New York Yankee Alex Rodriguez has admitted that he used "performance enhancing drugs", i.e., steroids, during from 2001-2003. He is one of many in a long string of baseball players who are coming clean (ha!) about their steroid use after their dirty laundry is aired, in this case by Sports Illustrated. Rodriguez says he did it because he needed to perform at such a high level. There is a lot of pressure when one is the top-paid baseball player, after all.
This comes directly on the heels of Jennifer Hudson's much hailed rendition of "The Star-Spangled Banner" at the Superbowl. Only trouble is, it turns out Miss Hudson's performance was lip-synced. Plenty of excuses are being made for her (and her fellow lip-syncer, Faith Hill), though, from "everyone does it (including Whitney Houston)" to "the producers made her do it" to "it would be too hard to sing live in a stadium". Nobody seems to be bothered by the fact that a "live" performance wasn't, in fact, live. You have to wonder what would have happened if a pack of hyenas had run across the stage mid-performance. Would her voice have continued ringing out the rocket's red glare?
I feel so cheated. Come on Jennifer, we all know your talent is spectacular enough to pull off a live performance. And many a concert has taken place in a stadium, presumably not all of them lip-synced. Of course it is nice to have a perfect performance, but I think fans would have a greater appreciation for a slightly flawed live performance than a perfect pre-recorded, studio-mastered one.
I have no doubt that both Rodriguez and Hudson feel tremendous performance pressure. But is it really better to receive undeserved accolades for your "enhanced performance" when you could have undoubtedly knocked it out of the park on your own, doing it the right way?
There is something wrong with the world when the only way to reach perfection is to cheat your way there.
Tuesday, February 10, 2009
Friday, February 6, 2009
Bigger is Better?
When her parents told Sheyla Hershey to "dream big" I'm not sure this is quite what they had in mind. The 28-year old Houston resident has gone under the knife nine times to enhance her breasts to a staggering size 38KKK.
The latest surgery required a full gallon of silicone.
Um, owwwwww.
She dumped her boyfriend (who had initially paid for her plastic surgery) when he began pleading with her to stop the silicone insanity. "I love him very much but I had to leave him to follow my dream," she said.
Dream of what? Never again having anyone look her in the eye? Not being able to fit through a door? Being mistaken for a blond pair of basketballs?
With that much silicone in your chest, wouldn't you be terrifically sore all the time? And worried about bumping into sharp corners?
And I thought the people who dreamed of climbing Mt. Everest were nuts.
The latest surgery required a full gallon of silicone.
Um, owwwwww.
She dumped her boyfriend (who had initially paid for her plastic surgery) when he began pleading with her to stop the silicone insanity. "I love him very much but I had to leave him to follow my dream," she said.
Dream of what? Never again having anyone look her in the eye? Not being able to fit through a door? Being mistaken for a blond pair of basketballs?
With that much silicone in your chest, wouldn't you be terrifically sore all the time? And worried about bumping into sharp corners?
And I thought the people who dreamed of climbing Mt. Everest were nuts.
Thursday, February 5, 2009
Cheese!
There comes a time when you suddenly realize you are not the only person having an influence on your child. Parroting of his toddler friends aside, the first time I noticed this was when Michael developed an obsession with Elmo. I can't remember where we were, but he pointed out a picture of the Muppet and exclaimed "Elmo!" David and I exchanged did-you-teach-him-that looks, and both shrugged, bewildered as to where he would have learned this information. (It turns out nursery was the culprit there. They have a stuffed Elmo that Michael likes to play with).
It is sort of a scary and humbling thing to realize that other people are having an influence on your child. And it makes me grateful that I get to be a stay-at-home mom and don't have to entrust the care of my son's information-sponge brain to a nanny or day care provider. Most of the things he knows he learned from me.
But just to remind me my reach is limited, at the park the other day I went to take a picture of him. "Smile, Michael!" I said.
He grinned from ear to ear and said, "Cheese!"
Where in the world did he learn that?
It is sort of a scary and humbling thing to realize that other people are having an influence on your child. And it makes me grateful that I get to be a stay-at-home mom and don't have to entrust the care of my son's information-sponge brain to a nanny or day care provider. Most of the things he knows he learned from me.
But just to remind me my reach is limited, at the park the other day I went to take a picture of him. "Smile, Michael!" I said.
He grinned from ear to ear and said, "Cheese!"
Where in the world did he learn that?
Wednesday, February 4, 2009
14 Fatherless Children
Far be it from me to comment on someone else's reproductive decisions (ha ha, who am I kidding?), but the recent birth of octuplets to Nadya Suleman, already a single mother to six children, was a story I couldn't ignore, though I wish I could.
It took a few days for the Suleman family to admit that Nadya had sought fertility treatment (as if that wasn't glaringly obvious). And then it came to light that she had actually been through IVF, and had eight embryos implanted. If that is truly the case, who was the fertility specialist who performed the procedure? They should be stripped of their medical license and no longer allowed to practice. No self-respecting doctor with even the slightest concern for a patient's well-being would ever implant eight embryos. Ever. Especially not in a woman who is already the mother of six children's worth of successful IVF attempts. What this doctor did is simply inexcusable.
