Posted by Kimberly on October 9th, 2007 — Posted in Oncology Odyssey, Blah Blah Blog
All four of you.
Just a little PSA to let you know that that whack of entries that showed up in your feed over the weekend isn’t exactly new content. The entries–all filed under Oncology Odyssey–are the chronicle of Regan’s Tumour. They came from a now defunct blog and are posted here because they’re special to me.
So, don’t freak out. The Zen Baby is fine. Feel free to read the entries though; it’ll give a lot of insight into the ways I talk about (and parent) my youngest daughter.
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Posted by Kimberly on October 5th, 2007 — Posted in Uncategorized, Kipple, iVillage
Today is a doors and windows kind of day.
The doors, they are closing.
First, iVillage fired me. Ok, not a huge shock there, given what I’ve said about them here. And it really wasn’t that much of a blow. My contract did not allow me to quit, so getting fired was the only way out of my contract, and one that I’ve pretty much been encouraging them to take ever since they made it clear that Sanity and the Solo Mom was going to become part of The Daily Mom with or without my consent. But still, nobody really likes to be fired, no matter how much they were asking for it.
Then, I had a business call. I was pretty nervous because it was my very first business call for a blog idea that I thought of and developed all by myself. A big step in the life of a budding freelancer. On some levels–the ones where I didn’t sound like a blithering idiot–it was a very successful experience. They thought the idea was great, and that it would be a wonderful fit for their company. Unfortunately, they’d just spent a tonne of money on a redesign of their site and just didn’t have it in the budget to take on my idea right now.
So, in addition to getting fired, I didn’t get hired. Yep, that’s the sound of doors closing, alright.
The windows, however, don’t seem to be flinging themselves open quite yet. Maybe I just have to be patient. Man, I hate that.
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Posted by Kimberly on October 5th, 2007 — Posted in Diva Girl, Kipple
The idea that in some corners of the world, malnutrition is rampant, and children go hungry not because they’ve turned up their noses at what mom has prepared for dinner, but because there is no dinner is a hard concept to grasp when you’re not old enough to watch the evening news. If it can be imagined at all, it’s as some mythical “over there,” a place far removed from the comforts of Western life in the Twenty First Century. The idea that these starving children might live, not in some remote African village, but in the apartment next door is nearly incomprehensible.
My children are lucky. Despite our occasionally precarious situation, they have always been well cared for. We have never been homeless. They have nice clothes and toys to play with. They have always had enough to eat.
Except for today. Today, Diva Girl will not have enough to eat. Today, she will be hungry.
Her lunchbox is sitting here on the counter, not filled and forgotten, but empty and left behind, just like the lunchboxes of all the other students at her school. Today for lunch they aren’t having PB&J or cheese sandwiches or even Lunchables. Today, Sabrina’s school learns what it is to not have enough food. Today they learn about hunger.
Social justice is a very big part of the Catholic curriculum, and it’s something that they want the kids to live, not simply learn. So today they are having a “hunger lunch” as an object lesson in the impact of poverty.
They won’t be completely starved–the school is providing each student with a bowl of soup to get them through the day–but there are no granola bars, cheese and crackers, dunkaroos, or juice boxes. Not even a piece of fruit to help get them through the day. Soup and bread, that’s it. And that’s still more than many children have, when you think about it.
I hope Diva Girl does think about it. I’ve always prided myself in the fact that Sabrina doesn’t know we’re poor, but today when she brings her grumbling belly home I think I’d like her to begin to understand that but for the grace of God, a generous family, and an adequate social safety net, that empty feeling would be something she’d be very, very familiar with by now, and not some sort of radical school experiment.
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Posted by Kimberly on October 3rd, 2007 — Posted in Uncategorized, Kipple, iVillage
One of the basic concepts of blogging is the construction of identity. Every blogger creates one, an online persona that reflects those aspects of themselves that they choose to reveal in the blogosphere. We are all to some extent constructs, and one of the great freedoms of the blogosphere is that we all get to decide on our own pigeonholes, rather than allowing other people to decide who we are and where we belong.
