well…this is embarrassing. i haven’t blogged in over six months. but i miss writing for fun (as opposed to the writing i do for school, which is less “fun” and more “chinese water torture”), and i’m getting too wordy for facebook–i’m at the point that i have to revise my status updates for length, which is a sign i should be blogging more often. it might also be a sign that i need to get a life, but whatever. so i’m back to my old internet home, and hopefully you’ll pardon the virtual dust; i’m in the process of changing things around a little bit, but it’s happening slowly because 1) i don’t have much time, and 2) technology hates me. this is all assuming anyone will even read this blog anymore, which is a pretty bold assumption, considering six months of silence in internet time might as well be a million years. it’s fine, i like to live on the edge, so i’ll just keep typing and pretend i’m not talking to myself.

there’s a lot that’s changed in my life since i last blogged regularly, but i’ll try to spread the updates out over a few posts. for the purposes of what i’m about to say, all you need to know is that i just finished up my first year of graduate school in byu’s english literature program, where i am emphasizing in rhetoric. in addition to going to school full-time, i also work as a graduate instructor, teaching freshman writing and rhetoric at byu. up until i started school in august of 2011, i’d been a stay-at-home mom for over four years; i have two boys, ages five and three. i also have a husband, but his age is irrelevant.

life as a working/student mother is complicated. the emotional stress that accompanies managing a family is compounded by the pressures of academia and professional life, and my attempts to balance everything i want to do often leads to nightmarishly long days, followed by hellish nights spent in a haze of literary and rhetorical theory reading assignments and my somewhat-coherent ramblings rendered as literary or rhetorical criticism, which my professors are nice enough to read and give me feedback on. however, this process is made bearable, and even rewarding, for me by my family and friends, who are all incredibly supportive of my goals. i am thankful for the opportunities provided to me by the love and generosity of the people in my life.

one of the opportunities i am afforded by the time i spend at school is conversation with adults, which was an uncommon occurrence when i stayed home with my children. i was talking to a male friend a few weeks ago about some issue involving women in the workplace, and after i made a point favoring equal pay for women he rebutted with, “ugh, you’re such a feminist.” my response? “NO I’M NOT!” i was offended at his implication that i was somehow unfeminine because i wanted my work to be valued as equal to that of a man, and i didn’t want to be identified with the stereotypical ranting, bitchy feminist we see typified in hollywood and other mainstream media. i was relating this experience to my classmate and close friend the other day, and she said something to me that i don’t think i’ll ever forget. completely without judgment in her tone, she asked me, “do you believe in equality for women?” i nodded. “then you’re a feminist, alexis, and we need to stop fearing the term. we need to use it. we need to take it back.”

if i’d heard someone say this before last august, i might have dismissed it as the oversensitivity of a militant feminist ballbuster manhater. after all, what is “feminism”? it’s just a word, right? what can one little word really mean? now, though, after having spent countless hours in the study of the way words work and how entire cultures are formed around their connotations, i realize that words have nearly boundless power, both for good and evil. and feminism has been a power for good the world over when it has been used as tool to incite conversations about the ways in which women are treated differently than men, for no other reason that history demands it be so.

as i’ve thought over all this, i’ve come to a few realizations. first, that i am a feminist, and i always have been one, regardless of the fact that i refused to identify myself as such, for whatever reasons. second, that being a feminist doesn’t make me anything different than what i’d thought myself to be before i started using the “f” word. i still love to play sports, spend too much money on lipgloss, worry about my weight, offend people with my big mouth, watch byu football (and any other byu team), hang out with family and friends, travel, read, write, and a million other things, some of which might be called characteristically feminine, some masculine. none of these qualities are what makes me a feminist.

i am a feminist because i want to live in a world where i am afforded the same choices and opportunities as my male counterparts, assuming all variables are equal. does this mean i would choose to do something perceived as being “a man’s job”? not necessarily, but i’d like to have the choice to do so, and be compensated equally as well as any man would be for the same job. i am a feminist because in my home, i try not to constrain myself, my husband, or my children by enforcing what i see as arbitrary gender roles that are harmful, not helpful, to the construction of our identities. i am a feminist because i want to be able to express my opinion honestly without being told “you’ve got balls, for a girl,” and because i want to not be flattered when someone tells me that. i still have a lot of work to do in that area; it’s difficult to undo the effects of an entire lifetime of hearing praise constructed in masculine terms.

