Why ease in to 2012 when we can take a flying leap directly into the epicenter of the maternal conflict?

Sister blogger ButIDoHaveALawDegree graciously permits me to run her latest post here, in full, and I’m certain it will strike a major chord with you.  I’ve not read a better expression of the  maternal angst resulting from the false choice foisted upon us to either raise our children or provide for them financially.  As parents, as people, as mothers, we can do both, and should we wish to, we ought to be able to without impediment from out of date attitudes about gender, and employment practices designed for workers with no other competing obligation.   Families don’t look or function the way they used to, and in most US communities, paid employment is an economic imperative.  It is totally possible to bring the realms of family care and making a living closer together – already many parents run the house, raise the children, and go to work.  It ought to be easier to move between these two worlds within a day, throughout a child’s first months, and over an adult’s entire worklife as the caregiving needs shift and change.

The frustration, joy, love, ability and sheer grit revealed below show what we have to gain by removing obsolete ways of doing things,  and the cost of failing to remove them now.  This is what Law Degree has to say:

The Answer

I am happy staying at home, you know. Really. Notwithstanding all my recent posts on my devilish toddler, my guilt over splurging on a pair of boots, judgmental attorneys who hate women, and the monotony of my daily life, I actually am happy with my current job.

I am the first to admit I’ve been a bit of a Debbie Downer recently. I have a couple of excuses: First, it’s cold and dark outside. As I’ve mentioned before, this tends to bring on a funk each year, no matter my employment status. Second, this blog is my place to vent. For some reason, I have more of an urge to vent when I am sad than when I am happy. So the “wah wah wah,” “I’m bored,” “feel bad for me posts” tend to outweigh the “what an awesome day,” “my kids are the joy of my life,” “you know you want to be me posts.” When I’m happy, I don’t always want to write about it. I’d rather just live in the moment.

My last post was a particularly depressing one, in large part because I’d just gotten back from vacation. (Isn’t everyone depressed when they get back from vacation?). In any event, I suppose I can see why, to an outsider, it may seem like I am a miserable stay at home mom who regrets and laments walking away from my career. In fact, a commenter asked me this very question: “Why do you choose to stay at home? It seems as if you don’t enjoy it. Every single thing you typed is the exact reason I work outside of the home (the need for something other than monotony, the need to be intellectually stimulated, etc.). I have great admiration for SAHMs, and I’m not at all trying to judge, I promise. But, it seems that so many SAHMs are not happy…”

I thought this was an interesting, genuine question. So here’s the answer:

************

This job is hard.

Really hard.

It’s harder than my biglaw job for sure.

It’s all consuming and exhausting and there are no sick days.

It can be boring.

It can be isolating.

It can be demoralizing.

It can be completely unrewarding.

It can make you question who you are and who you have become and who you are supposed to be.

************

BUT And this is a big but.

Someone has to do this job.

And if someone has to do it, I want that person to be me.

I want to be here in the morning to wake the kids up.

I want to pick Braden up at school, even when he throws a tantrum and hits me and causes a scene, because I want to see him in his element and know his teachers and know his friends and make sure he is wearing his gloves.

I want to make sure that Casey’s food is cut up in teeny tiny pieces so that he doesn’t choke. I know that no one, not even my husband, will cut it up as small as me.

I want to be there for the tantrums.

I want to give the time outs.

I want to hug them when the time outs are over.

I want to witness the tender, most unexpected moments when Braden decides to make Casey laugh.

I want to volunteer at school events and host playdates. I want to take them to the park when it’s sunny out.

I want to take them to doctor’s appointments.

I want to take their temperature and make sure that they get all 1.8 mls of Motrin, and not a drop more.

I want to kiss their faces whenever I want to.

I want to kiss their boo-boos when they fall.

I want to cuddle with them both as much as they will allow me to.

I want to document this time in their lives – in my memory, in photos, in this blog.

I want to live and appreciate every single moment.

