I’m going to expose myself here.  I’m about to admit something about myself that is silly and makes no sense at all.  It’s embarrassing, very embarrassing.  It’s one of those things that I carry from childhood; some undefined fear or issue that causes my stomach to churn.  I don’t like it, but I’m not sure what to do with it.  Up until now, I’ve simply tried to ignore it or convince myself it’s simply not logical, but… I don’t like closed doors. 

I grew up an only child raised by a single mother.  There were no boys or men in the house and thereby no reasons to make any pretense with clothing or modesty.  My mother had no reason to require private adult time in my presence.  There was rarely a time any door was closed other than for warmth in the winter.  I grew up thinking I had full rights and privileges to any space in my home.  Under those circumstances, why shouldn’t I? 

Big and I married young.  Neither of us ever had roommates.  We lived alone until we had children of our own.  Even then, why close doors?  What was the need?  Our children have always been welcome in our room once the sun came up, and we spent many sunny mornings snuggling in bed, reading books, and giggling together with LM13 and YM11 when they were small. 

Now we are ten years further down the road.  There are a lot more kids around, and on top of that, a few highly important reasons doors should and do stay closed and sometimes locked.  The younger kids don’t seem to notice the difference, the older kids are happy not to see, and the adults need the privacy.  So, what’s the big deal? 

I wish I could explain it!  Maybe it’s because I envision what’s happening behind those closed doors when my loves escape for some private time.  Maybe it’s an immature need to be a part of all good and loving things under the roof I abide.  Maybe it’s a selfish response to being excluded.  Maybe I just don’t trust what I can’t see.  Maybe I think I have some great talent that those around me must constantly be exposed.  Maybe I’m concerned about what shouldn’t be happening behind closed doors, like a quarrel, or worse!  Maybe it’s a dire situation in which I could be of service.  Maybe I’m worried that the door will open and some “decision” will step forth that affects my life in a negative manner.  Maybe I’m just a cracked egg with enough fault lines to employ any therapist for years on end. 

Mine is really a pitiful response to a natural need for quiet time and retreat.  I would love to be rid of this annoyance.  I would love to feel all frubbly 100% of the time instead of insecure a fraction of the time.  I am hoping that in time I can learn to overcome my anxiety, regardless of its origin.  I’ve considered that this might just be jealousy with a twist, but really, as long as the doors stay open, I react totally differently to the same situations. 

So, I take full responsibility for my neurotic tendencies.  I own them, they are all mine.  Most of them are controllable.  Most of them I can predict.  Most of them I can ward off with a little self talk.  But this one?  I haven’t got a clue what to do with it.  Maybe one day I can just live in a free roaming house with no walls or doors.  Maybe I could wake up one day in an alternate universe, but I doubt it.  So while my phobia and I get to know each other a little bit better, “talk amongst yourselves…” 

~Goddess

I’m going to expose myself here.  I’m about to admit something about myself that is silly and makes no sense at all.  It’s embarrassing, very embarrassing.  It’s one of those things that I carry from childhood; some undefined fear or issue that causes my stomach to churn.  I don’t like it, but I’m not sure what to do with it.  Up until now, I’ve simply tried to ignore it or convince myself it’s simply not logical, but… I don’t like closed doors. 

I grew up an only child raised by a single mother.  There were no boys or men in the house and thereby no reasons to make any pretense with clothing or modesty.  My mother had no reason to require private adult time in my presence.  There was rarely a time any door was closed other than for warmth in the winter.  I grew up thinking I had full rights and privileges to any space in my home.  Under those circumstances, why shouldn’t I? 

Big and I married young.  Neither of us ever had roommates.  We lived alone until we had children of our own.  Even then, why close doors?  What was the need?  Our children have always been welcome in our room once the sun came up, and we spent many sunny mornings snuggling in bed, reading books, and giggling together with LM13 and YM11 when they were small. 

