Yes, once again, it is time for my annual Purim giveaway (which becomes a comment lovefest).  Every spring, I put together about 36 cookie and candy boxes and send them off to friends around the country.  For six years running, I always leave a space on the list for a yet-to-be-named blogger who stands as a representative for all of you.  Believe me, if I could mail each and every one of you a box of love, I would.  But… you know… we can only afford so many containers of nutella.

So one of you it is.

The idea behind mishloach manot is to send out treats so no one is without dessert after the Purim feast. It’s a recognition that not everyone has money for extras, but everyone could use some sweetness in their life.

It is my favourite thing I do all year, and we once again have a great theme planned (past ones include “Yes, We Can(dies)!” in honour of Obama’s inauguration, the Winter Olympics, Dr. Suess, and Charlie and the Chocolate Factory), but you’ll need to win the basket to see it.

I can tell you that in the baskets thus far (and whoever wins can tailor this to their tastes/allergies):

• Chocolate and sea salt peanut butter cups
• Chocolate and sea salt nutella cups
• Hamantaschen
• My famous chocolate chip cookies
• Homemade lollipops
• Trail mix
• Chocolate bar

And whatever else I dream up between now and mailing the packages. I’m not going to be modest — people tell me that my baking and candies are fantastic and while they may be lying, they have inflated my culinary ego. This basket is going to rock. And 100% of the items are recipes of my own creation.

So this could be your year, lovely people of the Internets; it’s yours to win. Here’s what you need to do to enter the giveaway (and you can enter as many times as you like):

• Leave a comment below (yes, a box full of candy for the low low price of one comment!) telling me where you left a comment already today–and feel free to leave, write a comment somewhere, and come back. Please put the name of that blog and a link to the post in the comment. And say something nice about that person’s post. And no, commenting on this post doesn’t count for where you’ve left a comment (though my blog still counts as long as you’ve commented on a different post). The posts that you’re commenting on need to have been written in February or March 2012 (only entries with a link to a post written in that time frame count).
• You can enter as many times as you like. Which means the more you comment around the blogosphere, the more chances you have to win (last year’s winner did an insane amount of commenting). Only comments that talk about a post you read elsewhere in the blogosphere have a chance at winning (in other words, if you write below, “that looks delicious!” I’ll be appreciative, but you won’t be eligible to win. You need to list a place where you commented today, give the url for the post, and say something about the post).
• Each comment counts as one entry, so if you’ve commented in three places, you’re allowed to leave that in three entries here. Leaving it in separate comments is actually sort of an important fact because too many links in a comment will make it caught by the spam filter. I will release comments caught by the spam filter, but it will take me a moment.
• The giveaway ends at 11 p.m. EST on Thursday the 1st, therefore, you can return all weekend and list new, great blog posts you found. If you’re still confused, think of this as creating a Friday Blog Roundup-type list in the comment section, one comment at a time.  You can also look at the comment section of last year’s giveaway to get a sense of the comments.

I will also love you forever if you read down the list and click over to read the other posts listed in the comment section. And don’t just hit the first ones at the top of the comment list. Make sure you hit some of the people in the middle or bottom of the list and leave them a comment telling them that you agree with the original commenter — their writing does rock.

If someone writes something nice about a post you wrote this week, bask in the love. Oh, and here’s a good impetus to go write something amazing on your own blog so people can come and comment on it over here and win the basket.

My usual blog rules apply: any spam is deleted — the point is to honour another person, not drum up business for a Viagra website — as well as anything rude.

I’ll use the random number generator and announce it on Friday in the Roundup. So let the commenting/mishloach manot winning begin. Oh, and no, I’m not sharing these recipes. You’ll have to win them to eat them.

The old school I used to work for had a week long camping trip every fall to kick off the school year.  The students started going on the camping trip when they were in sixth grade.  On the second night of the trip, there was a special ceremony attended by seventh and eighth graders.  It was a “secret” ceremony that the kids waited for years to get to attend.  Even though I have no loyalty to that old school, I still have never told anyone what happened during the ceremony once you reached the campfire.  It really felt like a sacred space.

