Mostly I’m writing this post to get  yesterday’s post off the front page of my blog. I’m a sissy, I guess, but I really don’t like controversy. I used to LOVE controversy…I even made the sweetest girl in my class cry during a high school debate once because I smelled blood and went for the kill. But when my life exploded in my face about six years ago, I got enough controversy and debate and difficult conversations to last a lifetime. Now I’ve completely lost my taste for it.

I know I shouldn’t be this rattled by yesterday’s post, since almost all of the comments were overwhelmingly respectful and at least partially supportive, but I really am. I spent most of last night wishing a hole would open up in the floor and swallow me. Why do I write these things? I asked myself.

I write them because they need to be written, even when they’re difficult to write. They need to be discussed, even if it means admitting that people call me out, rightly or wrongly. Obviously I was fumbling through that argument, as were many of my commenters. The clarifications and discussions in the combox (which I plan on getting back into today) were awesome. It’s good for us to think about these things, to be challenged on our views, to back down and re-think things and work together to find what’s true. And I’m so glad that I have such thoughtful, respectful, generous readers.

But right now, I’m also glad that I have two of the most adorable nephews alive. Seriously. I’m babysitting for my sister-in-law while she has a photo shoot, and I’m letting the kids run amock while I type. Occasionally I’ll pause to break up a fight or laugh at little Luigi as he toddles around and Lemon crawls frantically after him. I missed these little dudes.

My sis-in-law had to leave for the shoot at 8:45, so the kids and I, with the incredible help of my parents, woke up and basically dove straight into the car to brave the hideous DFW traffic at the ungodly hour of 7:30.  Luckily we had Mumford and Sons to keep us company as we crawled along 161 and 635. If you guys haven’t yet discovered the wonder and glory that is Mumford and Sons, you simply must. They are divine. Here, I’ll get you started.

This is Charlotte’s favorite Mumford and Sons song, and I have to tell you, there is nothing cuter than listening to a 2 and a half year old sing “Oh man is a giddy thing” over and over.

Anyone who can name the literary inspiration for this song gets major kudos!

Oh yes, and those of you who were fuming at my post (as many of you admitted to being) can rest assured that the God of Feminism properly punished me, since I sliced my finger open last night while I was cutting bread for dinner. It bled for six hours and still hurts like a curse word I would use if my mother didn’t read this blog.

Speaking of my mother, she was the one who doctored me up. Let me tell you, this lady totally missed her calling. She should have been some sort of Angel of Mercy to those in pain and suffering. This is exactly what happened after I sliced the everloving hell (sorry, Mom) out of my finger.

Me: (gasping in pain) Sienna, go get Mimi! (I run to the sink, where blood spurts violently out of my finger and splatters everything in sight. I begin to freak out while oddly thinking about the blood splatter patterns. This is a direct result of too much Dexter.)

Mom: What’s wrong? (She walks every so slightly faster when she notices the fountain of blood gushing out of my finger.)

Me: I sliced my finger off! I have to go to the ER.

Mom: Oh, calm down. Let me see. (Inspects said sliced open finger) It’s cut sideways. You’re fine. (Wraps finger with all the gentleness of a Medieval Inquisitioner.)

Me: Mom! Owowowowowowowowow! That hurts! I’m telling you, I need stitches! Or at least a shot to numb my finger! It REALLY hurts!

Mom: Oh, you big baby. When I was a kid, Mamaw sliced open my wrist vertically to get a splinter out while my brothers and sisters held me down and I didn’t whine this much. You’re fine. (Shows me scar to prove her point. Said scar runs vertically up her wrist and looks like a failed suicide attempt.)

Me: Mom! You could have died!

Mom: I know. Mamaw kept saying she thought there was a vein close to there, but what else was she supposed to do? Anyway, it would cost you a fortune. You’ll thank me later.

Me: You’re the meanest mom ever.

Mom: I know. Get over it.

See what I mean? Florence Nightingale ain’t got nothing on my mom, I tell ya.

