Fronteir Woman, I Am Not

I like to be outdoors, and spend my summer on Lake Winnipesaukee, the largest of the New Hampshire lakes. I would not call myself “outdoorsy” but I am really enjoying nature this year. 

Almost daily I sit on the beach, getting vitamin D from the sun, listening to the waves crash, and swimming. I have seen several types of fish, including the odd looking catfish, and today I saw a fish jumping in and out of the water near where I was floating on my inner tube. 2 damselflies have taken to landing on me and spending time with me whenever I am in the water. Today 2 different kinds of dragonflies joined them. I call the damselflies my pals. Last week, while Eddie and I were in the water, I was telling him about my pals when a dragonfly the size of my son’s remote control helicopter dive bombed my head. “I don’t want to be your froend” I exclaimed. “Holy shit, that was the size of a bird” was Eddie’s reply. I decided to get to know my dragonflies. My pals are blue damselflies and they are probably laying their eggs on me so I can get them in the water for them where they will grow in the sand at the bottom of the lake. The blackhawk that nearly took me out is a dragon hunter! These feed on damsel and dragonflies! Although I am usually icked out by bugs, I enjoy the dragonflies that have decided to hang out on me. 

I have also seen a bald eagle several times, which to be honest, feels like an honor. He is majestic and regal, soaring over the lake, hiding in the palm trees and diving into the lake. One day I saw a small bird fiercely chase him out of her tree. I can only assume she was a mama protecting her babies. 

I have seen two kinds of ducks, and our lone seagull friend, Jomathan Livingston Seagull. Nearby, there are turkeys and deer. I have not yet seen the bear that sometimes wanders our campground at night, nor have I seen moose in this area. A fox crossed in front of my car recently though, and we have the usual chipmunks, red squirrels and squirrels. 

I am really beginning to enjoy all the flora and fauna of the lake. Particularly, my personal favorite, the loon. Her beautiful night song is like a siren’s call. You can watch loon activity and learn more about loons at loon.org. They are truly special birds. 

Walking daily around the area, swimming daily, floating blissfully in the lake and sitting on our quiet beach has both spoiled me and taught me to appreciate nature. But I still like to curl up in the cabin with a good book and air conditioning. I would not say I am outdoorsy...yet. 

Commercial Break: Monat with Lisa

My friend Lisa was the BEST French-Braider on the bus. On our way to marching band competitions we would line up for her and her sister, awaiting their magic. Those braids, some bobby pins and Aqua Net and our hair was not moving until our next shower. 

Fast forward twenty-something years and Lisa is now an independent market partner with Monat. Monat makes naturally based, leaping bunny approved, anti-aging hair care. It is truly amazing and I highly recommend you check out her web page www.lisasands.mymonat.com. You can also email her at lisasands20022@hotmail.com. Enjoy!

⭐️⭐️⭐️⭐️⭐️

Burning Bras

I hate bras. There, I said it. I will scream it from the rooftops, I HATE BRAS! I find them to be uncomfortable, sweaty, pinching, puckering, ill-fitting, tight, elastic, wiry, mean sons-of-bitches. Yes, I have been properly measured and fitted. Yes, I have tried myriad styles and brands. No, I do not have one I love. I don’t even have one I like. They are overpriced, lacking in quality, promise-breakers (i.e. this one is invisible under t-shirts) and I despise them. 

I saw a meme recently that said bras should be free because there are plenty of people that would be happy to hold my boobs up for me. Yes! Whether for ascthetics, fashion, modesty, or cleavage, the bra has become an expected necessity for women everywhere. 

In 1968, women protested the Miss America pageant by burning various women’s items, including bras. “Hippies” stopped wearing bras. But, in the end, bras won. They always come out on top. 

It is easier for some women to shed their bras than others. Big boobs probably need bras to literally help the women who carry them all day support their backs. Smaller, perkier boobs can often go without. But then there is the issue of the nipple. 

Sometimes, in cold air, the nipple will protrude right through a bra. But most of the time, the bra hides the point. I don’t honestly think the protrusion is a big deal (avert your eyes men, my eyes are up here) but I work in a middle school and I don’t want teaching boys to control where they look to be part of my (or any of the young, cute teachers’) job description. I mean I do want to teach everyone about consent, respect and self-control, I just don’t want to use me as a model. 

It is not a woman’s job to dress in such a way to assist men with their manners, thoughts and physical (both verbal and bodily) control. And yet, the earliest boob shaper/supporters  date back to ancient Greece! Control yourselves, dudes. It is just fat and glands. Some of you even have your own. Why the fascination?

Be it for fashion, trending body expectations, or support, I feel strongly that someone should have invented something more comfortable, easier to fasten, less heat-holding, and cuter, in all sizes. 

I grew up with a mom who wore something like a 38DD and had to buy a specific bathing suit brand with her cup size built in. She eventually had reduction surgey as those knockers did a number on her back and small frame. She was ecstatic when she healed. She was a happy, lighter 36C. After that she wanted to walk up to large breasted women everywhere and hand them her plastic surgeon’s business card. She was a new woman. 

I did not initially inherit her curves. In high school I was a 36B. In college, after going on the pill, I went up to a C. I gained some weight and wore a D. Lost some weight and went back to a C. Got pregnant and woke up one morning a DD. Nursed my babies, lost the baby weight but remined a D. Gained a lot of weight and morohed into a 42C where I now  reside. But I am bigger, and curvier and bras feel uncomfortable and restricting and so dang hot! When I was a perky B, I could go without. Even at my current size, don’t be haters ladies, I am blessed with minimal sag. 

