#WeAreNotThis

In case you missed it, the Pope is on Instagram now. Pretty sure he's just copying my favorite @circuspadre, but it works. Today, for Good Friday, he posted a photo from outside the Colosseum in Rome with this caption: "Everything in these three days speaks of mercy."

If only the North Carolina General Assembly would speak with mercy this week.

Instead, their legislative voice spoke only of fear and discrimination as they went into special session on Wednesday and voted to (among other things) prohibit cities from passing nondiscrimination laws, exclude groups of citizens from protection against discrimination in North Carolina and ban transgendered people from using public bathrooms that correspond to their gender identity.

As I binged through Twitter and Facebook yesterday (see #WeAreNotThis), searching for some reasonable answer as to why my state legislature has its head up its collective ass, I found nothing to help -- although this clip from John Oliver at least made me feel less alone. Then I saw a post from my friend Mamie, who happens to be a Presbyterian minister and a generally fabulous person. Although she no longer lives in North Carolina, she's still very much a Tar Heel -- and she's still fighting for those of us who are here.

With her permission, I'm sharing her post with you here. It's a letter she's sending to the CEOs and consumer affairs divisions of NC-based companies who have not yet spoken out publicly against the ridiculous discriminatory laws passed this week.

***

As a Tarheel born and bred, I have been horrified to see the changes happening in my home state. Living now, as I do, away from North Carolina, I see the pity and concern people have for those who are “unfortunate” enough to live in a state wracked by hate and discrimination, evidenced publicly by the repugnant actions taken by the current legislature. Any doubt remaining as to their oppressive intentions were put to rest yesterday when House Bill 2 passed into law with the signature of Gov. McCrory. The law goes well beyond its name and supposed intent to monitor bathrooms around the state. It takes away local protections for LGBTQ citizens, veterans and pregnant women as well as flaunts the desire of our forebears to be free of discrimination because of religion.

You have no doubt seen the threat that Walt Disney Studios has made to leave the state of Georgia if it passes a bill not unlike HB 2, and my neighboring state of Indiana lost 12 conventions and $60 million dollars after passing their “Religious Freedom Restoration Act” -- a law much closer to that just passed by North Carolina than its name would imply. The economic growth and prosperity of the state is now under threat, as is the reputation of any company who chooses North Carolina as its home. Red Hat CEO and President Jim Whitehurst, Biogen and Dow Public Policy all spoke out against this bill on the day it was hastily introduced. American Airlines, Wells Fargo and even the NCAA are concerned about this legalized discrimination. You can join their chorus in continued pressure to change the law so that equality and fairness are not undermined in North Carolina.

You are a leader in industry in the state, and as such, I urge you to speak out in favor of diversity and justice and against the codification of fear and weakness. Being based in North Carolina, your name and balance sheet are also on the line, and any silence you choose will speak. Your ability to attract a full-range of highly qualified, critical thinking, flexible and compassionate work force will be damaged by this law, and no tax breaks are worth diminishing the humanity of others. Please make the weight of your voice heard by the legislators and the people of North Carolina.

***

Everything in these three days speaks of mercy.

Todo, en estos tres días, habla de la misericordia. 

Tutto, in questi tre giorni, parla di misericordia.

Tudo, nestes três dias, fala de misericórdia.

Au cours de ces trois jours, tout parle de miséricorde.

To the Mom with the Screamer -- Oh, That's Me

Here's the post I wrote earlier today:

Dear Mom from this afternoon --

You were sitting in the lobby area before dance class with your screaming, crying, wailing daughter clinging to your lap, her face the color of rage. I was running late, so I missed seeing whatever brought on the trauma -- but it sounded like maybe it had something to do with her leggings.

I just wanted to tell you... what, I don't even know. But somehow I wanted to wave a magic wand and make it all stop. 

Not because she was bothering me, which she wasn't. Simply because I felt so terrible for you -- both of you -- that your Wednesday afternoon was melting down into madness.

I know that moment. The one where you're silently wrestling over the lesser of two evils: a) standing strong in the face of the fit because dammit you PAID for these dance classes and they ARE fun and she WILL go to class and enjoy it or b) tucking her under your arm and taking her fit-throwing self home because you're both just too exhausted to do anything else.

After more than six years of parenting, I'm no closer to knowing the right answer to that debate.

