Don't Blink. Don't Even Blink. Blink and You're Dead.

Because if you blink, you might miss the moment where "conservative politician" went right over the line into "dangerous asshat."

Yes, it is a political post by Jenn, which only happens a couple times a year, but this time it's gone beyond the pale into Nehemiah Scudder territory. And the post has very little to do with Doctor Who, in spite of the title.

I mean, most of the things I've seen happen in the last few weeks - by the far, very political right, mind you, I'm not talking about people I know who are actually voting on the politically conservative side instead of being grandstanding, pandering-to-the-highest-bidder idiots - go against common decency and common sense.

The God I believe in does not want you to take it upon yourself to decide that this child built a bomb, that this couple of perfectly nice guys should not marry in "your" district, or that the will of the actual voters in this country should not prevail.

Today I went to Panera Bread, and I asked how the turkey chili was. The cute young lady behind the counter said she hadn't tried it because she's a vegetarian, but she hears it's as good as the steak chili was before they switched. I asked her if she had a problem serving meat to customers and she laughed; she'd apparently been asked more than once. But she did tell me that she's not a fan of getting gay married eating the stuff, but it's not her call as to who else eats it. Lookie there; common sense, and actual good behavior. In a nineteen-year-old girl.

Imagine that.

My twelve-year-old is horrified that any child would be assumed to be bringing a bomb to school (even though you know that if they really had thought it was a bomb, they'd have evacuated the school, or confiscated the so-called bomb, moved it off the premises, and locked down the school. But nooooooooo... they had to humiliate a kid because he's different). And now that other, more rational people have pointed out publicly that they were wrong by standing behind the kid? They're playing the old, tired Muslim = Terrorist card. Gimme a fucking break. And yes, I said fucking on my blog. Deal with it.

I think anyone reasonable knows that if this kid was white with a name like Bobby or Mark, he'd have been heaped with praise. I wonder what would have happened if he was a white Muslim. Or a black Christian. Or an Asian. Hmmm...

Then there's Planned Parenthood. I think that the hysteria involved indicates that the vast majority of the Republican in Congress need a Valium. But now Planned Parenthood can't afford to supply them, because they have been defunded. Never mind that anyone who actually checks facts instead of going with the loudest shouter sees that abortion services are around 3% of all the services provided. And federal funds aren't used for those services anyway. And abortion is legal in this country. And - just in case you missed this bit - the recordings were heavily edited. Research, people; it's your friend. I've never needed Planned Parenthood's services for anything, and I hope I've instilled enough trust in my girls that they will come to me, but this... this is wrong. And it's a manufactured crisis, presumably to take attention of actual wrongdoing by hypocritical asshats.

(Edit: It has been brought to my attention that PP can't actually prescribe anything but birth control, but hey, call it artistic license on my part, k?)

What I truly do not understand, and I hope that my conservative friends will forgive me for saying this, is how any of you - anyone outside of rich white male Americans - could ever vote for one of these people. They don't like you. If you are female, or a person of color, or not a Protestant, or deity forbid you should be different in some way they don't understand, they want to hurt you. At the very least they see you as a lesser being, not worthy of their time.

Unless you're a fetus.

I don't know why you can't see that.

Eight? EIGHT?! How the...?

Yes, I know Lizzy turned eight last week, (and went flying with her grandpa!) but having a birthday near Labor Day is hard for scheduling. So we had a party this morning.

Fourteen kids said they'd be here. A couple neighbor kids wandered over too. That's sixteen children, ranging in age from four (some neighbors and younger siblings of guests) to fifteen (Leanna). And one neighbor child showed up with three of her friends (or maybe cousins?) after everyone was gone, saying she had heard there was a party (there are social implications to being the friendly house in the area).

Um, yes, there was a party, but it's over. Sorry. Have a cupcake.

The cupcakes (as always) were fabulous. Our favorite baker made up Lego themed cupcakes with those little Lego brick candies on top. With fresh strawberries they picked themselves in the batter. So YUM.

Did I mention the Lego theme?

My mom, terrific Google Master that she is, found some party games, like L.E.G.O.S. (Bingo with Lego pieces, and she printed them out for us too), Pin-the-spot-on-the-Lego, and Guess How Many in the Jar. We queued up the Lego Movie for those kids who didn't want to play, and sent home party favors of mini-figs and little 20-piece Lego vehicles.

For a party with that age spread, and that many kids, only two sets of hurt feelings and one meltdown over Just Too Much Input isn't too bad a record.

We got some lovely gifts (mostly Lego, natch, and beading kits and stuffed toys), for which thank you notes will be written later.

Now we're off to another birthday party, this for a friend of the family (father of Lizzy's BFF Nat, and spouse of The Baker in Question)

A busy day, but fun. And my house is pretty clean too.

Oscar Uniform Tango Oscar Foxtrot Tango Hotel Echo Mike Oscar Uniform Tango Hotel Sierra...

Lizzy is going flying with her grandfather tomorrow (weather permitting) for a birthday treat, and so she and I have been going over our radio code words. I think my favorite was when I asked her the code for F (I gave her the hint that it is the name of a dance) and she said, "Flamenco."

And that reminded me that this, the first week of school and Lizzy's birthday week has had the best one-liners out of the mouths of my gamers' babes.

Last night, as Lizzy and I ate her Mom-and-Me Birthday Dinner (at the always-fabulous Lynnwood branch of the Old Spaghetti Factory), she looked at me with exasperation and said, "Mom! Please don't be Grandma about my table manners on my birthday!"

She was also very not-subtle about wanting to have them sing to her; she kept remarking that she "heard another person get sung to." Loudly enough to be heard by other tables even in a busy family restaurant on a Friday night.

Abby informed me with great seriousness on Friday that she now understands why "adults swear at other drivers. Because now I know, Mom, I've been in junior high school hallways between classes."

Speaking of other drivers, my mom referred to our mutual landlord as "Dick" (it is his nickname, short for Richard, but I don't call him that because I met him when I was a child) the other day while passing his truck in the street. Lizzy was absolutely horrified, because she always thought Grandma liked Mr G.

Of course, this is the child who thinks I'm swearing every time I use the word "asphalt." Why "assume" and "assassin" do not trigger the same indignation, I'm not sure.

It's been that sort of week.

Another Year, Another Post.

First day of school was great (although they look tired they both had a great day).

Second day looks to be great too... with a few glitches that need ironing out.

Who takes Abby to the bus in bad weather? (it's a mile walk on winding country roads without sidewalks, and currently (ha!) a couple of (deactivated) downed power lines from last weekend's storm). I did it and then came back here, but there are several neighbors we trust with children we know going the same place at the same time. Perhaps we should have worked this out last week (vague noises were made about same, but nothing was settled). I'll talk to the other parents this afternoon.

Why did Lizzy's alarm go off at seven? It doesn't need to. Oh, yes, yesterday she had to get up early because we took both kids to school on the first day, and Abby's starts an hour before Lizzy's. We just didn't reset the alarm.

Oh, crap, are those Abby's glasses? Note: have Abby add "glasses" to the list she has made up after yesterday's Butter on the New Shirt Incident (because now she has put "eat breakfast" and "brush teeth" before "get dressed"). Junior High. Goodness...

Hey, see what I'm doing? I'm online for half an hour early in the morning. Now all I have to do is retrain myself (out of years of bad habits) to go to bed at a decent hour and I'll be good to go every day.

Today is Lizzy's birthday dinner and Abby's audition call back (same place, Studio East, different production, Honk!). Tomorrow is Lizzy's eighth birthday.

Where does the time go?