The other basic concept is one of authorship. In the blogosphere, everyone is a writer and everyone has the opportunity to tell their own story. This is why plagiarism is so frowned upon in the blogging community–it’s understood that we all tell our own stories here, not someone else’s. The corollary is that we also understand that we are the ones telling our stories; while the idea of a ghost writer might seem attractive when staring at a blank computer screen with no idea how to fill it, it’s understood that this is not kosher. Guest blogging, by all means. But ghost blogging? Not so much. It’s a violation of the basic agreement, that while the blogger may not be giving you a completely factual account of reality, what she is writing is, at its core, real.
All of this philosophizing is to place in context the very real sense of violation I felt when I realized that iVillage had taken it upon themselves to create an identity for me by rewriting my bio page without my knowledge or consent. I never would have known if Eden hadn’t emailed and asked if I’d suffered some sort of traumatic brain injury.
I didn’t know they were redoing the bios. Nobody asked me for a new one, so I’d just assumed that they’d use the same old one they’ve always had up. To be honest, it’s not like I much cared. But I do care about being misrepresented, which I have been. Grossly. It wouldn’t have been quite so bad if they’d written the thing in the third person, but instead they cannibalized just enough of my original blurb to make it seem like I’m the one speaking.
The problem is, whoever tried to impersonate me has clearly never met me, and quite probably has never read Sanity and the Solo Mom. If she had, I’m reasonably certain that ridiculous statements like these wouldn’t have made their way into my About Me:
“Parenting without a partner is quite the adventure and, like other solo adventures, it’s a bit scarier to do alone. Sometimes it would be nice to have someone to share the adventure with, but mostly it’s exciting to hike up the mountain, carrying all your gear, knowing that you did it by yourself.”
“Having no one to share it with, well, it’s a mixed blessing.”
“I say Solo Momming is a fair bit like the regular kind of Momming.”
On some level, each one of these statements flies in the face of who I am, what I believe, how I live my life, and the entire philosophy behind the old Sanity and the Solo Mom, which is clearly even less in line with its host company than I’d always suspected.
For one thing, I’ve never said “Solo Momming is a fair bit like the regular kind of Momming.” I don’t believe that. The entire theme of my blog works against that concept. It’s always been my contention that the “momming” is what we have in common, it’s not what sets us all apart. There’s no such thing as “regular momming;” we’re all moms. Period. Not to mention the fact that as an English teacher I’m not that into random capitalization and I’d never use an inane pseudoword like “momming,”
I’ve also never said “having no one to share it with, well, it’s a mixed blessing.” While I’m gratified that that sentence is at least well written, it’s still a misconstruction of what I said in my very first post for iVillage. Essentially, what I said there was that it’s hard, knowing no one will ever love your kids as much as you do, that there isn’t anyone as invested in those small, seemingly insignificant moments that comprise the fabric of family as you are, but that the flip side of that is the complete control you have over the definition and shape of that family. I never said it was a blessing, mixed or otherwise. It’s not. It simply is what it is.
The worst though is that whole part about “scarier to do it alone” and “would be nicer to have a partner.” That just pisses me the hell off. Anyone who has talked to me about parenting, family, and my life for ten seconds would know that that is not me.
First of all, I find the idea of parenting with a partner both incomprehensible and terrifying. I LIKE being a solo parent, and the shape that gives to my life. Furthermore, since I’ve always parented my children alone, I have no idea if it’s scarier or not. Personally, I think not; the idea of sharing those responsibilities and adding another personality into the complex arrangement of parenthood and family leaves me in a cold sweat.
And for the record, I don’t think “it would be nicer to have a partner.” If I wanted a partner, I’d have one. Unlike my unnamed ghost writer, I feel no need to get my ticket to respectability and to get my ass on the ark. I like living alone. I like being alone. Even on the rare occasions when I do go out on a date, it’s really less about him, and more about me. I’m not looking for mate when I go out with Facebook Guy; I’m looking for an opportunity to go out and enjoy the woman behind the mom. Really, the gender of the companion pales in comparison to the quality of the company so far as I’m concerned. Boyfriend, girl friend, for me, it’s just about an evening out, not about freeing myself from my pathetic state of spinsterhood.
As you can see, the person I am and the persona iVillage has decided to package me as are not exactly in agreement. In fact, I’m not sure I even like that woman. Which is kind of a problem, seeing as how I like me a great deal. Yet another good reason why I have this space of my own, I guess, where I can continue to be me, regardless of the changes iVillage would like to make to my lifestyle and self esteem to make me better fit their construction of what a single mom should be.
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