But if we want to talk inexcusable, let's talk about the mother. Ms. Suleman is an unemployed, single woman who, according to reports, broke up with her boyfriend before the birth of her first child. She describes herself as a "professional student", which is another way of saying that she doesn't have any way of caring for her children. Nadya's mother, who currently cares for the first six children (all of whom were conceived by IVF), says her daughter is obsessed with having babies.
Well, that's great. She likes having babies. Perhaps she should ditch the birthing and start becoming obsessed with how's she's going to care for the children she already has. Which I suppose, in a way, she is. Now that she has produced octuplets, she is looking to media deals with the likes of Oprah Winfrey and Diane Sawyer to pay the bills.
I hope they ignore her completely. This woman does not deserve the time of day. (If you think I'm cruel for ignoring the welfare of the children, don't get your knickers in a twist. I'm sure they will be plenty well cared for by our tax dollars).
But the question is, how in the world does a single mother of six children she can't provide for walk into a fertility clinic and convince a doctor to implant eight embryos? And how in the world is she paying for these procedures in the first place? At $14,000 a pop, how can she possibly afford this?
It is disgusting that anyone could be so selfish. And disgusting that a doctor was willing to assist her in her quest to produce a coachless football team.
Stories like this make me furious because they give fertility treatment a bad name. As someone whose life has been profoundly blessed by fertility treatment, it angers me even more. I truly believe that procedures like IVF are gifts from God - if they didn't exist, I would not be a mother. So to see women like Nadya Suleman making a mockery of them is maddening.
This is the ultimate trashing of a divine gift. To seek fertility treatment as a single woman, deliberately depriving any resulting children of a father, is selfish and deplorable. To do it over and over again, resulting in 14 fatherless babies you can't support, is, well, evil.
What is the world coming to?
It took a few days for the Suleman family to admit that Nadya had sought fertility treatment (as if that wasn't glaringly obvious). And then it came to light that she had actually been through IVF, and had eight embryos implanted. If that is truly the case, who was the fertility specialist who performed the procedure? They should be stripped of their medical license and no longer allowed to practice. No self-respecting doctor with even the slightest concern for a patient's well-being would ever implant eight embryos. Ever. Especially not in a woman who is already the mother of six children's worth of successful IVF attempts. What this doctor did is simply inexcusable.
But if we want to talk inexcusable, let's talk about the mother. Ms. Suleman is an unemployed, single woman who, according to reports, broke up with her boyfriend before the birth of her first child. She describes herself as a "professional student", which is another way of saying that she doesn't have any way of caring for her children. Nadya's mother, who currently cares for the first six children (all of whom were conceived by IVF), says her daughter is obsessed with having babies.
Well, that's great. She likes having babies. Perhaps she should ditch the birthing and start becoming obsessed with how's she's going to care for the children she already has. Which I suppose, in a way, she is. Now that she has produced octuplets, she is looking to media deals with the likes of Oprah Winfrey and Diane Sawyer to pay the bills.
I hope they ignore her completely. This woman does not deserve the time of day. (If you think I'm cruel for ignoring the welfare of the children, don't get your knickers in a twist. I'm sure they will be plenty well cared for by our tax dollars).
But the question is, how in the world does a single mother of six children she can't provide for walk into a fertility clinic and convince a doctor to implant eight embryos? And how in the world is she paying for these procedures in the first place? At $14,000 a pop, how can she possibly afford this?
It is disgusting that anyone could be so selfish. And disgusting that a doctor was willing to assist her in her quest to produce a coachless football team.
Stories like this make me furious because they give fertility treatment a bad name. As someone whose life has been profoundly blessed by fertility treatment, it angers me even more. I truly believe that procedures like IVF are gifts from God - if they didn't exist, I would not be a mother. So to see women like Nadya Suleman making a mockery of them is maddening.
This is the ultimate trashing of a divine gift. To seek fertility treatment as a single woman, deliberately depriving any resulting children of a father, is selfish and deplorable. To do it over and over again, resulting in 14 fatherless babies you can't support, is, well, evil.
What is the world coming to?
Tuesday, February 3, 2009
What Goes Around Comes Around
Ah, sweet, sweet irony.
You may remember that Vice President Biden had a laugh at the expense of Chief Justice John Roberts for his fumbling of the Presidential Oath of Office.
It turns out, administering an oath is not as easy as Biden may have thought. He did a little fumbling of his own while swearing in Secretary of State Hillary Clinton in a mock ceremony Monday. Even while using note cards. Apparently his memory could use a little help as well.
Ha! Serves him right!
Somewhere John Roberts is smiling.
You may remember that Vice President Biden had a laugh at the expense of Chief Justice John Roberts for his fumbling of the Presidential Oath of Office.
It turns out, administering an oath is not as easy as Biden may have thought. He did a little fumbling of his own while swearing in Secretary of State Hillary Clinton in a mock ceremony Monday. Even while using note cards. Apparently his memory could use a little help as well.
