Buckle Up

As I drove down Mill Road in my rusty, red farm truck, I glanced in my rearview mirror and noticed the familiar red and blue flashing lights behind me. In a split second several questions raced through my mind. Am I speeding? A quick look at the speedometer tells me no. Did I stop completely at the stop sign I just went through? Yes. It must be my turn signal. I hadn’t used it because it was broken. That had to be it. I was busted for not using my turn signal. However, to my shock and surprise, the reason, so I thought, was far more aggravating. I wasn’t wearing my seatbelt!

I rarely go unbuckled, but for some reason when I slide into the cab of the truck, it doesn't cross my mind to strap in.

The officer acted as if I was the most unsafe motorist he’d ever encountered and I was lucky he couldn’t yank my driver’s license away for good, and toss it into the bottomless pit of non seatbelt wearing violators.

Gee-wiz, it wasn’t like I broke the law or something!

Then I remembered; I had, indeed broken the law. My first reaction led me to think it was a waste of time for this police officer to pull me over, wag his “shame on you” finger and scold me for not being safe. Although I was truly aggravated and embarrassed for being pulled over, I realized that the police officer was right to be so stern with me. It was a serious thing to be unbuckled. Not only could I have caused injury to myself, had I been in an accident, but I could have been killed in the process. This experience has provided me with the opportunity to really think about the seriousness of safety belt use and our current laws regarding them. Ultimately its leading me to firmly believe in the gravity of their use and the importance of having a law in place demanding them to be worn.

I came across some really crazy statistics that were quite alarming to me, and made me think twice about not strapping in. These facts were discovered in a study done in 2004 by James Madison University. The facts that were revealed were so alarming that they may very well change the mind of any individual who is set in their ways and not buckling up.

- One out of every five drivers will be involved in a traffic crash this year.

- Approximately 35,000 people die in motor vehicle crashes each year. About 50 percent of these people could have been saved if they wore their safety belts.

- In a 30 mph collision, an unbelted 160 lb. person can strike another passenger, crash through a windshield and/or slam into the vehicles interior with a 4,800 lb. force.

- Safety belt use is one of the best defenses against the unpredictable actions of a drunk driver.

- A common cause of death or injury to children in motor vehicles is being crushed by adults who are not wearing safety belts. One out of four serious injuries to passengers is caused by occupants being thrown into each other.

That last one is what did it for me!

- About 80 percent of all injuries to children in car crashes are injuries to the head, causing brain damage, permanent disfigurement, epilepsy or death.

- Of every 100 children who die in motor vehicle crashes, at least 80 would survive if they were properly secured in an approved child safety seat or safety belt.

- An estimated 80 percent of American children are immunized against contagious diseases, but less than 10 percent are properly restrained when riding in a motor vehicle.

No one wants to be told what to do, and many drivers are determined not to wear them for any number of reasons...they are too confining, uncomfortable, inefficient or because they just don't want the intrusion of the government in they're private lives.

It’s easy to think that nothing tragic can happen when the comfort of traveling in an automobile for years without an accident allows you to feel a sense of false security. The truth of the matter is, an accident can occur at a split second and wearing a seatbelt can mean the difference between life and death.

Laws for seatbelt use are in place to save lives, however it’s disturbing to learn that although virtually every state has standard laws that allow enforcement officers to stop and ticket a violator for having a broken tail light or for tossing trash out the window, most states currently do not have standard laws for seat belt use.

All I know is this: the next time I slide into the seat of that beat up pick-up truck, I won’t make the same mistake and ride unbuckled. Never again will a Police Officer pull me over for not being properly restrained. In fact, I should be thanking the officer who stopped me for giving me the opportunity to reflect on the usage of seatbelts. And although my pride was a bit bruised when the officer got after me, and made me feel like a little kid for not doing what I was supposed to, I learned that sometimes it takes a good scolding to understand something important.

Post script

For all of you readers that see that last statement as an invitation to shake your fist at me and give me a piece of their mind, please reconsider your motives as I tend to be very stubborn and rarely take criticism well. :)

Baby's Breath

The Road to Emily

For anyone who's ever gained more weight than they care to admit, understands me when I say that it's shocking to look in the mirror and not recognize the image staring back at you. It's a feeling that can only be described as depressing. I've caught myself glaring at the stranger in front of me and cursing at her for letting herself go.