none of this is to say that i hate men, or that in order for me to be happy men must be miserable. this is a common misconception of feminism’s aims, and it has become a stereotype for a reason–there are plenty of feminists who are also manhaters, but i feel this has less to do with feminist ideology and more to do with personal experiences these women may have had with men. i have been lucky, especially as an adult, to have had many males in my life who’ve allowed and encouraged me to pursue the things that would fulfill me, regardless of what the world might tell me is suitable for a “woman in my position” to do. it has been the influence of these men, my husband in particular, that has shown me what wonderful rewards can be reaped where feminism is sown. sei, my husband, might not  consider himself to be a feminist, but he most definitely is, for he sees in me the potential to be anything i want to be, to have anything i choose to work for, regardless of my gender.

this post is getting obscenely long, but i wanted to be sure to mention one final thing. i am a feminist, yes, but i don’t mean to imply that i think men and women are the same. i understand there are inherent anatomical, biological, and even emotional and intellectual differences between men and women that are, in many ways, non-negotiable. i do not lament these differences, but celebrate them for their contribution to the richness of male-female interaction, which would be dull indeed if we were all the same. however, difference does not require inequality, which is what women must compensate for every day, whether or not they realize this counterbalancing is taking place.

i want to live in a society where i don’t need to waste my time and resources making up for ground lost simply because i wasn’t born with a penis. and that’s why i’m a feminist.

— Alexis

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i was in church today when i read a flyer with this quote on it:

Motherhood is not a hobby, it is a calling. You do not collect children because you find them cuter than stamps. It is not something to do if you can squeeze the time in. It is what God gave you time for. -Rachel Jankovic

my first thought was, wow, that’s so powerful and so true. i need to remember that more in my life–i should start putting my kids first more often.

and then i was like, wait.

first, a disclaimer: i don’t know who this rachel jankovic person is, and i honestly don’t have the time or desire to find out. i understand i’m not doing my bloggerly duty when i post an entry without having done an adequate amount of research, but it’s been a while since i wrote an uninvestigated, unfiltered rant on something, so i figure now is as good a time as any.

in case you don’t know me, some background: i have two children, ages four and two, and for the last four and a half years up till august, i was a stay-at-home-mom. since the end of august this year, i have been attending graduate school, working, and pretty much neglecting my housewifish and motherly duties–to a shameful degree, really–as i attempt to make something of myself. something having little to do with my family, other than that i would like for them to be proud of me. but i’m not deluding myself: i know going back to school is mostly about me, and i’ve come to terms with that. in other words, i’ve done the “dedicate self in entirety to family” thing, and now i’m doing the “must. talk. to. adults.” thing, so i’ve seen both sides of the coin. not to say that i’m any sort of expert on anything (other than which kind of skittles are the best–that, i have a lot of experience in), but i feel qualified enough to speak for myself.

and what does myself have to say? myself says that rachel jankovic has fallen out of the cuckoo tree, and maybe hit her head a couple (hundred. a couple hundred) times on the way down. i don’t disagree with the statement that motherhood is a calling. no indeed, i do not. it for sure is–for some women. for others, motherhood is a one-night stand, or an unexpected blessing that may have come from a tragic circumstance; an accident that turned out to be the best decision ever made, or perhaps a choice made on a whim. i don’t mind that rachel chooses to define motherhood as a calling for herself, but why must she make women who’ve stumbled onto motherhood in a totally different way to feel like they’re somehow failures?

and then she has to go and say that motherhood is “what God gave you time for.” and to that, i blow a huge raspberry. as far as i’m concerned, God gave us time on this earth to prove OURSELVES. and yes, part of proving myself in this life is doing right by my children, and i do agree with her that we will be held accountable for the way in which we raise our children. however, my children are separate people. got that? they are different human beings, rachel.

but the big no she di’int comes later in her post:

We should run to to the cross. To death. So lay down your hopes. Lay down your future. Lay down your petty annoyances. Lay down your desire to be recognized. Lay down your fussiness at your children. Lay down your perfectly clean house. Lay down your grievances about the life you are living. Lay down the imaginary life you could have had by yourself. Let it go.

ummm…no.

there are so many things wrong with this paragraph, i’m not even going to try to make sense of it–i know that’s a major transgression in terms of persuasive writing (or at least that’s what i tell my students day after day), but i have enough faith in whomever reads this to at least understand where i’m coming from.

like i said, i don’t disagree with the basics here. i am with rachel in the sense that we should live more humbly, be happy with the blessings we’ve been given and strive to serve others. but what she’s talking about here is wholesale martyrdom, and i don’t know why that’s appealing to people, but it’s not what God is asking of us, at least not right now. perhaps there will be a time when i will be required to lay down my life for my faith, but that day is not today, and why would i want it to be? why can’t i relish the everyday that i experience right now, and hope that tomorrow will be even better–that i will get an A instead of a B+, that i will have time to clean my house, that i will fight less with my children? none of those improvements would come to pass if i were to “lay down my hopes,” as rachel suggests–my hopes are often the only thing spurring me on to be better, to be the best, which is what i want to be, whatever rachel jankovic might have to say about that.

i don’t know, perhaps i am misunderstanding or even willfully misinterpreting this woman, and if so, my bad. i’m not going to say i apologize, because i really don’t. i’m not sorry that i disagree with her, and honestly, i feel like i was kind of holding back, if only for the sake of trying to sound less biased than i really am. if i were being completely uninhibited, i would’ve just said “this is stupid” and left it at that. look at me, being all reserved and stuff. lawlz guys, i’m a grownup.

