In case you're lost

I always wanted to be part of the political landscape - and now I am. Even if it's far, far, away in another part of the galaxy.

Protect and Serve?

I am going to try and remain as unemotional as I tell this story as possible, but I feel it is significant to state that I am as angry and upset by this as I have been about anything.

Alex got another cold about a week ago. As much as I loathe all these endless infections, there is absolutely ZERO I can do to prevent it when we live in a house with a preschooler and a teenager. These two age groups are constantly bringing viruses in the house - so all I can do is cope.

Unfortunately, since the last infection, Alex's little body has been left susceptible to having a recurrence of respiratory infections that lead to breathing difficulties, wheezing and coughing. All of this interrupts everyone's sleep, most especially his. He is an uphappy little guy when everytime he falls asleep he is awakened by his own gasping for breath.

After a few days of this miserable condition, I had to call the doctor AGAIN and we were instructed to come in immediately for more treatment (an inhaler machine with albuterol).

While on my way to the doctor, Alex had a coughing/wheezing attack (it sounds like barking) and began to scream and cry with fits of gasping for breath. I was on the freeway within a mile of doctor's office which is also located at the hospital.

I was in the exit lane to the far right, when the cars in front of me slammed on their brakes creating a domino effect. I was behind this pack and crossed into the next lane and then accelerated to pass this pack of cars so I could get back into that lane and exit.

The traffic jam was caused by a radar trap, and since I was the obvious target, he zapped me, not taking into account that I was passing these other cars and therefore in the process of accelerating. What happened next is what shocked me.

Of course he jumps in his car and proceeds to get right behind me and pull me over. I was kind of surprised as I was merely going with the flow of traffic, other than when I was passing. At this time, Alex's screaming has reached a fevered pitch and he is breathless and turning purple. Had I not been within a minute of the hospital, I would have pulled over anyway.

I retrieved my information and was waiting for the officer to approach the car, which took FIVE MINUTES. I was attempting to quiet Alex and calm him down, but what he wanted was to be held and I wasn't sure getting him out of his carseat before the cop approached was a very good idea.

FINALLY, the officer arrives. He is stern and emotionless. Does not greet me and rather curtly snaps, "License, registration and proof of insurance."

I hand it over. I try to call out over Alex's now hysterical wailing, "Officer, I apologize if I was speeding. I have a very sick infant in the car, and I was try to pass that traffic jam so I could get off at the exit to the hospital."

He looks at me, and scowls, listens to Alex for a moment. "What? Do you need an ambulance?" in a tone that was nothing less than facetious.

I thought for a moment (which wasn't easy to do with my mind racing as I longed to pick up my baby and get him to a place where a doctor could take over) and I calculated that the time it would take to get an ambulance there as slow as this guy moved would be much longer than taking him the 1/4 mile distance left to the hospital. "Um," (pause) uh, I don't think so. I am not sure. I think I can get him there faster."

The officer completely unmoved by the now eye-bulging infant and hand-wringing mother asks me "Do you have any other citations?"

"No, I don't believe so." I thought for sure he would offer to escort me to the hospital and deal with me there. But instead, he took my information back to the squad car, but not before telling me not to move.

I sat for like two minutes and listened to what seemed like an eternity to Alex lose all semblence of reasonability. My heart was racing. Did he mean not to move from my seat, not to move my car, not to move what? Fuck that, I reached back and grabbed Alex out of his seat and sat in the passenger side seat and held him as he had fits and expulsions of anger, coughs, gasping. His body was soaked in sweat and his face wet with tears.

I WANTED TO SMACK THAT OFFICER IN THE MOUTH I was so distraught.

He took 15 minutes to return, and when he did he was ruder than ever. While I held Alex, trying desperately to calm him, he proceeded to explain my fine and what I could do with it. Then he asked me if I had any questions?

I snapped "No. THANK YOU VERY MUCH."

He turned and had the nerve to give me more attitude, astonished that I would have the nerve to be perturbed. "WHAT?"

I said, "No, thank you."

"WHAT?"

I swear, had I the ability to reduce him to a pile of dust with my laserbeam stare, he would be ashes blowing in the wind on the side of 271.

I grimaced at him and said, "No."

