Day 18: I don't want to wear a dress

I really didn’t want to wear a dress yesterday. I took the dog for the run early in the morning and didn’t have a chance to shower before the kids got up. We didn’t have plans to go anywhere, so I really just wanted to stay in my running clothes (it was a colder morning, so no sweat). I kept telling myself that I just wouldn't today. Justifying it with excuses of not showering, not leaving the house, no one will see it any way, etc. But I kept thinking about the men, women and children caught in slavery, no choices, no dignity, no freedom.

I put on a dress, because I believe it is bigger than a dress. The dress represents my freedom and dignity. It represents everything these men, women and children deserve in life.

I really didn't want to wear a dress yesterday. She really doesn't want to have sex. I have a choice. She doesn't, for now. My choice can help change that. Will you help me? Please go to support.dressemberfoundation.org/rachelengelman

Dressy Dresses and the first 6 Days

Day 3 - this one has pockets :)

Day 2 - cold day means
sweater dress

Day 1 - wearing red for #bebrave

It's day 7 and I miss pockets. It’s helpful to be able to whip out a tissue before the booger hits the couch. Or have my phone handy to capture the fleeting moment when Cora is gently guiding Toby instead of pulling a toy from him. I do have a few dresses with pockets and so far have gravitated to those, but I’ve been trying to figure out a solution. Sweaters with pockets? Cargo vest? Maybe that’s why fanny packs were so huge during the spandex-clad 80’s. 

Day 6 - dress repeat, because this
one has pockets, and it's a sweater!

Day 5 - same dress, today we
got our Christmas tree

Day 4 - this dress has no pockets,
but I feel it should. Sewing project?

 






I’ve also found that a dress is, well, dressy. Even though I may try to “dress it down” by wearing boots instead of heels or funky jewelry, it’s still dressy. A dress stands out in my day-to-day life of dropping Cora off at school, grocery shopping and walking the dog. Just wearing a dress has given me the opportunity to share about Dressember’s goal of bringing dignity to all women and the courageous work of International Justice Mission. I have read on Dressember’s Facebook page about women who wear semiformal dresses, just to get that reaction. I’m not sure I’ll go to the back of my closet and pull out my pale purple prom dress quite yet, but you never know, I have 24 days left.

Missing pockets is better than missing a childhood. Go to support.dressemberfoundation.org/rachelengelman to join me in giving children back their childhood.

Freedom. Dignity. Creativity.

“Because we believe we can’t be super advocates, we stop advocating at all.”

I am about to embark on a journey. To wear a dress every day for the month of December. It is a challenge that at first seems frivolous and unimportant, but on closer look, perhaps it is just the thing to get people's attention.

What: Dressember is a campaign started by Blythe Hill (watch her TED talk here). Originally she wore a dress every day of December because she was bored and needed a creative outlet. When friends of friends and women she didn’t know started doing it with her, she knew she had a movement, and a way of changing the world through wearing a dress. This is Dressember’s third year partnering with International Justice Mission, an organization “that protects the poor from violence in the developing world” (www.ijm.org). The statistics are heartbreaking: it is estimated that over 35 million people are currently trapped in slavery in our world, 50% of them are children, 70% are female. IJM actively rescues those caught in slavery and the sex trade, works with victims and courts to bring justice, and helps with rehabilitation for the victims.

What caught my attention: I’ve read stories of human trafficking. All are heartbreaking, but the stories of children break my heart the most. Children as young as my own sweet girl, and younger. I’ve wanted to do something, but what? That is always the question. What can I do? How can I make a difference? I’m a stay-at-home mom. My interests are reading and writing and cups of tea. My life is consumed with diapers, getting dressed in the morning and pjs at night, driving to and fro. As Blythe says in her talk, my interests seem shallow compared to the overwhelming evil. So what can I do?
Thanks to Facebook, I found out about Dressember where I commit to wearing a dress every day of the month of December, and you sponsor me.
I like wearing dresses. I counted how many I have in my closet and (including fancy dresses) there are thirteen. Thirteen dresses. And that doesn’t include my summer ones I’ve packed away for the winter. So, yes, I like wearing dresses, but I am also a jeans girl and this will be all month long. In December. In New Hampshire. Whatever discomfort I will have will be nothing compared to what those caught in slavery and human trafficking endure. I will be posting pictures of my dress journey here throughout the month.

So, will you join me? I am not a super advocate, but I will be a voice. Will you speak up with me? My fundraising page can be found here.

