Women Who Inspire: Clara Barton and Memorial Day

I recently found myself enjoying some child-free time and watching a documentary on the Civil War (yes this is how I choose to spend my free time).  Clara Barton and her humanitarian actions were mentioned several times during the film and I found myself drawn to her story.  Her actions during, and even more so after, the Civil War reminded me what Memorial Day and true patriotism is truly about.

The documentary, American Experience:  Death and the Civil War, focused on how the war changed our perspective on death in this country.  One of the points it discussed was how the military and the government were forced to revise how they dealt with the business of death.  Prior to the Civil War there was no government supported ambulance service, burial details, means of identifying fallen soldiers, compensation to living relatives or even a system to notify family members of a death.  These duties traditionally fell on individual commanders.  The sheer numbers of casualties during the Civil War, however, were too great for those commanders.  So the dead and wounded were not given the treatment they so deserved.

During the Civil War strides were taken to remedy many of these issues.  Ambulance services were started to carry the wounded and dead from the field.  Individuals began making a greater effort to place names on bodies and record where they had been left.  Hospital registries were created to notify family members and answer their inquiries.  National cemeteries were set up, including one at Gettysburg where President Lincoln gave the famous Gettysburg Address at it's dedication ceremony.  

Clara Barton was working in Washington DC when the Civil War began and as soon as wounded Union soldiers began arriving there she was at their sides, nursing them back to health.  Not long after she moved her work to the front, taking with her wagonloads of supplies and working side by side with the field doctors. 

Clara Barton (National Archives)

It was her work after the Civil War that most impressed me the most, though.  As many of those involved with the war headed home to celebrate their victory, or mourn over their defeat, she recognized that the work was not yet done.  Thousands of soldiers were still missing, some were wounded and still recovering in various hospitals, but many of them were left in unmarked graves or worse yet in abandoned fields.  She started working with the War Department and founded the Missing Soldiers Office.  There she personally conducted interviews, collected statements and began a database of information to determine the fate of hundreds of Union soldiers.  At one point she even led a team to Andersonville, Georgia a Confederate prison camp, with a soldier who had once been held there.  His information helped Barton locate hundreds of men, and even identified many of these.  All of these men were reburied in National Cemeteries.  Her efforts helped many and spurred the government into taking more drastic measures to help others learn the fate of their loved ones. 

What her story reminded me of was that while the government has a responsibility toward its citizens, especially those that have served and died in its defense, we too must not forget that we have our own duty as private citizens. 

"If I can't be a soldier, I'll help soldiers." 

- Clara Barton

Unlike many of the others who took up the banner for the soldiers during the Civil War Clara Barton had no personal connection.  She was not spurred by a loss of her own.  Instead she simply saw that help was needed and she offered it.  The only thing motivating her was a deep sense of patriotism.  So on this Memorial Day I suggest that we all take a little inspiration from that.  It is our duty, not as mothers or daughters or sisters or wives of soldiers but simply as American citizens, to give the honor and respect that is due to each and every soldier. 



Support Our Troops - a great list of ways that you can show your support

If you know of other ways that a private citizen can to 'help soldiers' please feel free to post it here in the comments section.

Why I Don't Exercise

If you have spent any time online looking at popular blogs, especially those written by fellow ladies and moms, you've no doubt run across a slew of them discussing their latest marathon, or how they make time to go to the gym, or the new yoga class or fitness regiment they just began (or even more sickening that they have been successfully doing for years).  Well this is not one of those blogs. 

I read those blogs and I end up walking away from the computer, or putting down my phone, feeling like 'Sure I could do that, hell I SHOULD do that...'  They inspire me, sometimes I will even do more research and consider starting something up myself.  Somewhere between twenty minutes and 5 days later, however, I realize what a complete idiot I was for even thinking I could aspire to those heights.  I don't exercise.  I never have.  I doubt that I ever will with any real conviction.  Here are my reasons why:

Gyms

At first it would seem that a gym would be a great idea!  (yes exclamation point because otherwise I might not get excited about this whole exercise thing)  To begin with I would be paying membership dues, unless I get it free somehow through work (which did happen once, will get into that later), and that might just kick me in the pocketbook enough to actually use their services instead of letting the money go to waste.  They have trainers who will help keep me motivated and teach me the proper way to do all this healthy physical stuff, they have classes like yoga, zumba, spin and hey all of those sound fun.  So yeah maybe I should join a gym! 

Except... To begin with I have to get to the gym.  And this may sound easy, you get your stuff, you get in the car, you drive there.  But I have two small children, so this becomes monumentally more difficult.  Now I must find someone to watch my children, on a regular enough basis to make this membership fee worth my while. 