Now we are ten years further down the road.  There are a lot more kids around, and on top of that, a few highly important reasons doors should and do stay closed and sometimes locked.  The younger kids don’t seem to notice the difference, the older kids are happy not to see, and the adults need the privacy.  So, what’s the big deal? 

I wish I could explain it!  Maybe it’s because I envision what’s happening behind those closed doors when my loves escape for some private time.  Maybe it’s an immature need to be a part of all good and loving things under the roof I abide.  Maybe it’s a selfish response to being excluded.  Maybe I just don’t trust what I can’t see.  Maybe I think I have some great talent that those around me must constantly be exposed.  Maybe I’m concerned about what shouldn’t be happening behind closed doors, like a quarrel, or worse!  Maybe it’s a dire situation in which I could be of service.  Maybe I’m worried that the door will open and some “decision” will step forth that affects my life in a negative manner.  Maybe I’m just a cracked egg with enough fault lines to employ any therapist for years on end. 

Mine is really a pitiful response to a natural need for quiet time and retreat.  I would love to be rid of this annoyance.  I would love to feel all frubbly 100% of the time instead of insecure a fraction of the time.  I am hoping that in time I can learn to overcome my anxiety, regardless of its origin.  I’ve considered that this might just be jealousy with a twist, but really, as long as the doors stay open, I react totally differently to the same situations. 

So, I take full responsibility for my neurotic tendencies.  I own them, they are all mine.  Most of them are controllable.  Most of them I can predict.  Most of them I can ward off with a little self talk.  But this one?  I haven’t got a clue what to do with it.  Maybe one day I can just live in a free roaming house with no walls or doors.  Maybe I could wake up one day in an alternate universe, but I doubt it.  So while my phobia and I get to know each other a little bit better, “talk amongst yourselves…” 

~Goddess, 8-30-06

Our kids are already in school, but there was a problem with the teacher::kid ratios and the county pulled a teacher, thereby rearranging all the kids in the class where LM6 was placed. Temptress and I went in this morning to meet the new teacher.

When we had sneak-a-peek a few weeks ago, Fix and I took all the kids since the other two were out of town on business. We didn’t get any stares or any questions. We simply introduced each other by first name and as each child’s parent. It went something like, “Hello, I’m Goddess, I’m YM6’s mom, and this is Fix.” Or vice versa for Fix and Temptress’ kids. I suppose with the prevalence of blended families these days no one thought anything about our introductions. We told them our families shared a residence and then mentioned I would be the one most likely to be dealing with the teachers since the other mommy was out of town on business quite often. After that, my non biological children proclaimed me “Aunt” and the teachers would nod and that was the end of it.

Today was a bit different. Having both the Moms go in together didn’t get any stares, until Temptress walked right up to the new teacher and introduces us by name, followed by, “We’re LM6’s Mommies.”

I was a little shocked that she said it that way, (ok, not so much – she said she was going to) but what did surprise me was how the information didn’t seem to faze this teacher. She asked about legal status and guardianship when Temptress told her I would be the one dealing with the children’s schooling issues and conferences since she was away frequently. Then we told her the Father would be accompanying me to conferences and other official appointments she seemed slightly confused, but didn’t ask any questions.

Perhaps it’s because I’m relatively new to this alternate lifestyle thing, I’m unaccustomed to peeking the interest with anything more shocking than a long term marriage. (And you’ll have to admit; anything over about 9 years these days is still a little out of the ordinary.) Once we got home, I started thinking… We live in a sleepy little suburb about 45 minutes outside what I would consider a fairly large and somewhat progressive metropolitan area. I’m sure there are other places within the city that alternate lifestyles and children are more of an everyday mix. But, as forward thinking as I have become privately, taking steps further from the closet can sometimes twinge my straight and narrow past.