Just today as I leaned into the mirror with my nose almost touching the glass, I was reminded of the Peter Pan movie (with Robin Williams) where the Lost Boys are looking at Peter and they finally realize that the Peter they used to know is really inside the body of the unrecognizable adult before them. They look and stare and analyze him until they finally whisper, "Peter, it IS you!" That's when I found myself whispering out loud, "Emily, are you in there? If you are, I NEED you."

It's painful analyzing the figure that seemed unimaginable just a few short years earlier as I gazed into the same mirror 30, 40, 50 pounds lighter. Even then, the self criticism was excruciating. In my 20's, my tight butt, perky breasts and smooth stretchmark-free skin were taken for granted when the focus of criticism was on pimples, freckles and frizzy hair.

Why can't we just be happy in the skin we're in? It's a constant battle with the skinny girl inside of me...she wants out! She needs to breathe! She needs to be seen! The numbers on the scale don't lie...especially when the thing is flying through the air and out across traffic! The truth of the matter is, I've forgotten what she looks like. I don't remember the thin girl that used to house my body. Where is she? WHERE IS SHE!

Well, I'm on a journey! I am in search of the perky young body that caught the eye of my honey 13 years ago. The road to finding her may take several months, possibly years, but it's a trip that is long overdue. It's a trip that has been on the books for much too long without making reservations. Now's the time! It's all confirmed! The wheels are in motion and there are no refunds. Skinny Emily is out there somewhere all alone and I mean to find her and bring her home where she belongs!

I refuse to look at an unfamiliar image in the mirror EVER AGAIN! I long for the day when I peer into the reflective glass and say to myself, "Hi there, stranger. Where've you been?"

13 Going on 30

All I have to say is...I have one of these living under my roof!

Apples and Oranges

From the day we are born and brought home from the hospital, the way we are treated is directly correlated with our gender. In fact, even when we are still in the womb, our gender plays a specific role in the way others behave around us.

A woman learns she's pregnant for the first time, and with this knowledge, she is filled with the emotions that are inevitable, as any new mom wonders what her life will be like with a new baby. There are many questions that arise during this delicate time, and much preparation is needed to welcome in a new addition. The countdown begins as the weeks and months are tallied up to determine the date that will bring a new life into this world. The family and friends are notified of the wonderful news, the doctor's appointments are scheduled, and now it's only a matter of time before colors can be picked out for the nursery.

From week 15, the image can clearly be seen from an ultrasound that will announce the sex of the child. Every parent experiences a great amount of anticipation as they wait for the final word as to the gender of their baby. From the moment the ultrasound brings the image into view, gender role is attached to the idea of what the baby will, or should, be like. For example, from the moment I learned that I was going to give birth to my first daughter, all I could see was pink. Everywhere I went I saw pink; pink dresses, pink baby-dolls, pink night-gowns, pink shoes, pink socks...pink everything. What I didn't realize was the fact that with my knowledge of the sex of my baby, I was assigning a predetermined gender role to her. I, like many others, have this idea about the way a boy or a girl should act. Girls play with dolls and wear dresses, and boys play with trucks and wear over-alls. Why is this the case? Somewhere along the line, the norm was formed as to how each gender should behave.

When I think about all the stories that my parents told me about my birth, I can't help but wonder if my gender was more important than I thought. I was the third child to be born into my family, however I was the first-born daughter. Back in 1974, ultrasounds weren't available to allow parents to plan ahead and pick out swatches for the baby bed linins. So, when I was born my family was surprised, and a bit relieved, to have a sweet little girl instead of another boy. My dad even cried when he informed his parents that Miss Emily Rose was their newest granddaughter. As I'm sure you can imagine, I received a great amount of attention due to the tiny fact that I was a girl. I'm sure it didn't help matters that I was born on Christmas and was sent home from the hospital in a large, red Christmas Stocking. From that moment on, I was treated like a sweet little girl should be treated (although I'm not too sure how different a boy would be treated. Any newborn child would receive much attention).

The way boys and girls are treated when growing up, definitely is due specifically to their gender. It's most often seen within the walls of a little boy's bedroom the many examples as to what is expected of that child. You may see sports trophies, trucks, trains, and bright colored bins filled with action figures and micro-machines. As you walk into a girls room, the walls would most likely be a pastel pink, yellow or purple with a floral border surrounding the edges, with a netted swing hanging in the corner filled with dollies and stuffed animals, and the heart-shaped toy box in the closet is filled with Barbie's and all their accessories. How rare would it be to hear a boy's room described this way? That in and of itself, should say something about the gender role expectations that we place on our children from the moment they are born.