I could ask my husband, I am probably owed a few hours a week of time without the children and since he is half of the reason they are on this planet in the first place maybe he should be the one to take them.  But there is that 'regular basis' thing that makes this hard.  Being the breadwinner in the family he has a lot to do, until recently he was holding down a job and going to school in the evening, and when he isn't going to school he is often working overtime hours.  And since weekends often revolve around family activities (and I would really need to go more than one a week anyway), this can be difficult to work out. 

I could get a baby sitter.  I could find someone to come over and take care of the kids for me.  I would have to find someone, and convince them to regularly take my children off my hands, which means realistically I would need to pay them.  So now I am not only paying a membership fee, but now I am also paying a babysitter.  This is getting expensive.  And possibly scheduling-wise complicated.

I could just find a gym that has a child care watching facility.  I use the term facility loosely... I imagine these 'facilities' are really just colorfully painted rooms stuffed with toys and maybe a TV where some college kid sits around watching my kid for an hour or so.  While I have never verified this, I admit this completely, I would suspect that the price for such a gym goes up, again back to expensive.  And while I am actually, almost, completely ok leaving my children for an hour or so with another human being that I have not done a complete back ground check on prior to this occasion, I am not sure how well it would work.  My son would be very upset about not going to 'work out' with mommy, especially once he caught sight of all those glittery child smashing machines in the gym.  In addition I would have to get the kids ready... pack the diaper bag, get them in the car, out of the car, wrangled past the machines and into the colored room... I was not planning on doing half of my regiment before I even arrived. 

But okay, I pick one of those solutions albeit not a perfect one and actually get rid of my beautiful children so I can exercise... now what?

First I would have to venture into the locker room.  Need I really go on?  What woman actually enjoys a locker room?  Do you change out in the room, where everyone can see you, and the pair of panties you wore that inevitably have a stretched out waist band?  Or do you go into the stall and seem prudish?  Do you weigh yourself on the conveniently placed scale by the door?  Do you shower before the workout?  After the workout?  Is there a system for obtaining a locker, and a lock?  And dear lord how many different scents of perfume can actually mix together before it becomes a hazardous gas? 

If I have not completely broken down of an anxiety attack at the locker room then it is time to actually venture out into the gym floor and do what I intended to do in the first place, exercise.  It seems that there are two types of gyms, those that allow both genders and those that allow only women.  I have several friends who love going to only women gyms, they claim it really helps them focus and feel less judged.  To these comments I have always nodded as if I knew what they were talking about, when in fact I admit I have no clue.  I would never join a women only gym.  First reference my comment about perfume above.  Second, what do you mean they don't judge you?  Women are some of the most judgmental and nasty creatures I have ever met.   They might not say it to my face, but I know as soon as I leave that locker room they are at least reviewing every single stitch of my elasticly-disabled underwear mentally, if not in whispers to each other.  Honestly I would prefer a gym full of men, preferably hot men.  I know that I look decent enough to get a few looks and I might get some real full on flirts too, and what woman couldn't use a little ego boost like that now and then?  I do not want some girl who weights twenty pounds more than me spotting me and telling me to give it all I can, when I suspect secretly she is hating me for being twenty pounds lighter than her and could at any moment drop the bar on my chest.  No I want some cute guy (who is oblivious to my underwear issues) with a six pack smiling down at me and asking me how my day went...

Um.. where was I?  Oh yes... gyms, with all those hot sweaty men in them.  I do not think this beautiful ideal gym with free child care and hot men just lining up to help spot me exists.  And in lieu of that I think I should reconsider where to work out.

At Home

Well this sounds like a nice compromise.  I no longer have to get rid of the children completely.  This feat can be accomplished while they are asleep, either during a nap or before I go to bed (waking up early to exercise is such an absurd idea I will not even pretend to list it here), or if I am super awesome and creative with them somehow.  I do not have to worry about what I am wearing, the kids and husband have all seen my stretched out panties and do not care, or maybe it is just that I don't care if they do.  Okay, let us try this at home!

Hmmm... first problem.  I have no idea what I am doing.  Beyond high school, where Coach used to make us run stair laps, I have had no formal education in the proper way to exercise.  Not that this is beyond my capabilities.  This is 2014, I have a computer with internet hookup and access to a public library.  Researching this can be extremely overwhelming, however.  Knowing which system is the best, which video or workout plan will really work to target the areas you want targeted while not killing you is not easy.  To do this I usually do a quick and dirty search and pick the system that has the least amount of poses and directions to start with, always under the theory that I will pick up more once I get the hang of those.  When it comes to actually practicing what I have found it gets more sticky.  I am always doubting if I am doing the exercise correctly, with no one else there to give advice it can be unnerving, especially knowing that doing the exercise wrong could result in injury or even worse no actual benefit.  This does not help the process any. 