— Alexis

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one day during the middle of last week, i was running out the door at 7:45–i had class at 8–and i was even more harried and wild-eyed than usual; i hadn’t finished the reading for my 8 am seminar, nor had i done the reading for my 12 pm seminar. i’d gotten down the stairs,  shoved all my books, papers, and assorted other crap into the passenger seat of my car, when i realized two things: 1) i was FREEZING because it was 35 degrees out and i’d forgotten to put on a coat, and 2) i had two different shoes on. i was seriously tempted to just carry on my merry way, but i capitulated to my nearly crippling vanity and booked it back up the three flights of stairs to my condo, ran to my closet to get the right shoe, and was back to my car in under two minutes. i was halfway to school when i realized i’d forgotten my coat again. and i was sitting at the conference room table, surrounded by my fellow grad students, panting from running up the stairs with my aforementioned mountain of crap, when i realized that i was only wearing one earring.

and that pretty much sums up my life as a mother/graduate student/freshman writing instructor/zombie.

a couple of things (among many) i’ve learned since going back to school:

1. there are some things that can be explained by the words “because i said so.” this includes the following: why the sky is blue, why we can’t buy a cat, why it’s a bad idea to eat three snickers bars and two packs of string cheese for breakfast, and why girls don’t need penises. this does not include the following: why a rhetorical analysis paper should involve only very limited use of the first person, why critical reading is essential to the teaching of writing, and why irony doesn’t need to be a part of life’s every observation.

2. treats make everything better, and not just for my toddlers; turns out, donuts work as bribes for my children, the freshmen in my class, fellow grad students, and tenured professors alike.

3. sleep is overrated. and i say this mostly because if i were to start thinking about sleep in any other way, i would just drop out of school now. seriously, i sleep never.

4. teaching is so, so, so much better than i could have imagined. when i first started school, i was terrified that i’d be an awful teacher, or even worse, not like teaching (actually, i suppose it’s debatable which of those two is worse, but let’s go with it). thankfully, my fears were totally unjustified. i love teaching like a fat kid loves cake. or like i love cake–tres leches cake, to be specific.

5. byu is awesome. this is something i already knew, but am having the privilege of relearning. the school gets a bad rap from ignorant people for being an insulated haven for conservative whackjobs, and though i’d guess there actually are some conservative whackjobs here, i haven’t met any of them yet. i am consistently humbled by the amount of talent and intelligence that congregates here, from the faculty down to the freshmen, and i feel truly blessed to be a part of such an amazing university. not to say that i don’t sometimes cry in the fetal position (or fall asleep on the floor under my desk in an office shared by like 60 grad instructors) because school is frickin hard–i totally do that. but i’m just glad i get to do that a school as awesome as byu.

*sorry this post took so long to put up. i promise to be better.

— Alexis

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i haven’t posted for five months. FIVE MONTHS. as far as a blog goes, five months might as well be five hundred years; for all i know, the people who read my blog might have all stopped using the internet or maybe been victims in a small-scale zombie apocalypse. hopefully that’s not the case, though, because i have a very fragile ego, and i’m not sure if i’d be able to go on blogging at all if all my readers were newly-made zombies and were therefore too busy eating people to read my shallow musings.

in any case, i come back to my blog in the spirit of meekness. i spent five months away from it, thinking i just didn’t have enough time to write about the things that make me go hmm or that piss me off or that make me laugh, and thinking that if i wasn’t spending time blogging, i’d be able to spend more time with my kids or learning how to sew or at least pretending to care that i don’t know how to sew. turns out, not blogging didn’t lead to my doing any of those things i thought blogging was keeping me from. i mostly spent a lot more time eating my feelings and taking my issues out on my husband.