************

And here’s the thing: I could probably still do all of the above things if I was working outside of the home.

But, NOT working means that I can do all of the above things without added stress.

Without outside responsibilities.

Without the pull of billable hours or clients or bosses.

Without having to take vacation days.

Without having to monitor a blackberry.

Without distractions.

Without having to think of anything of real importance outside of the two most important people in the world to me.

And that is a gift.

A gift that makes all the tantrums and boredom and hard days worth it.

SO worth it.

************

Every night when I put Braden to bed we “talk about today.” We go through all of the day’s activities ad nauseam, and the narrative always ends with, “It was a wonderful day.” And you know what? I mean it. Every time. And as I tuck him in and leave his room, I silently mourn the day that has passed and know that it’s one less day I’ll have with him as a little boy.

The fact is, I have the best job in the world.

Thanks, LawDegree, for tellin’ it like it is.  Girls, let’s “mom up” , take care of ourselves and each other, and keep pushing for a world which cherishes us as much as we cherish our children.

“Til next time,

Your (Wo)Man in Washington

Click here to read more posts from Your (Wo)manInWashington blog.

Through therapy, philosophy studies and meditation, I’ve been working on quelling those fears and mistrusts of the outside world in favor of a little peace of mind. Nowhere has this change in my outlook been more challenged than in the realm of motherhood.

I do feel that in the contract I signed when I birthed this little life changer was a commitment to be his advocate. I find it bloody hard on a minute-to-minute, nanosecond-to-nanosecond basis, to know whether I’m advocating or being a paranoid pain in the ass.

My dearest friend is 5’ 4” and forever trying to see everybody’s side in any situation. If someone pisses her off, she tries to “throw some love at them” as she says. But this same friend has more than once, no exaggeration, entertained the idea of who she may actually have to fight to the death on the street because they presented a danger to her child.

In fact, of all the mothers I’ve met, most at some point or another have entertained a similar fantasy. And it’s rare I meet one (I’ve actually only ever met one) who doesn’t live life constantly considering how to avert certain disaster for their child; from their falling off of things, to failing things, to being hurt by things and people. You begin to wonder where that healthy mistrust of the outside world- AKA: caution, life experience, etc.  - turns into plain old, self torturing, crazy nonsense.

It’s the holidays. I’m home with my husband’s family. The child we arrived with sleeps in a crib and doesn’t eat any sugar. The first night here, we found out he’d be sleeping in a bed on his own, and the well intentioned refrains of “You’re not going to deprive him of Christmas cookies, are you??!” began. We shall see who the child I leave here with in two weeks is, exactly.

My initial response to these imposed sudden changes was to bristle. What I’ve had to realize is what is at the core of the issue for me. I used to control everything that went into this baby’s body, mind, and experience. Every morsel of it I had influence over. That is no longer the case. I’m rapidly loosing control and I’m trying to be all right with that. In order to raise a happy and well-adjusted, capable person, I’m essentially beginning to hand him over to the influence of the outside world. The same world that I find questionable. The one that moves at a breakneck speed and often breaks necks in the process. All the philosophy, therapy and meditation in the world can’t prevent that from being the hardest thing I’ve ever done.

But my son doesn’t belong to me. I don’t own him. I shouldn’t control him beyond what is reasonable.

So my Christmas gift to him and myself this year, in the interest of our developing a long, happy, healthy life together, is to begin a lifetime of letting him go while loving him as hard as I possibly can.

(That and a Thomas Tank Engine train set. )

Merry Christmas, baby.

I’m on the board of a small, parenting-related nonprofit organization, a board comprised of smart, thoughtful women who are mostly mothers of small children (and one dad, though our father pool is growing). In addition to our full-time parenting jobs, pretty much all of us have professional jobs, or are students. We’re all juggling a lot of balls, and we all take on this additional volunteer job as board members because we believe that the work of this organization is world-changing.