When selecting the program I am going to follow by myself I am also limited by the fact that I am not a gym.  I have no equipment.  There are no exercise balls bouncing around in my basement, no tread mills, or light weights, no stretchy band things or fancy poles (once I found an exercise regiment that claimed it only needed a wall, the catch was it needed enough clear wall space to accommodate my leg span... which I did not have).  So I either have to go and spend a small fortune on equipment I will hopefully, but not realistically, use, or skip anything that seems too complicated for my exercise less house. 

Finally, as any stay at home mom can attest, finding that time to exercise, especially when it is not something completely scheduled out and virtually immovable, is harder than it sounds.  I might decide to exercise during naptime for instance.  Only to get three minutes into my regime and suddenly hear a loud blood curdling scream erupt from the bedroom.  After helping my daughter recover her blankey from under her bed I seem to have lost my steam.  Besides, it might be best that I did not start back up, ten minutes later I am summoned to my sons room who has had yet another potty training accident... 

Standard Excuses

Exercise is good for you though, so I break down and decide that I need to do it, no matter where I do it.  Once I was actually fortunate enough to have a gym available to me for free at work, this was even before I had children.  I could go during my lunch break, or right after work.  So I did, kind of.  Inevitably the cycle would go something like this.  I would work out regularly for two or three weeks, and then something would happen and I would stop.  Four months later I would start again, get in another two or three weeks and then stop.  This went on for three years.  The reasons I stopped then are often the same reasons I stop now.

Weather plays a big part in this.  I do not mind weather.  I love thunderstorms, I find snow falls peaceful, hot sunny days are invigorating, cool fall days are relaxing.  However, if I have to actually go outside... it had better be a nice spring day.  The gym at my work was in another building, and if it was raining too heavily, snowing, frigidly cold or even too windy for me I would talk myself out of going, or would 'wait to see if it would clear up' which was almost the same as not going.  Inevitably the next day it would be easier to convince myself that the weather again was too bad to go out and soon enough it had been a week and I was back on my four month hiatus.

Health also plays an important role.  I get colds every winter, and every spring.  As soon as I begin sniffling I stop exercising.  My immune system needs to rest and spend it's energy kicking some germ's butt.  At least that is my reasoning.  Mainly I do not want to do anything strenuous like exercise when I feel like hell.  A night of insomnia has a similar effect on me.  Sleepy me also refuses to do anything strenuous.  Logically I understand that exercise will help boost my immune system and also level out all those soupy chemicals in my body to help me sleep better.  Apparently it takes more than three weeks of good behavior to reap these benefits, though, and I have never made it longer than that to attest to the actual results myself. 

Then there is the issue of pain.  Exercise hurts.  When one is as out of shape as I am there is no getting around it.  I can distinctly recall trying to follow a video on getting your abs into shape after having a baby.  I made it through the first ten minutes, barely, my stomach was aching after the first round of creative crunches.  During the next ten minutes the instructor did what I have come to learn is a side plank.  She even explained that right after having your child it might be difficult and that you can start by putting your hips on the floor and build up to a point when you can lift them off with the rest of your body.  Through my tears I laughed as I clumsily tried to position my body, in the easier position, and failed, my poor tired abs collapsing and leaving me in a heap on the floor instead of the pretty side plank the pretty blonde was in.  The next day I did not try it again, I had endured enough. 

So there it is, my list of excuses.  I do not like gyms.  I find exercising at home to be confusing and difficult to fit into my schedule.  Even if I do commit myself to something I quickly find that weather, my health and my overall lack of fitness stops my progression any further. 

I understand all of the benefits of exercise, but I cannot seem to make it work.  My journey toward a healthier me is not over yet, and perhaps someday I will find something that actually works for me and I will stick with it, I'll blog all about it if I do I am sure.  For now though I don't, and if you don't either maybe you won't feel so bad about it, you are not alone. 

Skinny Silhouette

Weight.

We are obsessed with it, men, women even children and our culture reflects that obsession back at us.  It is near impossible to do anything from watching tv, checking the mail, using our phones, our computers, listening to the radio, going shopping or e3ven just driving in the car with out catching some reference to a weight related issue.  As the increased level of obesity becomes more apparent the intensity of this cultural discussion grows.

And yet as so eloquently stated by Lynsey on LunaLuna in her blog, not all of us are as welcome at the table to discuss the matter.  Today, though, I am going to try and make my way to this table, and pardon my boney elbows on the way. 

Let’s start this discussion with some honesty.  I tip the scales at a grand 125, at a height of only 5’6”, the most I have ever weighed was 150 and that was during the third trimester of my second pregnancy.  So I’m small – thin – skinny – petite- tiny – slender – and so forth.  With that said I will admit that I am not that helpful in discussions about weight loss.  I have no idea what it is like to be overweight, being pregnant is the closest I have come (and frankly I felt like a huge whale and hated it).  I do not understand the struggle to lose weight, if anything I have always had issues with just gaining weight.  A high metabolism that was apparent from day one coupled with personal issues dealing with anxiety and stress that manifest themselves as eating disorders being my personal reasons for this. 