All I really want you to know is that I'm not judging you, that I stand in solidarity with you and that I hope you got a very early bedtime tonight.
Love, 
Me

* * *

But then I had one of those early evenings where everything is going along fine and then, suddenly, Pippi goes completely deaf to the particular pitch of my voice and she ignores every single thing I'm saying to her and loses one of her brand new gloves on the walk home and just grins while I dissolve into fist-clenching frustration.

So she ended up back in this familiar spot while I had a glass of wine and put the pizza in the oven.

And by the time I'm finally back at my computer to finish up this afternoon's post, all I can think is who the hell am I to be offering magic wand wishes to another mom?

Here's hoping that all of us have smoother days tomorrow.
.

If Only They Would Listen to My Wisdom

Following the wild success of my open letter to a tree (and a big thanks to my friends who commented on 30Threads, defending me against "Lance"), I was considering going to an all-open-letter blog format. Then I realized that had already been done -- and I'm not going to try to compete with Sarah Vowell and John Hodgman. But so many little annoying things happened while I was running errands on Monday that I feel compelled to employ the device a few more times, so here goes.

* * *

Dear Woman in the Parking Lot at Bed, Bath & Beyond,

I will try not to judge you and your passenger for parking in a handicapped space, then walking easily into the Party City store. It's entirely possible that, although you are both ambulatory, one or both of you has a less visible illness that makes walking difficult over certain distances. Your passenger's very short hair suggested she may be recovering from treatment, so it's easy to give you the benefit of the doubt.

However, it's harder for me to be sympathetic when you're smoking a cigarette while wearing a cancer survivor t-shirt from Relay for Life. Perhaps you've missed the whole surgeon general thing for the past 40 years, but it seems like now would be a good time to quit with the cancer sticks.

Best wishes for continued health,
C

* * *

Dear Mom of One at Harris Teeter,

Congratulations on having such a well-behaved toddler at the grocery store. And congrats for your new one on the way -- what an exciting time for you!

One of the things you'll learn after you have two children on the outside of you is the critical nature of the double-seated grocery cart. It is difficult to corral two children in the grocery store unless you can buckle them in and keep them entertained (thus protecting all those products on bottom shelves cleverly covered in Pixar characters). That's precisely the beauty of those rocket-ship-race-car carts -- both kids fit and each one gets a steering wheel.

So given that Harris Teeter has a VERY limited number of these carts (like, two) and given that you still only have one child who can actually access said cart, please be considerate and leave them for people with two children. We desperately need them.

Thanks,
C (the mom who was giving you the stink eye while her son pushed one of those customer-in-training carts running into shelves and customers all over the store)

* * *

Dear Woman in the Parking Lot at Harris Teeter,

I'm so glad you were driving slow enough and watching closely enough to see the elderly man backing his land yacht out in front of you. That's a tricky parking lot, so I commend your attention to safety.

I also think you were right to toot your horn to alert him that you were coming, in hopes that he would stop and let you pass before continuing his slow and steady move into traffic.

However, continuously holding your hand on the horn for the duration of his very slow and steady move into traffic when he clearly was not intimidated by (or perhaps could not hear) your honking and when he was posing no great threat to your vehicle or other drivers and when my small children were stuck beside your bleating car waiting for me to unload my groceries into the trunk was truly excessive. Please go home and take a nap (or a valium).

Kindest regards,
C

* * *

Phew. Don't know about you, but I feel so much better now. And I promise to leave the open letter mechanism alone for awhile.

My Most Famous Post

Congratulations to all (seven) of you for reading this blog! You'll be able to say you knew me way back when.

Turns out, I am a totally famous blogger now. Over the weekend, my post on Triangle Mamas got picked up by 30 Threads, a site that highlights Triangle blogs and media.

In case you haven't clicked over to Triangle Mamas in awhile, you should go now and read my open letter to a tree (the post linked as #5 on 30 Threads), as well as posts from other area moms. And I should clarify that I am a) not opposed to trees in general, b) not suggesting they cut down the fully-grown trees that provide a tiny bit of shade at the amphitheater and c) not going to take a preschooler to a show two hours early just to stake out a good spot.

While you read, I'll be sitting at home waiting for all the mommy-blog marketers to start contacting me. Just hope it's someone other than tree removal and landscaping services.