Jami Supports Shoplifters

Why is shoplifting even prosecuted? People are going to do it regardless, right?  Having a law against it all these years certainly hasn’t stopped it.  Many people who shoplift are good people, taking stuff their family wants or needs or shoplifting things they can sell to make money for their families.  It’s a tough economy; shouldn’t they be allowed to do whatever they need to for the sake of their family?  And really, most shoplifters steal from large, faceless, greedy corporations, anyway.  I mean, we all hate WalMart, right, so what’s wrong with taking a few things here and there to help the truly needy when only WalMart suffers?  They make so much, it shouldn’t matter.

And you know, lots of people who shoplift are women.  So supporting this law against shoplifting is sort of sexist.  I mean, men in need of money are more likely to rob a person or commit a violent crime, but shoplifting is more women.  So to say that it’s illegal, well, that’s like saying women shouldn’t have the same opportunity to commit theft as men do. 

We shouldn’t even call it shoplifting, because that has a pretty negative connotation.  If I call you a shoplifter, you might feel bad about it. And what about the people who do it because they have a compulsion to steal?  It’s not their fault that they are shoplifting, so why do you want to make them feel bad?  We should call them “non-paying consumers”.  Then if a non-paying consumer does something illegal while consuming, then we can talk about that crime, but leave the non-paying consuming out of it. Maybe those people, the very few that do an additional crime, can have that added to their charges, but not the good people who just take what they need or want.  It’s not hurting you, right?

I hope you think this whole thing was ridiculous.  Of course shoplifting affects us: higher prices, more security, even less trust in the world – and it doesn’t matter if you’re stealing from a big company or a small business. Breaking the law is breaking the law, regardless of your gender, race, or why you’re doing it. 

If you haven’t figured out what I’m really referring to here, let’s just say this is about all people who are doing something illegal, regardless of gender, race, religion or country of origin.  The laws we have protect and serve all who are following them, and requesting that people follow the law isn’t bigotry or mean, it’s what makes us a functioning society.  And if you get caught breaking a law, you pay the penalty.  If I speed, I pay the ticket.  If you steal, you go to jail (okay, probably not the first few times, but still).  

Illegal isn’t a slur. It’s a fact. 

Jami’s Time Crunch

I need to write.  I need to set aside time each day to sit down and empty my brain onto the computer.  No, not pen and paper, I write too slowly and too illegibly. So I need to sit and type each day. Just a half hour or so.   

I need to exercise.  Everyday, maybe take one day off a week.  Get up and move. Go to class, walk on the treadmill or outside. Do some Wii Fit.  I have slimmed down a bit, and I need to kick it up a little. 

I need to cook more.  I have a few standards I stick to.  I have to find new recipes and learn new techniques. Figure out how to make side dishes that aren’t heat’n'serve.  Prepare the meals you can freeze and have for some other time. Plan menus around the weekly ads.   

I need to spend special time with each of my children, separately each day. I need to take more pictures of them, and of our whole family.  I need to create fun activities and crafts and made-up family games.

I need to do my big projects. Reorganize the attic and the basement storage.  Sort the bags of toys I’ve put away as too young or unnecessary.  Go through the pictures, books, movies and games we have.  

I need to call my grandparents more often.  I need to send pictures to the ones who live in another state.  I need to keep my other relatives in the loop of what’s going on in our lives.

I need to get together with our friends that we don’t see as much as we used to.  Catch up, have some fun, just plain get out.

I need to learn to knit.  I need to research our investments and insurances and see if we could do better.  I need to learn Spanish and Mandarin.  I need to read more books. 

I need to find a way to do all these things without letting the things that I actually do need to do slip.  Clean. Make meals.  Pack backpacks.  Work.  Alone time with the Husband.  Put the kids to bed.  Do laundry. Pay bills.  Sleep.  Shower.  Floss.  

I need more hours in the day and more years on my life.  

Jami Worries the Hunger Games Will Taste Funny

Hello, friends. Yeah, I know – I always say “I’m going to really stick to blogging this time” and then it lasts about 3 days. Sorry. No promises. Anyway…

Just finished the Hunger Game Trilogy this morning, and despite warnings from a few people I generally trust, I enjoyed them, if such a term is appropriate to books about people fighting and dying. I find the books to be a good warning to all of us, but that’s not the reason I read them. They definitely draw you in, make you yearn to read faster so you can see how each conflict is resolved.