The Cost of a Family Photo

I planned a family outing to the New England Aquarium for Father’s Day. It ended up being a rather stressful trip, at least during the traveling to and from the Aquarium. Originally, we were going to take public transportation, but it was raining hard all day and walking from the T station in the rain as well as lugging a stroller on and off a train wasn’t sounding like a good idea, so we parked in a nearby garage and walked a short way.  This ended up being a very wet walk anyway - pruny toes all day wet. The ticket booths for the Aquarium were outside (i.e. in the rain) and as soon as we got in the building they beckon you to the side and take a picture in front of a green screen. A picture they will charge you an exorbitant price to buy. Welcome to the Aquarium.

Once we walked in to the Aquarium itself it was great. Cora loved the large central tank that rose 3 or more stories up the center of the Aquarium. It house three huge sea turtles, rays, a shark or two, and lots of fish. She was mesmerized. So were Pete and I.

However, at the smaller side tanks a stroller made crowd navigation very difficult. It was like chariot racing with strollers, we should have added wheel spikes.

We thought it was busy before lunch, but everyone was just waiting till the afternoon. It got much busier. Cora was getting tired so Toby went on my back in the carrier and Cora rode in the stroller. We saw a few more things, the top of the giant tank was very cool, but we were on borrowed time with the kids. We rushed (as much as you can in pressing crowds with a stroller; wheel spikes, I’m telling you) past the octopus and jellyfish then paused at the stingray touch tank. Cora and I got to be right at the edge and touch a sting ray. Most of them were smaller, 12-18 inch wing-span, but there was one huge leopard spotted ray that was nearly four feet wide!

By the time we left the ray tank Cora was melting and Toby was asleep on my back...and we had forgotten to take a family photo. This is a chronic problem with us, we just always forget until it’s too late. So Pete hands me the card that has our photo number on it and takes Cora to the gift shop to buy a postcard.

I stepped up to the counter.
Me: Can I preview my photo please?
Him: I’ll print them out, then discuss pricing.
Me: No, I just want to preview it, to see if it is any good.
Him: I’ll print them out so you can see.
Me: Fine. (I hear numbers thrown around by the guy next to me, $20, $30, yikes!)
He lays out an 8x10 in a cardboard frame, two smaller loose photos and one smaller one in a plastic magnetic frame.
Him: $21 for the large one, $27 for the three smaller ones, $35 for all of it.
Me: How much for just this one? I hold up the 4x6.
Him: I’m sorry, it comes as a set.
Me: You’re kidding me?
He repeats the pricing.
The guy buying all of his photos next to me leans in and points to Toby: Is that your little guy?
Me: Oh my gosh! Someone pushed their kid into our picture!
Really?! say photo-guy and guy-buying-photos
Me: Ba-dum-ching. Naw, that’s my son. I get funny looks.
Me: So I really can’t just buy this one photo? Come on, after a punch line like that?
Him: Well...
Me: What do you do with them if I say no?
Him: We throw them away.
Me: In the trash?
Him: Yes.
Me: Can I say no, wait a few minutes then throw away this kleenex?
Small smile as he shakes his head.
Me: Five bucks for the 4x6.
He sighs, looks up and does a quick nod. I fish out cash and take my one photo.

At least, that’s what I wish I had said. Instead, my response was a quiet yup, that’s my son, a half-hearted attempt to haggle with the photo-guy and then I handed over my credit card to pay $27 for the pictures of our family - bedraggled from walking in the rain, Pete holding Cora, me leaning in next to them and one lonely hand on the stroller with poor Toby sitting sullen-faced.
Happy Father’s Day.

Fistful of Dandelions

Last Friday was ‘one of those days’. A day I wanted to run away, even if just to the tree fort at the bottom of the yard, by 8am. And it continued, all day. I questioned my ability to be patient enough, kind enough, sane enough. Thoughts of failure ran through my head. Maybe I’m not cut out for this. Why exactly did we choose to have another? I nearly lost it while trying to give her a bath; my nearly seven month pregnant belly getting in the way while trying to wrangle a slippery toddler without hurting either of us. “I’m done”, I yelled. And told my husband to take over.

But then...
She comes running in from playing outside with her daddy and proudly presents her fistful of dandelions. “Let’s put them in a vase Mommy”.
She throws her arms around me after finally peeing on the potty (but before she wipes of course) and says, from her heart, “I love you Mommy”.
I overhear from the kitchen when she asks her daddy “Why is there Mother’s Day?” and then, after I hear whispering, she comes running in to give me a hug and kiss.

I know I’m getting back what I gave to my mom. The hyper-emotional, crying loudly to make sure I’m heard from the bedroom tantrums are familiar ground; it’s just not me doing it this time.  In those moments I remember the first few weeks with Cora, the overflow of love as I held her, and realizing that is how my mom felt about me. My mom loves me with that breath-catching, tear-producing ache that I feel towards my daughter. It was, and is, an overwhelming realization to know that I am loved like that.

