Education
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• Ruining Childhood With The Truth

  

  Childhood is a blissful time of naïve innocence. That is unless you are living in abject poverty, or a war torn country, or a town where racism is the social norm, or a place where they sell girls off as child brides – so basically for everyone except those billion kids.

  But for my Aryan looking privileged child, things could be pretty idealistic for her – that is of course if she didn’t have me as a mom.

  See how there’s balance in this cold dark universe after all?

  I try to keep it real with The Munch because I think she’s emotionally capable of understanding complex ideas, and also because I have no interest in raising an entitled asshole. Yet I can see how my parenting can infringe on The Munch’s potential to believe the world is a benign, benevolent place. “Yes Munch, bumble bees are fuzzy, and they’re being systematically destroyed by Monsanto’s pesticides, threatening a global pandemic of potential mass extinction.” Trust me. She get’s it. “That is a police siren sweetie, and yes they are here to protect us.. but we also can’t forget that the legal system is inherently corrupt, the prison industrial complex exploits millions of Americans as slave labor for private companies, and inherent bias has resulted in the murders of thousands of innocent black men.

  Although I want The Munch to maintain her youthful idealism, I also think it’s important she knows that Santa Clause is a physical manifestation of excessive materialism. It’s a delicate balance right?

  The Munch is a sensitive creature, and some of the information I tell her does impact her ability to enjoy things. For example, when in our small town they explode the fake missiles that mock the horror of the other countries we routinely bomb… wait, I’m sorry. That was my auto correct. I mean fireworks. When they light the fireworks, they set up a raft on the lake to light them from. Yet as a result, all the trash from the fireworks ends up falling into the lake, polluting it. I just happened to mention that to Munch, and then the whole time she was watching the fireworks, on her birthday mind you, every time she saw the debris dwindling into the lake, she would cover her eyes in dismay. “I can’t watch Mama. It’s so terrible for the environment. Those poor fishies. All that trash and chemicals poisoning them.”

  You may be asking yourself, “Are you a monster Toni? Ruining fireworks for your 7-year old… on her birthday?” Well… it’s not my fault. My mom raised me! This is a woman who gave me an NWA tape when I was 7-years old so I could “learn about politics.” The same woman that insisted we listen to the assassination of the Romanian dictator Ceausescu on Christmas… AS A FAMILY… WHEN I WAS 9 YEARS OLD!

  I’m not the only one doing this to her! When my mom plays dolls with The Munch they have a character who’s a Syrian refugee named Toni who lost her eye in the war, and now wears an eye patch. Another doll, Violet, is confined to a wheel chair because she stepped on a landmine… and she’s also an orphan that must be taken care of by the other children who’s parent’s died as casualties of war. I can hear my mom “playing” with The Munch and going through the narrative about their ships being turned around by the evil right wing, leaving these dolls to drown in the ocean.

  So yeah… maybe the Munch isn’t exactly having a “normal” childhood, but at least she’s being informed of geo-politics!

  The refugee baby dolls Toni and Violet (PS that top picture is perhaps my favorite picture of all time of The Munch when she was 2… learning about police brutality)

  

  

  July 6, 2017 • 7 years old, Children, Current Events, Education, Emotions, Environmental Impact, Family Drama, Kids, Mommyhood, Parenting, Political Banter • Views: 2612

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• I Can’t Play With You!!

  

  It’s really hard to play with my kid. My brain has been corrupted by adulthood. I no longer have an imagination that can travel off to distant lands where vampire kitties can fly. I don’t know how to lose myself in a fantasy world because the so-called real world in front of me is so goddamn consuming. All my imagination has transmuted into anxiety about the end of humanity and trying desperately to envision a future where I no longer torture myself with endless craving. HAVE I MADE IT YET?

  Playing with The Munch is challenging. As she’s busy making up a world where bunnies pick daffodils made of sugar, I’m instead obsessing about how Mitch McConnell is to blame for the Trump presidency. I can’t lose myself in the moment, and keep trying to make the chipmunks talk about universal health care.