Once it started getting dark, a few teachers would drift away to set up while the kids finished up their activities.  And then, when the signal was given, the seventh and eighth grade students would separate out from the rest and gather to be led — without flashlights — into the woods.  It was the same path that you walked dozens of times during the day, so you had a sense of what the ground looked like, but it was still unnerving to walk through the woods — silently — with dozens of students for about twenty minutes.  It feels a bit like being lost in space after a certain point.

And then you’d reach a path of tea lights that spiraled like a maze, and you’d walk through this to reach the campfire and the ceremony.  Even writing about this makes me cry.  It is hard to explain how moved I was at my first ceremony.  I had been asked to walk towards the front of the group as the newest teacher, and by the time I reached the spiral of lights, I had been timidly walking in pitch blackness for a good twenty minutes, my heart pounding, all the students taking this moment very very seriously.  And suddenly you come to this gorgeous path of light, and it’s lined with all these teachers who were welcoming you into not only the ceremony, but the fiber of the school itself.  And I just sobbed, as did many of the kids.

I didn’t just cry the first year — I cried every single year.  It is this moment when you realize that you are part of something so much larger than yourself.  That I was a teacher, shaping the lives of these students, in the sort of school where children spent their entire pre-college education.  It was like joining a family that had a 75-year history and hundreds of alumni.  Sure, after a few years when the board fired the headmaster and the school went into turmoil, it became a dysfunctional family where I wouldn’t send my own children.  But it was a family, nonetheless.  And because they chose me, I belonged.

I luuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuurve me some pomp and circumstance.  I’m a sucker for ceremony.  Slap “secret” in front of it and my body practically goes into quivers.

Last Wednesday was World Thinking Day, a girl scout-created holiday where girl scouts around the world come together to cogitate on a problem and come up with a solution.  Most troops celebrate the day on the weekend, either the one before or the one after.  This year’s problem is the impact our lifestyle is having on the planet and ways we can lessen our burden on the earth.  Our troop is working on presenting ideas for water conservation.  They’re first graders, so the solutions are along the lines of turning off the water while you brush your teeth as well as trying to figure out a way to utilize animal urine. (Have to say, this never occurred to me, but once the girl suggested it, I was like, “hells yeah, the future of usable water is in animal urine.”  Not sure how to make this happen, but it sounded pretty damn brilliant for six years old.)

Girl Scouts receive their World Trefoil pin at their first Thinking Day, whatever age that occurs.  The pin symbolizes their inclusion in the world girl scouting organization and connects them to every other girl scout in the world.

I dug out my World Trefoil pin for the occasion because this weekend, my little ChickieNob is going to get pinned.

There are plenty of places where the ChickieNob belongs to something larger than herself, but this is the first time that she chose the group.  We picked Judaism for her.  We picked where she lives.  And being born into twinship is something outside her control.  But she chose to become a girl scout, take the pledge, and work to make the world a better place, filled with lanyards and sit-upons.  In doing so, she becomes part of this large whole, with a 100-year history and millions of alumni.

And moreover, like a first period or a Bat Mitzvah, the ceremony is like a little tea light welcoming her into womanhood.  Sure, she has a long way to go until she can figure out how to turn animal urine into a sustainable water source, but pinning that trefoil onto her uniform feels like a little nod, like I’m recognizing that one day, we’ll be two old girls together.  Perhaps more two old grrrls than two old girls, with our matching steel-toed Doc Martens and Wonder Woman t-shirts.  Punk rock and zines.  But women, nonetheless.

Even if you’re not a girl scout (but especially if you are), please help me to welcome the ChickieNob into the sisterhood.  Pass along any words you have on being a girl — advice or good thoughts.

Congratulations, ChickieNob.  I am so proud of you.  I hope that central vein of the trefoil always serves as a compass, guiding you to making the best decisions for yourself and the world around you.  You are a funny, smart, sassy, weird, wonderful, creative, beautiful, caring person.  Don’t ever lose that, my sweet grrrl.

Theresa Erickson received her sentence today for her part in last summer’s baby selling scandal.  She is going to serve five months in prison.