i started grad school a month and a half ago. it has been even more insane than i thought it would be, but i’m not complaining; i feel exquisitely lucky every minute of every day. honestly, i’m still a little bit in shock that i’m finally following through on something i set out to do. i am learning so much, i’m inspired by my classmates, professors, and students, and i am consistently impressed by what an amazing man my husband is (as i type, he is bathing our boys, playing the guitar to them as they splash–the acoustics are good in the bathroom, i guess). but as giddy as i am to be in school again, i miss writing. which is kind of funny, because i write all the time for my classes, but i do (miss writing, that is). i miss the act of creating just for creation’s sake, of writing to express my feelings without consulting a syllabus first.  i didn’t fully realize this until i stopped blogging, but i got a lot of satisfaction from my blog, and much of it came from the fact that i was writing for fun almost every day, which is a luxury i’m really pining for at the moment.

so i’m back, whether you like it or not. i may be writing about some new things, since my life is on a slightly different course now than it was five months ago, but i’m still the same old me (although now that i say that, i’m not sure whether or not that’s an endorsement or an indictment).

i’m so excited to be back!

— Alexis

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today i’m 28 years old, and usually i make a huge deal about my birthday and bully sei to the point of a nervous breakdown, but this year i wasn’t so concerned. i was wondering why that was, and as i wrote in my journal this morning (yes, i still do that, and yes, i still write with a hot pink pen like i did when i was 15), i think i figured something out. in the past, i looked forward to holidays like christmas and my birthday (that’s right, i refer to my birthday as a holiday) for months ahead of time because it made me feel special when people fussed over me and bought me presents. the external validation was so important to me, and it never came so fast and thick as it did on my birthday. nevermind that people are almost obligated to be nice to someone on their birthday; i just liked feeling loved.

my pretty much insane and obsessive need to be appreciated on “my special day” really drove sei up the wall. where he comes from (samoa), birthdays just aren’t a big deal, at least not the way they are in the u.s. after the first birthday, which usually merits a big celebration with the entire family, the day passes without much fanfare. but in a society rampant with materialism and gotta-have-it mentality, a birthday is just another excuse to spend money, and i totally bought into that. sei didn’t understand why i would get so crazy about having the perfect birthday, but he always went along with my demands–whether or not he agreed with them–because he knew it was important to me. still, though, i know he still doesn’t completely get it.

i don’t really get it either, i guess. i always thought it was such a big deal to me because i’m just a vain and superficial person. while this might be partly true–i do like “things” a little too much, and i need to work on that–i saw today as i wrote in my journal that something much larger was at play. this is the first birthday in a long time that i’ve felt content. not just happy, because i’m generally a happy person, even when i’m depressed. but content. you know, like life could just stay as-is and you’d be pretty much all right? that’s how i felt this morning when i woke up. sure, there are things i want to accomplish and i’m no fan of stagnation, but for today, i feel like i fit. i fit in my life. on every other birthday for as long as i can remember, depression colored my perception so much that i felt uncomfortable in my own life, as though i was guest-starring in someone else’s role, and not doing a very good job of it, at that.

this past saturday, i got a letter from byu saying that they were offering me a graduate instructorship, which means i would be teaching a freshman writing class during my first year of grad school. i was completely ecstatic, since i was sure i’d bombed the interview (but when does anyone walk out of an interview and think, “nailed it!”), and this job is the job, you know, the job i’m hoping to get after i graduate. i applied to school in the first place because i want to teach at byu, and this really felt like a great first step in the right direction.

so i was all dancing my little jig and smiling ear to ear, and sei said something like “wow. things come so easily to you.” his tone was completely civil, but i was offended for a minute. i took it to mean he thought i don’t have to work for anything, and everything is handed to me with a side of fries. just the thought irritated the crap out of me, because i’ve never thought of myself as a person who just coasted along in life. i was getting ready to junk-punch him when he clarified that he thinks it’s cool how lucky i am, that i’ve been able to get everything i want. a little better, but still–i didn’t like the implication that i just snap my fingers and the world falls into place.

i thought to myself, i’ve had my share of trials, right? i’ve paid my dues, and i’m sure i’ll pay more, so i deserve all the good that comes to me…right? i never really came to a conclusion, and just pushed it out of my mind for the moment. it still irked, though. but this morning, as i wrote my annual birthday wrap-up of the previous year, i realized sei’s so right. so, so right. whether i’ve had a hard life or not (and many people would say not), i am an incredibly blessed–or lucky, if that makes more sense to you on a metaphysical level–woman. because as the saying goes, bad things happen to good people, and good things happen to bad people. if i just assume that i fall somewhere in the middle of the good-bad spectrum, all things considered, my life has been pretty amazing.

why, though?

i don’t know.

it sucks that some people seem to consistently draw the short straw of life. but i don’t worry too much about those people, mostly because i believe in a justice that extends beyond the bounds of earthly life. i think the people who have the most difficult burdens are the ones who are best equipped to deal with them, and will be rewarded accordingly in the hereafter. as for me, though, i’m not sure why i have it so good. i’m just thankful. and i’m going to hold on to this illusory serenity and preserve it for those moments of strife when i’m tempted to wonder “why me?”, because that question goes both ways, as i’ve realized today.

i guess that’s a lesson 28 years in the making–i’m thinking maybe i need to be demoted to the remedial life skillz class. so that’s why today, i don’t need a big to-do, because i already feel appreciated and loved and blessed. like i said, sei was right–i do have everything i want, and i couldn’t ask for anything more.