  It’s my own fault though. When you have an only child, you end up having to play with them more than if you had more kids. In many ways having one kid is MUCH easier as a parent. I have more freedom. It’s easier to find childcare. If I asked you to watch my one kid for the afternoon you’d most likely say yes. But if I asked you to watch my 3 kids for ten minutes you would probably lie to get out of it right? I think there is a major misconception that having more kids doesn’t make that much of a difference because you already have one – so why not add a few more? NOPE WRONG! The difference between having one kid and two is almost as profound as having zero kids and one. The amount of need you deal with is added exponentially with each kid. The equation is something like one child squared to the 10th power.

  Yet when you have a bigger family, the kids are more of a pack. They play together leaving you more free time to yourself to clean up after them. I don’t have that. Lucky for me The Munch has many friends and plenty of play dates, but there are inevitable moments where she looks to me to be the one to act out scene 7 of the mermaids that are astronauts’ saga.

  But you guys…. I think I have the answer to satisfy my inability to free my mind from the burden of hyper awareness about the destruction of world, and my daughter’s insistence on playing with me… a solution besides getting really high I mean.

  We now play political games.

  These games have been a profound journey because I get to learn what my 6-year old thinks about political policy. It is both equally awe inspiring and depressing.

  The Munch: Okay so Ariel the mermaid is a princess, so that means she’s royalty.
  Toni: What does it mean to be royalty?
  The Munch: It means you have to be kind and gentle and you have to like solving problems. Oh, and you have to love everybody.
  Toni: How do you become royal?
  The Munch: Well Ariel’s dad was royal and his dad was royal and his dad was royal and his dad was royal…
  Toni: Who was the first royal person though? Why did they need royalty.
  The Munch: Because everything was so confusing and the mermaids wanted someone to help create solutions to problems.
  Toni: I see. In the human world royalty is kind of different – so I like what the mermaids are doing.
  The Munch: What do the human royals care about?
  Toni: Mostly power, that’s why the humans have so many wars.
  The Munch: The mermaids have wars too. But they are silly wars.
  Toni: What’s a silly war?
  The Munch: Well, there are no weapons because they are too dangerous. They don’t want to hurt the other animals or fish in the ocean with war and weapons. So it’s a splash tail war. They just splash each other with their tails on the top of he water… like this.
  Toni: That makes a lot of sense.
  The Munch: So how were the first people made?
  Toni: How do you think the first people were made.
  The Munch: Ummm I think there was a ghost lady that has always been here – she’s never been born or anything. And that ghost lady created all the people and the earth and the planet and the stars and the mermaids.
  Toni: You’re probably right.

  This is the set up for tonight’s game. It’s called “Hey congress, rape is not a pre-existing condition.”

  

  May 18, 2017 • 6 years old, Behavior, Children, Current Events, Education, Family Drama, Kids, Mommyhood, Parenting, Playing, Political Banter, Talking and Not Talking • Views: 2849

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• Raising a Little Conformist

  

  When you have a baby, and that baby cries, it’s not trying to manipulate you. An infant cries because it has a genuine need, and that’s its only mode of communication. The first year of parenting is simple in that way. Your baby cries, so you address their relatively basic problems. (I’m hungry, I’m tired, I have to fart, I have a shit in my pants). But as soon as your kid becomes a toddler and understands that it’s screaming can make you do things you don’t want to do – but will do anyway just to shut them up – you bet your sweet ass that kid is going to exploit the shit out of your weaknesses.

  Once your child is no longer a baby, you have to start considering a discipline strategy, and how you are going to condition them. You’re not just raising a kid, but a future adult you’re going to have to deal with for the rest of your life. There is a major shift of consciousness that has to place for the parent making this transition. Figuring out how and when to say “no” to your child is more complex than you’d think. You don’t want to give into all your kid’s demands because then your kid will be an asshole when they grown up. But when you push back and deny your kid of what they want… they turn into a serious fucking asshole right in front of your goddamn face.

  Modern parents are all products of the baby boomer generation and I love you guys, but you were kind of neglectful parents in a lot of ways. LOVELY people those baby boomers… but I’m pretty sure I’m not the only person in my 30’s who was raised by a Television. Probably why the Bill Cosby story was such a hard roofie-cocktail to swallow – it was like finding out your Dad was a rapist. HOW COULD YOU DO THIS TO US DADDY!!!!