I truly believe in what we are doing. I’m not ashamed of us or our lifestyle. There are just so many people around us that are conservative thinkers, and could cause challenges with our kids. The last thing I want is for the kids to come home and doubt what we are trying to teach them. I want our children to know tolerance. I want them to seek to understand before being understood. I want them to learn to love people for who they are, not based on preconceived notions of what they think they see.

All in all, today was a positive thing. I’m constantly impressed at how much freer I feel as more people come to know of our chosen lifestyle. I don’t expect understanding, but I do expect people to treat me as me, regardless of whether or not they understand what I’m doing, or why. Society and its standards have changed so much in the last 15 years, 25 years, 100 years… Women can vote, children are allowed to express their opinions without fear of being silenced, and there is, to some extent, equality between the races. I hope in my lifetime, the family I choose for myself will be accepted based on our character. I’d like to be free to be affectionate with all my spice outside our home. And I’d like to be recognized for the parent I’ve become to all nine of our children.

~Goddess, 8-22-06

August 11, 2006

Did you see Steve Martin’s face in Father of the Bride II when the doctor said they were pregnant? When you think you’re past all that, it can come as quite a shock. Imagine how much more so in the poly world when you have two men in your life who have both had vasectomies. We looked it up and find that there is a one in two thousand chance of firing real bullets again without notice. Once you figure out that the father is your spice, then you have to decide so many things based on how out of the closet you are with your friends, family, and neighbors. Which last name do you use? How do you explain to the kids whose sibling it is? How will the child one day explain having ten half brothers and sisters – none of which share a parent? What rights will the other two parents have legally in a society that will not recognize four parents? Life just got more complicated.

I like the name Tyson which would be shortened to Ty. It is so fitting since he would tie the families together. He would be the one child that belonged to every one of us by blood. We would go from five kids per family to 5 ½ still leaving us with a tie. We were starting to countdown our years to freedom since life begins when the dog dies and the kids leave home. He would also tie us down for an extra three years. He would add to our bond with each other. We have always felt that we never quite caught up with the very natural pull that Fix and Goddess felt for each other originally. What a perfect name for our OPL baby boy. And of course it would be a boy – after three boys in a row, I’m shocked I could create a girl last time. A boy would also create same sex bookends on both sides of the family for the kids at home (from a mom’s perspective) – GBBBG and BGGGB. He would be perfectly named.

Of course it doesn’t help that most female problems mask themselves to look like signs of pregnancy. It doesn’t help if your cycles are less than predictable. It doesn’t help that you always show up as not pregnant on the home pregnancy kits every time you actually were pregnant in the past. It doesn’t help when the other three in your quad say “I know it probably is nothing, but WHAT IF?

No matter how sure you are that you can’t. Don’t sleep with someone that you wouldn’t want to have a child with. All children conceived are a gift from God and should be treated as such. I don’t think I would be willing to reverse my procedure to make this a possibility, but I can’t say I’m opposed to such a gift coming our way. She tells me that I’m more positive about this possibility than she is. If you feel like I’m keeping you in the dark so far, don’t blame me. At the time of this part of my writing, I’m in the dark just like you. There has been a doctor’s appointment set for August 15th. My expectation is that this is becoming a real possibility in her mind and when it doesn’t happen, my girl will be sad for many days to come over the loss of something that never was. At least you won’t be stuck in suspense mode for as long as us.

August 21 – Auntie Flo has arrived for her monthly visit. The doctor’s appointment that turned up negative has been confirmed. I’m off to console my love.

~B

When we began our polyamorous journey, I was very wrapped up in the energy.  I was keenly aware of how out of character we were behaving.  I knew those around us would not understand our choices.  It was all very secret and all very tantalizing.  Not to say I did it because of the covert aspect, but I’ll be honest and admit I was walking through life with a huge secret only four of us knew.  That in and of itself was fun; actually, it was exhilarating. 

