Edgy Mama

I’ve sucked at blogging lately. I have tons of excuses: it’s the last week of school; I’ve been writing a cover story for Mt. X that sucking all my brain power; home construction decisions are taking over my life and lots of my precious time, etc., etc. Not that you want to hear it.

In case you’re bored, here are a few more construction shots–from last week. We’re much further along this week. My builders, Rare Earth Builders, rock.

This made me nervous.

  Some of this rock will become a retaining wall around my addition.

I love rock yards.

  Roof trusses are cool.

This is called a smoke duct test. They tape up all your registers, hook up a duct to your intake system and blow smoke through it to see where your ducts are leaking. Even cooler than roof tresses.

This week I try to handle some sensitive reproductive questions from the kidlings in my column.

How have you handled these types of questions?

It’s good to know that judges in Texas are reading my Edgy Mama column in Mountain Xpress.

OK, maybe they’re not reading my column specifically, but can I say that my mind works like that of a sharp-honed-edge Texas court of appeals? Wait, do I really want to make that comparision? Yes, in this situation, I think I do.

Yesterday, a three-judge panel in Texas ruled that child state-protection agencies lacked the evidence necessary to forcibly remove all of the children at the Yearning from Zion Ranch from their families.

Let’s look at some of what I wrote in my column about this situation two weeks ago. Here I’m addressing the state of Texas child protective services:

“But, why exactly did you take all of the girls, from nursing babies and toddlers to teenagers, away from their families? And why did you insist on removing all the male children as well? The argument that the boys are being groomed as perpetrators holds a tiny bit of water, but not for the young ones. I can’t even groom my 6-year-old to wipe his mouth with a napkin.”

Here’s what the court of appeals judges wrote yesterday:

“Even if one views the FLDS belief system as creating a danger of sexual abuse by grooming boys to be perpetrators of sexual abuse and raising girls to be victims of sexual abuse. . . there is no evidence that this danger is ‘immediate’ or ‘urgent’ . . . with respect to every child in the community.”

More from my column:

“Despite protests from the parents, many of whom say they are not engaged in polygamous or underage marital practices, every child who formerly lived on this ranch has been ripped away from home and put into foster care…So, why aren’t government officials looking at this situation on a case-by-case basis? Supposedly, more than 130 women, some of them mothers, voluntarily left the ranch when offered the opportunity. Why can’t these women have their kids back?”

From the court of appeals:

“There is no evidence that [the mothers] have allowed or are going to allow any of their minor female children to be subjected to any sexual or physical abuse. There is simply no evidence specific to [the mothers’] children at all except that they exist, they were taken into custody at the Yearning For Zion ranch, and they are living with people who share a ‘pervasive belief system’ that condones underage marriage and underage pregnancy.”

Again, I believe that the state should act to remove abused children from their abusers, if they have evidence of abuse. I also hate the idea of girls being directed to marry and marry young.

But, as a mother, I mostly hate the idea of loved, well-cared-for children being forcibly taken from their families because of the whiff of wrong-doing by a few men associated with the group. As I said in my column, punish the offenders, not the innocent.

Yesterday I spent $3 in gas driving down to South Asheville to visit a “bathroom” showroom. Yes, it’s a paradox. Because you don’t expect to walk into a huge warehouse space only to be confronted by the receptacles of your most private moments in life.

But I needed to buy a bathtub and a shower system.

I hate showrooms. I feel incredibly unhip in showrooms. And I felt even less hip because I wanted to buy a simple, white bathtub, even though there is no such item made anymore. There are like 50 options for a myriad of tubs in 40 different colors. Turns out the Lightening Gray tub is a popular color. I kid you not. Do they use the word “lightening” because it feels like there’s a storm in your bathtub? Or because bathtubs are already lightening rods and if yours is gray, you’re even more likely to be electrified while soaping your armpits?

