Now that I’m registered for Blogher 06, I need to start planning the remainder of the details. I looked at the hotel’s website to reserve my room, and I noticed they want to know when the plane arrives so they can be sure to pick me up. So, the room has been put on hold until I have picked out my flight.

I pulled up Expedia to look at flights to San Jose from Columbus, and slowly started to feel my chest getting tight, my palms sweat, and my head feel light. I closed the browser window, recognizing this sensation.

Today’s confession: I have a fear of flying. It’s not so great a fear that I refuse to fly, but I do have some pretty strict guidelines when it comes to choosing my travel.

First, I won’t fly anywhere that I can reasonably drive to. Chicago: 6 hour drive. New York: 8 hour drive. Virginia Beach: 10 hour drive. Florida: 16 hour drive. I’ve done them all versus flying. They are mostly single day drives (we even did the Florida drive in one day once), so I see no reason not to drive. Besides, I enjoy the process of getting there.

There have been places I couldn’t drive to, like when I spent a summer in England. Even then I said that if they’d just build a road to get there, I’d drive it. Obviously, driving out to San Jose in order to spend 4 days there is not reasonable. It would take that many days just to drive there. Plus I’m still taking classes, and I doubt I could take that much time off from my classes. So flying is clearly the logical answer.

Second rule of flying for me is only large jets. I’ve been on one of those damn turbo-props, or as my family calls them, turbo-plops. It was an unfun, nauseating, up and down experience. The larger the jet, the less likely I am to feel every little bump of air, and the more secure I feel.

In order to fly, I must mentally prepare myself weeks in advance. Meditation, relaxation exercises, going over the details in my head, etc. When I went to England, it took me two tries to finally walk down the hallway to board the plane. I walked up to the doorway, handed them my ticket, then asked for it back and walked right back to my mom for one more hug. Deep breath, then I turned around and was successful on the second try.

I also dislike flying due to an inner-ear problem I have. We discovered it when we flew to Florida when I was nine. My ears have a lot of trouble with pressure equalization. Going up isn’t so bad, but going down is painful. The pressure won’t release, and I usually spend several hours after the flight with diminished hearing and one hell of an earache. Nothing a little lot of ibuprofen can’t fix, but still annoying.

I know it’s crazy to be so scared of flying. You can recite the statistics, but I already know them. Yes, more people die in car crashes every year than in plane crashes. It’s not a rational fear. If my car stops working, I can get out and walk. If I’m on a boat and it sinks, I can swim for at least a little while. If the plane stops working, I can’t fly on my own. I guess I’d be less scared if they didn’t travel so far away from the ground.

No worries, this issue will not stop me from going to Blogher. My fear of flying is strong, but not strong enough to keep me from the things I really want to do. I’m just glad that, unlike my trip to England, I’m now (well) over 21, and can beg for alcohol to help me relax just a little bit during the flight.

I thought I was done in my previous post, but it turns out I’m not. I can’t leave this topic alone.

The United States (and Australia) needs to implement a paid parental leave policy. It has been attempted several times, and shot down each and every time. Why? Because businesses are scared of the possible costs in instituting such a program, and they worry that they will lose workers due to paid time off. Also, the rich fatties up in Congress are so far removed from the average American family that they have no idea of the financial struggles a child can produce. I’m sure W would love to see women returning to the home to raise their children (if they’re married, Christian, and not gay, that is), but you can bet he’s not going to provide the funding to make it possible.

Businesses worry that paid leave will cost them, both in money and employees, yet the opposite has proven to be true. The more parental leave benefits a company offers (paid time off, flex-time, telecommuting, etc.), the more likely the employee is to return to their job, and less money and time will be needed to hire and train new employees. Amazing, eh? You take care of your employees, and they will reward you with loyalty!

Now, the American society will inevitably ask the ever important question: what’s in it for them? Sure, providing longer and paid leave will help those who are having the children, there’s no doubt to that. But why should we have to pay for others to stay home with their children?

Much of the answer to that can be found in this document. There are plenty of studies confirming that breastfed children have many long-term benefits from breastfeeding, including stronger immune systems. Women who can establish and continue a breastfeeding relationship with their child will require less sick time to care for their children when they are older. Children will miss less school. And women who are given plenty of time to recover from childbirth will be able to resume their duties with fewer long-term health issues.