And even as I awkwardly type this, my finger is throbbing, so don’t imagine that I didn’t get my just desserts!  

Anyway, I’ve got babies that need to be put down for a nap and an exciting new commenter accusing me of propagating “sexist rubbish” to answer, so I’ll bid you adieu. Here’s hoping that the rest of my fingers stay intact in light of the excessive misogyny that is doubtless about to pour out of my keyboard.

  • http://www.blogger.com/profile/03807549835143586427 Mary Catherine


  • http://www.blogger.com/profile/03807549835143586427 Mary Catherine

    By the way, I delete troll comments. If someone turns up out of nowhere just to tell me how much he hates me for thinking what I do, DELETE. And I guess I'm a misogynist for still thinking that "he" is the standard gender-neutral pronoun, so I hope your exciting commenter manages to keep her(?) panties on if she happens upon this post.Someday I'll tell the world about slicing the tip of my left thumb off, and life without a fingerprint.

  • http://www.blogger.com/profile/09744212862956880795 aka the Mom

    I'm writing today (or tomorrow…I have children) about my hatred of confrontation and controversy. I used to relish the smell of blood in the water. Now I just walk away.Next time you cut yourself that way (and I hope you never again do) remember that superglue is your friend. Army medics in the field would have held your finger together and drawn a line of super glue over the top. Nice bonus? The stuff that makes it stinks kills germs. Stick it in your first aid kit.

  • http://www.blogger.com/profile/09600215149123665254 Anne Bazin

    Mary Catherine beat me to it, but I have had Emma Thompson's voice reciting that poem running through my head ever since I started listening to Mumford and Sons last week.

  • http://www.blogger.com/profile/16560772227717209242 Rachel

    I am sorry about your finger. But I loved your last post. It's called a biblical worldview of gender. Don't bother arguing with people who don't base themselves in God's created differences between men and women. Kudos to you for being brave. I wrote a post last year about anti-adoption people not starting with promoting abstinence outside of marriage. I could not believe the hate spewed my direction. I deleted haters and closed comments. Hang in there, and know that you are saying right things :)

  • KT

    Hey at least I had the guts to give you 2 letters from my name to respond to… :)I felt really bad all of yesterday too and had dreams last night about it and I don't know why. I feel like I had a fight with a friend. Isn't that weird? I'm glad you wrote what you did and I'm glad I got a chance to discuss it. These kind of discussions are few and far between in the life of raising little ones and I'm grateful the community of people that want to talk about things that matter.

  • http://www.blogger.com/profile/15778596300503008018 J M Yaceczko

    Heehee. I love sexist rubbish. My husband calls me a sexist all the time – like when I give him a cup of coffee without him asking for it or make breakfast or take his shirts to the cleaners…no I can't iron. For the life of me, shirts are evil.

  • http://www.blogger.com/profile/07632005486245515873 Calah

    KT-I know. I hate blog fighting. It's even worse than real fighting, because without the benefit of the person's face you can't tell if they really forgive you or were never really upset or if they're secretly plotting your demise via internet. It's troubling. Just so you know, nothing you said bugged me at all. You were great in the combox! Just the kind of commenter I am so, so glad I have. It's the drive-by lambastings that get under my skin.

  • http://www.blogger.com/profile/00742584679868819478 The Rowles

    I just read all 52 comments and whew! You are so very brave to have written that post. I like what you wrote!

  • http://www.blogger.com/profile/17887429052179249473 Dwija {House Unseen}

    I am a troll deleter like Mary Catherine. I think it's cowardly of them to anonymously attack, so I don't like to give them the satisfaction of being allowed to participate in the conversation. Anyway, you are a strong, faithful, funny, smart woman who is loved unconditionally. Don't ever forget that! Internet warriors can NEVER take any of that away from you :)Finally….I second the superglue! My hubby is EMT certified and has superglued many an injury in our home. At the hospital they like to call it "liquid stitches" just to fool you. Don't be fooled! Love ya, girl.