But it goes further. Not only does my mom, and dad, love me like that, but my Jesus loves me like that. My heavenly Father looks at me with a breath-catching, tear-producing ache of love that will never fade. Despite my adult tantrums (which honestly aren’t too different), despite my lack of patience or forgiveness towards others, God still loves me. He loves me enough to put it all on the line and endure hell so that I don’t have too.

And what do I have to give back to Him? Just me. Which seems trite, like my own fistful of dandelions. And yet, how precious to me are those dandelions wilting in a bud vase? As precious as my life surrendered is to the One who gave me life.

Good Fences Make Good Neighbors

He got through that broken wooden fence again. Why won't the neighbors fix it? Who lets their fence get in such a state of disrepair? Not just missing pieces in a few places, but whole sections on the ground. The entire fence surrounding their yard is falling apart. She ran for public office last election, but she can't repair her fence? Good fences make good neighbors. The fences surrounding our yard that are in the best shape are the ones we stand at and chat with neighbors. The broken ones, we don't.

This time when Ronon got out, the vet called. I was so afraid the police were going to pick him up again, but on the other end of the line a familiar voice told me a neighbor had him. Just around the corner. Great. Just one problem. Cora is down for a nap. I risked the tears and woke her up. (She is not a happy kid when woken from a sound sleep.) It is cold out, but not too far to walk, so we bundle up, grab the leash and head out.

We get to number 12 and I can see Ronon in their breezeway. He is being his usual rambunctious self. I hope he didn't break anything. I hope they are used to dogs. My apologies start flowing as soon as the door opens. The man is doing his best to keep Ronon from bolting out the door to me. Ronon is beside himself; practically delirious from the freedom.

- I'm so sorry.
- We need to patch the fence, again.
- He's only gotten out a few times.

Words tumble out while I fumble with the special collar that Cora must have clipped together when I wasn't paying attention.

- You should have your info on his collar, he says.
- That collar will never hold. He'll slip it right off in two seconds, he says.
I haven't gotten it on all the way, I retort in my head. Gimme a break.

Cora coughs. It is a hacking, thick cough. She is still getting over a really bad cold.

- You should have called us, the woman says. We could have brought him to you.
- Yea, he says. Sounds like you have a sick kid. It's cold out.
- It's not far, I say blithely as I finally get Ronon's collar clipped.

I hope they see how he instantly calms down. He knows the collar means business.

- We're just around the corner, I say. And it's not as cold as yesterday. I continue in my head. And, how could I contact you exactly? I don't even know your name.

Thankfully, Ronon walks quietly by my side down their driveway and into the street. Dog in one hand, toddler holding the other, I leave the house of judgement.

Reading Again

    My sister invited me to hear Lois Lowry speak. I had never heard of her; which apparently is shocking to most people I’ve said that to. She is a prolific author who has written award-winning books that are read by high-schoolers across the country; just not me apparently. So in preparation for hearing her speak, I did what any right-minded English major would do, I got The Giver out of the library to read.
     With only two weeks left in my final grad class, I told myself I wouldn’t start it till after my last class. That resolution lasted almost six days. It was a Thursday. I was watching a friend’s eight-month-old; not really a good day to start a new book. Recently I’ve been reading short stories because I can finish them during nap time and not have the next chapter looming in my head until the next moment I can snatch away. Starting a book while caring for one very active toddler and a nearly crawling infant was not a good idea. But it worked. The girls were playing and I was sitting on the floor reading. A book-worm, mom’s nirvana.
     I snatched moments throughout the day and read the last pages well before bedtime (mine, not the toddler’s). My appetite for novels had become voracious after only reading short stories. I am hungry for more.
     I enjoyed reading a novel, but did I enjoy the novel. A story like The Giver is supposed to be unnerving. As Jonas learns the truth of his society, the reader is uncomfortable along with him. The themes reminded me of Never Let Me Go by Kazuo Ishiguro and the film Cloud Atlas (well, one of the multiple plot lines at least). They are uncomfortable themes: cloning, genetic manipulation, and controlled society.
     The society in The Giver has eradicated pain, sorrow, and unexpected death. They also eradicated the positive emotions like pleasure, joy and love. Without feeling pain, we cannot know true pleasure. Without knowing sadness, we cannot know true joy. Without the depth of loss, we cannot feel the depth of love.
     These themes cause me to wonder what sort of future my children will live in. What will the world be like for them? I have heard people say they will not have children because of this worry. The future is too uncertain, too fraught with potential atrocities. But I don’t agree. Because I remember a part of the past that these stories left out; the death and resurrection of Jesus Christ. I am birthing children into a world He died for. My children will inherit a world that has been bought with the blood of Jesus. A world where death has been defeated and the Prince of Peace will reign forever. I do not see the fulfillment of that now. They may not see it in their lifetime. But it will happen. There is hope.


In this world you will have trouble, but take heart; I have overcome the world. John 16:33