However, as much as I enjoyed them, I am very wary about the film versions, for a number of reasons. First, the best parts of the book, the parts that make you care about what happens to the characters, try to figure out where the story is going and think about it once you’ve closed the book – those parts are mostly internal stuff that isn’t going to translate to the big screen. One of my favorite lines in the book is when the main character speculates (internally) that another person is “obligated by law to say something horrible.” It’s in the middle of the other person’s comments and there is no way it could work on screen. It won’t be as funny and poignant. Can’t work.

Second, there are plenty of scenes that will be fabulous on the screen. The writing is visceral and you can see the camera angle that they’ll use and just imagine the colors or the costumes. BUT – the part that lends itself most easily to the movies is the violence and the excesses. Don’t get me wrong, they’re important. The books make no sense if the violence isn’t awful and heart-wrenching or if the wild luxuries don’t seem over-the-top. But it’s not what the stories are about. And it will be hard to stage vicious battles or torture scenes or someone dying without showing it being about the violence, not the meaning attached. The gorgeous costumes will mean less if you can’t hear Katniss’s thoughts while she’s twirling, or understand what the colorful wigs and tattoos are about.
Like other beloved novels set to film, this will have the people who adore it because it is story they know and are invested in. The first time I saw Twilight, I filled in the blanks from my memory, and the story was better and made more sense. When I watched it thinking of someone who hadn’t read the books, I had to admit that it wasn’t great. Or really, even good. Watching it as someone who devoured the books helped it, because I knew all those things they couldn’t put in. Hunger Games will have the same thing. I’ll know why characters act or react because I’ll hear the narration in the book in my head, but it won’t work for everyone, even if the actress narrates it in voice over – that might well be worse. Will you be able to understand from seeing Katniss’s responses that she’s not a jerk, but an ignorant teen in an untenable situation? Or will you just think “Boy, that was rude?” Can any actress, no matter how talented, portray without words all that is going on under the surface? It seems pretty unlikely.

I love movies. I love books. And I can’t be more cliche than saying that the book is always better. Well, duh. You can pack much more into a book than a movie. I haven’t seen the movie, maybe I shouldn’t judge. Yet. But the truth is, even reading this knowing that I will see it acted out in all its glory, I can tell that the movie will not be able to move me, scare me and enthrall me the way the books have. So I am not hopeful. I will probably rent the movies eventually. I hope they’ll surprise me. But I doubt it.

Jami Explains Why She Loves Superhero Toys

We have tons of toys and I am not even certain I’m exaggerating by much. A jam-packed playroom, baskets, boxes and drawers of toys on the first floor, more boxes of toys in the boys’ rooms. Lots of toys. Both of the boys, my older one especially, have been getting into superhero toys. In our case, especially the Super Hero Squad and Spider-man. I couldn’t be happier. You might wonder why, since with all the vehicles, headquarters and secret hideout toys, it might not seem as though it encourages imagination as much as if he had to fashion his own out of boxes and toilet paper tubes. I’ve heard moms talk about how superheros vs. villains can be too loud, encourage violence, introduce the idea of crime… maybe. But here’s the thing – it does introduce those ideas, but in a context I want to encourage.

Superheros are the kind of role models I want my kids to have. They stand up for the weak. They fight for what’s right, even when they are at risk. They have fantastic powers or equipment and they use it not for their own selfish gain, but for the greater good. While there is violence, the message is: sometimes you need to use violence, but you don’t start it. Superheros don’t land the first punch. They don’t bully, not even the villains. But – when the fighting starts, the superheros end it. Spider-man doesn’t stand back and let Green Goblin blow up stuff because he doesn’t want to get involved or it’s not his house being bombed. Superheros don’t (generally) kill the bad guys. It’s not okay to break the rules even if you’re the good guy. These are lessons I want my sons to learn.

Even my 2-year-old knows that some people break the rules and sometimes people aren’t nice. Playing superhero teaches him that sort of behavior has consequences. The good guys win; the bad guys go to jail. Usually at our house, the good guys have a party at one of the secret hideouts after each victory.

Often, I hear the saga in pieces as I move around the house. I get updates (“Dr. Doom stole the rocket. But Wolverine caught him and put him in jail. But he got out.”) and one thing I love about my older son is his desire for a happy ending for everyone. Because of that, we often end up with this scenario – as voiced by my son:

Spider-man: Joker,  [yes, I know they are in different universes, my kids don't] you lost the battle.  Would you like to join our Super Hero Team?