  So a lot of us who are parenting now are doing so in direct reaction to feeling slightly abandoned as children. Yet with every pendulum swing, a lot of times things go wayyy too far in the other direction. As children we may have been latchkey kids, but we also had independence, which was crucial. Today’s kids can hardly even pick their noses without parental supervision. We’re so afraid that our kids won’t feel cared for, that we don’t give them any space to figure out the world on their own.

  The same thing goes for discipline. There has been a major shift of thinking regarding how to deal with a kid’s emotional outbursts. Spanking is now ONLY appropriate between two consenting adults in the bedroom. Most of us can agree that yelling at a child is ineffective and cruel. Ignoring your kid only makes them create more havoc to get your attention. Yet rationalizing with a young child is bit like talking to Donald Trump. There are moments when they speak complete sentences and seem to understand you, but then they just say random words and make funny faces.

  In my personal parenting journey I have been working with two concepts. One idea is that I want The Munch to know she is allowed to have emotions, and doesn’t have to not feel the pressure to “always be happy” or “suck it up.” I am a new age hippy who drinks water filtered by moon beams, so of course I my want my kid to be connected to her emotional self and explore the entirety of her emotional spectrum. At no point do I want to be a force that enforces emotional repression. But… I also don’t want to create a goddamn monster that allows herself to express every feeling like an emotional terrorist!!!

  So my strategy has been trying to find a balance between these extremes. When she is upset I ask if there is a solution to her problem. If she is too pissed to think of solutions I suggest she go into her room where she can feel all she wants, but I don’t have to be a witness to her outburst. Then when she is ready to talk, we can talk about solutions and move forward with our lives.

  It took time to get this to work, but now that she is 6, we are in a pretty good place. Not just because of my parenting of course, it’s not like I’m some kid whisperer. Her personality was easy to work with because The Munch’s natural disposition is pretty mellow. She has her moments of expected child rage, but her core essence isn’t very confrontational. She is mostly a “well behaved” kid, and when she is feeling really upset and doesn’t want to be reasonable, she goes into her room and then comes out when she is ready to discuss things more rationally.

  All great right??

  NOT SO SURE!!!

  This is the NEW problem that I’m seeing. The Munch is REALLY RESPECTFUL OF AUTHORITY!

  The Munch listens to her teachers at school, and takes instruction very seriously. When she recently had to deal with the hospital and all her surgery she did everything the doctor said, and was very compliant. The doctor said on multiple occasions “what a good girl she is.” The Munch went to the dentist for the first time yesterday and came home wanting to brush her teeth 3 times a day and floss every morning and night. She listened to her dentist because she is a “good little girl” who does what she is told.

  HOLY SHIT I HAVE CREATED A MONSTER!!!

  Have I raised a little conformist!!!??

  As a parent yes I want my daughter to listen to me… but as a woman I want my daughter to LISTEN TO NO ONE!!!!!!!!!

  As a parent it is really amazing that she is so easy tempered, empathetic, thoughtful, nice, caring, but as a feminist I want her TO SHAKE SHIT THE FUCK UP AND CHALLENGE ALL STEROTYPES AND NEVER MAKE IT EASY FOR MEN TO TAKE ADVTAGE OF HER!

  As a parent it is so nice that my kid takes direction well, shows adults respect, isn’t a problem at school, is easy to teach… but as a wannabe revolutionary… FUCK AUTHORITY! FUCK THE POLICE! FUCK THE SYSTEM!!! FUCK GOVERNMENT!!

  Do you see my problem!!

  So here is my plan for the next 6 years… slowly undo every thing I have done and recondition her. This way by the time she is 12, she will be a fucking nightmare – just in time for her teen years. She can rebel against everything and everyone, have ton of fun, and become a total bad ass. Then from 18-24 we find the balance between the two.

  

  October 5, 2016 • Disciplining, Education, Family Drama, Mommyhood, Parenting • Views: 3219

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• What The Left Wing Needs and The Solution To the World’s Problems

  

  Like most of you, I watched the debates with an expression akin to what I would look like if a snake crawled out of my asshole, and then licked me on the nose – horrified, but also intrigued. In both cases the main question is, “how did you get here?”