I suppose it’s like any other thrill in life.  Once you’re there, you become accustomed, desensitized.  Some settling in takes longer than others.  And sometimes it’s situational and not so much a factor of time.  I can imagine extreme sports are like that.  You begin skiing the bunny hill, move to snowboarding the Diamond Back trail, and before you know it you’ve “next stepped” yourself into jumping from a helicopter onto an avalanche ready perch of snow.  Well, I don’t know for sure that’s how it works, but I can bet a regular Joe doesn’t just wake up one day from an average existence and think to himself, “today I’ll do something frighteningly deadly just for the thrill of it.” 

Same with me and my wonderful poly life.  I didn’t just wake up one morning and look in the mirror and say, “Hmm, just for kicks today, perhaps I’ll shed the skin of monogamy, collect a few new lovers, and shock the hell out of everyone who knows me.”  It wasn’t a spontaneous decision.  It wasn’t even a spontaneous thought.  My evolution into polyamory commenced with a traumatic event and ebbed and flowed from conscious thought and wanderings of the mind for well over three years.  If I was introspective enough, I’d say the winds of change had been blowing in my life for well over a decade prior to my catalyst.  

This is certainly not the place to get into every subconscious detail, nor is it my intention to linger in my thoughts all the while filling my brain with a bunch of pop societal psycho-babble.  The world is full of people dying to tell their very sad stories.  In my never to be humble opinion, the past is exactly that – PAST – and it’s where it will stay.  I can’t do anything to change what already happened.  All I can do is go forward with the best of intentions and an open mind. 

From that let me say I never anticipated the ease out of our poly closet to be easy.  In fact, I figured that was the process that would cause the most discomfort.  I surmise that practically everyone who now knows, and most of the ones that will know in the future, their first thought is, “not her – no way – she’s not the type that would do anything like that.”  Now before my dear readers go getting their panties in a wad, jut let me say that I do not think polyamorous people are twisted or corrupt in any way.  Heck, I AM one now.  It’s just that three years ago I was about as Vanilla as any girl could be.  I was married, monogamous, just oozing longevity and commitment from every pore.  I was low risk and even lower on the adventure scale.  I’m not saying I was boring, I just had led a very sheltered and straight laced life.  Solid.  Stable.  Steady. 

Maybe it’s because people knew me to be a certain person.  Or so they thought.  Maybe it’s because even I would never have predicted I’d be the kind of person that would turn my views inside out.  Maybe it’s perhaps I’ve always been the “good girl” in life.  But for whatever reason, the people that have been closest to me over my adult life, have been far more shocked than I expected.  Shocked isn’t even the word.  Let’s try mortified.  Or how about appalled.  In their defense, I haven’t necessarily been forthcoming with all the details of my latest journey.  So maybe they saw the same old me, when in reality, the changes going on inside were alarmingly rapid and conflicting. 

So, here is the question…  Am I the same person or not?  I feel the same in some ways and totally different in others.  I may be living an alternate lifestyle, but the person I was inside – my character, my personality – are still remarkably similar to the untainted girl these people have known for years.  I hadn’t stopped to consider if this one change could have such a monumental effect on everything else about me, that suddenly most everyone I held close to me would not only see a difference in me, but use that transformation to push me (and subsequently my new lifestyle) away in disgust. 

So, am I Dr Jekyl or Mr Hyde?  Am I the person I’ve always been with a twist?  Or am I a WHOLE new person in the old skin?  Apparently there are a lot of people who don’t recognize the “new” me.  Funny, I thought I’d been here all along. 

~Goddess, 8-17-06

The kids went back to school yesterday. Seven of our nine children were gone for the day by 8:30 am. The house let out an audible sigh of relief. So did all the parents.

We’ve been prepared with school supplies and new backpacks for weeks. The lunchboxes are standing ready. The new school year chore chart is posted on the communications board. The lunch accounts are primed with food funds. Routines have been discussed. The alarm clocks are synchronized. Back to school is always a fun time. It means fall is coming, and the routines shift back into a more predictable mode. It also means my days are a little freer and I have time for myself.

