Soapbox

    I had some fun last night making fun of Mike Huckabee's recent statement about women and how the GOP is actually empowering them, fighting a war FOR women not on them, and that liberals only want birth control pills covered by health insurance because they think women 'cannot control their libidos'.
    Right! Whereas Mike and Rick Santorm know that, with the right "empowerment" (which apparently is code for 'Pioneer women didn't need Gal insurance. ladies, and neither do you!") we can stop being sluts who need our daily slut pills from "Uncle Sugar".  Barfity-barf! As one blogger said "The way I control my libido is by thinking about Mike Huckabee".
    But this morning, another phrase he used caught my eye.

    Huckabee said that GOP policy initiatives (like no birth control coverage, closing Planned Parenthood clinics, wanting the IRS to audit your rape and unnecessary transvaginal probes) are unfairly labeled a 'war on women' when in fact, this is how the Republican party helps American women "be something other than victims of their gender".

    Excuse me? A victim of my gender?
    Ex- freakin- SCUSE ME!!????

    Getting affordable women's health care (the way men get their gender-specific health needs covered) makes me a victim of my gender? But needing prostate exams and all the low-T cream and boner pills you guys apparently can't live without doesn't make you victims of your gender?

    Yes, female America: Unplanned Pregnancy is freedom!  The Republican party wants you to know that untreated hormonal imbalance is liberty!!  And letting your rapist stop you from having an abortion is empowerment. You're welcome, girls. Now go make Mike a sandwich.
    And old Huck and the wise all-male committees of the GOP want to magically help me rise ABOVE my nasty, slutty lady parts… by restricting my access to health care. Gosh, instead of fighting it, maybe I should just lay back, close my eyes and enjoy all the power, huh?

    Huckabee wants America to believe that if you take away a low-income woman's access to Pap smears and mammograms, take away her ability to control her hormones and control her fertility (in some way other than by Withholding Sex, guys- think about it!) and saddle her with child after child which she cannot feed– you empower her.

    That is cruel, misogynistic and it's massively, mind-bogglingly Stupid!
     But what can you expect from people that would empower the unemployed- not by helping them find jobs, but by denying assistance, and who think that the way to help hungry people rise above their poverty is by taking away their FOOD!?

   Once upon a time there was a tiny little girl with strawberry curls, a determined chin and a deep belly laugh. She slept in a crib in the corner right over there with 5 brightly colored elephants called "The Temptations" in a dancing mobile over her head.  I remember the first time she took a 3 hour nap in the afternoon and I came in here twice to make sure she was still breathing.
   I painted this room a very pale mauve, made her curtains in a darker shade and all around the walls galloped a wallpaper border of antique carousel horses.
   For her second birthday she got  a big girl bed'- a red toddler frame that I found discounted at Service Merchandise. I snuck it into her room at night and tied mylar balloons to the head and foot so that when she woke and peeked out of her crib there it was, in that corner, over there. Years later I found an old answering machine casette that still had a message on it accidently recorded that day when my sister called to wish her happy birthday.
         I got gaboons, Aunt Beggy, and a big girl bed!!
   Oh, she was such a big girl!

   On the wall around her bed I put a set of 101 Dalmations wall decals that I found: a smiling Perdita and several inquisitive puppies who explored that corner of the room, leaving footprints behind. Sometimes she would stand on her bed and talk to them. And on the ceiling, of course- glow-in-the-dark stars, because her brother had a wonderful collection over his head, and nothing would do but Katie had the same.
    By now she was a bigger girl, with platinum blonde curls which she hated to have brushed, so I corralled them into the sweetest little braids. She climbed trees and rode her bike and played with dolls, as bigger girls do. By 3rd or 4th grade she was bored with the decore in her room- said they were too 'baby' and she wanted something else.
   So I started well in advance- bought a dresser and chest which I finished and painted wedgewood blue with natural wood tops and hid in the garage under an old quilt. I found a beige carpet to replace the pinkish carpet remnant she had, and arranged for her to spend the day and night before her birthday with the White family down the street.
   As soon as she was out of the house I dragged furnitre, laid down drop cloths and started peeliing off decals and wallpaper border. I hung new curtains and painted the walls a very pale blue- except in the closet, because there just wasn't time to take everything out to paint in there. ( and so it is that those beautiful carousel horses still run across the back of her closet. )
   I barely managed to get the drop cloths up, rug down and new furniture in place before Donna and Larry, unable to think of any more reasons to keep her away, had to bring her back. When she walked in and saw her birthday gift, I was quite proud of myself, and I hope she was pleased with the truly big girl room I made her.