Just give a white tub, please. I need a tub with one side, because the other three will be enclosed by walls, so then I had to decide on the side paneling. Since when do tubs have side paneling? What’s wrong with smooth, easy-to-wipe-down acrylic siding? Who needs panels on the side of the tub? But there are all shapes and sizes of decorative tub side paneling. I went with the simplest paneling possible on my white one-sided acrylic tub, which I had to search for in the catalog (there wasn’t anything so basic on the showroom floor–only copper cauldron type tubs which made me think of Roman gladiators for some reason. Or maybe they made me think of Roman orgies).

Then there’s jets. Everybody wants jets. I don’t. I don’t want to pay for the extra electrical work or electricity. Plus I hear jets are a cleaning nightmare and harbor all kind of nasty (fecal) bacteria in their housings. It turns out what I want is called a soaking tub. Simple, white, with a couple indentations on the edges so the soap’s not always sliding into the water. That’s it. Ordered. Finally.

But no, then we had to talk spouts and shower systems and valves and drains. OMG, who knew ordering a basic bathtub was so complex?

I wanted the lowest flow shower head available (yes, granola me). I want to conserve water, although it seems I was the only person in the showroom who did. While everyone else was buying humongous rainforest shower heads with multiple wall jets, all in polished bronze and matching shades of lightening gray, I was trying to find a 1.6 gallon per minute low-flow shower head. Which I did, and the only coating option is chrome, because well, polished bronze and low-flow just don’t mesh. Which is fine. Most people are happy with chrome fixtures. Hell, most people are happy with plumbing that works most of the time.

Finally, after an hour of catalogues and discussion of systems and shower trim (can I just tell you that the trim, i.e., the piece of metal that you use to turn the water on and off, costs almost as much as the entire bathtub), I was released from the intimidating showroom, and late for lunch.

Tomorrow my simple white no-jet soaking tub and my low-flow shower system and my very expensive trim pieces (not that kind of trim, you dirty-minded scum) will be delivered.

Next I need to pick out doors, tile, and rock for the retaining wall. I think I’ll like choosing rock. Surely that can’t be too complex. Or can it?

A version of this “how crunchy a mom are you” quiz has made the rounds of the mommy blogs. This is my version.

Tell me how granola are you?

I know you’re all waiting for a construction update. Because while people are dying in China and Burma, we’re adding 600 square feet to our house.

I’m feeling a bit weary of world pain and suffering today.

Although in world happy news, I’m thrilled that my man John Edwards endorsed Obama. I had hoped for an Edwards/Obama race for the White House. Now I’m hoping for a reverse candidacy–same guys, different positions.

Pouring the concrete for the slab/flooring was rather intense. The guys were moving intently. I guess concrete requires both speed and focus. And now we have a floor!

This is what’s under the concrete. The tubing is the radiant heating system. I have no idea how the tubing doesn’t get smushed under the weight of the concrete, but it doesn’t (supposedly). We already have solar hot water and back-up heat, so this adds to our existing system. Although we must add two more solar panels, turning our roof into one huge sun collector. I’m shocked at how many folks look at our roof and say, “Wow, are those sky lights?”

This is my poor, tromped upon front flower bed, which despite the odds, is producing blooms. Luckily, what’s under the dirt pile are perennials, so I’m hoping they’ll return next year.

This week the guys are framing, so I’ll have actual wall shots soon!

My girl read about Chinese astrology at school the other day.

“Did you know I’m a tiger, Mom?” she said.

“I did. That’s an appropriate animal for you,” I replied.

My boy asked which “animal” he’s represented by in the Chinese zodiac.

“You’re the year of the snake,” I said, because for some reason I retain arcane knowledge like this about stuff that has no true meaning for my daily existence.

“What are you and Dad?” he asked.

“I’m a dragon, and I think your Dad’s a sheep,” I said.

There was a silence, then the boy said: “So you, me and sister could eat Daddy.”

I’m sure the poor guy feels like he’s being gnawed on sometimes.

My column for Mountain Xpress this week examines the stresses of end-of-grade testing. Fun!

My new priority list is as follows: family first, friends second, work third, home construction fourth, exercise sixth, bloggie seventh, everything else eighth.

