Politics and Religion, And Why Your Cashier Doesn't Want To Hear About It

   Anytime you have more than one person in the room, and the conversation turns to either politics or religion, or if you are insanely unlucky, both, there is going to be a difference of opinion. I have never come across two people that hold the same view for every aspect of political or religious debates. Not gonna happen. And since most people get all fired up and butt hurt when other people don't agree with them about every little detail, there is almost always an argument. Not saying that all of these arguments end badly, because some people do know how to be mature, sane adults, but nevertheless, arguments ensue, with good and bad endings.
  Now when you aren't at the workplace, it's okay if the person you are arguing with thinks you are the devil because you don't agree with them about foodstamps or abortion or gay marriage or public schooling or whatever the issue of the day is. But when you are at work, this is a whole different issue. Now this may surprise some of you, but between coworkers, we are not supposed to talk about about these controversial topics while on the clock. We sometimes do, but we aren't supposed to, because we aren't supposed to breed hostility in the workplace. And people get pretty fricking angry about others not agreeing with their religious and political views. And since I don't ever agree with anyone, I tend to keep my mouth shut. All I need is for some coworker to Code Red me -- a bad bad bad thing that you can get fired for -- because I vented some of my views and got pissy with someone because they got pissy with me. Plus, I do believe in respecting other's views and beliefs, and it isn't very respectful of me to be cramming what I believe down someone else's throat in a work environment. Not really fair.
   But there isn't a lot that us cashiers can do when customers come at us with political and religious views and aggressively try to force us to agree. And I could fake agreeing, but I don't really like to do that, so what I tend to do is get quiet and just look at you. Maybe you'll get a vague 'uh-huh' out of me, and many just take this as a form of agreement, but this is my way of saying 'you are batshit crazy but I can't come out and say it because I am on the clock.' That's what uh-huh means when you come through my line talking about Obama is a Muslim terrorist or that Romney wants to take away all women's rights or that I need to come to whatever your church is in order to be divinely saved because all other churches are false churches, blah-blah-blah-blah. I don't agree with any of that bullshit, and you don't want to hear my views, because in the past election, I didn't vote for either of those dudes; they were both bad choices, as far as I am concerned.  This most recent election, I wrote in my best friend's name in that place marked Other_____________. And while I believe in God, I don't really care for organized religion because every time I go listen to a mass or sermon, or whatever you want to call it, I hear a lot of hate-mongering. None of you wants to hear that shit from me though, and I oblige you by not flapping my jaw.
   Also, a cashier can't really debate with you, because if you get mad enough and go complain to the manager, which quite a few people would totally do, we can get fired over that. We aren't supposed to talk about these things on the clock, and we are not supposed to argue with customers. So any agreement you get is often coerced. Which means that really, we don't agree at all; we just want to keep on paying our bills. So in the spirit of fairness, pick a different topic to chat up your cashier with. The weather, a new recipe, your vacation plan, your kids, your college classwork, or talk about nothing at all if you'd rather. But please! Not politics and religion! I'm glad that you are into politics and religion, but if you really want to debate with me, don't do it when I am in the position where I can't debate without risking my job. 

Advice -- And The People Who Give It

   In my own experience, there are two types of people who hand out advice. There are the people who give advice in response to a problem that you are facing, and don't mind if you happen not to take that advice. They are just telling you what worked for them, and it's no skin off their back if you don't take it. This is the good kind of advice givers, and the kind that I don't mind. The kind that I do mind are the ones who act like you have insulted their whole family line if you don't take the advice they give. You don't want to starve your picky eater as per their advice and would rather she eat a sandwich if she doesn't like dinner that day, and it's like you have dug up their great-great-great grandfather's grave and fornicated with the corpse. Think that's over the top??? I don't. Some of the moms that I have come across have had that attitude. Don't follow their advice, they will act like you've started WWIII, and will do their best to ruin your world. And even worse than this response to asked for advice is unsolicited advice.
   Talk about being a single mom, and you get some chick in your face talking about how your kid is going to be scarred for life because of the lack of testosterone in the home. Talk about working and needing more hours and someone tells you that they think moms working takes away from the family. Well, excuse me for not fitting the mold of the nuclear family, but never in my life have I asked for advice about whether I should get married, or whether I need to work or not. These are things that I don't need advice about. I'm not gonna hook up with the first guy I meet because you think that I need a dick in my house. And if I don't work? Well, excuse me for wanting to put a roof over my child's head, for wanting to put food in her stomach, clothes on her back, supplies for her school, shoes for her feet, insurance for her medical needs, and all the various things needed to raise a child, which makes up a rather extensive and expensive list.
   But there are some people who don't see the world that way. They have 'advice' for what your family should be, for what you should and should not do with your time, for what you should expose your kids to, for what church you should go to, for how you should dress and allow your kids to dress, and for every little item that makes you the unique person that you are, and God-forbid that you don't take that 'advice'. However, I have some news for you people, this isn't advice, this is your opinion. And regardless of your opinion, I am going to continue to live my life in the manner that I think best. This means that I am going to continue to work my little cashier job, because it pays the best and has the best insurance, and my managers work with me on the hours that I am available to work. This means that I am probably never going to get married. This means that I am going to continue to wear jeans to the ballet, and that I am going to continue to convince my daughter that Justin Bieber is the devil and that her eardrums will melt if she listens to him for longer then it takes to turn the station channel. This means that when the next Elder Scrolls game comes out, I will be buying my girl a copy. And although I will probably never succeed, I will continue trying to convince my daughter that butterflies are not better than zombies. I will decide what my daughter reads, and besides Fifty Shades of Grey, there isn't much on my banned book list. I will decided what is best for us, because I am the head of my family, not you.
   I know that there are many people out there who shake their heads at me, but while they are shaking their heads and proclaiming to the world how wrong I am, I am busy living my life, in my way, on my terms. And although I started writing this blog post feeling mighty bad and feeling pretty hurt, I don't anymore. I have a great life, a life that I've worked hard for, and continue to work hard for. I have every right to be proud of what I have accomplished. And if you don't like seeing me, in jeans, without makeup, and with messy hair, and you don't like my Skyrim-playing, Bieber-hating daughter, pass us on by. We don't like your lifestyle any more that you like ours, but we respect your right to live the way you want; return the favor. In other words: shove your advice where the sun doesn't shine, sweethearts. We're all good here. 