I felt for a lot of years that if I wanted or needed time for myself I was being selfish. Then one day I reached a level of frustration threatened my sanity from the sheer volume of responsibility, I discovered I MUST take time for myself. Just like you can’t run a flashlight on a dead battery, I can’t manage my family without taking time to recharge that part of me that wants to give my loved ones the very best I have to offer.

Now that I’m home full time, I have lots of plans for my “spare time.” I say that laughingly because in a house of 14, there never is really any spare time. For anything I want to do, time must be found or dedicated. I could spend my entire day engrossed in dirty laundry, dirty dishes, and dirty floors. But then I would miss the joy that comes from picnicking with my preschoolers, indulging myself with hours of dedicated scrap booking time, taking spontaneous lunch dates with Temptress, and in general, loving every minute that’s been gifted me.

Another wonderful benefit to having the children in school is it affords time between the spice and I. With my early mornings and long days, by the time I hit the pillow in the evenings, I’m rarely energetic enough for anything beyond a loving goodnight kiss and comfy snuggle. Suffice it to say, I love an afternoon delight when the opportunity presents itself. Perhaps this is TMI, but I like to see my victims, er, lovers when we’re in the throws of passion.

As much as I enjoy being surrounded by my family, there comes a time when I have to call a time out for mommy. I need quiet and peace. I need to rest and relax. I need time to read. I need time to just veg without being pounced and trounced; without being called upon, or requested for referee duties.

I love my children, I love our children. It’s just that when they are all home at once, and restless beyond measure like nothing except the end of summer can bring, it’s a little overwhelming. Normally, one of the benefits of having such a large family is that I don’t feel the need to entertain them. They form their own playgroup with enough interchangeable playmates to keep them occupied and happy. This is not the case in the last weeks of summer.

Can you say, “year round schooling?” “Ya, I knew you could. Thank you, neighbor.”

~Goddess, 8-15-06

Dawn is just breaking here. Big and I are away on business again.
He is downstairs having an early breakfast meeting and I am here in the room taking care of paperwork, and waiting for the clock to tick to 8am so I can complete a business call and then be on my way down to breakfast.

Our trips away have become easier, it is not like it was at first, always being so very careful and keeping our distance. Now co-workers are used to seeing me. Being his right arm has become a joke and most say they want “a girl like me”. I usually smile inside and snicker to myself. I love an inside joke. Big of course laughs jovially and says “My wife sends her along because she’s the only woman she trusts to keep me straight”. That always gets him a few laughs as well.

He has begun to relax now. The huge fear of people finding out has lessened and it shows in his demeanor. I find him catching my eye across a room now, when before we went out of our way to avoid each other.

I still wait. I wait until the last client has left our suite, until the evening meal is shared companionably ( one never knows who will join us or who might be there in the restaurant unbeknownst to us) and finally when the door closes behind us and we are safely in our suite. I can breathe again. I can smile at him. I can look at him. I can tell him I love him. I wait all day for the few hours we can snatch from public view and no matter how those hours are spent, showering together, watching TV, discussing the next days game plan, making love or dropping in bed and falling to sleep in exhaustion, each an every moment spent away from the eyes of the public is pure happiness on my part.

I just looked at the clock; I have 15 minutes until I make my call. Before I began writing this I gave a ring to home. Our LM 11 answered and advised me that “the parents” hadn’t been seen yet. I gave a message to be passed along and as I write this I think of them. Given their absence from the kitchen for morning breakfast prep I can surmise they are doing one of two things. Catching a morning shower or spending some intimate time together. I get a warm fuzzy feeling thinking of the two of them there at home, being together, tending the crew, and enjoying time with each other. I miss them.

Being a stay at home mom for the last 15 years has been one of my greatest joys. But now I have a chance to really do something for my family. Helping Big to build our business to what I KNOW it can be is very fulfilling.
If I had to predict years ago how I thought my life would be, I would never have predicted any of this. And for that I am thankful.
Because the surprises that life has handed me in these last 10 months, next to my children, have brought me the sweetest of joy.