Also, forget No Child Left Behind – the truth is that many of our children, especially those in poorer areas, are being left behind in large numbers. Paid leave demonstrates that we as a society care about the well-being of our children. It recognizes that children are the future of the country as the future workforce, and should be considered just as important as today’s employees and employers. If children feel valued, it will likely help their emotional and cognitive development, hopefully resulting in improved grades in school and less teen crime.

However, the United States tends to not think in this kind of way. We focus only on the short-term gain and not on the greater long-term benefits. Even though mothers (and fathers) are raising that next workforce, our labor as parents is considered worthless. There is no immediate benefit from a mother taking a leave from her career to help establish a solid foundation for her children. There is no immediate benefit from a mother choosing to breastfeed her child, and therefore needing a private space to pump at work. An educated woman who chooses to stay home with her children is considered a loss to the economy instead of a benefit for the economy to come.

As mothers, it’s time to step up and defend who we are. Queen of Spain was right: moms are the “in” thing to discuss right now. So let’s use that platform to demand some notice of what we do, and force people to realize that as a country, we are failing our future generations at the moment. We need a national paid parental leave policy. We need greater time off from our jobs to spend with our newborns. We need parenting to be given just as much respect and value as a job as we do doctors, teachers, CEOs, and congressmen. We need a way to help those moms who have NO CHOICE to finally have that choice.

Some of you may have seen MomsRising.org. If not, go there and get involved! (If you’re in Australia, you can also go here to get involved in your country’s fight for paid leave.) If you’re in the privileged class, use that privilege to help your fellow woman. If you are a woman with no choice, speak out about it any chance you get.

It reduces me to tears to know that there are so many mothers out there who want so much to be there for their children, but feel they can only half-ass it because they have no choice but to work. My own mother was in that situation, and I still hear the guilt in her voice when we are together. She has nothing at all to be guilty about.

*deep breath* OK, I think the rant is finished. For the moment.

Ladies, I think we have some work to do.

Remember that article by Linda Hirshman that caused the fury late last year? The one about the feminist elite choosing to ditch their executive jobs for motherhood? The “Opt-Out Revolution” where women were now choosing to stay home with their kids instead of continue on the fast track for their careers? I thought you might remember that. It sparked a lot of debate over SAHMs vs. WOHMs, including bringing up the dreaded Mommy Wars.

But I have something different to say today. Another aspect of the debate, one that is less often talked about.

For some women, there is no debate, no choice.

The role of motherhood in the United States is that of a second-class citizen. Oh sure, we have Mother’s Day, but for those who aren’t privileged, being a mom makes life more difficult for those other 364 days a year.

To begin with, the United States has a reprehensible parental leave policy. 12 weeks unpaid leave is granted to us through FMLA, but even that only applies to those working for larger companies. That’s unpaid leave, meaning all they do is guarantee you’ll have a job to come back to in 12 weeks. Of the industrialized nations of the world, only the US and Australia do NOT provide paid parental leave for the birth of a child. (And Australia provides one year of job protection.)

What woman who lives in a tiny apartment, works for just over minimum wage, and struggles to pay the bills has the luxury to take 12 weeks off of work unpaid? Many of these women have to give birth and then get right back to work. For those who do have the ability to take 12 weeks, is that really enough time? Do we as a country really feel that our young are ready, at 3 months old, to be handed off to someone who is only paid to care for them?

And then there is daycare. $1,000 a month is the average cost in most cities for full time care at a licensed daycare center. It’s even higher in many places. For a family with two adults making minimum wage, that cost is more than 2/3 of their monthly income. Even for a family making $50,000 a year, that’s just under 1/3 of their monthly income (figuring in taxes). Even for middle-class families, the cost of daycare is a struggle.

If you can’t afford a daycare center, there’s always private babysitters. But now you’re taking a bigger risk for your child’s care. Many babysitters have no licenses and no specialized training in child care. Plus, it’s a private home, so you have no one to check in to make sure your child is being cared for properly.

Some might argue that we have the Flexible Spending Accounts in place to help with daycare. Well yes, but it’s just a savings account – you still must have money to put into it in order to reap the benefits. If you need every last cent from your paycheck, a FSA won’t help at all.