— Alexis

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tonight when sei and i were going through our night time routine with our boys, the four year-old volunteered to say the prayer. he thanked Heavenly Father for the usual things–a good day, his brother, etc.–then asked for the standard blessings–for him to be good, for everyone to be safe and sleep well. then he said something new: “and please bless us to be together forever.” i opened one eye to glance at my beautiful son, who was sitting on my lap, and instantly teared up at the image. he was sitting, arms folded around his stuffed winnie the pooh bear, eyelashes lying gently on his brown cheeks as he closed his eyes in a most fervent prayer.

i know religion isn’t for everyone, and God isn’t for everyone. but i don’t think any parent–or human, for that matter–can deny the awe children inspire when they truly believe in something, no matter what it is. my son genuinely believes that he is going to live forever with his family; even more importantly, he actually wants to be with us forever. i can’t quite explain the inadequacy that flooded my entire being when i heard my son pray for an eternity with me; in an instant i remembered every mistake i’d ever made, silently repented for my flaws as a mother, gave thanks that i’m not in this parenting thing alone. and in that same instant, i marveled that despite all my weaknesses and all the times i could have been more patient or less critical or more loving, my son still sees me as fit to accompany him into the eternities. after hearing this honest expression of my baby’s trust in my abilities, the weight of my responsibility as a mother hit me all over again, same as it did on the day he was born.

during a recent talk given at a worldwide lds conference, one of the leaders of my church spoke about parenting. among other things, he mentioned “difficult” children. he said that some children are just more challenging than others, plain and simple. then he said something that really struck me, for many reasons: he said that in his opinion, these children are sent to us because we, their parents, need them. i immediately thought of my older son, who i have a complicated relationship with. the truth is, this boy is nearly exactly like me. not only do he and i share many physical traits, he is also the apple to my hyper, inattentive, precocious, willful, inquisitive, affectionate, stubborn tree. i’m convinced that he gets along so well with sei because sei has learned to deal with me over the years, so dealing with a toddler version of me isn’t so different. i, on the other hand, apparently would have a hard time getting along with myself, if my relationship with my son is any indication.

not to say that i don’t love my son. quite the opposite, actually. i have loved and adored this child since the moment he was just a twinkle in my eye. i admire him, am blown away by his intelligence and fiery personality, and every day i find new reasons to marvel that this beautiful creature belongs to me. unfortunately, this love doesn’t translate into a perfect mother-son symbiosis. in fact, it is often only this complete adoration of my son that saves him from hourly 30-minute timeouts. we butt heads constantly, and if i’m not always on my guard, he knows just how to get his way, or to get out of trouble. it’s frustrating beyond measure, and i often question whether or not i’m doing right by him, if maybe i’m not meant to be his mother. it’s not uncommon for me to think that maybe another woman might have done a better job as his mom.

but then i remember the words of that wise man’s talk, that maybe these “difficult” children come to us because there is something we need to learn. in other words, maybe i’m the difficult one. maybe my son, perfect and innocent being that he is, is molding me into the woman i am supposed to be. this idea has revolutionized my world. although i still struggle to keep my calm when my boy is having a particularly unruly moment and must literally bite my tongue to prevent myself from telling him to be quiet when he’s asked me 84 questions about why tyrannosaurus rexes have such short arms (i still fall prey to that temptation occasionally), i see these experiences as opportunities for growth. the more belligerent he is, the more i must turn my criticism inward and ask myself what i’m doing wrong, what i need to change in order to be a better mother.

and if i still can’t bring myself to take the care that is necessary to lovingly explain to my child that it’s postulated that t-rexes’ arms were used to constrain prey during a kill, i’ll remember my son’s prayer. i’ll remember that he wants to be with me, forever. me.

and i want it to stay that way.