Photo credit garryknight/Flickr

Recently, we’ve endured a spate of board resignations. Each ex-member articulated a variant on the same theme, something to the effect of:

“I just can’t take the guilt anymore. I feel guilty in all parts of my life for not giving enough. I care so much about this organization, and I just can’t face caring about something so much and not do it well. I’d rather just not do it at all than do it poorly. I’ll let someone else step in who can give it her all.”

The trouble is that there’s no one who can give it her all. Smart, capable women who care about our organization? They abound. Guilt-free women with boundless energy who will consistently give all that they’re capable of? Uh, yeah. At last count, I knew exactly zero of them.

My suspicion is this: The future leaders of our organization are out there, consumed by a state of guilt paralysis. They’re out there examining their inboxes crammed with un-responded-to messages. Eyeing a pile of unwritten thank you notes. Trying not to glance at the choc-a-block family calendar. Perhaps reading this article. Writing this piece. All of us out there, relentlessly measuring and grading the attention we’re giving to the many things we care about. And failing to measure up. As a friend of mine once said, “feeling less like we rock, and more like we suck.”

(Disclaimer: If you’re thinking, “Is the writer some kind of guilt expert?” The answer is no. I’m no psychologist, evolutionary biologist, or anthropologist. Guilty as charged. Still, I’m going to engage in some pop versions of all three, to try to explore this jagged terrain called guilt.)

Guilt in our culture is a particularly feminine affliction. Its paralyzing effect on women is something I suspect we’re all familiar with—whether from first-person experience or from loving a guilty mother, sister, friend, or partner. For many of us, becoming a mother only exacerbates the guilt. As a parent, you’re now responsible for something particularly fragile, precious and dependent, and the buck couldn’t stop anywhere closer than right here.

As a guilt-ridden gal and mama, I’ve got a small library of books about women, motherhood, and guilt. Motherhood in the Age of Madness, by Judith Warner. This is Not How I Thought It Would Be, by Kristin Maschka. The Motherhood Manifesto, by Joan Blades. They all describe the phenomenon by which American women are stuck with outdated cultural expectations and support systems, while being served an ever-increasing helping of responsibilities in the name of opportunity and equal access. The contemporary expectation is that we’ll be both breadwinners and cookie bakers; professionally successful at meaningful jobs, with excellent, infallible childcare; ever-present parents who have endless patience; and also modern women who take care of our partners’ needs and our own, too. And that’s the short list.

While the division of household labor has radically shifted in the past 50 years, the emotional caretaking and relationship work is harder to redistribute than the obvious tasks, like who washes the dishes or puts the kids to bed. To the degree that emotional caretaking is still, in many cases, the purview of women, guilt about not giving enough to others is still a particularly feminine legacy.

The different relationships that men and women have with guilt have been explored ad nauseum, usually to the tune of “why are women so guilty and men aren’t guilty enough?” A number of studies suggest that men are “guilt deficient,” while women suffer from “destructive guilt.” Most studies come to the unfortunate conclusion that guilt is biologically based, and take the analysis no further. Others ask the cultural question, “How do we get men to be more guilty, and women less so?” Which also doesn’t seem like the right question to me.

I don’t know about the value of more guilt for men. That’s a topic for another day. Instead, I want to address what women do with their guilt. If guilt can be paralyzing, what antidotes actually give us momentum to be the sorts of women and mothers we want to be?

After three months of maternity leave, I remember dragging myself to work intensely sleep deprived, struggling to focus my brain and get through each day. I kept waiting for someone to give the lie to my less-than-stellar performance. But months went by, and it became apparent that: 1) All the other new parents were doing exactly the same thing; and 2) More amazingly, no one even seemed to notice. It turned out that the implied expectation of consistent, top-notch performance at all times isn’t possible—for anyone—and also that giving whatever you’ve got, however much that is, is sometimes just plenty.

