classroom and went home to wash the blood, sweat and tears off of my body. Worst camp day ever.



This past week was so much better. My group had some pretty young kids in it but they were pretty great. They had good attitudes. They loved for me to tell them stories constantly on every hike and during every snack and lunch time. All was well until later in the day. We were playing a final round of camoflage in the grass when "the incident" took place. Sometimes I play camoflage with the kids and hide in the grass. I secretly enjoy it because I can just lay there and close my eyes and rest for a few minutes. I was supervising this time so I wasn't hiding. About 3 of the kids had already been found and the rest of them, including my two teenage jr. naturalists, were hiding near one another. All of the sudden I see heads start popping up out of the grass, then every single one of them comes running toward me screaming "snake!". If you know me at all you know that I do not deal well with snakes. I couldn't help but laugh at the kids though; it was a hilarious site to see them all running and screaming. On that note I said "time to go" and we hiked back to camp.

I guess I'll have to wait and see what adventure or travisty this Thursday will bring.

My Oasys was Really a Mirage

No, I did not mispell the word "Oasis" by accident. Today I had my annual eye exam, necessary so that I could continue to refill me contacts prescription. I saw a new doctor at the closest Costco since this is our first year up here. I absolutely loved the doctor I saw. She asked me if I was still wearing Acuvue Oasys brand contacts (which are the most popular) and I said that I was. She proceeded to ask if I was happy with them and, deciding that I was not crazy for my dissatisfaction, I said that I wasn't. I told her that I work outside all day every day, that my contacts often get blurry and move off of my pupils, wear out quickly, and that I sometimes have seasonal allergies. I also mentioned that I could pretty much always feel the contact in my eye at least a little bit, which shouldn't be the case. I told her that I felt like my prescription strength needed boosted as well (meaning I needed stronger lenses because my vision has deteriorated...again).

She was so nice and did lots of extra tests and looking at my eyes. She even flipped up my eyelids and looked at those. No doctor, in the 15 years that I've been seeing an optometrist, has ever looked under my eyelids. She also told me that I was a great patient for giving her all of that information. I always give my doctors lots of information and usually feel like I'm being annoying, so that made me feel validated.

It turns out that I did in fact need a stronger prescription. In addition, the underside of my eyelids essentially look like eyelid gravel, instead of the smooth texure they are supposed to be. She thinks that my eyes may be slightly allergic to the lenses, they aren't quite fitting correctly and that my allergies and outdoorsyness are too much for my contact solution to handle.

She gave me a new fancy lens case with hydrogen peroxide lens cleaner, a prescription for allergy eyedrops to use twice a day, and a new type of lenses too. She was awesome and nice and I really felt taken care of. I can't say that I'm surprised that my eyes are faulty and finicky like the rest of my body. That is sort of how it goes for me. At least they are pretty though, right?

Celebrating Two Years

As I mentioned in my last post, Sunday was our second wedding anniversary. We originally had plans to do something spectacular, like whale-watching, but we ended up being a bit poor for such an extravagant venture. We ended up having a spectacularly adventurous day regardless.*

*All photos taken with our single-use, waterproof, disposable camera--old school style


We started our morning by strolling along down the aisles of the Ballard Street market. We bought two awesome things: cheese and flowers. Actually, rewind, let me back up. We really began our morning by stopping at the grocery store to get some cash, where Ricky found $20 in the cash return slot. Epic score. So, after that, nothing could damper our spirits. So a lady at the market made a bouquet of dahlias and snapdragons especially for me and I paid for that and the cheese with our free $20 and still had leftovers.

After enjoying the bustling market we headed home, changed into swimsuits and shorts and left again. We had intended to grab a spot of lunch at our favorite sandwich shop Paseo but remembered that it was closed on Sundays. Instead we ate at another awesome eatery in Ballard, La Isla. La Isla is a Puerto Rican restaurant and it is delicious. We split two empanadias and a pernil bowl with tostones (ie--giant fried wantons stuffed with garlicy potatoes and cheese, a pulled pork bowl with rice, and delicious fried plantains).

After stuffing ourselves silly we headed down the road to the day's main event, paddle-boarding! Months previously we had secured living social deals to Surf Ballard for two hours of stand-up paddle board rentals. We had saved them for our anniversary and, luckily for us, the weather was ideal for it. We paddled all the way to the lighthouse at the park where I work and back. Neither of us fell the entire time either (even though Ricky fake fell at the end just to make me laugh).

We did both manage to get pooped on by seagulls at separate times. I think that means that we are lucky, even though it sure didn't feel very lucky at the time. We saw five Fried Egg Jellyfish in the water, a few schools of tiny fish, one Great Blue Heron, tons of Bull Kelp and a frillion boats. The views of the Olympics and Rainier were sublime and we could not have asked for better conditions.

After paddle-boarding we went home, showered, put on our third outfits of the day and went to dinner. We had Indian food at Taste of India. They are super awesome, never let our water glasses get below two inches from the top of the glass and give us free appetizers and dessert. We love it there.

After dinner we saw the movie Brave at the Majestic Bay Theater. Disney-Pixar has put some great things out the past few years and this one didn't disappoint. What's not to like about Irish accents, castles, people turning into bears, magic, archery and a strong female lead? Nothing, that's what.

Post movie we went to our favorite Seattle food spot, Molly Moons Ice Cream. We split a banana split (chuckle) and ate it at a nearby overlook point. The vista before us as we ate was of a warm sunset over Puget Sound and the Olympic Mountain Range. The boats that remained on the water were lit up and sparkling and the city was at it's usual nightly glow.