He wandered off muttering something about making sure I accelerated to the traffic speed before entering the freeway. I didn't have to, the exit to the hospital was right there.

So, what I ask you folks is this, would you file a complaint about this officer's flagrant disregard for human life and utter discourteous behavior?

Drawing the Line on Pro-Choice

I am Pro-Choice. I begrudge no woman's right to choose a safe alternative to carrying out a full-term pregnancy. But there has got to be reasonable limits to that right. At some point a fetus is no longer a clump of cells and is in fact a sentient being. Maybe it isn't even my right as a human to determine whether that begins at conception or sometime around the 20th week, a full four weeks before normal viability, but I WILL BE DAMNED if I think arguing about the passage of this bill has any merit.

"But abortion rights lawmakers contended that giving a fetus, from the point of conception, the same legal rights as its mother sets a precedent that could be used in future legal challenges to abortion rights."

I am sorry, but the good outweighs the bad in this case. It's one thing for a mother to chose to terminate an unwanted pregnancy, it's another for a terrorist, carjacker, drugdealer or any other criminal scum to get away with committing a murder of one, when it was really a murder of two.

There is a distinction, and for abortion rights fanatics to try to use this particular legal measure to protect the fragile life of innocents as a soapbox for their cause, is as bad as anti-abortion psychotics trying to brainwash America into thinking that women who have normal abortions within a reasonable time period are baby killers.

Moderation people - what's so hard to understand about that concept?

Ceremonies and traditions

Alex's baptism is this weekend and in my in-laws family this is pretty important, and by extension, I find it important as well.

In some ways, I think that a person should wait until they are older and more aware of their religious feelings to be baptized, but I think the whole birth christening is really a symbol more than anything else. We all know God loves the children either way.

For Lily's baptism, we seemed to have waited a while and ended up doing it on Easter when she was six months old. She was a HUGE baby to begin with and the baptismal dress my mother-in-law wore when she was a baby was far too small to really be worn formally, so my mom made an "overdress" and Lily wore the old gown underneath, unbuttoned with the arms loosened.

More symbolism. I was remiss in mentioning the other thing my sister did for me: instilling a longing for tradition and sentimentality. My mother and her siblings were shipped from foster home to foster home as kids and my mom left home with essentially the clothes she was wearing - there wasn't much to pass down. So my sister has sort of acted as the curator for world possessions in our family, and in turn I am trying to do my part.

My mother-in-law on the other hand is an excellent saver of antiquities. When discussing Alex's baptism she mentioned that she had the little outfits that Eric and his brothers wore for their christening and I JUMPED at the opportunity to be a part of a legacy of Olsen religious indoctrination.

She took me to an old Lane cedar chest buried in dust and discarded items. We wiped it off and the familiar smell of cedar and "oldness" wafted under my nose. As I looked at the randomly, but most-gingerly placed items in the chest, to me it was like finding a pot of gold: treasures from the past. A tapestry of history that I was free to adopt as my own for my children. I almost squealed in delight, and my usually-reserved-with-adults mother-in-law was visibly pleased with my excitement.

We found the 45 year-old tiny, yellow, knit baby boy "little-man" suit, complete with a delicately knitted, matching hat and sweet satin booties. I was in heaven and could barely contain myself. These items could have been the ugliest things on earth and I wouldn't have cared. I would have found a way to make sure Alex wore something from the ensemble, but instead they were beautiful and in wonderful shape (though a little smelly).

While looking for the various items, we dug through familiar pieces from her past: the headpiece and bridesmaid gloves that her sister (who died at 21 from diabetes) wore to my in-laws wedding, a quilt-style afghan that she knitted, but never completed for the war effort (and the cross-country tale that went with it), old linens they received as wedding gifts but never used (that were offered to me to use!) and so many little bits and pieces.

I patiently and raptly listened as we took a journey through her life. I mentioned that I should catalog these items and label them for her own daughter for the future. She was pleased that I came up with that idea on my own. Then she said something that just made me know that she does indeed love me and feel a kindred spirit in me.

"Dawn, you are probably the only person who knows the history of some of these items. I know how sentimental you are."

And clearly she knows she is helping to fulfill a tangible magic that was missing from my life too, while in return I can help her pass down the historical lineage that she so treasures.

(ps. I will be sure to post pictures from the baptism)