9/11: A Mom Remembers

I don't remember what I was doing the exact moment the plane flew into the first tower. I had a 20-month-old, so I was probably changing a diaper, cleaning up spilled cheerios, or performing Itsy Bitsy Spider for the seventh time that morning.

I happened to turn on the TV right after the initial crash. At that point, the "Today Show" was still calling it an accident. I saw live coverage of the second plane hitting the second tower. I guess Matt Lauer, Katie Couric and I realized at the same time that our country was under attack.

In my previous life in the corporate arena, I had visited the World Trade Center for a business meeting. As a 20-something woman from Iowa, I was terrified of navigating New York City solo. My company sprung for me to stay in the swanky Marriott World Trade Center Hotel, so I only had to take a cab from the airport to the WTC and back. The hotel was connected to both towers. It had reopened only a few months prior to my visit, having suffered extensive damage from the 1993 WTC bombing.

Knowing I would be staying at the site of a recent terrorist attack contributed to my uneasiness about the trip. It was eerie, and I couldn't wait to get out of there. I never would've guessed that--just six years later--the hotel (and the rest of the World Trade Center) would be obliterated by a far worse attack.

On September 11, 2001, Hubs was in North Dakota on business. As I watched the events of that day unfold, it became clear to me that Hubs would not be flying home. Somehow, amid the chaos and growing number of stranded travelers, he was able to rent a car and drive the 12 hours back to Iowa.

As a toddler, Son was blissfully unaware of most things taking place outside of our home. Lucky him; he had no clue our country had just been rocked to its core. But my 7-year-old niece would surely have questions when she came home from school. My sister (her mother) had passed away in January of that year, so my niece was living with us. I wondered if she'd heard about the morning's events while at school.

She had. And, as expected, she was full of questions--questions I couldn't begin to answer. Why would somebody want to kill people they don't even know? Why did they pick our country? Why did they pick today?

Will they do it again?

A week later, I found out I was pregnant with Daughter. With our country in a state of devastation, anger and confusion, I could've easily freaked about bringing another baby into this messed up world. But I didn't. Yes, our country had been caught with its guard down. Depending on which account you choose to believe, we had no idea what was coming, or we failed to heed the warnings. Either way, the 9/11 attacks brought to light some weaknesses in our government's defense strategies and communication policies. We are no longer such an easy target. They knocked us down, but they didn't knock us out. And we're stronger for it.

I can't think of a better, safer time to live in the United States.

Aurora--A Parent's Perspective

I try to blog at least once a month, but this month has been a challenge. I was all set to post about my break-up with Son (more on that later), or the duct tape purse business I've started with Daughter (more on that later, too), but the massacre in Aurora has been heavy on my mind. Posting my usual sarcastic fluff feels wrong when a tragic event has just rocked our country.

I don't have any profound statement to ease people's pain. Nothing will help a sane person understand this insanity. All I can do is share my perspective as a parent, for what it's worth.

Up until a few months ago, the shooter was in medical school. That anyone would commit mass murder is shocking. But I'm truly mystified that someone who studied to care for people is now responsible for 12 intentional deaths. Somewhere on his path to the Hippocratic Oath (frst, do no harm), he instead became a hypocrite, choosing to hurt rather than heal. How does that happen? We want answers. We want to know what turns a seemingly normal person into a mass murderer. We want to know how we can prevent it from happening again. Whatever set James Holmes on his murderous course, we can't blame his parents.

I don't think any parent sets out to raise a killer. Most of us do the best we can and pray our kids will become decent human beings despite our parenting blunders. If a 24-year-old man doesn't realize by now it's wrong to gun down innocent victims, his parents are hardly at fault. By all accounts, his mother and father are ordinary, well-respected, contributing members of society. Of course they are standing by their son. He's their son. That doesn't mean they condone his actions. I'm sure they'd like to crawl under a rock and stay there until the next lunatic--who isn't their child--monopolizes the headlines. Without a doubt, their lives are ruined; add them to the list of people injured by their son's senseless act.

Internet commenters are up in arms because six-year-old Veronica Moser-Sullivan was at a midnight showing of "The Dark Knight Rises." (Please don't ask me at what tender age I let my dino-loving son watch "Jurassic Park." Other than an affinity for Rick Astley's "Never Gonna Give You Up," Son seems to be turning out OK anyway.) We all make parenting choices that give others pause but, as they face the unbearable task of burying their baby girl, Veronica's parents need our compassion, not our self-righteous judgement.

Veronica Moser-Sullivan, 6-year-old victim of the Aurora shooting

If I take my kid out of school to go to Disney World and--God forbid--she gets killed by a maniac, is it fair to vilify me as a shitty mother? Everyone's entitled to their opinion, but I hope that little angel's mother never comes across those posts essentially blaming her for her daughter's death. Unfortunately, she probably will, and that will just compound the horrible guilt she will feel ... just because she took her young daughter to see a PG-13 movie at midnight.