Ha! Serves him right!
Somewhere John Roberts is smiling.
Monday, February 2, 2009
No Small Callings
In The Best Christmas Pageant Ever, the young cast of a church nativity play is told that there are "no small parts, only small actors". As a kid, I was with the narrator in thinking that this was the most ridiculous statement ever made. You can certainly have a nativity play without a baby angel, but you can't have one without someone to play Mary.
But now, as an adult, I am finally beginning to understand what this statement means. Of course there are parts that are more important, and more essential to the whole, but every single part is important in its own way. And sometimes it is the smallest part that ends up being the most important.
I have seen this firsthand as my son reached nursery age. Being the stubborn, velcro-child he is, he was not pleased with the idea of his mom and dad trying to leave him with friends, toys, snacks and activities so they could go to Sunday School. This resulted in several extremely stressful months of trying to help him adjust to nursery class. Knowing his stubborn personality as I do, I just knew that he needed to be allowed to cry it out for a few weeks in order to adjust, which was an impossibility at the time.
So when we moved to NYC, I prayed and prayed that Michael would have a nursery leader who would be willing to help him by letting him have a few weeks of tears. When we arrived it was with great trepidation that we left him for his first nursery class. I explained the situation and asked them to keep him as long as they could handle it. They seemed willing to try it out, and I left, a bundle of nerves, my head jerking to check the classroom door every time it opened, just sure it would be a screaming Michael.
The first Sunday he made it one hour. The second week he stayed the whole two hours in nursery. Within a month he was only crying when we left him, and occasionally for a few minutes here and there when something would distress him. Within two months he was going to nursery without any tears at all. And yesterday he actually asked, "Nursery? Play?" toward the end of sacrament meeting, excited about going to play with toys.
I swear I could hear a choir of angels singing the Hallelujah Chorus.
His teachers have been so helpful, and so willing to see his progress that each week they noted his improvement and made sure to tell me how much better he was doing. Even amidst the tear-filled weeks they seemed excited to see him, put their arms around him and told him how happy they were to have him in nursery, and made sure to let us know he was doing great and would be settled in in no time.
These nursery leaders may feel like they have small callings and that their job is nothing more than babysitting, but I know better. These women are angels on earth who showed me that my son has a loving Heavenly Father who cares about him, and cares about me.
I used to leave church every week in tears, at a loss as to what to do. Attending my Sunday meetings became very stressful for me during those few months. But now I practically skip down the block on the way home as my son tells me he had "fun" in nursery class. Words can't express how much gratitude I feel toward these women, and toward my Father in Heaven for answering my prayers.
It just goes to show that there are no small callings - especially not callings to be in charge of baby angels.
But now, as an adult, I am finally beginning to understand what this statement means. Of course there are parts that are more important, and more essential to the whole, but every single part is important in its own way. And sometimes it is the smallest part that ends up being the most important.
I have seen this firsthand as my son reached nursery age. Being the stubborn, velcro-child he is, he was not pleased with the idea of his mom and dad trying to leave him with friends, toys, snacks and activities so they could go to Sunday School. This resulted in several extremely stressful months of trying to help him adjust to nursery class. Knowing his stubborn personality as I do, I just knew that he needed to be allowed to cry it out for a few weeks in order to adjust, which was an impossibility at the time.
So when we moved to NYC, I prayed and prayed that Michael would have a nursery leader who would be willing to help him by letting him have a few weeks of tears. When we arrived it was with great trepidation that we left him for his first nursery class. I explained the situation and asked them to keep him as long as they could handle it. They seemed willing to try it out, and I left, a bundle of nerves, my head jerking to check the classroom door every time it opened, just sure it would be a screaming Michael.
The first Sunday he made it one hour. The second week he stayed the whole two hours in nursery. Within a month he was only crying when we left him, and occasionally for a few minutes here and there when something would distress him. Within two months he was going to nursery without any tears at all. And yesterday he actually asked, "Nursery? Play?" toward the end of sacrament meeting, excited about going to play with toys.
I swear I could hear a choir of angels singing the Hallelujah Chorus.
His teachers have been so helpful, and so willing to see his progress that each week they noted his improvement and made sure to tell me how much better he was doing. Even amidst the tear-filled weeks they seemed excited to see him, put their arms around him and told him how happy they were to have him in nursery, and made sure to let us know he was doing great and would be settled in in no time.
These nursery leaders may feel like they have small callings and that their job is nothing more than babysitting, but I know better. These women are angels on earth who showed me that my son has a loving Heavenly Father who cares about him, and cares about me.
I used to leave church every week in tears, at a loss as to what to do. Attending my Sunday meetings became very stressful for me during those few months. But now I practically skip down the block on the way home as my son tells me he had "fun" in nursery class. Words can't express how much gratitude I feel toward these women, and toward my Father in Heaven for answering my prayers.
It just goes to show that there are no small callings - especially not callings to be in charge of baby angels.
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