So then there is a choice. If you can’t afford daycare, then stay home and it’ll balance out. Ah, it’s not that simple. For this case in point, I shall use myself. Aaron and I made decent money together working full-time. Cordy joined us, and due to work screwing me out of benefits, I took my 12 week leave and then was forced to put her in daycare at 3 months old. The mental and financial costs were very heavy on us. Sure, we were still paying the bills, but suddenly we were no longer able to devote any money to future savings, and unexpected expenses went to the credit card.

We looked at our finances. Two people working full-time with daycare was getting us nowhere. But if I quit working, we wouldn’t have enough to meet the bills. Some would argue that if you really wanted to do it, you could. Sure, we could sell the house we just bought and live in a small apartment, but again, we would be getting nowhere. And thanks to the quirkiness of the Columbus market, rent is nearly as high as our mortgage payment. We were stuck, and there was no good choice.

Thank goodness we have family. Our current situation is I work part-time, and our family pitches in to help watch Cordy the days I work. We’re still financially at the same place we would be if we both worked full-time, but the advantage is that we’re not paying strangers to care for Cordelia. And I would consider us privileged – just think how much harder it is for those who have no choice at all, due to finances or being a single parent.

So to those fighting the Mommy Wars, I want you all to stop for a minute. Stop fighting over your choice to be a SAHM or your choice to enjoy your career. Stop arguing for the fact that thanks to feminism we women have the choice to work or stay home with our kids. Think for a moment about those who have NO CHOICE. Those who would love nothing more than to spend more time with their child, but due to financial constraints and a lack of laws protecting them, must instead hand their child over to someone else who they hope will care for that child properly and return to their low-paying job whether they want to or not. They have no choice. Feminism, and the United States government, do not protect them and do not give them choice.

Shouldn’t we be fighting for them? Shouldn’t we be arguing for parental leave reform and greater assistance with child care? We know it can work – it’s already working in so many other countries. It’s time that motherhood be recognized as something valid and worthy of this country’s time, assistance and appreciation. We are the ones raising the next generation, and yet as mothers we are treated as second-class citizens.

We know mothers are fierce. Now let’s turn our attack towards those who see no value in motherhood (or parenthood for that matter – you dads out there deserve just as much respect). It’s time to make sure we all have CHOICE.

Carrcakes inspired my post today. She has a beautiful post about her relationship with her siblings, and how it has changed and stayed the same over the years. Go check it out. I’ll wait. Ready? OK.

I am an only child.

Raised by a divorced mom who worked full time, I spent many days of my youth alone. I had a babysitter when I was very young, but I soon fought for the right to become a latchkey kid, and my mom granted the privilege when I was in third grade. By middle school I was staying home by myself even when she worked 3-11pm shifts.

Some people say only children are misfits. They are selfish and spoiled, and often are loners lacking in social skills yet terribly lonely. I think this is a gross oversimplification of only children, and I’m sure many grew up with none of those issues. From my experience, only some of the stereotypes are true. I was certainly not spoiled, because my mom didn’t have a lot with which to spoil me. I did lack in social skills, but only amongst my peers. I was quite capable of carrying on a conversation with adults, but found my peers to be immature and boring. I was lonely at times, but I also found comfort in being alone, and enjoyed the peace of the silence in our house many nights as I sat on the couch and read a book.

Still, I could never shake the desire of wanting a sibling. My childhood best friend had two older siblings, and they fought like caged wild animals at times. But at least she had someone to fight with. Me, well, I could try picking a fight with the cat I guess. I dreamed I would get help with my homework from an older sibling, or I would teach a younger sibling to play my favorite games. I imagined it would be lovely to have someone around to talk to who didn’t have to go home for dinner.

And now I find myself thinking about my daughter. She is currently an only child, and Aaron and I have been discussing when to plan the next child. Part of me is scared about the thought of raising two children. I have no experience dealing with siblings – how will I handle their fights? Will Cordelia resent another child coming along and taking some of the attention away from her? Will we not be able to provide as much for Cordy with another child?

As an only child, my mom was able to devote her limited resources to just me. Had I had a brother or sister, I might not have been able to go to college as easily, or been given the help my mom has provided with Cordy. Am I limiting her by having another child?

The other part of me yearns for another baby. I love being a mother, and I know there is plenty of room in my heart for another child. I remember the lonely times of being an only child, the awkwardness around my peers, and I don’t want Cordy to experience those dark moments of an only child experience.