One of my goals this summer is to wear a bra as little as possible. Often, I am in my bathing suit. Sometimes when I go out I layer tank tops. At home, no bra. I recently bought two, front-zip sports bras (thanks, Fila). These are easy to put on and comfortable. You might say I am an overachiever. I am really kicking this goal’s ass!

All this being said, I know when summer is over and I am back to work, I will return to the land of over-the-shoulder-boulder-holders. Unless someone can invent something newer and more comfortable by Labor Day, I will succumb to the cultural and fashion expectations that surround me. But, if anyone wants to join me in a bra burning movement, I am open to that too!

QOTD

“We’re all stories in the end, so make it a good one”.

Unknown

Bad Country Song #1

A famous author once told me that his poetry sucked so he wrote short stories and when those were awful he began writing novels. Now he is an award winning, NY Times Bestselling author. Thus, I now subject you to my bad poetry. This is labeled #1 because there is more to come. Consider yourselves warned. 

Bad Country Song #1

Last First Kiss

(She)

I didn’t know it was my last one

It wouldn’t matter if I had

I saw you strummin’ guitar

In that old bar

Right away I had it bad

(He)

You didn’t know I saw you from on stage

When you walked in the side door

Beautiful long brown hair and

the greenest eyes, 

Boots crossin’ the dance floor

(She)

I saw you there and I stared

Started dancing

Hoping you, saw me too 

Heart was racing

(Chorus)

I didn’t know it then

This was the very night

It would be my last first kiss

It just felt so right

I wouldn’t change a thing

That kiss was perfect 

I don’t need any other lips

Be my last first kiss

My last first kiss

My last first kiss

(He)

Couldn’t take my eyes off you

Then our eyes met

Hoping that you feel it too

Feel those sparks yet?

(She)

When you met me at the bar

Bought me that first drink

Time just froze right there

I felt our hearts link

(He)

When we kissed by your car

I knew right away

You’d have me on one knee

And I’d never stray

(Chorus 2x)

Day of Reckoning

I feared this day for more than thirteen years. 

When I was pregnant with my second child, I wanted to know the gender. With my first I had waited until his birth, to enjoy one if the great surprises of life, but with my second I wanted to know if I needed to prepare differently. Maybe buy some pink? I was pretty convinced I was having another boy, as my pregnancy was feeling almost identical to the first. So when the ultrasound tech said, “You’re having a girl” I asked “are you sure”?

I continued to ask this question over and over during my next several appointments with the midwife and subsequent ultrasounds. I was concerned. I was nervous. Raising a girl? In this patriarchial, glass ceilinged, oppressive world? How will I teach her to protect herself? How will I teach her about violence towards women without terrifying her? What if I raise her to be a feminist but she decides to reject those ideals? How will I deal with periods and bras?

I actively raised my son to be a feminist. I have open  discussions with him, much to his chagrin, about sexuality and consent, equal rights and marginalized populations. He is my son, my eldest, and so much like me. 

My daughter, on the other hand, is my baby. My princess even though I hate Disney and how it portrays girls and women (at least until recent years). I want to protect her, and keep her innocent as long as possible.

When she was in the first grade I visited her classroom to be the mystery reader. I noticed thaf she was smaller than her peers. I noticed, as I had as her Daisy scout leader, that questions seemed to pass right over her. When other children were darting their hands into the air, eager to answer a question she sat there staring blankly. When there were opportunities to ask questions they buzzed all around her like bees, never landing on my little flower. 

At the end of the school year, after much discussion with her teacher and a meeting with the principal, we decided to hold her back to repeat first grade. She would be with a new teacher, and a whole new group of kids, and it would give her the opportunity to grow and mature. This proved to be the best decision. Later we discovered she has some learning challenges, that she has learned to compensate for and her school district has supported without special services. However, all tolled, this has made me worry in more and different directions, and the desire to protect my baby girl has deepened. 

My daughter is so smart and beautiful and kind and innocent. The other day she said, “all the girls in my grade are friends”. Really? In middle school? Is this real or her perception? 

Yesterday my baby girl turned 13. She is still small for her age (the doctor says she will catch up) and she has to work extra hard to succeed in school. She is on student council. She is active in our church youth group. She is a competitive gymnast. But she is still my baby. And still I struggle to teach her about the dangers of the world, the trials and tribulations of being a woman. It has not occurred to her that anything might be difficult or more challenging because of her gender. She had no idea what I was talking about several months ago when I asked her about the things people tease girls about. I am not sure she has ever heard “throw like a girl” or “run like a girl” or “a girl can’t do that” in her life. 

Maybe she won’t. Maybe in her lifetime those will all disappear. Women have had enough. #metoo #girlboss #noh8 have paved new roads. My daughter is growing up in a time with zero tolerance for bullying and sexual harrasment.  In a time where there are finally consequences for boys being boys. 

And still I worry. 7th grade begins in two months. 7th grade is the worst. Academically challenging and socially awkward. Mean girls. Bullies. Boys and girls behaving badly. All are on the horizon. 

I will continue to teach her to be like a pineapple. Stand tall, be tough on the outside and sweet on the inside. Don’t be a princess but Do wear a crown. Be a badass. Be kind. Have boundaries. Stay true to yourself. And always  be my baby.