There was a time in recent months where I would wake up and wonder if this was the day it would end. Would this be the day Big decided he couldn’t live this lifestyle. Would any of us ?

Fix and I are struggling right now; we have been for weeks, months, off and on. None of our issues are “quad” issues; they are past hurts and learning new ways to communicate, learning how to live with depression and learning to help him deal with his emotions. For you Star Trek fans…. Think of Data when his emotion chip was turned on. Fix has had his emotion chip turned on and he has to learn to deal with it. But even with our struggles, I still love him. He is still the man I want to spend my life with. And no matter how much these struggles have hurt, I just can’t turn away. I have to keep fighting for him, for us, even when I think I can’t any longer.

But I digress; my first thought upon waking was always the end. And this morning as I opened my eyes to the darkened room and saw Big quietly dressing for his meeting all I felt was love. I realized the fear was gone. The end was not my first thought and it felt good. I wondered for a moment where he was in his thoughts, not concerning this mornings business, but how settled was he now with our quad, with our life and our choices. I see many differences, many changes in him, but I am waiting for the one thing that will tell me with certainty he is ready.

I took a deep breath, snuggled deeper under the covers and for the first time in many months, I thought of the future.

Temptress

Since the summer is rolling to a close, three of the parents opted to take the four older children (ages 13 and 11) to the movies yesterday. Actually, it was a reward of sorts that we’d been promising them for a while. First run movies are not usually something on which we routinely splurge our money, but it was something they had voted to do, and we owed them a thank you gift.

Imagine one daddy, two mommies, and four tweens trying to decide on one film. NOT HAPPENING. Long gone are the days we can find one family movie that satisfies everyone’s taste and maturity level. After lists of movies from different theatres and a 35 minute discussion, the parents finally agreed that we would choose a time frame and let everyone see what they wanted. That seemed to satisfy everyone except me (where is the family time in separate theatres??) but I can learn to deal.

This really isn’t a blog devoted to which movies we all saw, but more so a reaction to one movie in particular. Our daughters 11 and 13 opted to see the tween targeted John Tucker Must Die. I’ll link a few reviews here for your convenience, just in case you are really that interested, but it was typical teen angst without much of a nod from the critics.

http://movies.yahoo.com/shop?d=hv&cf=info&id=1809273670

http://www.oregonlive.com/movies/oregonian/index.ssf?/base/entertainment/1153945517112520.xml&coll=7

Perhaps I should give a spoiler alert here, but I doubt anyone reading our blog is in danger of seeing this movie without a teenage daughter on hip, so my responsibility not to give away the ending is indifferent at best. Basically, the school playboy is caught cheating by several girlfriends simultaneously and they team up to exact their revenge, most of which is counter productive to their plans.

The premise seemed basic enough, and I found no evidence of lewd or explicit behavior, so we agreed to let them view the film. They came out of the theatre giggling like, well, girls, and couldn’t wait to tell us about the funny ending. The ending, apparently, was something along the lines of this boy deciding deception was wrong and in the future he would be both open and honest about all his relationships. The last scene (supposedly, let me remind you I didn’t actually see it myself) was of said boy with his arms around two different girls vowing to be honest in the future and thereby introducing each of the young ladies to the other his “girlfriend.”

I must admit that two years ago that concept, especially within a movie aimed at young teens would have shocked me. But my response yesterday was something more along the lines of a smirk. There stood two tweenagers living in a polyamorous home and saw no correlation between what they had witnessed on the screen and what they witness daily at home. I shot a knowing glance at Temptress and whispered, “Did Hollywood just give our girls a lesson in poly 101?”