I also think that Cordy could benefit from a sibling. Look at how many people out there have siblings they are close with. Aaron and his brother get along very well, although he tells me that they didn’t get along nearly as well when they were younger. There are lots of useful learning experiences a sibling could help provide: sharing, resource management, taking turns, helping, parental manipulation, etc.

The plan to have another child is likely to move forward. We both want another baby. The grandparents want more grandkids. Everyone is in agreement. I only hope Cordelia will love any younger sibling that comes along, and that she won’t one day wish that she had been an only child.

What about you? Were you an only child or did you have siblings? Do you wish things had turned out differently for you? (more siblings, less siblings, none?)

A few weeks ago, I arrived home and noticed a light blue car driving slowly down the street. It was a large Olds or Caddy or some other old-lady-mobile. As I got out of the car, I noticed the other car inching closer to the house. I opened the back door and started to get Cordy out of her car seat, when the car suddenly picked up speed and quickly turned into my driveway. No big deal, I thought. We’re at the end of the street, and lots of people turn into our driveway to turn around.

But then an older lady jumped out of the car and walked up to me. She introduced herself as the Avon rep. for the neighborhood and asked if she could leave a catalog with me. I, of course, am trying to get a tired toddler out of the car, and really don’t have time to talk, so I quickly accept just to get her to leave. Plus, my family purchases lotion and other items from Avon every now and then, so I thought maybe I’d find something sometime.

Wrong decision. Upon accepting that first catalog, she whipped out her little notebook and asked for my name, phone number, address, and blood type. (Just kidding about the last one. Or am I?) So, while holding a semi-awake, unhappy toddler, I blurted out all of the information just to get inside. She mentioned she’d give me a call in a week or so to see if I had an order.

Well, this Thursday, I was taking Cordy out to the car to go to the park. It was a beautiful morning, and the street was quiet. I strapped Cordy into her car seat, and then as I shut the door I was surprised to find the light-blue old-lady-mobile in the driveway blocking us in. What the…where the hell did she COME from?? I swear she appeared out of nowhere.

“Hi, I was just wondering if you had an order to place?”

“Um, uh, no, not yet. I have looked through the catalog, but I haven’t decided on anything.”

“No? Well, when do you think you will have an order ready?”

“Uh, I’m not sure. I’ve been very busy lately, so I haven’t had time to really sit down and think about it. I mean, I do have a toddler and I work as well.”

“Oh, honey, that’s nothing. I’m watching my two grandkids today.”(no kids in the car)”So you think you’ll have your decision in a few days?”

“I don’t know. I’m busy. Listen, I’ll give you a call when I’m ready, OK?”

She agreed and finally let us leave the driveway. Even though she was a little pushy, I find it hard to be mean to older people. It’s something I need to work on, I guess, because Saturday morning, as I was loading Cordy into the car, I felt the presence of the light-blue car. Sure enough, there was the white-haired lady, standing next to her car that was blocking me in again. How does she DO that? Is she waiting around the corner, watching for me with spy binoculars or something? Do Avon ladies sell their souls to the devil for that power?

“Hi, honey, I was wondering if you’ve had time to ready an order?”

“No, not yet. I told you, I’m busy, and I just haven’t had the time.”

(You’d have thought I killed her grandkids by the look on her face.) “Oh, well, I’m leaving for Pigeon Forge on Monday, and I was hoping you’d have your order ready.”

“I promise I’ll call if I have an order for you, OK? I’ll just leave you a message while you’re gone if I think of anything.”

“Well, if the power goes out, our messages get erased and I’d miss it.”

“I’ll take that chance.”

I tell her I must leave, and she grudgingly lets me pass. I am being stalked by the Avon Lady. Anytime I leave the house, I glance around, looking for her car, wondering if she’s going to magically appear in my driveway. She’s worse than a car salesman after you test drive a car. (Do they EVER stop calling?) At least the car salesman doesn’t come to your house.

I was thinking of ordering some sunscreen, but I wonder if that will only encourage her? I feel trapped in the Avon Lady’s grasp. I had no idea accepting a catalog would lead to this.

In the past, I had considered trying a direct-sales work-from-home plan instead of working outside the home. But I now know: I would never make it in the direct-sales field. Not if I have to compete against the likes of women like the Avon Lady with demonic powers of appearing out of nowhere and a personality comparable to sandpaper.

You know, when I’ve thought about the danger of being stalked, I never imagined it quite like this. What does this say about my life, when I’m stalked by the Avon Lady and not by a young psycho guy?