— Alexis

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the other day sei transferred some pictures from an old thumb drive onto my computer. i was going through the photos, which i’d thought were lost forever, and i came across this one. it was taken on one of the trips we took to costa rica with my family, before we had kids.

i distinctly remember feeling overweight on this vacation–i was still trying to lose the pounds i’d put on after sei and i got married. also, my hair looks a little bit grody and so forth, so don’t mind any of that. this isn’t really a good picture by any means, but it is one of the only ones i have of me in a bikini before having children (as if that needed to be said; i don’t wear any clothing that shows my stomach now, since i’m sure if i did everyone who looked at me would turn into stone). this picture is symbolic, not necessarily representative of any ideal or whatever. so don’t question my sanity in posting a picture of myself in a bathing suit; trust me, if i could have written this post without putting the picture up, i would have.

as i looked at the pictures of my pre-baby self, a lot of thoughts came into my head completely unbidden. i wasn’t aware of it at the time, but sei told me later that i had the saddest look on my face. although i wasn’t at all trying to solicit pity from my husband, he said that he felt really bad for me. my first instinct was to take offense at sei’s allusion to the fact that my body looks horrendous now, but i decided to take the high road and give him the benefit of the doubt. i know he meant he felt bad that i had to sacrifice a lot–and mostly by myself–in order for both of us to enjoy the happiness that our children have brought into our lives.

i try not to think of life in those terms, because that would just make me sad and bitter. but sei’s right–he really had to sacrifice very little, in the big picture sense, to have a family. sure, his day-to-day is different, and he has greater responsibility and more mouths to feed now, but i’m glad he knows it’s not the same as what i (and all mothers) face. just one look at this picture was enough to remind me of what i had to leave behind in order to move forward in the direction i wanted to take in my life. see the smooth, monochromatic skin? the cute, non-alienlike bellybutton? the shorts that are fastened by a tie, not held up by saggy elastic? notice the fact that this picture even exists at all? i had no idea i would be giving up all these things, and much more, when i told sei i was ready to have children.

this isn’t a rant about how my children have ruined my life and stolen my beauty, i promise (even though it’s totally true). i really, really miss this body in the picture, i do. i’m not going to lie. i fight every day with the urge to hate my reflection, but most of the time i feel like i’m winning, and i wouldn’t ask for this body back if it meant i couldn’t have my life exactly as it is now.

this is about being a woman, in general: the choices, the disappointments, the triumphs, the rewards.

i’ve had many discussions with friends and strangers about being lds. most people are curious, some are put off, others are indifferent. my favorites, though, are the people who try to convince me that i’m delusional because there’s no proof that god exists. how can i believe some guy living up in the sky created the earth in seven days and knows my every thought and action? you seem like a smart girl, they say. why choose to put your trust in a religion that requires you to have faith in things that can’t be seen? wouldn’t you rather know the truth? the hard, proven facts?

yes. i’d rather know the truth. and here it is, as i’ve learned in my very short and ordinary life: very little in this existence is incontrovertible. the fundamental nature of humanity is to question unceasingly, to search for answers and meaning wherever it can be found. i find meaning in faith. whether it be faith in people, in love, in god, i live and thrive on faith, and i don’t think religious people have a monopoly on it. everyone subsists on belief, no matter what they choose to call it, because no man knows all things.

rather than question why i must shoulder the lion’s share of the burden when it comes to having children, why the world works this way, why men have it so easy (lawlz), i choose to congratulate myself on contributing something lasting and important to the world. even though childbearing is in no way exclusive, each of us is exclusively able to bear our specific children. no one else could have brought my two boys into the world, and at the risk of sounding a little biased, i’ll say that i think the world is better because they are here.

this isn’t to say that i’m never going to complain about how hard being a mom is, not at all. i think a free whining pass comes with the episiotomy. but i might be over wishing that sei could have some of our kids and maybe share the stretch marks. along with my faith in a loving god comes a genuine belief that there is an order to all things. there are reasons men don’t have children (other than the…anatomical deficiencies). while those reasons aren’t necessarily crystal clear to me, i still know they exist. i refuse to believe that the world we live in is completely arbitrary, that there is no purpose to any of this.

so i try not to be sad about my poor stomach. i’ve grieved its passing and am ready to move on, if only so i can be ready for the next thing that my beautiful little demonspawn children decide to take from me.

over and out.