Back to the nonprofit board: When our organization would be so much better off with even a fraction of what these amazing women are capable of giving, why is it so hard for women to imagine that we might give less than we want to, but less might still be good enough?

To date, I’m aware of only one practical, momentum-giving answer to feminine guilt: the “good enough” approach. Good enough means striving not to reach our maximum potential in all things, but instead to be a “good enough” partner, worker, citizen, mother, and self, and to be honest with ourselves about how little is really needed to make a difference sometimes.

It’s exceptionally hard to do. We are calibrated to measure ourselves against the scale of perfect performance—not the “good enough” scale. Recalibration goes against the grain of culture and the world around us. The terms we have for talking about good-enough-ism are all about mediocrity, or lowering our standards.

But I’d say that good-enough is about realism. It’s about allowing us to unevenly distribute our personal resources, and to find a way to feel good about that. To continue showing up for the things we care about, and to consistently make peace with the mismatch between our personal potential and what energy, time, and attention we really have to give. Because just working through the guilt paralysis in order to show up is sometimes—maybe even most of the time—good enough.

Misty McLaughlin is a parent by vocation, a nonprofit web consultant by trade, and a writer and seamstress by fits and starts. Among other topics, she’s passionate about exploring issues of gender and generation, helping other households to find cultural loopholes that allow them to make their own models, and promoting institutional support for rebooting our roles. Follower her on Twitter @mistymclaughlin.

Photo credit garryknight/Flickr

My son throws himself down on the floor and says “Me fall down!” Then I throw myself down on the floor and I say “Me fall down too!” And here’s the genius part. I can sometimes close my eyes for up to 10 seconds at a time while I’m lying there! If I can manage to gently pin him under me when I fall down, it’s possible to extend that 10 to a luxurious 15 or even 20 seconds! But I know it’s a foolish pipe dream to hope for those kinds of results consistently before the second half of the game kicks in which involves my son yelling “GET UP MOMMY! GET UP!”

This is all part of my desperate grab for some rest and relaxation that’s been going on for around, well, (how old is my son?) just over two years now. In the context of my current sleep-deprived-mother-of-a-toddler life, these precious seconds of shuteye pretty much constitute a power nap.

I’ve also figured out that I can do a little bit of yoga around the house providing I don’t mind that when I’m in down dog, my legs are used as a climbing apparatus, and that when I’m resting in shavasana, sometimes it may involve a toy car being rolled over my face.

I’m insanely tired. I’m insanely happy. And sometimes I’m just plain insane.

Sometimes this insanity and exhaustion make me behave like a stranger. I watch this woman from a remove, and I don’t always like her so very much. She seems intolerant and petty. But truthfully, more often, the insanity manifests itself in gales of insane laughter. There is a lot of laughter in our house.  I often consider what our neighbor hears through the wall and realize that there are much worse problems to have in your home than that you laugh an absurd amount because you feel overly tired and kind of nuts.

How do you sneak in much needed moments of rest and relaxation, my dear mothers?…

As my friend told me proudly of her husband’s accomplishment, the two of us couldn’t help but be inspired by this personal triumph. A type 1 diabetic, he had trained and prepared for months, hoping to finish the run in less than four hours, and finally completing it- exhausted, depleted, and pushing himself through a serious sugar imbalance- in 3:52. He’d told her about things he’d witnessed in others near the finish line, like bleeding nipples, runners crying, speaking in tongues, and yelling at their own bodies for not being able to go on.

It slowly dawned on us. The experience that he had just crammed into the course of a 26-mile run wasn’t that far off from what she and I had gone through two years earlier when we each gave birth and then breast-fed our newborns for many months. The insanity, the non-sensical rambling, persevering through total depletion, chafed and bleeding nipples, and crying… LOTS of crying. It all just sounded alarmingly familiar. The marathon runners may have just touched on what we lived through over the course of many months.

Perhaps every man should be required, by law, to run the NYC Marathon one time for every child that his wife gives birth to. Maybe it would bring about a deeper empathy and understanding between all couples.

