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I write this on Tuesday morning, only moments after returning home from the polls, where I cast a vote that made me happier than any vote I’ve cast in years. Or maybe forever.
There was no question that I’d vote. I’d made arrangements days ago for a friend to watch my little ones; with the prospect of record-setting lines, I worried that they’d be disruptive (or worse) as we waited. But something happened last night that made me even more grimly determined as I made my way to the polls this morning.
My child’s school held a mock-election yesterday, the culmination of several weeks’ worth of discussion of the candidates and the voting process. After school, her siblings and I played outdoors in the warm late-afternoon sunshine, raking up leaves and jumping repeatedly into the piles.
Soon we were joined by our young neighbor, a boy one year older than my daughter. As they raked and jumped, they discussed the results of the mock-election, which Obama had won by a landslide. Our neighbor’s candidate was not the winner, and he ran down the reasons why he was disappointed in the election results.
I listened with interest for a few minutes, but as often happens in the midst of conversations, one of my younger children needed a new diaper, the other one needed to use the potty and the stove timer went off all at once. We retired inside with instructions for my eldest to join us in ten minutes.
When she came inside, we’d dealt with our toileting crises and had dinner on the table. “Mom,” she asked, with her small brown brown furrowed in concentration, “Is it true that Obama wants to kill all the babies?”
“Why would you think that?” I asked, aghast.
As it turns out, this was one of her friend’s main reasons for voting against Obama. He’d come to the conclusion (on his own, or with the help of his parents, or church) that a vote for Obama meant a vote for killing infants. All of them.
So I spent the evening having a long, unplanned conversation with my child about the mechanics of and many possible reasons for abortion. “So…sometimes people have sex and forget that they’re could have a baby?” she asked in confusion at one point.
“Well, kind of, honey,” I answered. “Sometimes people have sex and don’t think about a possible baby.”
“Then why do they do it, if it’s not to have a baby?”
I laughed. “Because it feels good, honey.” Apparently I wasn’t clear enough about this aspect of sexuality in our past discussions.
She thought for a moment. “I’m only going to have sex when I want to make a baby.”
Briefly I considered asking her to sign a paper acknowledging that fact. “You might change your mind about that when you get older, baby. You can do things to be careful, so you don’t make a baby that you’re not ready for. Then there will be less of a chance that you’ll need to worry about abortions.”
I cast my vote with these thoughts in mind, and with a hope that maybe someday we can discuss the termination of a pregnancy without the kind of rhetoric that accuses one candidate of wanting to kill all the babies.
——
Update…11ish pm 11-4-2008 I hope, I hope, I hope…

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