Joker:  I’m a bad guy!

Spidey: I know, but if you say you are sorry for breaking the law and promise to be good, you can be a hero, too! Then you can come to our headquarters for our party.

Joker: Yay!

Spidey: It’s more fun to be on a Super Hero Team than a bad guy alone.

Joker: It’s a deal!

Spidey: Let’s play hide’n'seek!

So maybe Joker should have a bit more of a penalty than apologizing (I have heard being sent to time-out, too), but overall, the good guys win, the bad guys learn a lesson and everyone gets to go to the party.

 

 

Jami’s Dream Bed

If you read this blog when it was on Blogger or know me in person, you know I constantly have odd but realistic dreams.  I don’t share the vast majority of them, both because they are not always interesting and also so you don’t think I need intense psychological help.

Anyway, last week I had a dream that I was going to bed.  Yes, I was already asleep and dreaming about going to sleep.  If you have young children, you understand.  In the dream, though, the bed I was getting into wasn’t my current very nice queen-size, flannel sheet covered, four poster bed, but a “Sleep Pod.”  Patent pending.

The Sleep Pod looked like a large hinged plastic Easter egg.  You lay on the bottom half, and the top half closes, but this isn’t the important part.  The bottom half is covered in the softest fleecy material you’ve ever felt.  The bed part is made out of some sort of very comfy stuff that is programmed to detect how you are sleeping and adjust the support accordingly.  The top half doesn’t touch you, but it does have a soft, fluffy blanket suspended from the “ceiling” of it.  This allows you the feeling of a blanket, but no chance of tangling or a foot accidentally coming uncovered.  Of course,  you don’t need the blanket for warmth, because it’s temperature controlled, in sections for maximum comfort.  So, warmer around the tootsies, but with a cool pillow.  When it closes, it also monitors your oxygen and humidity levels so that you are breathing safely and don’t get dry mouth.   You can choose total silence (with its sound-proofing technology, I guess), soothing sounds, or hook up your iPod for your own music.   If you set the alarm it wakes you with the gradual light increase, like this.

Now, you might think this sounds like sleeping paradise.  You are right.  It was glorious.   The reason I am blogging about it now, a week later is that every time I get up in the middle of the  night now, and something is wrong – my feet are cold, my arm is asleep, my neck isn’t comfortable, whatever – I think this wouldn’t have happened in my Sleep Pod.  I’m not trying to be funny,  my not-all-the-way-awake self is mad every night that we don’t have the Sleep Pod.  It doesn’t seem to matter that as far as I can tell, it doesn’t currently exist in the real world. I got into one, I fell asleep in one and now I’m mad it’s gone.

Upon fully awake consideration, I believe there are a couple possible cons to the whole Sleep Pod.  First, safety.  If you choose silent, what happens if there is a fire?  This could be corrected by adding a really good air filter and making it out of whatever it is black boxes are made from.   Second, it seems to be a one-person-only bed.  I love the Husband, but his idea of proper sleeping temperature and sounds are not the same as mine.  I would be very unhappy if he started messing with my perfect sleeping environment just because he thinks you can only sleep if ice is forming around your head.   I want a Sleep Pod, but I’m not willing to give up sleeping with him, even if it means being cold sometimes. Last, I already get unhappy when I wake up and have to go to the bathroom, because I don’t like getting out of my comfy, warm bed and going all the way down the hall (about 2 feet) to the bathroom.  If the bed was even better, I’d probably end up getting some Mommy-sized Pull Ups.

Jami Switches It Up

Reading a magazine the other day, I came across something along the lines of “Easy Ways to Cut Calories” or some such. We’ve all seen these and mostly it’s common sense stuff, like skim milk instead of whole.  Okay, I get that.  Whole wheat instead of white bread, check.   But under “Easy Swaps”  this one suggested “instead of a side of fries, have a side of steamed broccoli – only 10 calories for a half-cup!”   Um, yeah. See- first of all, mostly I get fries when I am getting fast food and I haven’t asked, but I’m fairly sure that  steamed broccoli is not one of the side options with my Super Ultra Fatty Meal.   However, let’s assume that I am at a restaurant with actual menus and/or making dinner at home.  If I am in the mood for fries – if that sounds good to me – broccoli is not  going to be “close enough”.  That’s just stupid.  It’s like suggesting that you switch out your Mack Daddy SUV for a circa 1968 hippie VW bus because they both have lots of cargo space and steering wheels.  Not the same.   Baked potatoes for fries, maybe.  Same basic idea, less deep fat frying.   Baked “fries”, sweet potato fries – these are easy swaps.