It’s a parent’s greatest responsibility to make sure our kids get positive messages. I think I spend the majority of my time with them making sure what goes into their brain and heart is congruent with the values we hold as a family. Although I believe in what our quad stands for, I’m not quite sure if a fully integrated poly lifestyle is what I’d wish for my children as adults. Perhaps I’m still partially embedded in monogamous theology; perhaps “alternate lifestyle” is still just a little too out of the norm for everyday reality; perhaps wanting the best for my children is still more along the lines of mainstream pop culture.

Is it possible that I’m that torn between what I’m doing and what I believe is right? No, I don’t think so. When I stop and question my conscience I feel no dissention between my thoughts and actions. I just want what will make our kids happy and well adjusted – whatever form that may take. I think society is just all too ready to age my children prematurely. And I think that I’d rather teach my kids the “straight and narrow” and let them discover a wider path once their foundations are more firmly in place. Maybe I just want what all Mommies want… for them to enjoy the freedom of being kids just a little while longer.

~Goddess, 8-8-06

Mind and Body

As most of our readers know, Fix deals with daily depression. Some days are very good days, others are a struggle for him and still others cause him to want to hide in our room for the day.

For years he lived with demons of the mind I knew nothing about. Things he buried deep. The loneliness of spending 2 ½ months on the road with repair crews after Hurricane Katrina brought many of his demons to light. And now his brain struggles daily to assimilate the information and heal from the tricks and deception it used as a protective barrier from his memories.

I am constantly amazed by the power of the mind. My own has decided a few tricks need to be played on me.
I am currently having a health issue that has been unsettling to say the least. There are so many possibilities of what it could be…. But it is mimicking something I truly would love for it to be.

Due to my work schedule and that of my Dr., I have to wait until the 11th to be seen. So in the meantime I, along with my quad, wait and wonder what the final verdict will be.
My mind and my body are playing the cruelest of jokes at my expense and my emotions are rolling until I know “for sure”.
As I sit and convince myself of what I am very sure it is not ( but not so secretly ant it to be)….. I then become concerned for what it may be instead ?

And so until I can get at least one answer Friday, I’ll sit and wait and wonder.

Many of the poly people I have met online go to Unitarian Universalist churches. There are only a few such churches in our area. After a little research, the four of us decided to attend one this morning. This particular one had about thirty attendees most of whom were a little older than I would have expected. When they had the children come down front for a story, there were only three of them. We chose to leave ours at home today since we weren’t sure what to expect. We would have quadrupled their numbers this morning with our clan alone.

I’m told that there are as many different flavors as there are congregations for UUs. This one had a gay and lesbian bend at least for today. The guest speakers were from PFLAG (Parents, Families and Friends of Lesbians and Gays). Most of the songs and responsive readings followed suite. The speakers’ message of getting involved in the community after both of their sons came out of the closet years ago caused introspection. As I have researched biblical perspectives on polyamory, perspectives on homosexuality have been intertwined. I have not studied to a point to argue for or even neutrality for homosexuality in the bible, but I have come to a point where I believe most denominations speaking out against it are lumping gay relationships (two consenting same sex adults) in with temple prostitution, rape, sexual abuse, and orgies. Much of the response and actions from the church very much fall in the camp of bigotry in my opinion. The arguments over whether one chooses to be gay or is just born that way seem to be mute points if you have no issues with your resulting actions and you take responsibility for said actions. I don’t care for the “it’s not my fault” mentality that seems so prevalent today in society.

Being in a service with so many different religious symbols was strange. I agree that there are many valuable and vital teachings from other faiths, spiritualities, and science. But this is not what I need to grow in my faith. I find that religions that solely focus on how to deal with yourself or else other creatures and creations around you miss the bigger focus of how you should deal with your Creator. To ignore that relationship or to deny that such a being to relate to even exist seems to be like organizing chairs on the deck of the Titanic.