And when I think of something as “undoable” or “unattainable”, perhaps I should cast my mind back to how I pushed a human being out of my body and then learned how to keep it alive, with no proper training and while completely sleep deprived. How I felt simultaneously ripped apart and all powerful in the week after I gave birth. Everything was vivid and vibrant around me. The fragility of my baby combined with the enormity of the situation was mind altering. When I think I can’t do something, perhaps I can try to recall how I felt like a torn and tattered wonder woman back then, and recognize what that wonder woman has been able to accomplish.

All these plans lead to the most wonderful day of our lives – October 5, 2008 – the birth of our sweet little boy Thomas.  It was an overnight labor and unexpectedly complicated birth but, he was here – healthy and beautiful – and we were blissfully exhausted.

The hours after Thomas was born were chaotic. As we transitioned into parenthood, our carefully prepared efforts for a controlled, peaceful experience were not quite the reality.

The bag I packed with organic cotton onesies, natural vegetable-based and unscented soap was missing (maybe it was in the car or still at home?), and in our hazy euphoria with Thomas in our arms we didn’t think much about it. I was surprised when the nurse took Thomas to the sink for his first bath so quickly.  My plan indicated that Thomas be washed with just water, or at least with the soap that we carefully chose for him but, before I knew it, out came the bottle of Johnson & Johnson Baby Shampoo – a product I knew to come up short of the natural standards I had set in advance – and Thomas was sudsy and washed and returned to me quickly.  I remember feeling like I wasn’t in control of what was happening and disappointed that my trusted hospital didn’t have the same standards of safety that I had.

Didn’t they know that J&J Baby Shampoo contained the carcinogens formaldehyde and 1,4 dioxane, as well as chemical numbing agents to ensure their “no more tears” promise, and a list of chemical ingredients I couldn’t pronounce, let alone know the safety data on?

Just yesterday I read that, in response to pressure from the Campaign for Safe Cosmetics and its allies, Johnson & Johnson will be phasing out the formaldehyde-releasing preservative called quaternium-15 in all of its baby products worldwide. This is great news, no doubt about it. But I cannot understand why they allowed these harmful ingredients in what is marketed as a pure, mild product in the first place. Why does it take two years of consumer activism to get a company like J&J to start living up to their promise – especially when they already sell less-toxic formulas in other countries? How can they be a “#1 trusted” company if their track record shows that they are willing to keep toxic chemicals in their product for a savings of pennies per bottle? And lastly, when will this phase-out happen, and in the meantime, how many newborns will have their first bath in a stew of carcinogens?

Thomas’ first bath was like his ‘baptism’ into our toxic world and I know now that while there are opportunities for me, as his mother and protector, to limit his exposure to chemicals that may be harmful to his developing body, I can’t “shop my way” into a toxic-free world for him.  As long as untested, unregulated and unlisted chemicals were allowed into our consumer products, our children will be guinea pigs in this experiment in free-market consumerism.

I’m frustrated with the broken system that allows toxic chemicals into products intended for our most vulnerable population.  Children bear a higher toxic body burden than adults, and are more vulnerable to damage from toxic chemicals.  The only way out of this toxic mess is for parents and others to band together to support the Safe Cosmetics Act of 2011, and demand products that are known to be safe before they enter the market, that fully list the components and ingredients used to make them, and to have government oversight enforcing these safety standards.

Join me in demanding change by asking your U.S. Representatives to actively support the Safe Cosmetics Act of 2011. And while you’re at it, please give J&J your two cents too!

Erin Boles

Interim Executive Director of Massachusetts Breast Cancer Coalition, and Mom

Hold on. What?!