   Now that the Dalmations were gone, that wall by her bed became home first for a dozen pictures of American Girl dolls that she cut from a catalogue. Then, one shocking day, I saw them crumpled in her trash can and looked up to reallize that Samantha and Addie and their friends had been replaced by pictures of NSync, cut from a Tiger Beat magazine. Ok, NOW she was a big girl!
    But some things didn't change. She still had a determined chin, a she still wanted to rescue every stray she ever found, from the baby birds who spent one hapless night in a cardboard box to the pit bull mix she found who spent almost a week with us.
    I spent a lot of nights in this room, sleeping on the fold-out chair when Katie had a fever or one of her vomiting spells (which she, thankfully, outgrew) so I could reach out and stroke her forehead, or hold her hand. But of course that ended as she got older and her room door was closed to me. Just as I did at that age, Katie wanted to study and relax by herself in her room rather than downstairs, and long periods of time would go by when I wouldn't see either child unless they were at the dinner table or the computer.

   And then one day, as big girls do, she packed her things and went off to college and left this room behind. I was a little blue without her wonderful companionship, but she wasn't far away. I started to use her room as a sort of den, retreating to her bed to read and nap on quiet afternoons. I think I felt close to her here, in her room; both the room and I waiting for her to come home.
   And so she did move home at last, though between work and being at Lindsay's house she wasn't home much, and when she was, she was usually in her with the door closed and the TV on. I knew she didn't want to be living here with her parents and brother- she wanted to be in her own place, with Lindsay, just as I had chafed to get my own place with Ted after college. I knew her time with us was short now, and I wanted to spend as much of it with her as I could- but didn't want to be in the way- the old lady, hanging around, thinking she was so entertaining when really, they just wanted to be with each other. She liked to go shopping with me though, so we did that a lot.

   And in the fullness of time, she found a place to live in Athens and some job prospects, and she did exactly what every parents hopes their child will one day do: she packed her things for good this time and moved away. I helped carry things to the truck and waved them on their way Drive carefully! Call me when you get there! and walked back into my house. I looked at the dogs, loungeing in the kitchen.
   "She's gone. She doesn't live her any more" I said. They wagged their tails. "It doesn't feel any different to you than any time she leaves the house- but it is. You don't know yet. But I do."

  I walked upstairs and opened the door to her room. It looked bleak and abandoned- if not exactly empty. I never thought I would be one of those mothers; one of those desperate, silly women who mourn when their children do exactly what they are supposed to do: grow up and get a life of their own. But I could feel a definite aching coming on.
   I decided the best way to combat it was to keep busy. I put on my audiobook, grabbed the vacuum cleaner and some boxes and start cleaning and sorting what was left in Katies- I mean, in the spare room. I took things down from shelves, dusted them and sorted "She's definitely going to want this eventually' from 'maybe' and "oh this is just trash". On the back of one shelf I found a picture of Clay Aiken and remembered, back when she was in middle school and I took Katie and her friend Blair and their red shoes downtown to see the American Idols on tour with their "We love you Clay" sign. I smiled.
   When I opened the closet, the shelf was still piled high. I started pulling things out to sort them and there, across the back wall, behind a straw hat, some embroidered purses and the sword she bought in Toledo SPain on a school trip, were the carousel horses. I reached out and touched them, traced my finger along their curving lines… and started to cry.

    See, it's not that she's gone. She's beeen gone before. I've gotten quite used to that. It's that it's not Katie's room any more. It still has some of her things stored here, but it's the spare room now. Ted has been looking forward to useing it for his bike trainer and to do morning yoga, and I decided that seeing it empty, with nail holes and carpet marks is just too forlorn. Too miserable. So I'm making plans: I moved a plant and some pictures up here, and I'm going to get a little bright throw rug. We've looked at a small sofa with a fold-out bed for the corner so Katie can sleep there if she ever visits overnight. I might set up a small table in the corner where her crib used to be and keep my watercolor things here- make it my 'den' again.
   Katie will probably think "Wow- Mom and Dad couldn't wait to get rid of me!". Because she doesn't know.

    I have a spare room now, where once I had a little girl with bright, laughing eyes and a deep belly laugh. I wouldn't trade the smart, sassy woman who just moved out for that little girl with her Dalmation wall stickers… but oh… I  find that I don't want a spare room nearly as much as I thought I did.