— Alexis

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i’ve been preparing for graduate school for the past three weeks or so, turning in the necessary forms, looking at class schedules, trying to arrange daycare for my kids. going to school this time around is nothing like the first time i went to college. then, i was spoiled and entitled; even though i was happy to have gotten into college and that i would be able to go, i had no idea how privileged i was, and i squandered my first semester staying up late, sleeping in, and eating disgusting amounts of fried food. this time, i marvel at the opportunity, and i am immeasurably grateful for the chance i have to further my education. i know not many women get the chance to go back to school after having children, and i am so very humbled that i’ll be one of the few.

the other day, i was talking to a friend about my decision to get a graduate degree, and she asked me how i would find time for everything. she said, “all i have time for is my kids. i couldn’t even think of going back to school right now.” i was a little surprised–this woman is college-educated, very intelligent, financially secure, and is more than young enough to make use of a master’s degree. all i’ve done since having kids is dreamt of the day when i’d feel ready to return to school, so that i could better myself, contribute financially to my household, and show my children that nothing should hold them back from doing whatever it is they want to do.

i think i was mostly disconcerted by her declaration that she spends all day, every day on her children. while i assumed this was hyperbole on her part, it still got to me. is that what society expects of me, to spend every waking moment giving my children everything? am i to devote all my energy, my intelligence, my love and time to making sure nothing bad ever happens to them? if that’s true, then i shouldn’t have become a mother. before having children i never, EVER envisioned motherhood as time spent in a cage of little fingers covered in peanut butter, but that’s how it feels sometimes, and i refuse to give in to that.

truth: spending all day with my children drives me crazy. by the time sei gets home, i’m a complete basketcase, and i have to sit on the couch and drool onto my collarbone for at least half an hour every night after the kids go to bed, just to restore myself to sanity. i love the little dudes, but man are they exhausting. on the days when i’m able to see my friends during playdates, or when i go to a doctor’s appointment alone, or sneak out for a walk through the bookstore while my kids are at a cousin’s house, i feel like myself. i can be totally content in my role as a mother because i have spent time just being a woman. how sad is it that a trip to the gynecologist is what it takes for me to leave my kids without any societal guilt?

being a stay-at-home mom has been my life’s greatest blessing and also its greatest challenge. before becoming a mom, i was irresponsible, self-indulgent, unwilling to serve others without reciprocation, and a complete wuss. although i am far from perfect now, i’ve grown more in the past four years as a parent than i did in the 24 years of my life before children.

still, though, i’m not convinced that this is all i’m meant to do with my life.

i feel stifled as a stay-at-home mom. there, i said it. i know i’m not living to my full potential here at home. perhaps it’s because i’m just not that great of a mom, and so i’d be better off using my time to do things i actually am good at. but i choose to think that i have too much to say and too much to give to spend 24 hours a day thinking about my kids. when i’m home all day, i’m not a very nice person. i get cabin fever, i yell, i take frustrations out on my family, and i feel like a jerk. i can only hope that making my way back into the wide world will give me the balance i need to be a whole and happy woman.

i know being a mother and a student/professional isn’t easy. but neither is being a stay-at-home mom. all mothers know one or the other (or both) of these to be true; this dichotomy is fodder for endless battles and bullying and judgy-judgy finger pointing. but i’ll have to just close my eyes and shut my ears to the criticism i might feel coming my way in the future, because i know i’m doing the right thing for me and my family.

i see it this way: not all women should be ballerinas; i know for a fact i would look hideous in a leotard. in the same way, not all women are suited to the mental, emotional, and physical requirements of stay-at-home motherhood. is it so bad that i’d rather be a volleyball player than a ballerina? no. no one in their right minds would criticize me for that. and yet, people think it’s perfectly acceptable to malign a woman for her choices regarding motherhood, whether it’s for one thing or another.

well, i don’t care. i’m going to be whatever the hell i want to be and no one can tell me otherwise. i’m going to go to school and graduate at the top of my class (ok, graduate), publish all these novels i have floating in my head and make millions of dollars and be sei’s sugarmama, and most important of all, i am going to be my kids’ best mother ever. because being a mother is my life’s crowning achievement, but there’s a whole lot of other stuff holding up that crown, and i’m going to do it all.

— Alexis

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i’m not sure how many of you keep up with ncaa men’s basketball, but there’s a good chance you may have heard something about a byu player, brandon davies, being suspended from the basketball team this past week due to a violation of byu’s honor code. the story has been all over the news–local, national, and international–mostly due to byu’s no. 3 ranking, as well as the fact that the team is built around the nation’s leading scorer, jimmer fredette. but since the story broke this last tuesday, a lot of other elements of the suspension have come into play, and pretty much all of them are being completely twisted by the media, by bloggers, and even by people within the lds community who should, in my opinion, just know better.

there are a few things that i’m really irritated about, and i’m not trying to change anyone’s mind here or place blame anywhere, i mostly just needed to express my annoyance with the ignorance of people in general. if you don’t mind, i’ll just go down the list of what’s getting on my nerves when i read a news item or hear people talking about the incident.