We were shocked when we read a new report by the Campaign for Safe Cosmetics that showed that formaldehyde-releasing chemicals is still in Johnson and Johnson baby shampoo in the United States. [2]

But when we read that Johnson and Johnson is now selling versions of the shampoo in Denmark, Finland, Japan, the Netherlands, Norway, South Africa, Sweden and the U.K. that DON’T contain formaldehyde-releasing chemicals, we were outraged. [3]

So MomsRising, along with the Campaign for Safe Cosmetics and other groups representing 4 million people, sent a letter to Johnson and Johnson on October 31st asking, “Why the double standard?  Why sell safer products in other countries but not here?”

And guess what? The voices of moms were heard!

On November 1st, the company released a statement saying it is no longer introducing new products with formaldehyde-releasing preservatives and it is phasing out these types of preservatives in baby products worldwide.

Now it’s up to us to thank Johnson and Johnson and to let Johnson and Johnson know that consumers are watching so the company actually takes the steps it promised to protect the health of kids in the United States!

*Tell Johnson and Johnson “Thank you!” — and share that you’re excited that they’ll be taking toxic chemicals out of our children’s tubs:

http://action.momsrising.org/letter/Stop-Toxic-Baby-Shampoo/

(After you sign on by clicking the above link, we’ll also be sure to let you know when we hear that the baby shampoo has actually been reformulated.)

As parents, we know how far words of encouragement will go.  Words like “You can do it!” can motivate a child to finish their homework.  The mantra “I think I can” even moved a little train up the mountain.  Your quick note to Johnson and Johnson can help get toxic chemicals out of tubs across the country.

*Don’t forget to tell Johnson and Johnson thank you, and that every baby – regardless of where she or he lives – should be protected from carcinogens:

http://action.momsrising.org/letter/Stop-Toxic-Baby-Shampoo/

And please send this link to your friends and families so they can sign on too — or post the link on your Facebook page. The more voices, the stronger our “We think you can” message to Johnson and Johnson.

[1] No More Toxic Tubs, Campaign for Safe Cosmetics:http://action.momsrising.org/go/1334?akid=3003.1819851._OOlL9&t=9

[2] Baby’s Tub Is Still Toxic, Campaign for Safe Cosmetics:  http://action.momsrising.org/go/1335?akid=3003.1819851._OOlL9&t=11

[3] Baby’s Tub is Still Toxic, Campaign for Safe Cosmetics: http://action.momsrising.org/go/1335?akid=3003.1819851._OOlL9&t=13

Meanwhile, there are something like 80,000 chemicals pervading our atmosphere, food, toys, and clothing, the majority of which have never been tested for safety.  In fact, there has been no federal legislation passed to control toxic substances since the Toxic Substances Control Act (TSCA) was enacted in 1976.  As someone who shares that legislation’s birthdate, let me state it in plain terms:  if TSCA were a woman, she’d be counseled to go for a baseline mammogram and warned by her OB/GYN that she’s officially considered of “advanced maternal age!”

I’ll admit that I’m prone to pitching the occasional tantrum – hey, my two-year-old needs a role model! — when I consider the quality of our polity, the kookiness of the candidates, and the message it all sends to our kids.  But then, on a typical workday, I head to my office and join a team actually trying to do something about it. 

I’m fortunate to work at Rachel’s Network, an extraordinary nonprofit network of women funders across the U.S. who share a commitment to the environment and come together to exchange ideas, develop their leadership, and maximize their influence.  Last year, we joined forces with The 2012 Project, a nonpartisan campaign to recruit women in underrepresented fields to run for Congressional and state office in the 2012 elections.  With Congressional redistricting afoot, there are unprecedented opportunities for new candidates to enter the political pipeline.  What’s more, with the prevailing government-is-yucky mood, the odds have never been better for a fresh face to win the race.

Rachel’s Network is reaching out to women environmental advocates like you, issuing a call to consider running in 2012.  (Do it!)  Earlier this year, we released an original study that revealed that over the past ten years, women in the U.S. House of Representatives and Senate, regardless of party, voted in support of the environment at rates that far outpaced those of their male counterparts.  We can only conclude that one way to redirect lawmakers’ focus to the environment is to place more women at the decision-making table.