Also, I want to talk to the people who keep insisting that you can boil and mash cauliflower and it’s the same as mashed potatoes.  It’s not. I will maybe believe you can substitute up to half, but you know what it tastes like if it’s all cauliflower?  It tastes like boiled and mashed up cauliflower. The only way to make it taste acceptably close to mashed potatoes is to add enough gravy that your arteries will scream as you lift the spoon.

Lastly, who decided that “fun size” candy bars are basically two candy bar molecules clinging together in the smallest possible arrangement visible to the naked eye?  You burn off more calories opening the package than the bar contains. If you inhale while opening it, you could accidentally aspirate it.  You know what would be “fun sized”?  A candy bar I have to take a chainsaw to.  Now that’s fun.

Jami Teaching the Boy to Read

My older son is six and in kindergarten.  He’s starting to sound out words.  It’s exciting; I feel like I’ve been waiting for him to start reading forever.  However, this kid is clearly a science/math guy.  He’s never been into coloring or anything free-form.  He likes rules and order.  And reading, in English at least, is not something you can just apply the rules and figure out.

Every single day, I am peppered with questions about this mysterious code he is beginning to crack. “Why does C make /s/ and /k/ sounds?” I don’t know.  ”How can you tell which one it is?”  Um, well, I don’t know that one either.  ”Why does the C make the /k/ sound when there is also a K?  And how do you know if something is a C or K?”    Helpless shrug.  And then there are vowels and silent letters and combination sounds…. This kid wants hard facts and I can’t give them to him.

I don’t remember learning to read, so I am not much help.  I can give him the basic rules and help him when he hits an exception: “Mom, ‘phone’ has a long O sound – so it’s got a silent E right?” “Right, very good!”  ”So it’s F-O-N-E?”   (sigh) “Actually, it’s a sort of silly one.  It starts with P-H.  When you have a P-H it makes the /f/ sound.”  ”WHAT??  P-H makes FFFFF???  How?? Pa-ha doesn’t sound like ffffff.”  ”I know.  Sorry.”

Wait until he tries to spell “knight”…..

Jami and the Supervillain Conundrum

I had started a post about the connection between supervillains’ seeming higher rate of education versus superheroes – a phenomenon pointed out to me by the fictional but marvelous Dr. Sheldon Cooper of the Big Bang Theory (which if you’re not watching, you should be).  There are plenty of blogs  that have already devoted a post to the basic point of this, which is: supervillains are far more likely to have advanced degrees than heroes.  Sheldon suggests that there should be a better screening process to prevent this, but I am more interested in the cause.  Here are my theories:

1.  Supervillains are generally more ambitious to begin with.  Let’s face it, no one gets into the superhero racket to get rich (possibly except Mystery Men’s Captain Amazing).  It seems that heroes are much more likely to be people who gained powers and had a conscience about how to use them (think Peter Parker) OR are avenging some evils in their lives (like Bruce Wayne).  The heroes who are rich to begin with use their money to enhance their arsenal, but the broke ones don’t gain the big bucks from it. Most even have day jobs.   Some supervillains, on the other hand, get into the villain business not for the sake of evil,  but for personal gain.  Lex Luthor isn’t committing crimes because it’s fun, he’s a greedy mo-fo who also wants to get back at Superman.  Revenge is also a biggie among the supervillains, but they definitely put more effort into the design and execution of their revenge.  Also, note the difference between revenge (Dr. Freeze) and avenge (Batman).   So there’s that.

2. Superheros are not able to get degrees, and the ones who are, aren’t interested.  Peter Parker would probably love to get a PhD, and most likely could handle the academics, but he’s poor and too concerned about repeatedly saving damsels in distress and the city and whatnot.   Bruce Wayne and Tony Stark absolutely could afford it and posses the brain power, but you know Tony is not going to explain himself to anyone and Bruce preferred his own style of education.  The notable exceptions here: Dr. Bruce Banner who had his degree before his hero status and still managed to turn himself into an uncontrollable green monster, which both shows his hidden rage and villain potential, as well as the fact that he’s clearly not a very good scientist.  A few of the X-Men also have some higher degrees, but then, they also have their own school.  But your basic guy who stumbled onto powers just isn’t necessarily doctorate material.