  Sometimes I wonder if Trump is just a brilliant performance artist using this platform of presidency as his canvas for expression. Maybe he’s being mentored by Marina Abramovik to reveal the truth of our country through his despicable behavior and bigotry? Doesn’t it seem more reasonable that he’s the physical manifestation of an interactive live art installation intended to pull back the veil of American imperialism than him being an actual candidate?!

  Where are all the left wing political assassins?? How come assassins are always right wing? Every public figure that has been murdered by some gunman is always a progressive trying to fight against injustice. Abe Lincoln, JFK, RFK, Martin Luther King, John Lennon, Indira Gandhi, Mahatma Gandhi, Malcolm X… the list goes on. Where are the crazy lefties that go around executing people, and why isn’t Trump first on their list? I am not saying I want him dead, but no one has even tried to shoot him in the leg? If that isn’t proof enough that every left wing assassination is a government conspiracy conducted by the New World Order lizard elite then I don’t know what is!

  Trump isn’t the real problem because ultimately he’s just a figurehead. The real issue is that millions of people support him, and they aren’t’ going away no matter who’s elected. This country is beyond divided. It’s fragmented. The corruption of the justice system is an obvious symptom of our collective disease. Police getting away with murder, and rapists getting away with rape is an everyday occurrence. Everything is boiling to the surface and no one can find a lid to stop it.

  The world is fucked, everybody knows it, and nobody knows what to do. The environment is going to serious shit, there are endless wars destroying humanity and the planet, corporations rule politics, and we are facing potential extinction. The reason why we don’t know what to do is because we are all so isolated in our tiny boxes, staring at our tiny boxes with screens – separated from each other and nature and thinking connection is best achieved through “likes.”

  If I “like” enough articles about global warming and Syrian refuges will it all go away??????

  Humans are by nature followers, and we need a leader. I know you don’t think you’re a follower, but you are. That doesn’t mean you aren’t lovely, but 99.9999999% of us would rather be told what to do then figure it out on your own. But if you are on the outside of the political fence looking in, we don’t have a leader – so we sit around finger-blasting ourselves and our phones, waiting for the diarrhea to hit the windmill.

  That was one of the problems with Occupy Wall Street – it was a leaderless movement. I get the philosophy behind it. I respect the impact that it made. A lot was born from that initiative. But in order for people to really make change in their every day lives, they crave someone giving them specific direction.

  Bernie Sanders was the most powerful potential leader for progressive left wing in my lifetime. There was a moment when his light was so bright, and millions of psychologically and politically disenfranchised people wanted him to lead us out of the darkness. We were begging for someone who shared our vision of the world to be our take over. Please Bernie… be my dad, tell me how to take down corporate America, and then hold me.

  But Bernie couldn’t survive within the current political landscape. It’s too corrupt. I’m not saying that because I’m sexist and hate Hillary, but because the status quo is compromised and anyone who can rise to the upper ranks of power is also –including Obama.

  We want politics to be our parents because figuring out how to self-organize is too daunting. There are too many people, and we didn’t evolve to live in such big groups. We are overwhelmed with population, infrastructure, and corporate monopolies. Revolution takes sacrifice, but we aren’t willing to actually fight for a cause because the present paradigm isn’t that bad. Forget the fact that we may not have a future… right now is okay because “Stranger Things” is an amazing show and I just watched the entire first season!

  A vote for Hillary isn’t just a vote against Trump, it’s a vote for the establishment that already exists. Bernie Sanders is urgently supporting the democratic party’s nomination and doesn’t feel like now is the time for 3rd party protests, but when is that time? The first vote I ever cast was for the 3rd party, and everyone blamed us for the rise of the Bush era.

  People who want more than two choices are thought of as irrational and naïve. There is NEVER going to be an election where it is safe to pursue that goal. But a democracy isn’t just a two party system, and there are many countries that successfully prove that.

  The right at least has the Tea Party for their extremists, but the left doesn’t have the New Age party that only speaks in sacred geometry and whispers in fractals. Maybe the kind of politics that I want to see in the world can’t exist within this current framework, but that doesn’t mean that we don’t need leaders outside the scaffolding to shake shit up. The Black Lives Matter movement is proof enough that so many of us are CRAVING a movement to ignite change. We need to take these social movements to the next level and use this momentum to force the hand of those that are destroying the planet with their greed and corruption.