Does this mean all women are biologically programmed to be staunch defenders of the planet?  Obviously not – there are plenty of female politicians with ideological positions, shall we say, inimical to our cause.  However, women still make most of the purchasing decisions that affect our families’ health and safety, and women like you have already taken steps to create a more just society, or you wouldn’t be running with the MomsRising crowd in the first place.

That’s why we’re approaching communities like this one to invite women like you to consider running for office.  (Do it!)  Overwhelmed by the thought of adding yet another commitment to the daily grind of work, carpool, dinner, basic personal hygiene, and making a convincing case that Play-Doh “needs to sleep in the kitchen?”  We’ll connect you with women who’ve been in your shoes and can offer tips on how they made it work. 

Not sure your experience qualifies you for the job?  Woman, please.  For starters:

1. You clearly care about your community’s health and welfare.
2. If you want to serve your community, there’s no better platform than public office for advancing the issues that matter most to you, whether that means banning BPA, making quality health care available, or funding early education for all kids.  
3. Seriously, can you picture a man looking himself in the mirror and saying, “I dunno…I’m not a lawyer…all I have is an advanced degree, 20 years of work experience, deep roots in my community, and a commitment to creating a better world”??

So ask yourself:  Why not you?  Why not now?  And do it!

With the 2012 elections now a year away, we need names.  If you – or a woman you know – might be interested in running for office but haven’t taken the first step, let us know by contacting me.  Our office will connect you with the vast network of training resources assembled by The 2012 Project and help you secure the support and guidance you need.  Sign up your sister, your boss, your aunt, your best friend, your neighbor, or yourself.

If you’re waiting for an invitation to run, this is it:  please run.  (Do it!)  Your commitment to healthy families and communities qualifies you to serve.  Your fresh perspective could influence the direction of important policies for years to come.  When you next reflect on how disappointed you are in the leaders you see in the news, and you find yourself using language you don’t want your kids to repeat in public, don’t get mad – get elected!

I first learned about Global Zero and it’s mission to eliminate nuclear weapons when my son Derek became Program Director for this international organization. Imagine my dismay when I learned that there are 8500 nukes in the U.S. and that they’ll cost $600 billion over the next decade!

How can our government justify such expenditure while cutting budgets for education, health care and other vital services our children need for a strong future? Is it even moral to spend $600 billion on useless cold war relics that make us less safe through risk of accident, miscalculation and the real possibility of terrorists getting their hands on these weapons?

If like me, you think we should cut spending on nuclear weapons instead of the things we really need, then join me in signing this cut nukes petition: http://cutnukes.org.

My passion and enthusiasm for a world without nuclear weapons truly ignited after I volunteered at Global Zero’s GZDC Conference in Washington D.C. this past April. Surrounded by all those incredibly bright, intelligent and visionary young people (like those pictured above) working on difficult policy issues, trying to find ways to save the world from a nuclear catastrophe, made me feel SO proud as a Mom and renewed my faith in the goodness in all of us, young and old.

I decided to become a part of this amazing movement. So when Global Zero launched the Cut Nukes campaign earlier this year, I posted the petition on my Facebook page asking my friends and family to sign online. I also wrote letters to the editors of my hometown newspaper and The Cedar Rapids Gazette. I carry the paper petition wherever I go, like the hospital where I volunteer, the women’s center where I volunteer as an ESL teacher and to our library where I work. Soon, I’ll speak to some of the clubs and organizations in my town and have a discussion with the Jr. and Sr. High students in our Talented and Gifted Program, possibly to get their help in gathering more signatures.

So, Moms, grandmas, ladies, please join me in telling our leaders to STOP spending money on nukes and invest in our children’s future instead, by signing the Cut Nukes Petition: http://cutnukes.org!
. I believe that Mom Power can change the world!