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My parents taught us that people who curse are only demonstrating a limited vocabulary and an inability to adequately express themselves. Sorry Mom and Dad — I’ve temporarily lost command of the Mother Tongue.

SERIOUSLY?! You have got to be fucking kidding me.

Senator Obama:

I am completely supportive of a ban on late-term abortions, partial-birth or otherwise, as long as there’s an exception for the mother’s health and life, and this did not contain that exception

Senator McCain:

Again…just again, an example of the eloquence of Senator Obama, health (indicates air quotes) of the mother. You know, that’s been stretched by the pro-abortion movement to mean almost anything…


Let’s set aside the fact that the GOP is supposed to be the party of minimal government and personal responsibility — the original MYOB party.

Let’s set aside the fact that pro-abortion is a fabulously ludicrous term. No one runs around wanting the abortion rate to rise. It’s not on any woman’s Top 10 list of Must-Have Life Experiences.

Instead, let’s talk about why a politician is better qualified to make decisions about my health than my doctor. Or we can talk about how we would decide where to draw the line between The Health of the Mother versus The Life of the Mother.

Please – spare me.

K was a high-risk pregnancy for about 27 weeks. I had had 3 prior unexplained miscarriages (2 of them back-to-back, immediately prior to this pregnancy); placenta previa; a 1 in 48 chance of the baby being born with Downs; and, approaching the ripe old age of 35, was considered of Advanced Maternal Age.

When we met with the genetic counselor, which my Perinatologist required, she explained all sorts of statistics to us — things no expectant mother wants to hear or consider. I was prepared for that. What I was NOT prepared for was when she said something along the lines of “if your baby turns out to have certain genetic disorders, it is possible that attempting to carry to term could endanger the baby’s life in utero and it could also endanger YOUR life…”

I don’t remember the rest of what she said. I don’t remember if she said I might have tough choices to make or if she said the doctor’s primary concern would be for my life… I just remember thinking that no matter how badly I wanted this second child, no matter how long we had waited and how much she was already loved, I would do everything in my power to ensure that my four-year-old wouldn’t grow up without a mother. Even if it meant terminating a pregnancy that was so wanted, so anticipated, so loved. I’m pretty sure that even my father — who is as Republican as they come — would agree with me.

I submit to you, Dear Readers, that a vote for Senator Obama on November 4 is a vote for life — a woman’s life.

As for you, Senator McCain…keep it up, my friend. You’re doing “Great”

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Fall is Here

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Last weekend we went to the Warner Fall Festival with a woman my husband works with, her husband, and two of their kids. He’s talked about Louise since this summer — she’s a newcomer to DH’s office and NH, too —  but this was the first time she and I had the chance to meet, and one of our first social outings at all since moving here.  So I was on my best behavior. Which you know is hard for me. Anyway, as we’re walking up the street we hear ABBA playing… at the same time Louise and I shout “OH MY GOD, I LOVE ABBA!” — and then we sort of look at each other, gauging reaction… and we break into grins and (shocked, shocked, you are) move more quickly in the direction of the music. We found its source, but it wasn’t at all what we expected.

We found about 16 women who had about 1,000 years of experience among them (go ahead…do the math) dressed in a sort of can-can girl type of Greek-looking traditional dress, doing a Tap Dance routine to an ABBA medley. On a street corner in small-town New England.

Seriously.

We stood there, staring, speechless. It was one of the most Bizarro things I’ve seen since moving here. It almost beat the woman riding a horse, leading a camel that was towing a man on roller blades. And THAT wasn’t even AT the fair. (Yes, really – I swear. I wish I had a camera.)

We had so much fun that afternoon that we took Louise’s daughter up on her offer to babysit Muppet and Louise’s 4 year old son (both of whom were ecstatic to have a real play date), and me, Danny, Louise and Ethan went to the local pub for drinks…which turned into dinner…

What an unexpectedly lovely way to celebrate my birthday — and the best present was meeting people I think we’ll become great friends with.

Yay us.

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