  If you think about our access to connection, we have more opportunity now than ever before for mass protesting. I feel like we need to enter into an era of love induced social terrorism against the corporate elite. We need to spread our message like a venereal disease across all social medial platforms. The 1% does not own the world, and we need to take it back from them.

  We need someone to tell us, “hey, nobody pay back their student loans until we have more reasonable college tuition and a better support system for our youth so they don’t enter the work force with $200,000 in debt.” Or “No African American person should pay taxes until the prison industrial complex has been completely reformed and the police state addressed.” Or no one pay their medical bills until we’ve had a true overhaul of our health system so people aren’t dying because of insurance complications.

  If EVERYONE participated in these kinds of economic protests you bet your sweet ass we would get shit done!!! We just need someone to lead and organize us… and not get shot by the lizard elite! So maybe this leader has to either be able to regenerate, have many clones, or be like the Dali Llama and if one get’s killed another is born.

  So who ever is trying to lead these kinds of initiatives we have to vehemently support and defend! If you know people that are on this level… LET US ALL KNOW so we can get organized.

  October 1, 2016 • Current Events, Education, Environmental Impact, Political Banter • Views: 3619

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• Am I Smarter Than A Harvard Professor?

  

  When I was in high school I hated school. I would go to the bathroom every class, each and every day. I guess this practice earned me the reputation amongst my teachers of either having a serious bladder infection, or a rampant case of irritable bowel syndrome.

  I also had no problem blatantly lying to my dad to get out of going to school. He would come wake me up at 7 am, and I would tell him that morning classes were cancelled, and to wake me up in two hours. Either my dad was insane for believing me, or he just didn’t care about my future. Regardless, most days I sauntered into school around 11.

  I perfected my mom’s signature, and would forge notes about my many doctors’ appointments – fueling rumors that I had some incurable communicable disease. I was even known to bend down to “pick up a pencil,” and then crawl out the open door of my classroom. If there was an opportunity to roam the hallways aimlessly, I took it.

  Part of the reason I disliked school was because I didn’t feel it was cultivating my own understanding of the world. I only did well when I learned how to anticipate the teacher’s opinion about the subject, and then alter my material accordingly. The process of developing my personal philosophies was hardly encouraged – rather I was only praised when able to regurgitate the views of my teacher.

  My junior year, I had this one English teacher who really didn’t like me. Maybe he didn’t view me as a serious student, or an avid intellectual because I was usually talking out of turn or trying to escape. It’s not his fault he didn’t see me as academically curious, because I did oscillate between being totally disruptive and completely checked out. But it was also kind of annoying that every book we read was written by a man and about male characters. Yet that was the canon, so that was what we read.

  Even though I don’t blame this teacher for hating me, and I am sure I could have been more strategic, but there was a deeper reason I didn’t thrive. My problem with this teacher was that I only got good grades from him when I didn’t read the book! If I hadn’t read the book, and could write papers or take tests purely on my notes that I took during class, he would give me an “A-.” But if I were to read the book, and add my own analysis into my writing, he would give me a “B.”

  It’s like he didn’t even care if I thought Moby Dick was a dick.

  I went to a super competitive private school in Cambridge Massachusetts. It was the kind of place where kids were having full blown anxiety attacks in the 5th grade because they got a 90% on their spelling test, and felt like that ruined their chance of getting into Harvard. At my school, a “B” was the kiss of death. I might as well have flushed my head down the toilet for shaming my family. It was clear that soon I would have to build a raft and set myself out to the ocean for all the disgrace I was causing.

  I told my dad that my English teacher gave me bad grades because he didn’t like me, rather than my shitty “B’s” being a genuine reflection of my efforts. My dad however, didn’t believe me. He thought that I wasn’t applying myself, and would tell me to work harder.

  One day, I decided to put my dad’s theory to the test. Was it really my fault I wasn’t doing well in this class?

  It was the end of the school year, and I had two papers to write. They were both due the next day, and there was no way I could finish them both, or get an extension. I went upstairs to my dad’s office to discuss my predicament.