Those are my big two. I also think that being more educated may make you more cynical, that smarter people think their idea of how the world should work is better than everyone else’s and that too much school breaks your brain.  

Jami Loves What She Has Now

It’s November, which means that many FaceBookers are doing the month of gratitude posts.  I’ve done it a few times myself.  For anyone not familiar, it means posting at least one thing  for which you are grateful each day of the month.  It’s also National Adoption Month and NaNoWriMo which means the month when aspiring writers attempt suicide by keyboard.

But back to thankfulness.  I am all for it.  I have started a post about being thankful many times.  I am sincerely grateful and blessed for so very many things in my life, I could probably do a year of gratitude without repeats. But I won’t.  However, what I want to talk about today is not gratitude, but contentment.  Very similar, but different.

Contentment doesn’t mean complacency. I am not for a minute suggesting that you should never want something you don’t have.  Aspiring for more is innately part of us and what continues to move civilization forward.  However, while we are enjoying this time of Thanksgiving, I want to remind you that obsessing over what you don’t have removes the joy you should be receiving from what you do have.

If you read the rest of this and think I am talking about you, you’re probably wrong in that I didn’t have a specific person in mind and you’re probably right because you recognize yourself.  Just saying.

So many of my friends and family have struggled with infertility.  I can’t imagine your pain and won’t pretend to.  There are two ways I see people dealing with this.  One is to continue to try to become parents while being a part of other people’s children’s lives.  Being the fun aunt and uncle, awesome god-parents, Big Brothers/Sisters, teaching, coaching, volunteering with youth programs, whatever.  The other way is to avoid anything to do with children.  Skipping friends’ baby showers (just a note – there are times when this is totally appropriate, but not every shower for the rest of your life, IMO), family holidays, any place they might encounter pregnant women or babies.  One friend had a close family member who refused to talk to her for years after she had a baby – that woman didn’t just miss out on having her own baby, she also lost a loving relationship and the joy that relative’s babies could have brought her.  You think you are protecting yourself, but you are robbing yourself of the joy you could be having.  I have heard women say that they hate to hear someone complain about their kids, because “If I could have a baby, I’d never complain.”  I know you think that.  It’s not true.  I bet you love your husband, but you still get annoyed with him sometimes, right? Of course.

The reason I started with that one is that is, IMO, the most serious.  But if you are desperate to have a baby, I bet you do have a spouse you adore.  One who has suffered with you and you still love each other.  Do you know how many people would be jealous of that? Men and women who are lonely or worse, in a bad relationship.  People who made a bad choice of co-parent and do have children, but have no partner. They can’t imagine complaining about anything when you have someone to love who also loves you.

Do you have a job? I could line people up around the block who wish they did.  Do you love your job? You’re even luckier than you know.  Do you have family? A home? Something you feel you contribute?  Do you have parents who do (or did) love you? Siblings? Are you healthy, physically? Mentally? Emotionally?  Someone is suffering with a dream of having that.

My point isn’t that there is always someone out there worse off than you.  That’s not contentment.  What I am trying to get across is that the time you spend longing for the piece of the puzzle you think you are missing, you aren’t spending enjoying the other 999 pieces that make a pretty nice picture.  It’s okay to keep trying to find “the one” or have a baby or save up for your own home or hope for a cure or pursue your dream career.  These are all great things to work for.  But don’t make the working and hoping all you do. Don’t miss the beautiful things that are your right now while you are running down the street to something else.    You can’t get back a minute of your life and if you reach the end and look back, you don’t want to remember all the things you wanted that you didn’t get.  Make wonderful memories of the things you do have.

Jami Tries the New Blog

So I gave up on Blogger.   For whatever reason, no matter what I try, when I post to Blogger, it refuses to acknowledge my paragraph breaks.  The few times I finally get to sit down and write all the clever things tumbling ’round in my head and I can’t stand it. It shows up as one big unbroken paragraph and occasionally loses other formatting, too. I look on the help boards; I change a hundred little settings and….it doesn’t do crap.  I was doing notes on FB, but they are limited to those who check it, and are harder to check the archives. 

Okay, WordPress…show me what you can do.

I’m just trying this out, and one thing that kills me is that some of my favorite posts are trapped in Blogger purgatory (BTW, the old blog is on: PghsFavoriteJami.blogspot.com)  and I haven’t yet discovered if this can suck them in.  Which means that you might not just accidentally stumble across them here, in what I hope to be my super-popular new blog.

We’ll just see.