San Diego attorney Theresa Erickson, 44, was sentenced to 14 months — five to be served in prison and nine to be served in home confinement.

Co-defendant Carla Chambers, a Las Vegas nurse who ran into legal trouble in New Zealand a dozen years ago for another surrogacy scheme, got 12 months — five to be served in prison and seven to be served in home confinement.

When I first read about the situation last summer, I had an overwhelming feeling of nausea that hung around for about two days.  And while the nausea dissipated, as I said after the Hilary Neiman sentencing, the trust I lost when I heard about this still isn’t back.  It feels like it changed online interactions in the ALI community, drawing a firm line between patient and professional.  Once upon a time, if I had a medical question, I would have felt safe asking one of the dozens of blogging doctors.  I did ask my questions about donor gametes or my cycle or adoption or third-party reproduction to these people online.  In fact, I asked Theresa Erickson herself when I had a question about surrogacy.  I thought that being online showed a sort of forward-thinking, a casualness that I appreciated in a person.

Now I wonder about motivations, about the person behind the information.  It is more common to be online now, so that perhaps has changed the way I view doctors or other professionals starting blogs.  But it has been a long time since I’ve asked a question.

The reactions to the original news last summer were emotional.  How do you feel, this many months down the road, having processed the information?  How do you feel reading about the actual sentencing vs. the guilty plea?

Updated: It Is What It Is (or Is It?) put into words what has been bothering me about specifically Theresa Erickson’s involvement in this.  As she states perfectly: “Ms. Erickson’s role overstepped just being an attorney and ventured into the realm of being an advocate and trusted adviser. She made those of us in the IF community feel that she was fighting for us in a different way than a skilled clinician, or RE, no matter how much he hoped for a successful outcome, could. And, beyond that and maybe as importantly, she is a woman. We simply should not exploit then profit from or turn on our own.”  Please go over and read her whole post.  She brought perfect clarity to this situation.

At first I thought my discomfort was simply because I had interacted with her, but it goes beyond that.  Erickson positioned herself in this advocacy role, and then she profited off of us.  She was one of our own based on the way she communicated vs. an RE who holds us as arm’s length.  Therefore, it hurt even more that it was someone we had confided our infertility thoughts.  Who used those thoughts to take advantage of infertile men and women.

Another new food store opened in our tiny town.  This is the fifth supermarket within a mile of one another.  Some are literally next door to one another — enormous brick food-filled monstrosities sitting side by side.  Four of these stores sell the exact same things.  The same Jif, the same butter lettuce, the same Fage yogurt.  Every once in a while, you’ll find an item that is only carried in one store or another, but for the most part, they are interchangeable.  The fifth store overlaps with the other four, but it also carries many specialty items.  The aisles are arranged according to food allergies and special diets, which saves a lot of time since you know any item you find in your aisle likely fits into your diet.  You can go shop in the vegan section and skip the rest of the store.  Or shop in the egg-allergy section and never come face-to-face with a cookie you can’t have.  Clever idea.

But really, there is no reason for our tiny town to have five food stores.

The new store opened with a lot of fanfare.  Coupons, balloons, banners.  When I pulled into my usual food store this morning, the parking lot was empty, and it wasn’t until I got out of my car that I realized why — everyone was at the new food store.  My parking lot was empty, but the lot next door was packed with cars.  It was a very Sneetch-y moment, where it felt like all the cars in the other parking lot were having a wiener roast and we weren’t because there were no stars upon thars.  Except, you know, I could have gone over to the other store and joined in the festivities.  But I didn’t.  Because it’s just a food store with the exact same products as the store with the empty lot.

I am absolutely a creature of habit.  I eat the same meals over and over again.  If I like a brand, I will buy it regardless of the price.  I frequent the same places even if they’re not convenient.  I am not a fan of trying something new if the present option works even somewhat.  Apparently, I am the only person who behaves this way in my town because I pretty much had the entire food store to myself.