When it comes to eating disorders though my case is not ‘textbook’ anorexia or bulimia and so I am not completely welcome at those round tables either. 

I do not really exercise (more on this later), and while I try to eat better I am by no means a healthy food expert.  I frequently end a day by eating dinner with a salad and then stuff myself with chips or cookies once I have put the children to bed.  So, yeah… my advice on eating well is probably a bit hypocritical. 

When it comes to basic body image, though… and how culture (and fellow women) treats the issue of weight as a whole I find I actually have a lot to say. 

First, lets get something straight – I am a woman, and being a woman there are plenty of things that I do not like about my body, that tendency is written in our genetic code I believe.  Now don’t get me wrong, I do not completely hate my body.  It works pretty well most of the time, it gave me two absouletly beautiful children and with the proper attention, ie a shower, clothes, some time on hair and makeup it can look pretty damned good if I do say so myself.  But if you were to take me right now and demand that I put on the three year old bikini I have hiding in the back of my underwear drawer I would not feel very good about it and might break down if you dared to bring out a camera to photograph the moment.  My hair is dirty, I have not shaved in three weeks, my stomach is lined with stretch marks and is nowhere near as tight as it should be (used to be in fact), my skin is dry and super pale except for where the blotches of red cross it (most noticeable across my chest), my face has acne, my fingernails are short, there are bags under my eyes and to top it all off my scrawny toothpick limbs are covered in bruises and a few scars (all just testaments to my clumsy ability to do just about anything).  So while I might weigh the same as a supermodel I assure you I cannot compete with them. 

Weight is not all there is to beauty.  I hate being told that I don’t have anything to worry about because I am so skinny, especially when this comes from a beautiful – if larger – woman than me.  It is actually rather surprising how often comments like this are flung my way.   

“Not that you would know anything about Spanxs… not with that skinny figure…”  - after two children you had better believe I know something about Spanx… I have a set in my closet and would not be caught in something tight fitting without them. 

“Clothing shopping must be so easy… you fit everything…”  - again bs.  I have broken down in tears in the dressing room of a Target too, just like you.  No clothing company has yet to figure out women’s bodies, end of story.

 

“Oh… I shouldn’t eat that, here you finish this, it won’t hurt you…” as I am handed fries or a piece of cake – When did being thin mean that I am healthy?  Extra sugar, fat, salt and preservatives can hurt me just as much as you, even if they have less effect on my dress size.  I am still susceptible to cancer, heart disease, strokes, migraines, PCOS, IBD, reduced immunity, insomnia, and a whole slew of other nasty health conditions affected by our diets. 

As much as I find these comments annoying I know that they are normally not said in malice and so I let them slide.  There are other comments though, that fall into what Women’s Health calls ‘Thin Shaming’ that tend to get under my (blotchy) skin more.  I admit that these kinds of comments have rarely been flung at me directly.  However, they are sent to the general public and toward people that I can relate to, and that still hurts. 

“Skinny Bitch”

“Go eat a cheeseburger”

“Little anorexic whore”

Direct and to the point, we get it, we are skinny and you hate us for it.  Those who lob these kinds of comments are just as likely to lob nasty things at other people as well, they are often just angry sad people in general, not much more can be expected of them. 

The comments I find most distressing are those that are not meant to be harmful at all, in fact they often have nothing to do with skinny girls, directly.  It is these comments that I find to be the most hurtful and the most frustrating. 

“Curvy girls are better lovers…”

“Real men like their women with a little meat on their bones…”

“Proud to not be a skeleton…”

I know these statements are out there to help the esteem of our more voluptuous sisters, but they end up making me want to scream:

“I am a woman too!  I too can be brave, and strong and sexy!  I did not choose to be thin!  Stop building your ego on the crushed ‘skeletons’ of your fellow sisters!”

Somewhere along the line we got wrapped up in summing our beauty standard up with our silhouettes.  I am more than just my shadow and I wish we would all start realizing that.  I will not subject you to a lecture about how we should find the beauty on the inside… that is complete bs if you ask me.  We are creatures that view the world through our senses, sight being one of the most important of those.  But perhaps we should look at more than just a silhouette when deciding if someone is beautiful.  I love to hear people comment on how lovely my natural red hair is, or how startling my dark blue eyes are, or maybe compliment me on a great necklace I found… my hair, my eyes, my fashion sense… I have my beautiful points once you get over the protruding elbow joints.  As does every other woman, no matter her size. 

 

Image taken from Fractal Enlightenment