Kitchen Knives Vs. Marie

   When I lived in Florida, I worked in a store that had a fresh fruit bar, and I was the cutter. Everyday, I had to go into work, and cut up trays and trays of things like watermelon, honeydew, cantaloupe, pineapple, kiwi, and other fruits into bite sized pieces. In all that time, I never suffered an injury; never had the knife slip, never had an issue with witch's knives or steak knives and Easter bunnies, but since I moved to Washington, the problems have been abundant.

   Then there was yesterday - my day off - and I was calmly cutting up potatoes to make myself some baked potatoes wedges for my lunch. A day off is a day where you get to rest and rejuvenate, or if you are a working mom, frantically manage to clean the house in the morning so that you can rest in the afternoon, but I did not find myself resting. What I found myself doing was slicing deep into my thumb as I was cutting up potatoes. Then I found myself holding wads of paper towels to my thumb, and then changing that wad out after I bled through, and continuing that until I managed to get the bleeding to stop enough so I could get a band-aid on. Now, I did consider going to the ER, but for crying-out-loud, I had just cut my thumb. Deep, sure, and it had bled a lot, but extremities and head-wounds tend to bleed the most, and I could not conceive of going to the ER over a cut on my thumb. It's not like I cut the fricking thing off. So when the blood  started seeping through the band-aids, I just changed them out, proceeding to use up my daughter's supply of sparkly, blinged-out band-aids. So when I went to pick her up from school, I just stopped at the store real quick and picked up more. No big deal.
   What is a big deal: not being able to use your thumb. You never realize how much you rely on that sucker until you have to avoid using it. By the evening, the cut had stopped seeping, but anytime I touched something with my thumb the thing would throb, and even more alarming, bleed a little. Try fixing dinner without using one of your thumbs. Try putting the laundry in the dryer, with is stacked above the washer, and so tall that you have to stand on your tip-toes to reach into it. Try folding and hanging up clothes, and try doing the dishes. FYI: my clothes didn't get put away, and my dishes are sitting the sink still, and this morning I didn't make my bed. Typing is good, because instead if two thumbs resting on the space bar, I only rest one, and hold the other one up. I have to work tonight, but I think scanning will be fine as well. In any case, much like the ER, no way I'm causing a ruckus over a cut thumb. And there is no more bleeding at all, this morning I tested it by grabbing something and checking to see if there was blood. None; the band-aid was all white and alright.
   But this does lead me to the conclusion that all the knives in Washington must have some sort of conspiracy against me. I went for years without ever cutting myself; I move and BAM!!!!! The attack of the kitchen knives. Are you kidding me here? Like I don't have enough problems without the revolution of the kitchen knives on my hands. I see you, knives, I see you.

I Used To Be Sane, I Swear

   There are things that have changed drastically since I became a parent, and I know that I am not alone in this. As a parent, you often find that you are doing and saying things that you swore you would never do. Open your mouth, and the words that come out of your mouth were plagiarized from your mother. A true, "Oh my God, I'm turning into my mother" moment. And that is not the only thing. All that cool stuff you did as a teenager? All your friends who knew you back then are under a gag order when your child is anywhere within hearing distance because you do not want them copying you. Put firecrackers in the neighbor's mailbox? Don't say it around the kids, they'll want to one-up you. You morph into this spastic person who doesn't blink an eye at the insanity that is parenting; the old you is still there, but is at war with the parent you, causing some pretty insane behavior.

   An example of this is when you are with your sister's kids, and the nephew starts licking your daughter and niece's faces, so you decide the punishment must fit the crime, and lick your nephew's grubby-ass face, and then decided that licking your germaphobe sister's face would be pretty freaking awesome, which does nothing to stop the nephew from licking people, and in fact, spurs him to greater measures. You remember things like when you were a kid and used to climb onto the top of the roof and the car port, and then jump off, because why the hell not, but now you spaz-out when your daughter leans over a railing. These are all signs of your old personality and your parent personality fighting for dominance inside your brain. 