When I went to check out, I realized that I had lost the coupon I had been carrying through the store.  I almost never use coupons, so I was pissed off that I had made a huge effort to remember this slip of paper and had somehow lost it between the front door and the cash register.  But this is the advantage to being a creature of habit — the cashier shrugged her shoulders and said, “Mel, I trust you.  I’m taking the money off without the coupon.”  Because she knows I’m an enormous flake.  Because she knows I rarely use coupons therefore would pay attention to the fact I had one this closely.  Because she knows I’m honest.

That’s the advantage to shopping in the same place several times a week for many years.  I know all the employees and they know me.  So, yes, I could have gone to the new store and gotten 20% off my grocery bill, but the people there don’t know that I like all my vegetables in the same bag.  They don’t ask me how yoga is going.  They don’t trust me when I tell them that I had a coupon and lost it.

By the way, I found the coupon the moment I got home inside one of my shopping bags, stuck to a can of crushed tomatoes.

*******

I finished my limerick for Lori’s Limerick Chick contest.  I feel like this may be my year to win (yes, she does have prizes).  This is because I have cleverly lined up six votes for meeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeee.  How did I do that, you ask?  By placing six bloggers in my limerick instead of the minimal one.  These people have to vote for me — because a vote for me is a vote for themselves.  Yes, I really did put this much thought into it.

When a blogger barrels for votes like a powerful twister
She links to many of her ALI sisters
Project Progeny to Jen to Bio
Queenie and Eden and Keiko
A cheap act (you said it, mister)

Vote for me, vote for me!

*******

And now the blogs…

But first, second helpings of the posts that appeared in the open comment thread last week as well as the week before.  In order to read the description before clicking over, please return to the open thread:

• “The Truth about IVF” (Single Infertile Female)
• “Do My Complications Mean I Had No Business Getting Pregnant?” (Adventures of Endo and Pregnancy in the Arctic)
• “Let’s Talk about Sex — and Infertility” (Hannah Wept, Sarah Laughed)
• “On Choosing Love Again” (By the Brooke)
• “Scabbing Over” (MissConception)
• “Unrequited Blog Love” (Too Many Fish to Fry)
• “Bad Parenting II” (No Kidding in NZ)

Okay, now my choices this week.

Birch and Maple has post about the end of her FET, how she thought she’d feel vs. what is going through her mind.  It is the continuous readjustment to a new reality — one where the future looks wholly different from how she imagined it to be.  When she mourns the end of the cycle, it isn’t just about the FET.  It’s about the magical thinking, the sibling for her child, the vision she had of her future or her child’s future after she is gone.  It’s a brief, heartbreaking post.

Family Building with a Twist has a post on a day in the life of a work-outside-the-home mum.  It’s an exhausting schedule when she’s feeling well; too much when she’s sick too.  She writes, “Birth and death and sickness and health and change and carpet beetles cycle around and around. Lately I feel like I’m constantly moving and running and getting nowhere, especially during times like this. Exhausted, I wonder why I bother. I gave up ambitions of setting the world on fire years ago; I’m just a rat in a cage.”  Go read the whole post.

Lastly, Stumbling Gracefully has a thought-provoking post about grief appropriation.  Actually, I think it’s a really important read, especially in a community such as ours where we care deeply about one another.  At most, we are a blogger or two removed from everyone else in the ALI blogosphere.  And we mourn each other’s losses.  She writes: “I understood his concern; he has seen me react poorly to the sad stories of many a blogger I hardly knew, he’s watched me internalize their tragedy and grief, twisting it into fear of the uncertainty of my own life.”  She asks hard questions about the grief we feel over other people’s losses.

The roundup to the Roundup: There’s a benefit to being terrible with change.  Vote for my limerick!  And lots of great posts to read.  So what did you find this week?  Please use a permalink to the blog post (written between February 17th and February 24th) and not the blog’s main url. Not understanding why I’m asking you what you found this week?  Read the original open thread post here.

The other thing I heard about this week (after the Gaffney-Dippold lawsuit) is a new site called Modamily.  It is a social network matching site bringing together people who want to co-parent because they don’t have a partner or are unable to create a child without assistance.  In order to not go the anonymous donor/surrogacy/fertility treatment route, people can find other people who want to co-parent via the site and create a child together.

