Oppression – Sometimes it’s subtle, Other times it’s like being branded

So I was out shopping ay my local Mall yesterday when I casually strolled past a shop called Supre. For those of you overseas, Supre is a chain store that sells cheap ‘fashionable’ clothing marketed at teenage girls and women in their early twenties. Out of the corner of my eye I spotted this…

Supre

So I keep on walking past the shop, then about 100 meters down the road it suddenly hits me. What on earth have I just seen?!

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Ummmm WHAT?! What are we selling to our young women now? Shirts that brand them as ‘Wifey’? I turned the pram around and walked by the store again just to be sure my eyes were not deceiving me. Surely there was some kind of context or something I was missing? But no. You can see the photo. For $12 you can be branded a Wifey.

Shame on you Supre for selling such rubbish. Our young women should be empowered to be strong independent people. They should be aspiring to be somebody of substance in their own right and not just someone’s wifey. These sorts of things have a way of getting in to the mind. Of conditioning people to believe this is a worthwhile goal. I certainly do not want that for my daughter. I am not saying she should not get married. By all means, marry someone you love, but to be branded as ‘Wifey’, rather than the creative, artistic, smart, funny, talented girl she is? Well that’s just straight up degrading. And nobody will ever own my daughter like a piece of property.

I am shocked and outraged and just sad. I am sad for what this says about society and women in general. When I walked back past the store there was a group of teenage girls all trying on that particular shirt. I thought about going and lecturing them about self-worth and valuing themselves for who they are not as someone’s property, but they would probably just have rolled their eyes and told me to fuck off.

So I remain sad about the state of the world. Just when you think things aren’t like that, because those are the circles you move in, something like this happens and you are jolted into reality. Actually, yes, the world is still like that.

Girls, don’t aspire to be someone’s wifey. Be something in and of yourself. If you get married then great, but don’t let it define you. You are better than that.

My Special Little Guy has Finally Started Walking!

As you may well know, I have had many problems with my youngest child and his development. Jude is 21 months old, so almost 2, and has hardly any words, and up until this week could not walk. But this week he finally did it! He has taken his first few steps and now there is no stopping him!

For those of you who are new around here, I have blogged about Jude over on Black Box Warnings and also given an update on this blog. But let me go through it briefly so you can appreciate how monumental that walking actually is…

The moment Jude was born I knew he was different. He needed me in a way the others never did. He clung to me. He needed to be attached to my breast constantly. And I mean constantly all day and night. I handed him to his dad while I took a shower and he screamed the whole time. Apart from that we were physically attached to one another 24/7. It transpired that he had severe reflux, to the point where he almost asphyxiated and died one night. His quick-thinking dad cleared his airways and saved his life. He couldn’t be lied flat, the constant feeding alleviated the pain for him. He didn’t sit up and move around until he was 10 months old, and then it was a butt scoot (there’s a GIF in that Black Box Warnings post up there), because he couldn’t lie flat so never did tummy time or back time. He got to the ripe old age of 12 months and copped a label of “developmentally delayed” because he couldn’t roll from front to back or back to front. Couldn’t get up into a seated position from lying down. Couldn’t crawl and couldn’t walk.

We started OT at 12 months and found out that he also had sensory perception issues. His speech has also been delayed and he has fluid in his ears and probably needs grommets inserted. We have another appointment about that next week. He still isn’t speaking much and according to the development charts he is about 12 months behind in a lot of areas.

Up until recently I was not sure that he ever would walk. Worrying about this child keeps me up at night. We all worry about our children. I worry about my other two as well, but I mostly worry about this guy. For him life has thrown up challenges. What comes naturally to others does not come to him at all without therapy and hard work. I wondered when and if he would ever walk. I wonder when and if he will ever talk. An almost 2 yr old who cannot communicate well is a tough challenge. But now that he has taken those steps my heart is filled with hope. I am daring to dream of an ordinary life for him. Daring to think that maybe everything will not always be so hard.

I have no idea what the future holds for him, but I know it is looking better than it did a year ago. I am so overjoyed at his progress. I cry every time I watch that video. My beautiful boy will walk, can walk, is walking! And life is good.

—-A Day in a Writer’s Life——

Editor’s Note – I have a special treat for you today Peeps! My friend Patrick has agreed to grace this blog with his words. I hope you will make him all feel welcome. He is an incredibly talented writer and a great guy. After you have read his work follow the links through to his blog and click the follow button. He also has a book out on Amazon which is linked below and well worth the read.

What’s a day in your life like? Do you wake early or late? Do you set an alarm clock? Do you have a schedule? Do you work in your pajamas?

I wake up around 7 a.m.—not because it’s a good time or even because I want to. Several small furry creatures appear and gaze longingly into my face. It’s time to wake—“We are hungry!” If I dare to tug the covers over my head, my toes become incessant targets for attack.
Once I’m up the magic word of the day is ‘coffee’ often used in tandem with ‘more.’ Ingestion of the first aromatic sip is followed by the soulful stares of those yet unfed as I scramble for the tuna cans and the kibble—– I keep seven cats and a small dog.
By now I am neither dressed nor bathed, but the first and most important aspects of morning are assured–the remainder of the day easy.

Who bothers you in the morning? Cats? Dogs? Children? Giraffes? Characters in your current story?

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image credit: Amusingplanet.com

 

The first part of the day is my golden time. It doesn’t matter where I am. At my desk or in the woods, this is the time I spend in creativity. Caffeine bliss takes its cues and I put pen to paper. I allow my characters full rein to control me and my muse guides me down the disturbing trails of fantasy worlds. Sometimes the endeavor takes all day–sometimes far into the night.

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Forced to break for meds and food, I can become annoyed by interruptions if they are frequent, scowling at even those with whom I share emotional ties…

Do you work at a fevered pace? Do you get annoyed when interrupted? Are you done at a certain hour or do you let the work control you?

Computer time is at my desk in a very small room at the top of an imposing set of stairs. I tweet and woof at all my friends and perhaps write a guest post like this one. The internet can be a tricky commodity as my soul is often whisked away for hours at a time to socialize or play a game. Like any diversion, it can steal far too much of my time–nonetheless I enjoy it.
Do you have a hobby or a blog that takes a huge amount of attention? Have you learned to limit your time with it?

The end of a typical day in my life is spent with loved ones often in a fantasy all its own. I dine and drink and take my evenings—- in my fantasy life or my real one–in the company of those I love. Before I sleep it’s time to read, compressing the lines of print into images that I often carry into dreams.

When do you find time to read? Do you remember your dreams?

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It isn’t an ideal day. I’m not a surgeon or a man who lives on the cutting edge of productive technology. I’m a writer— an artist. Like anyone who endeavors to perfect an art form and bend it to their unique will, I struggle with the concept of my own insignificance.

What demons follow you? What causes you to struggle?

If I forget the important things in life, my cats are quick to remind me. They jump up on my lap and surround me with a soft purring sound that can enthrall even the most self-absorbed heart. I am humbled by their innocence, amazed by their affection. They tether me to the world with a sense of unconditional love.

What binds you to the world? Family? Friends? Pets? Books? Writers? Feel free to let me know!

————-Patrick O’Scheen

Steph! thank you so much for letting me rant on your blog!
If you care to find my work, I’m often at
http://patrickoscheen.wordpress.com/

My book, Dreamer, is on Amazon