So the blog has been pushed down the priority list by home construction and exercise. Because, OMG, I’ll be at the beach in three weeks.

So, for the next three weeks I’ll be upping the workouts and taking on Dr. Manny Alvarez’ Hot Latin Diet: the Fast-Track Plan to a Bombshell Body.

When Manny’s publicist e-mailed to ask if I wanted an ARC of the book, I said, “Well, who doesn’t want a bombshell body? Send it to me, baby.”

I’m perusing the book, though I have yet to commit to Manny’s suggested pantry restocking.

The book’s full of good nutritional and exercise advice, but the primary thing that differentiates it, as far as I can tell, from other diet plans, is the identification of the seven Latin power foods. These are tomatillos, garbanzo beans, avocado, garlic, cinnamon, chiles, and cilantro.

I love Latin food, and I already eat quite a bit of these power foods–but usually accompanied by cheese and tortilla chips. Of course, the seven power foods aren’t the only foods you’re supposed to eat on this diet, but if you concentrate on the food groups that these foods fall into, and try to ignore the chips and dairy accoutrements, you’ll probably drop some fatty deposits.

Cervaza, sadly, is not a Latin power food.

Dr. Manny mostly writes aboutcutting out processed and fast foods, which I rarely eat anyway, and making lifestyle changes that I’ve already made, so this book is not particularly helpful for me. But there are some good recipes that I’d love to try, such as  ginger-spiced chicken with some vegetable I’ve never heard of and pan-seared red snapper with grapefruit-avocado salsa. Yum!
Focusing on Latin power foods while avoiding the sour cream might help me lose a few pounds, but, in truth, it’s nearly impossible for me to develop a hot Latin bombshell body.  One, I’m too old now for  bombshell. Bombshells typically haven’t birthed and nursed two kids and dealt with forty-four years of gravity. Two, my gene pool springs from tallish pasty Northern Europeans. I could do lunges for two hours a day and only eat garbanzo beans, and my heinie still wouldn’t resemble J. Lo’s.

In my experience, Latin women are sexy because they think they’re sexy, not because their bodies are perfect. In fact, a bit of extra chub lends to more curves and thus, more bombshell. They do seem healthy though. Which is what we all really want. I just want 8 less pounds healthy. And a lot of spicy. Which is why Dr. Manny’s plan might help me out.

I’m getting some heated comments over at Mountain Xpress over my belief that children, even those who live in a religious sect, shouldn’t be separated from their families unless there’s clear evidence of abuse. I totally understand Child Protective Services’ take on this issue–and yet, I’m a mother. Just try to take my kids away from me. As one of my girlfriends said last weekend, “Mess with my kids, and I might bite you on the neck.”

She said that because we were talking about what breed of dog we’d be–if we were dogs–and I described myself as a German Shepherd–disciplined, protective, but affectionate. The same girlfriend told me that there are on-line tests to determine what breed of dog you are (I should’ve known). I took three different tests and was identified with three different breeds: Border Collie, Labrador, and, yes, German Shepherd. The one similar characteristic of the three breeds is that they all need lots of exercise. That’s me for sure. Exercise is as much mental as physical health for moi.

My home construction has resumed, after a two and 1/2 day city-forced hiatus. At the moment, it’s all very dull stuff–lots of digging, spreading gravel, and roughing-out pipes. But we may be pouring concrete on Monday. I still have a child-like fascination with those huge concrete mixer trucks. A truck with a huge rotating barrel on the back must be one of the brilliant inventions of the 20th century. I can’t wait to photograph the big pour!

Unless you live in an underground bunker, you know that North Carolina held a primary yesterday. I canvassed some at one of the precincts for my friend, Holly Jones, who is running for Buncombe County Commissioner. She rocked the primary. Hurrah!

I also ended up at the HUGE Obama party at Asheville Brewing Company (see some of my photos here). Wow! I had no idea the local Obama contingent are so organized. And so much fun! I even had a Republican tell me that he might vote for Obama because all the man’s supporters are just so nice and non-aggressive. Wow.