Co-parenting isn’t a new arrangement — this has been going on in the local, personal sense for decades (centuries?).  A person wants to have a child and cannot due to logistics (GLBT, single parent, partner has fertility issues) and they choose to involve a person in their life who will not only contribute the gametes or the organs, but will also play a role in the child’s life (this is how it differs from gamete donation or surrogacy).  Though that role differs from family to family.  In some cases, there is a primary parent and a secondary parent who sees the child at regular intervals.  Sometimes they both have equal weight with decision-making.  Sometimes the two people live together and sometimes they live apart.  This isn’t just for single parents by choice, the site also states that it is for “anyone interested in forming a modern family.  Gay, straight, single moms/dads looking to have another child, etc…”  If you are in a committed relationship but cannot have a child without fertility treatments, this is an additional option — to bring another parent into the arrangement who will provide the gametes or organs in exchange for a parenting role.

In all co-parenting cases that I know, the two people committing to raising a child together knew each other in the face-to-face world BEFORE reaching this agreement.  They didn’t meet each other for the sole purpose of creating a life together and raising said child together.  They formed a relationship and then decided that this was something they could do well with one another.

But let’s dissect this site idea because while I love the idea of co-parenting, the site raised a lot of red flags for me.  Perhaps it won’t for you, and I’d love to hear how you’re processing it.

First and foremost, the description of the site implies that there is something inherently “less” in being a single parent by choice, an idea I need to refute.  The site says (and I highlight):

In most cases, when using a sperm donor, a mother is resigned to being a single parent. We feel that co-parenting provides more support to the child because it involves two parents that are physically, financially, and emotionally committed. Healthy, happy, and balanced children are what we are trying to achieve and statistically, having both a mother and father within a child’s life dramatically improves chances for a happy and balanced upbringing.

Resigned?  Really?  Resigned?

And I’m not sure what parent attempts to raise an unhealthy, unhappy, unbalanced child — please show me five people who have that as their goal (yes, it sometimes happens that people raise unhealthy, unhappy children, but the implication is that co-parenting has happiness as a goal… whereas single parenting does not).  So the site begins by offending me.

It continues on to explain why people would want a site such as Modamily:

Because people are staying single longer and waiting to get married, sites like Modamily can fill the void by helping those that still want to fulfill dreams of having a child. There’s plenty of time to find Mr. or Mrs. Right, but only a limited time to find Mommy or Daddy Right.

I’m not sure why these two people have to be mutually exclusive.  Or why — again — co-parenting with a recent stranger is preferable to being a single parent by choice.  I know plenty of single parents by choice and they all seem to be doing a fine job at parenting.  They all seem to have well-adjusted children similar to my own.  In fact, I can’t think of any child from a single parent by choice that is lacking in love, support, or care.  I’m also not sure how co-parenting with a recent stranger (meaning, you met them recently — until you connect on the site, you don’t know each other at all) is preferable to the opening scenario on the about-us page:

…enormous amount of pressure for finding a partner, often resulting in rushed marriages ending in divorce. It was even more disheartening when a child was introduced because now that child would often have to be raised in an environment of friction where mommy and daddy did not get along.

Co-parenting doesn’t mean that the two people will get along any moreso than the two people who rushed into marriage.

And buried in the FAQ page is a one sentence warning:

We will also recommend that if you decide to enter into an arrangement with someone you both see a lawyer to hammer out the details.

Ya think?

If the site had angled itself as Match.com but only for those who want kids in the future, I probably wouldn’t have furrowed my brow.  I would have thought, “oh, brilliant, so you know the people you meet there want children vs. going on a date with someone and needing to get to that point where you discuss whether you want to have kids.”  But a dating site for people who want children in the future is very different from a wild west co-parenting site which doesn’t sound as if it is doing much more than connecting two unrelated people.  As of this point, it isn’t counseling users on how to draw up paperwork to legally protect both parents as well as the child.  It isn’t helping facilitate discussions between two people to fully understand the ramifications of co-parenting.  It’s just matching two people because they both… let’s say… like the idea of free-range parenting.  And then sending them off into the sunset to figure out for themselves how they want to get started trying to create their free-ranged offspring.

Your thoughts?