One final note: I was so touched to hear about the three men who were killed because they shielded their girlfriends. As a parent, I hope my daughter finds a man who would put her first like that, and I hope my son becomes a man like that.

Who's Your Daddy?

I had intended to write this post prior to Father's Day (two days ago) so Hubs could read it on his special day and bask in his own awesomeness. But I procrastinated. Luckily, I found other ways to make him feel loved. (wink, wink) Now that I've burned that mental picture onto your brain ...

Dear Son and Daughter,

You know your dad; he's that freakishly tall, dark-haired man that blames his farts on the dogs. But there's so much more under that handsome (and sometimes smelly) exterior.

Did you know your dad leaves for work before 6 a.m. every day so he can get home by 6 p.m. to maximize his time with you? Yes, after putting in a 12-hour workday, your dad still manages to coach your soccer team, Daughter, and help you, Son, with your math homework that gives Mommy hives.

Your dad is an international man of mystery, in that he travels around the world frequently for work, yet he still gets excited about going to Disney World with us. And, get this: Daddy's been known to fly home from Italy and then drive us on a road trip the very next day--jet lag and all--while Mommy catches up on her People Magazines in the passenger seat.The most mystifying thing is that he never complains. Never.


Son and Hubs enjoying a rainy day at Dollywood

You probably don't remember when Daddy went back to school to get his MBA ... while he was working full time and traveling like crazy. Somehow he still found the energy to attend school events and play countless rounds of Go Fish.



Daughter and Hubs before their annual daddy/daughter dance

Did you see your dad kicking back this Father's Day with a well-deserved beer and his favorite business bestseller? Of course not, because he was helping Grandma prepare for her garage sale and upcoming move. Then he took you two swimming and spent the afternoon setting up a sports paradise in the backyard. So, he spent his special day doing things for the people he loves.

Daughter and Hubs setting up backyard games

In case you don't think this stuff makes your dad exceptional, just look around. Plenty of dads can barely hold down jobs. And those dads who do work hard? Lots of them would rather spend their free time doing man stuff, not hanging with their kids. Don't even get me started on "dads" who never see their kids. Yeah, when it comes to dads, yours is the gold standard.

Now, go clean your rooms.

Love, Mommy

Happy Mother's Day. Here's Your Spray Cheese!

Dear family,

When it comes to gifts, I know I always say it's the thought that counts. But, if you're thinking about giving me any of the following for Mother's Day, please think again.

Redneck Snack Basket

Look, I can appreciate the merits of spray cheese, and SPAM holds a special place in my childhood memories. But, if you give me a basket of redneck snacks for Mother's Day, you may end up missing teeth like a redneck.

 

Free Wings at Hooters

Obviously, nothing says "Mother's Day" like boobs and chicken wings, but don't take me to Hooters ... ever.

Sex Toys

This seems like a real hot deal, but no. Sex is what got me in this predicament in the first place. Besides, I could just see Daughter mistaking my new flavored lube for hand sanitizer.

By the way, if a company can't even spell fantasies correctly, their products aren't getting anywhere near my hoo-ha.

Beer of the Month Club

Better yet, just stop giving me so many reasons to drink.

NASCAR Ride

I don't have a need for speed. Plus, how am I supposed to put on my eyeliner in a car going that fast?

White Water Rafting Adventure

I have no desire to hurl myself at sharp rocks with an inflatable dinghy thingy as my only buffer. Do black people even go rafting? I mean, it's called white water rafting for a reason, right?

I don't mean to sound picky. I'm sure I'll love whatever I ordered for myself last month and told you to count as my Mother's Day gift.

Extreme Makeover: Wedding Vows Edition

Look at us: So young, so innocent, so clueless.

Today is our 13th wedding anniversary, which got me thinking about the traditional vows we made. They were romantic and all, but knowing what I know now, they didn't really touch on major issues we face in our marriage. These are the vows I should have said:

I, Ivy, take you, Hubs, to be my lawfully wedded husband, to have and to hold in bed at least 3 nights a week (and on your birthday). I vow to love you with all my heart, in good times and bad ... such as when you're listening to hideous '80s hair bands.

For better or for worse, I will wash the whites in a timely manner so you do not run out of undies. For richer and for poorer (but still able to afford frequent trips to Disney World), I am forever yours.

In sickness and in health and in times when we're just sick of each other, I promise to love your badly written Facebook posts, honor your need for peanut M&Ms, and cherish the made-up words you use in Boggle. 

From this day forward, I will only talk during movies and TV shows when I have really insightful observations to make. Finally, my beloved husband, I promise to not touch Robert Downey, Jr.,  until death do us part--at which time, all bets are off.