  Toni: Here’s the deal. I have two papers due tomorrow, and I can’t write them both. If I don’t hand one in, I will get an F on that paper – which will not look good when I apply to colleges.

  My Dad: You bet your ass it won’t. This is not good Toni.

  Toni: I know. So this is what is going to happen. I will write one, and you can write the other.

  My Dad: Jesus H. Christ Toni it is 10 pm!

  Toni: I could take the F.

  My Dad: No we can’t do that. Then you won’t get into a good college and bring eternal dishonor to the family.

  Toni: You can choose between “The Old Man and the Sea” or “Great Expectations”

  My Dad: I am not happy about this.

  Toni: You don’t have to do it.

  My Dad: I’ll take the Old Man.

  I smugly tossed my dad the book, and went downstairs to write my paper. Okay fine, I was being kind of an entitled asshole. My poor dad had better things to do with his life than write my English papers, but at the same time, fuck him.

  Now keep in mind, my dad is kind of a genius. He graduated high school when he was 16. Blasted through college in 2 years. Got his PHD from Harvard when he was 23. Speaks 22 languages. He writes a book almost every year of his life. In short, my dad is way smarter than the average high school student.

  My dad should have received a good grade on this paper right? He was after all competing against the standards of 17-year-old kids. If my English teacher was truly giving each paper I wrote a fair chance and not typecasting me, this essay should have done well right?!!

  I handed in the two papers, and when I got them back, I got a “B+” and my dad, THE GENIUS HARVARD PROFESSOR, got a “B.”

  Toni: So dad, since I got the better grade, does that mean I’m smarter than you?”

  My Dad: WHAT!? I got a “B?” I really tried too! I didn’t even dumb myself down! That teacher of yours really is an asshole.

  Look at that guy! HE DOES NOT DESERVE A “B” FROM A HIGH SCHOOL ENGLISH TEACHER!

  

  February 25, 2016 • Education, Family Drama, Old School Stories • Views: 3022

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• My 5-Year Old Does Not Support the Rockefeller Drug Laws

  

  Every parent has a nighttime ritual with their child to put them to bed. Sometimes that includes a bath, a warm glass of milk, and reading a story. Other times putting your child to sleep involves a discussion about the Police state and Rockefeller drug laws – but to each his own.

  There is a heroin epidemic where I live in New Hampshire, and it is basically impossible not to know someone who is personally effected by this crisis. The Munch and I were talking about someone we love, and how they are dealing with a family member in jail because of heroine. The Munch had a lot of questions about what all this meant, and the complexity of trying to clarify the details to her made something very clear to me.

  The way we treat drug addicts in this country is criminal.

  I think the best way to tell if a system is flawed, is if it’s hard to explain it to a child. If you can’t easily articulate an issue, then something is wrong.

  When the Munch asks about what laws were, I didn’t find it challenging to express why we needed laws. When she asked me some examples of laws, it was perfectly logical to her why it was illegal to steal, or kill someone. There wasn’t a lot of confusion. But when trying to unpack why drugs were illegal and why people go to prison for drugs – that was actually really hard.

  The Munch: What do drugs do to people?
  Toni: They make you feel different – inside your body and your mind.
  The Munch: What do you mean feel different?
  Toni: You know how if you eat a bunch of sugar, and your body feels kind of funny after? Like it’s buzzing?
  The Munch: Yeah… and you have all this energy and want to run around?
  Toni: Well drugs make you feel different sensations in your body and in your brain.
  The Munch: Is sugar a drug?
  Toni: Well it affects your brain like drugs, but it’s not considered a drug.
  The Munch: Is wine drugs? Like how grow-ups drink wine and stuff?
  Toni: Kind of – but wine beer is considered alcohol. Not a drug.
  The Munch: Do people go to prison for wine?
  Toni: No… only drugs.
  The Munch: Why are drugs bad?
  Toni: Because you can get addicted to them.
  The Munch: Like how you say I can get addicted to sugar, or watching too much “My Little Pony.”
  Toni: Yes. Addiction is when you make a decision to do something you know is bad for you, but it’s too hard to make the decision to stay away.
  The Munch: And you go to prison because you have addiction and it’s too hard to stay away?
  Toni: Sort of. But also when you take drugs, you probably aren’t making the best decisions in general because you’re also on drugs. So you aren’t thinking clearly.
  The Munch: But don’t you take drugs when you are sick? Or have surgery? Like how you gave me drugs when I had my eye surgery so the pain would go away?
  Toni: Yes. Doctors give drugs when people are in pain, but those drugs don’t put you in jail.
  The Munch: What are the drugs that put you in jail?
  Toni: Illegal drugs.
  The Munch: But do people take illegal drugs because they are in pain?
  Toni: Yes. Emotional pain. And sometimes physical pain too.
  The Munch: So shouldn’t those people see a doctor for their pain and not go to jail?
  Toni: Yes they should.