first: many who know nothing of byu other than its sports programs seem to feel totally comfortable offering their two cents about why they think byu is a soul-sucking, cult-driven institution whose main goal is to brainwash its students and hold back its athletes. these people seem to think that the honor code office somehow relishes the act of preventing young men and women from fulfilling their goals and being as successful as they can possibly be. when i read these types of comments on news stories or blog posts, it’s all i can do to stop myself from being a total troll and unleashing the full fury of my very colorful vocabulary on these morons.

byu students violate the honor code every day, of this i’m sure. but no one knows about it. why? because it’s most often handled in private, with only the student and his or her religious leader involved. in other words, most people seek help BEFORE they are caught doing something wrong, which is unfortunately often not the case with athletes, who for whatever reason may choose to believe they will never be caught. some say that these athletes think they are above the law, or that they have too much to lose if they were to come forward with an admission of wrongdoing; whatever the case may be, if any byu student chooses to wait until the honor code office gets involved, chances are the disciplinary action taken will be more severe than if they had been working through the issue with their bishop or other religious leader.

i understand that a lot of people think that the school’s honor code is too strict. that’s fine, think that if you’d like. the level of its strictness is really a non-issue in this case. every student, including brandon davies, knows what they are committing to when they enter byu. signing the honor code is a part of the application process, so it’s not as though it’s a big secret. as far as i could see from what’s being covered in the media, brandon davies has been nothing but gracious and humble in accepting whatever action may be taken by the school, and i’m sure a big part of that is that he knew what the risks of his behavior were. he made a choice, and now he’s facing the consequences. i don’t see how any of that could possible construed as unfair or unnecessary. if anything, it’s a model for what SHOULD be happening in the real world.

second: other people have played the whole race card, saying that only minority students who violate the honor code are exposed to the media. this type of talk disgusts me more than anything else, i think. brandon davies came forward about his indiscretion during one of the biggest weeks of the basketball season, when his team was in contention to be part of the final 4, and he’s one of the team’s star players. it’s not like byu called the paper and said, “hey, we’ve got a student here who’s getting kicked off the basketball team–would you like an exclusive?” no. from what i understand, someone in davies’ circle tipped off a news outlet about the whole thing, and the circumstances propelled the story to the top of the news. it was an issue of timing, not race.

and in any case, it sickens me that members of the lds church would even suggest that this has anything to do with the color of davies’ skin. no one can know what really happened unless brandon were to say it himself. same goes for other athletes (or any byu student) who are disciplined by the honor code office. i’ve heard several people drop hints about other athletes who may be breaking the honor code and are not being punished, and i think that’s incredibly disappointing. for one thing, we don’t know for sure what anyone is doing behind closed doors, and for another thing, we don’t know how those people are handling their specific situations. it’s completely destructive, irresponsible, and ignorant to even attempt to compare the situation of brandon davies with anyone else’s. each case is different, and therefore requires different treatment. it’s very unfortunate that brandon is being scrutinized in this manner, but the truth of the matter is that he’s a high-profile athlete in the midst of the best season in school history. however, it’s unfair to insinuate that the byu administration wanted anything to do with this media circus. that happened all on its own.

third: i’ve seen many, many comments bashing byu for its stance on premarital sex, which is allegedly what davies is being disciplined for. everyone and their mother seems to think that byu is unrealistic and oppressive for demanding sexual purity from its students. on top of that, people accuse the school of hypocrisy, saying that there are probably a lot of people committing this act, so it’s not fair to punish one student, especially when it could jeopardize his career. again, this comes down to common sense. whether or not you agree with the fact that sex before marriage is wrong, abstinence is what’s required by the school’s honor code, and everyone who attends the school knows this.

i’m sure that there are plenty of people at byu having premarital sex who don’t get caught, but there’s really nothing that can be done about that. if a student chooses not to come forward and isn’t informed on by someone else, chances are they’ll be able to finish their education at byu without ever being in danger of discipline. the enforcement of the honor code is mostly enabled by the students themselves, who are given the responsibility of managing their own decisions and dealing with whatever fallout may come. i don’t see this as hypocritical or unfair, i see it as an incredible opportunity to prepare for life beyond college. yes, davies’ career track might change, and yes, byu’s basketball team may not make it to the final four. it sucks, but the reality is that our choices have weight, they have meaning for us and for those we live and work with. no man is an island, and davies is finding this out the hard way. i say good on him, and good on byu. go cougs.

that is my vent for the day, and if you are still with me, i thank you for listening.

— Alexis

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you guys.

i got into grad school.

off to do my happy dance. and by that i mean sit on the couch and stare off into space with a stupid grin on my face while i freak out about being too dumb for grad school.

p.s. thanks for the well-wishes, i’m pretty sure it was all the good vibes that got me in.

— Alexis

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