As the years go by and a child grows up, the expectations never seem to change. There are specific unwritten rules as to how a young man and a young woman are to behave. We as parents, feel that there is a certain criteria for the manner in which a boy is to treat a girl, on a first date, for instance. He is expected to be prompt, courteous, and respectful of the precious daughter he will be in charge of. He is expected to pay for the date, open doors, drive safely, and bring her home sober, happy and ON TIME! Although these expectations may seem overwhelming, it's a fact of life for a young boy seeking the approval of a girls parents. This is just another illustration of how a male's gender role is important to uphold.

Although it may not seem fair or right to place gender expectations on a male or a female, the fact that these predetermined ideas can be changed still remains to be seen. It may do society a world of good if there were no specific expectations placed on individuals as to how they should behave, what toys they can play with, what color they can wear (for babies), what job they can have or even the type of birthday party a child can have. I would love to attend a girl birthday party with a GI-Joe theme, or a boys party with a My-Little-Pony Theme. Unfortunately, these occasions never happen because of the role we expect our children to play.

Maybe there will come a day when we, as a society, can step away from the gender role expectations we so unknowingly place on ourselves, and just expect goodness to be within us instead.

To Tat or Not to Tat? That is the Question.

Last year I added a second tattoo to my collection of body ink-art. I really love the image I chose (after I altered it a bit to suite my taste). The artist was capable enough to enlarge the image I wanted, add a few twinkle stars, and a little more color. Vwalla. I love how bright the colors are here. I'll, for sure, be lathering up with sunscreen this summer to keep the insignia from fading.

Even though I went with stars on my shoulder, I originally wanted to carefully place black stars on the top of my foot. 5 to be exact. One for each of my children and another for my husband (the biggest star in my life!)

I want something a little like this:

Or this...

Maybe this Spring will be the perfect time to gather the many different renditions I have of my favorite shape, and take them to Everlasting Impressions for my finale tattoo. I wonder if this time I will need to bring a leather strap to chew on, so I won't grind my teeth to the bone...I've heard the foot is a killer to be inked over.

Well, wish me luck!

Liz Logelin

Liz Logelin

A few months ago, I sat in a nail salon flipping through a magazine, when I came across the tragic story of the death of this young mother. She had given birth to a beautiful baby girl, and the next day passed away due to a pulmonary embolism.

Liz Logelin died almost a year ago, and the story of this lovely woman can be found here if you care to read more.

Please be aware that this site contains adult material dealing with death and loss. The blogger occasionally uses adult language as he describes his feelings of grief.

The heartbreaking tail of how a new dad is dealing with the death of his wife, and raising a baby by himself, has brought me to tears many times. One afternoon I sat reading about Liz and her tragic death, and Sabrina came into the room wondering why I was crying. All I could say was, "This mommy died right after giving birth to a beautiful baby girl, and she didn't even get to hold her." That's really all I could think about. All the other stuff became a blur as I focused my attention on the idea that after nine months of planning and loving the ever-growing child in her womb, that she didn't even get to hold her. I couldn't fathom the idea of not hugging and kissing the sweet miracle that I just gave birth to. I cried because I didn't want to think about not ever being able to hold my daughters.

Her eyes began to tear and we stood there hugging each other, as if appreciating the gesture that Liz and her daughter were never afforded.

The following is an excerpt of an email that I sent this young widower. Although I had hoped to convey my sympathy, I'm sure it wasn't adequate enough to relieve his pain. I mean, really, how could it?

Dear Matt,

"I just want you to know that there are many readers silently suffering with you. Even if we haven't lost a loved one as you did, we grieve for you anyway as we imagine our lives in your shoes. I can't say that I know what you're going through, and quite frankly, I don't want to, but I CAN say that we draw from your strength. We see you as a symbol of hope. Hope that we too, if ever faced with a similar situation, can be strong. Maybe you don't feel like you are strong, maybe you just see yourself as a person that's just surviving. Well, that too, gives us hope."

Hope. I'm sure this dear widower would rather not be a symbol of anything. I'm sure he'd rather be spending his days holding both of his girls, instead of keeping a blog so his daughter will know who her mother was. Unfortunately, somethings we just don't get to choose.