  Since the Rockefeller drug laws were introduced, the prison population in the US has skyrocketed! We now hold the honor of being the number 1 country in the world with the most people incarcerated. Maybe the original intention was to make our neighborhoods safer, but sending millions of non-violent offenders to jail for exorbitant sentences has had a detrimental impact on communities. The Rockefeller drug laws are the most significant legal foundation of the war on drugs over the last 40 years. And despite the draconian mandatory minimums being removed 7 years ago, 48% of the people in our federal prisons are there for non-violent drug related crimes. But what if we started regarding drug abuse as a social issue to contend with and not a criminal one?

  These mandatory sentences haven’t addressed why people turn to drugs, but only built the foundation of our current penal system. These drug laws paved the path for the prison industrial complex that we see today – ironically with prisoners as the ones laying the concrete. When prisons become profitable businesses, then filling them up with people is simply free labor for Wall Street.

  So I agree with The Munch – maybe we should be sending addicts to hospitals and not prisons.

  February 15, 2016 • 5 years old, Current Events, Education, Health, Mommyhood, Musings, Parenting, Political Banter, Talking and Not Talking • Views: 2630

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• It Turns Out I Have No Natural Talents

  

  The other day I got out of my car and was walking through the parking lot to my dance studio when something occurred to me. I have no natural talents. It was one of those thoughts that come out of nowhere, and the minute you think it, you know it’s true.

  Now I’m not saying I’m not good at things. I am. I can dance, skateboard, surf, play tennis, write, make amazing sandwiches… But everything I’m good at, I’m only good at only because I worked REALLY FUCKING HARD TO GET GOOD!!!

  I guess you could say that I have the natural talent of being tenacious, but beyond that, I am pretty talentless. The thing that I’ve got going for me is that I am willing to do whatever it takes, and take as much time as I need, to get better at something.

  There are some people who get good at things very easily. They may have a natural propensity towards creative capacities, or some advanced ability to digest various educational disciplines. Usually these people are hyper talented in a variety of fields. They don’t have to commit in the same way I do, because they can float between an assortment of activities and excel.

  NOT ME!

  I have to focus and exert a shit ton of effort in order to advance my ability.

  I guess if I’m being real with myself, The Munch is the same way as me. She is not particularly talented at anything. But she is a good student and willing to try!! Every teacher she has, whether it’s her ski teacher/ gymnastics teacher/dance teacher – they all say the same thing. That she is good listener and is willing to practice.

  Because my kid and I are pretty talentless, the best thing we can do for ourselves is get really enthusiastic about practicing!! Every time The Munch shows me one of her drawings, or one of her mediocre cartwheels I say, “Wow! You have been practicing so much and I really see improvement! I can see how trying hard is making you better!”

  Here were are just working hard trying not to be average!!

  

  February 10, 2016 • 5 years old, Behavior, Education, Mommyhood, Musings, Parenting • Views: 2764

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• I am The BEST! Now I’m the Worst :(

  

  Life is not a competition. But just so you know, I totally read that sentence better and faster than you. That one too. I win.

  When you compare yourself to other people, you mislay yourself in a feedback loop of ego glorification and flagellation. Isn’t that a big word I just used that you probably had to look up? Point for me – you lose.

  The only person we really should be competing with is ourselves. Life is ultimately about progress. As long as you are moving forward, and on a path towards evolution, there is a genuine satisfaction in your efforts that no one can take away. You may not be as good as the person next to you, but when you know you are doing the absolute best you can, there is authentic pride.

