Mama Zine

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I work shifts at the office. I obviously prefer the morning shift so that I can pick up my daughter from daycare when I’m done. But most of the time, I get the afternoon shift. During these days, I have nothing to do in the morning since my daughter is in daycare. Seeing the empty stroller and the empty crib and the empty playpen and my empty arms depresses me to no end and I just crawl back in bed and go to sleep until it’s time to go to work.

The other day however, I took advantage of my free morning to make the most awesome vegetable soup ever – potato, sweet potato, carrot, squash, zucchini, onion, fucking yum!

So then I thought that instead of being depressed and sleeping it off, why not “create” it off? Every time I feel depressed and engage in whatever creative endeavor, I always feel better. And since I’ve been putting off zine-production for far too long, maybe I can use my free mornings to do just that!!

I thought even if it’s just something quick, like a mini zine or a post-its zine, it could satisfy my hunger for zine-production in a jiff. I have just the topic for that and I know exactly what I want to write and how I want to make it.

Next week, I have free mornings on Monday, Tuesday and Thursday. Definitely more than enough time to bang out a few wonderful little sparkles of zine magic. Oh man, can’t wait!

Peace, love and Dr. Art is still in business.

Kosher Enough for Me

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I read a couple of my previous posts about Passover in past years and was amazed at how clean and organized I was and how not tired I was to clean the holy hell out of my apartment.

This year, I went Kosher Lite. Taking care of an infant involves not being able to clean your house for a wide variety of reasons:

  1. You’re tired as fuck.
  2. Your entire body aches from handling said infant for hours on end (that is an aching back, hips, legs, arms, neck…)
  3. You’re taking care of an infant and don’t have time for things like living your life, much less cleaning your house.
  4. Cleaning products produce toxic fumes that are dangerous to the baby and to nursing mothers.
  5. Your house gets dirty again within a couple of hours by which time you really couldn’t give a flying fuck.

And so it was that this year, my mom helped me out by cleaning the cupboards and the home appliances I NEVER clean, like the oven and the fridge.

My husband also did a bunch of cleaning. In fact, with his rubber gloves, a bucket in one hand and a sponge in the other, he would have made a perfect model for one of those “female porn” calendars. Such a cutie!

I still tried to do my part – washing the dishes and replacing them with kosher for Passover ones. But then I went back to the couch and resumed nursing my kid. I don’t really do much else. Frankly, I love nursing my kid so much that I prefer doing that more than anything else – writing, reading, watching TV, and definitely more than cleaning my house.

Anyway, the holiday provides no rest. Going back and forth from here to Be’er Sheva is a drag for my kid and her parents who would rather stay home where it’s quiet and comfy and dirty.

Peace, love and I’m at the office, missing my kid

Adam’s Rib

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It’s not every day that I can start a blog out this way but here it is.
So I was having this MySpace message conversation with Angela Gossow about feminism and all, which by the way, totally rules. And I went around for about a week thinking about it more in depth and started branching out in all directions.
A while back I read The DaVinci Code, and all fabrications aside, what Dan Brown says in general makes absolute sense. The fact that a woman can bring a child into this world can make her almost divine. But what about a woman who cannot conceive children? Is she any less of a woman? Is she any less worthy of extolment?
Having recently found out that I have a genetic disease that can manifest itself in more a extreme nature for any offspring I may have, I’m terrified to bring any child into this world, with this condition which can render him or her clinically handicapped. There are pre-natal tests which can determine if a fetus inherited the condition, but in case the tests come out positive, the pregnancy should be terminated. So if one day I have to face either options – of bringing a handicapped child into this world or aborting it – I will go insane. And I mean, insane in the sense that I will have to go to an asylum. Basically what I’m considering is instead of risking going mental or risking endangering a child, I can resort to adoption, but I digress.
The fact that I can’t bring myself to conceive a child, does that also make me any less of a woman?
Right now, the whole idea of the divinity of a woman seems a bit ridiculous, far-fetched and even discriminatory. I believe a woman should be respected, not worshipped. A woman is not a goddess, but she is a human being and should be treated as such.
This is what feminism should try to accomplish – to make those who treat women as sub-human, as property or as objects see women for who they are: human beings, and that they have the same rights every individual is entitled to.
Feminists who seek to make women into divine entities to be worshipped are missing the point of the equality between men and women.
Yes, saying "I’m a goddess, I kick ass, bow down, miserable males, for you are not worthy" may be empowering, but at the end of the day, we should recognize that we are only human, and we should thank God or Mother Earth for that.
Peace, love and I made an apple pie from the Tree of Knowledge! Yum!