Several of the comments I heard toward Christianity had a note of hurt feelings. Obviously many Christians are too busy trying to remove the speck of sawdust from their neighbor’s eye without seeing the plank within their own. I guess I could call it the echo of discrimination and hatred. If a group of people wrongly has a problem with you because of what you are or what you choose, suddenly you aren’t so excited about them either. I wouldn’t want my kids to be exposed to that as young Christians themselves which is another reason I wouldn’t want us to become regular attendees. If the church organization for poly awareness (UUPA) ever had a speaker in the area though, I would love to attend.

I think that the best someone can do that has gone against the crowd is to stay where you are and don’t run away. Rather than leaving churches and communities that have issues with your actions, over time you can have a strong influence in that arena. By standing their as an advocate whether publicly or just privately to the people closest to you, discrimination looses some of its foothold. If what you are doing is good even though it is not the norm, you make it easier for the next person that feels as you do to follow. The best things in life aren’t usually easy; they’re just worth it.

~ Big

Did ya ever encounter a person that left you feeling empty?  Have you ever wanted to glare at someone and ask how they manage to look at themselves in the mirror everyday? 

I had heard all my life, “there are givers and there are takers,” but I honestly didn’t understand or believe that comment until I got into college and subsequently the working world.  I suppose I was a very lucky child indeed to be raised in a family that was loving and warm and where (for the most part) everyone was a contributing member.  As wonderful as it was, it skewed my perspective of real world personality dynamics.  In my naïve and inexperienced young adulthood, I took everyone at face value and gave people in general a lot more room to hurt me than I should. 

I’m a quality time/acts of service kind of gal.  (For more info on those terms, I can recommend a great book The Five Love Languages)  I love assisting others.  I love getting up early and preparing Fix’s lunchbox.  I enjoy sewing costumes, volunteering in my kid’s classes, and winning the war on that day’s toughest laundry stains (thus my moniker.)  Some of my favorite pastimes are others centered, like my scrapbooking (I’ve convinced myself that my hobby is less based on my creative outlet and more directed at leaving a sense of family history and significance for my children). 

We also do lots of tradition and memory centered activities at our house.  We have fun and wacky themed days and dinners such as Barbarian Night (eat with your hands and no plates), St Patty’s All Green Foods Day (including Green Eggs and Ham for breakfast), or like yesterday, when we celebrated Harry Potter’s birthday with wizarding food for meals and snack.  I’m thrilled we have a salad garden and that my kids are getting the benefit of both fresh foods and a little horticulture experience from home.  Heck, if my HOA would allow it, we’d have egg laying chickens in the back yard. 

I say all this to make a point.  Giving is what I do, it’s who I am, and it’s what brings me joy.  I gain great amounts of pleasure from doing things that are meaningful to others.  I don’t expect everyone else in the world to be like me, in fact, I know most aren’t.  But what I do expect is some modicum of civility, a notion of kindness, and an understanding that there are a lot of us in this great big world and we each need to give a little bit even when it doesn’t suit us. I’m not trying to make myself out to be anything other than human, but c’mon, a little bit of altruism wouldn’t hurt anyone. 

Sometimes we’re lucky enough to be able to tailor make our environment, including the people with whom we surround ourselves.  Other times, however, we find ourselves in a position where we have to deal with people, or a person, who treats you like your mere existence is there to facilitate.  As much as I enjoy helping others, an expectant attitude will kill my spirit of service in an instant. 

Maybe I’m just talking to hear myself complain, but I don’t understand how some people can take what they want in a situation just because it meets their needs, and can seemingly do so without regard to how it will affect another.  I fail to comprehend the long term value of actions that cause resentment in those you must have further dealing.  I can’t fathom how selfishness can be gratifying.  And I am at a total loss when it comes to grasping the benefit of taking without giving back. 

:::taking a deep breath:::slowly exhaling::: 

This was a test, this was only a test.  This rant was a test of the “I need to blow off some steam” network.  Had this been a real emergency, an official disclaimer would have preceded the long and lengthy discourse.  Thank you for your attention.  You may now go back to your previous posted polyamorous topics. 

~Goddess, 8-1-06