  Yet when we strive to be better than someone else, and define self worth through the comparison of the “other,” the motivation to succeed becomes tainted. If you are always looking outside at what everyone else is doing, rather than being happy for them and their achievements, you feel jealous. And when you are the one who feels superior, you look down at other people because that makes you feel all the more higher on the pedestal.

  There is room for everyone on this planet. Well, not really because of overpopulation and depleting resources. But theoretically there is room for everyone to be the best possible versions of themselves. Someone else’s accomplishments doesn’t take away from yours, and even when you may not be the absolute best ever, that doesn’t mean there isn’t great value in what you are doing.

  There is this American ethos that “if you are not going to be the best, then why bother?” But in truth, doing something out of pure joy is the most worthwhile motivation to do anything. Why not spend our time doing what feeds our spirit, even when we aren’t the best?

  With all that being said, last year The Munch was the best at her gymnastics class. Whatever, she just was. So her teacher suggested she go into the more advanced group that meets twice a week. I of course complied, because my kid was the fucking best.

  Yeah, well now that she is the youngest in her class, she is also the worst. She is the fucking worst. She just is. The worst.

  I watch the class and think, “holy shit Munch, these little bitches are better than you! GET IT TOGETHER AND WORK ON YOUR SPLIT!”

  So thank the universe The Munch actually lives the values I write about. Despite my personal inner crisis that can’t handle how much she sucks in comparison to these little flipping twats, the Munch doesn’t give a flying fuck in a rolling doughnut and just keeps practicing because she loves it.

  

  September 30, 2015 • 5 years old, Education, Mommyhood, Musings, Parenting, Playing • Views: 3642

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• The Life Of an Artist is Just an Extended Childhood

  

  As an anti-conventional free-spirited hippy parent that wants my child to take down the system and plan a revolution, sometimes the idea of orthodox schooling disturbs me. Part of me thinks it’s important to learn how to function within the framework society has pre-established as necessary. Yet if my kid never conforms to that regimented approach, and instead commits her energy fully to a more creative life, then she would hopefully develop the skills to carve a different path. One where she is not contributing to the capitalist system that is currently sodomizing all of humanity – without even the decency of lube.

  The Munch has one more year at her idyllic Waldorf preschool where they frolic through the forest floor while a pan like creature plays a lute, and innocence is as abundant as leaves on trees. Yet soon she will have to go to school, sit at a desk, and be scolded for staring out he window. At least that would be the “normal” trajectory.

  If I were to project any dreams onto my child it is that she would live outside the confines of culture, and question it rather than submissively participate in it. I want to encourage her to define her own reality- not bow down to a soul sucking structure. What if she spent the rest of her life creating one giant art project!?

  Every kid on planet earth likes art when they are young. They all do artistic things naturally as part of the everyday shit that kids do. They gravitate towards art on their own. Not that many children are like “I want to learn about macro-economics today mommy,” but they all will sing the fuck out of the ABC’s.

  How kids play and enjoy life is the nascent stage of becoming an artist. All artists are just grown ups that were able to hold onto their childhood interests! Picasso was once a little brat who liked drawing noses where the ears should be. He just got really really good at it. So basically if you practicing playing really hard – eventually you could become an artist.

  When I think about what The Munch actually LIKES to do right now, and if she just were to concentrate on her playing, she’s got some pretty good life options a head of her!

  This is her average day, and the potential if she just keeps at it.

  1) Makes up Songs about “My Little Ponies” killing each other with magic powers: She could be a singer/song writer.
  2) Shakes her body around: She could be a dancer.
  3) Plays pretend with her dolls/My Little Pony’s: She could be an actor, director, or screenwriter. (PS these games are complicated as fuck and involve a variety of characters that talk in distinct voices and have very complicated backstories. I can’t just jump in and insist that “Pinkie Pie” can fly to Nightmare garden because according the to The Munch “Pinkie Pie” does not have wings!!!!!)
  5) Wraps herself in material: Totally high fashion designer
  4) Tells poop and fart jokes: She could be a comedian.

  

  

  August 24, 2015 • 5 years old, Education, Musings, Parenting • Views: 2920

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