When we finally came home for the night Ricky told me that our day had been the most fun he had had during his whole time in graduate school. That compliment was even better than the other gifts he had given me that day. Excuse the gush, but I am so lucky to have such a sweet, kind, generous, brilliant, and loving husband. We are exceedingly happy together, almost to the point of being unrealistic. Year #2 of marriage brought us some hurtles and challenges, namely graduate school and the big move to Seattle, but we made it. I would be so bold as to say that we grew leaps and bounds this year as individuals and as a couple. I am so excited to see what married year #3 has in store for us!

Memories: Our First Anniversary

On this August the 4th, 2012, the eve of our second wedding anniversary I am thinking about how lovely our first anniversary was. I spent much of today reminiscing about that day one year ago when I realized that I have never properly documented it. I'm not planning on losing my memory any time soon, but you never know, right? What was that movie with Rachel McAdams where she got in a car crash and didn't remember her own husband? Anyway, it could happen.

We don't have any photos from our first anniversary because we didn't bother to check if the camera was charged or not before we left the house. I will just have to do my best to write 1,000 words about it that are worth a picture.

August 5th, 2011


We hopped in the car (our old Volvo, Dina R.I.P) around 9am and headed for the coast. The day was picturesque, sunny with a slight breeze and a few of those cotton-ball clouds. We listened to music in the car and sang loudly to the Moulin Rouge soundtrack and later listened to some Harry Potter on audiobook (thank goodness for Jim Dale). When we arrived in Florence we headed North up the coast for another 20 minutes until we arrived at our destination. I stepped out of the car and onto a grassy slope, feet away from some gorgeous chestnut horses. We meandered up the pathway to the small building where we were to sign in. After reading the rulebook and signing our lives away we were each introduced to our companions for the day; mine was named Alan. Alan was tall, dark ad handsome, just like my husband.


I was so proud of Ricky. After being kicked by a cow as a child, Ricky has always been a bit wary around hooved beasts. Like the brave man that he is, he climbed up into the saddle anyways and gave me a strained grin. I laughed, feeling comfortable and excited. We rode our horses one by one across the road, through a meadow, then a forest, up some sand dunes and finally onto a wide expanse of beach. Our guide said that we were free to go at our own pace (which turned out to really just be whatever pace our horses decided to go) and that she would signal when we should turn around. We mostly walked our horses but couldn't resist a good trot every few minutes. Alan let me steer him into the water a little bit, which I got a big kick out of. Ricky and I were able to keep our horses next to each other most of the time. He relaxed a lot and ended up really enjoying the ride. Does it get more romantic than horseback riding on the beach? I don't think so.


After the ride we ate at our favorite little restaurant in Florence, Resto Bar. We had pastas and bread and cheeses and sliced prociutto, salami, and pesto. After sufficiently stuffing ourselves we walked down onto the beach. Ricky surprised me by presenting me with a lovely necklace with a tree on it. It is delicate and simple and I wear it nearly everyday now. We sat on a log and watched the sun make it's way toward the horizon and, when we were ready, made the journey home. 


We ended the night with delicious cake from none other than Sweet Life Patisserie. The day was absolutely wonderful--one I will not forget, even without photos.


That wasn't 1,000 words, it was only about 500. That's just an indicator of how great of a day it was; it was so obviously awesome that I was able to get my point across in half the time. I began writing this post on August 4th, now it is officially our anniversary. I'm looking forward to a very Seattle anniversary when I wake in the morning. Hoorah for two whole years!

Age is Just a Number

As I've grown older and wiser and rounder I've realized that a person's age doesn't really matter very much. We had a surprise overnight visit from some of our very best good friends last night. These particular friends are at least four, maybe five or six years older than us (I can't remember because age doesn't matter, which is why I'm writing this post). We have several other friends who are also multiple years older than we are, in fact, nearly every friend Ricky and I have made since graduating from high school has been older than we are. Are we just that mature that we couldn't possibly make friends our own age? I like to think we are fairly mature for our age but I don't think that's the reason our friends our older.

My hypothesis is this, once you reach a certain age (I think somewhere around 17-18) you stop making friends with the people your age and start making friends with the people that are in a similar stage of life to yours. Young single adults tend to group together in their dating frenzies, newly married couples without kids like to hang out together, new parents cling to one another for support and advice, and so on and so forth. Ricky and I tied the knot at a pretty young age, relative to national standards, so as 21 year-olds, we began making friends with other people who were fairly newly married, they just so happened to be a few years older. It turns out our age differences are nearly never noticed, with the exception being the occasional missed pop-culture reference.

I also have a sub-hypothesis (if that is really a thing) with regards to life experience. I firmly believe that the various life experiences that each of us undergoes help to shape our future decisions, including who to choose as our friends. These days I find myself building friendships with people that have been through family crises or that have had some rough periods of life that they've worked through. I relate to these people more easily and feel that they have a deeper wealth of experiences that have brought them to where they are. For example, I married a man whose childhood (by no fault of his own) included some really rough times. I find him attractive in part because of his perseverence and his ability to choose a different and better life for himself. If I were still in that awful world of dating, I don't think I would ever find myself with someone whose life had been easy, peachy keen and squeaky clean. Where's the depth? Where's the proof that they can rise above and overcome a trial?

What I am trying to say is that I love my friends and I am glad that they don't seem to care that Ricky and I are by far the babies of our friend group. When all is said and done, age is just a number--it is who we choose to be, what road we choose to travel, and what leg of the journey we are on that help us select the best people to surround ourselves with.