Tuesday, November 17, 2015

So Many Diapers

I suppose you could say that I have a bit of an addictive personality.  I tend to get really fixated on certain things for a period of time.  Especially puzzles and challenges. 

Sometimes I get on a Sudoku kick and I am constantly envisioning the numbers 1 through 9 and trying to sort them in my head.

When I got my first phone, I was determined to get the hang of T9 texting and was mentally typing everything I said and heard.

At times that I‘ve been into nonograms, every grid I see becomes picture to be coloured in.

During the initial Facebook craze, I was constantly attempting to form every idea and experience into a like-worthy status update.

So what does it say about me now that my daydreams are filled with thoughts of wiping dirty bums? 

Changing Our View of Sex and Consent: In Which I Write Sex 29 Times

Some time ago, I saw someone post on Facebook a series of comics presenting the issue of consent in everyday circumstances – playing cards, watching a movie, lifting weights at the gym…
You may have seen them as they’ve made the social media rounds.  The intent is to draw a metaphor between the individual scenarios and instances of rape, demonstrating how absurd it is to ignore the need for consent in any situation.
Though I can certainly understand and agree with where the cartoonist is going in these comics, what struck me most as I read them was that the biggest issue isn’t consent, but understanding the gravity of the situation.

If a friend insists you keep playing a game you’re not enjoying because that’s what he invited you over for, you might be a little annoyed, but hey, it’s really just a game.

If my husband has promised me all week that we could watch my girly chick flick Friday night, then you better believe I’m going to be upset when he changes his mind on a whim.

On the other hand, if someone takes your car without permission, even if you would have said yes, that’s a big deal – cars are expensive, come with all sorts of liabilities, and are often instrumental to our everyday activities.

And if a person decides they don’t want to have sex at any time or place, with any person, for any reason, that should be respected because sex is a serious matter – after all, bodies are expensive, come with all sorts of liabilities, and are instrumental to our everyday activities.

Promoters of liberal love would have us believe that sex is no big deal.  You can hook up, have multiple partners, define the terms of your sexual relationship any way you want, and generally do whatever you want when it comes to sex because sex is just for fun. 
Then, they turn around and expect harsh penalties for any individual who would commit rape because a sexual crime is a huge violation.  But you can’t have it both ways.

You cannot convince me that sex is just for fun, no bigger a deal than any other form of entertainment. 
Sex is important – sacred, even.  That’s why forcing someone to watch a movie isn’t against the law; that’s why forcing someone into a sexual act is.

Why is sex so serious?  Because sex is so much more than fun.  It is the means by which new life is created.  It is intimate.  It is passionate.  It is absurd.  It is binding.  It makes you vulnerable.  It is personal, interpersonal, and intrapersonal.  So call me old fashioned, but I believe sex should only occur in a well-established loving and committed relationship.  (To me that means marriage, but I won’t get hung up on this detail for the sake of making a larger point.)

When you treat sex lightly, you’re always risking a miscommunication, getting involved with someone less than respectful, or making a choice you might find yourself regretting later.  And mixing casual sex with alcohol is just asking for trouble – if one person isn’t expected to be sober enough to give a straight yes or no, why is another expected to stay sober enough to ask for it?

Even when two individuals are sober, consent can really be a confusing concept.  Nine times out of ten, when my husband wants to have sex I say no – it’s too late, I’m tired, the baby’s going to wake up right away.  Nine times out of ten, after I say no, he convinces me otherwise. 
And you know what?  That’s okay.  In fact, it’s better than okay, it’s great.  I never wake up and regret it the next morning because he’s my husband – I already chose to only have sex with my significant other, and I already chose my significant other to be someone that loves and respects me, and that I trust so that when it really comes down to it, there won’t be any miscommunications, any worry about how he’ll treat me before, during, or after this night.
And sue me…I kind of enjoy being seduced.

That’s why I can’t accept consent as the main issue, but am certain there would be many less instances of rape if we spent more time teaching our children how important sex is instead of how fun and free it can be.

I know that rape is a serious crime that happens in and out of committed relationships.  I would never aim to undermine the pain felt by survivors of rape.  But I believe that when we teach first that sex is a serious matter, one that should not be taken lightly, we reduce the number of perpetrators and victims that put themselves in the position to misconstrue the elements of consent in the first place.  We also would inherently be emphasizing all aspects of consent if individuals embraced the idea that sex should be treated with respect and gravity. 
There will always be evil people that seek to control and abuse; for these, no number of lectures on the issue of consent or the significance of sex is likely to help.  But for those who are honest in their intents, which I believe a good number of perpetrators and victims of rape are, a lesson in the import of sexual intimacy would help to avoid the undesirable circumstances that lead to situations of rape.

I know this stance won’t be popular with supporters of the idea of free love.  They’re selling the idea that sex should come without consequences, but the consequences of sex, good and bad, are real, and cannot be chosen.  Sex is a big deal.  And if we want crimes of a sexual nature to be taken seriously in all cases, we first need to take sex itself seriously. 


Rosie's Mom

We live in an apartment complex with a lot of other young families.  I really enjoy seeing the other kids around at our community playground, and I appreciate the interest that many of them take in my baby daughter. 
I like to greet and converse with all of the kids as I see them, and I try hard to learn all their names. 

Apparently, though, they’re not as intent on learning mine.

“Where are you going, Rosie’s mom?” asked one 4-year-old boy on my way out one afternoon.  I responded and continued on my way; it didn’t even occur to me to inform him that I had another name. 
…I mean, not another name, a real name.

Rosie’s mom.


I think that seals it.  Any identity I once had beyond that of mother is now completely erased from existence.