   Remember all that crap food you used to consume by the cart load? Eating spaghetti used to count as vegetables with me. There's tomatoes and stuff in that, right? Now I wage war with the kiddo, trying to convince her to eat more green stuff, because I'm convinced she doesn't eat enough veggies and her little ass is gonna get scurvy. Want a change in dinner? Try and convince the kiddo of that. By now I've eaten enough chicken that I wouldn't be surprised if I sprouted feathers and started flying, because chicken is her favorite. 

   Being a parent is watching more kiddo shows than you watched even when you were a kiddo yourself and swearing that if you ever meet a Wiggle, Barney, Teletubby, or any other similar TV character, you are going to take them DOWN, for the good of all mankind. Being a parent is when you've changed your kiddo's diaper and had the kiddo SHIT all over your hand, and the primary feeling you felt was relief because they weren't bound up anymore. When you go stand in the public bathroom line five times in thirty minutes because you are potty training your kiddo and they are in big kid undies. When you learn to like whole wheat bread because their doctor has said that your kid needs more fiber, and finding yourself actually reading the effing nutrition label to make sure the stupid whole wheat bread you are buying actually is high in fiber after you learn that some of the whole-wheat options are just white bread in disguise. Being a parent is suffering through your kids  being grounded and having privileges taken away, even though that shit is harder on you then it is on the kid, and after hearing them whine "I'm bored" and "This sucks" one more time, you want to remove your eardrums with the screwdriver, and knowing that a in your pre-parenting days, you would have thought that the shit they pulled was no big deal and might have even been impressed. Being a parent is being pulled in two by the wish that they would stay young forever and the desire for them to grow up and show the world what they are made of. 

   The truth is, that no sane, normal person can function as a parent. You have to be truly insane to be able to manage the multiple personalities waging war inside your body. You have to learn how to be firm with your kid, and discipline them and make them follow the frickin rules, but you also have to not be someone that they are afraid to talk to when they need help, and that is a hard person to be, and a person like that needs to have multiple personalities just to function. This is the truth of every parent. We may have started out as sane people, but we sure as hell aren't sane now. 

The Perfect You

   Raising a child is a job. Some people get upset when you refer to raising a child as a job; this is not a job, they say. This is a choice, an honor, something wonderful that is a gift. And yes, these things are true, but that does not negate the fact that raising a child is also hard work, an undertaking that you will have to commit to for the rest of your life, because even when they are grown, you will always be their mother. Age, time, independence, and them ultimately finding their own path in life does not change the fact that you are 'Mom'. This is not a job that you can retire from. You're in for life, so you had better start getting your shit together and figure out what you need to do, because from the moment you become a mom, you take responsibility for raising a part of the future.
   This brings me to my next point. Not all women should be moms. Originally, I was not going to have children, so when I say that not all women should be moms, I do not imply weaknesses or character flaws. I do not think that I was flawed when I thought I did not want children, and I still don't think that wish implied flaws or weak unwomanly traits. I just think that God knew me better than I knew myself. But I think that there is more than one purpose in life. Moms have the important role of raising the next generation, and this is a vital role, but like any other role, every person should not fill it. I do not mean that every woman should not become moms because some of them are crackheads who will leave their kids in a dumpster during a drug binge or sell them for a hit. What I mean is this; if all women decided to become doctors, there would be an imbalance, society would be thrown off kilter. Because while we need doctors, we also need scientists, teachers, businessmen, bakers, and all the other occupations. This is how we have a balanced society. Demanding that all women have children is much like demanding that everyone learn to be a doctor, or a soldier, or a politician. I make a good mom, but I would make a piss-poor doctor. We need both; both are vital to our community.
   Saying that, I also do not mean that a woman who is a mom should not have a career. Some women can fill both roles. Myself, I am a working mom, and while my job is not glamorous or prestigious, I do get satisfaction in the fact that I provide for my daughter. Nor do I mean that women should do both, some women stay home and are homemakers, and this is a hard, hard job with even less glamour and prestige than my little checking job. What I mean to say is that we need to stop trying to force ourselves into these cookie-cutter molds. Women should be homemakers; women should be mothers; women should be career oriented.; women should have kids and be homemakers and have careers and look perfect; all these roles that we have made for the 'perfect' woman are exhausting, and we get so busy judging each other and ourselves that we forget about the important things. Being happy in life, and making those who we love happy. Stop trying to fit the mold and stop judging others for not fitting the mold.. Somewhere along the road, women have become our own worst enemy. No one will judge you as harshly as another women, with the exception of yourself. We judge ourselves the most harshly of all, with no forgiveness for the things that make us unique. But the simple fact is, not one of us are cookie-cutter women. Whether you want children, or you don't, whether you want a career, or you don't, whether you want both, or just one, you are the perfect you.