Learning to Lie

As the second anniversary of Zach's passing approaches, I can't help but think of how far I've come in my Grief.
I've learned to function around it, and smile in spite of it. I've learned how to hide my pain, and keep pushing forward. But most of all, I've learned to lie.
Lying is a huge part of dealing with Grief. I lie to myself, and I lie to those around me. I smile when I want to scream, I laugh when I want to cry, and I pretend to be ok, when I am anything but. Hollywood actors have nothing on the functioning grieving parent. We are so skilled at pretending to be normal, that sometimes, we even convince ourselves.
But I'm not normal. I'll never be normal again. I'll never be the person I was two years ago. She died that day too...
And so I lie. I lie each morning, when I convince myself to get out of bed, saying that today will be better. I lie each time I put on my make-up, or a pretty outfit, telling myself that it will make me feel better. I lie over and over again throughout the day when people ask me how I'm doing, and I say "I'm fine." or "Doing good." I lie each night, when I lay down in bed, and think "Tomorrow is a new day." But it's not a new day. While the date on the calendar might be different, it doesn't change the date in my heart, and mind. The day that is on an eternal loop through my head, constantly reminding me of what I lost, and will never get back.
I'm a liar now. I lie to strangers, and to those I love. I should feel guilty, but I don't. It's for everyone's benefit. No one wants to hear the truth. No one wants to know how I really feel. I lie to protect them. And to protect myself. So I say I'm ok. I smile, and crack a joke. It's easier that way.
But sometimes... I want to tell the truth. I want people to know how much it hurts. I want them to understand that no amount of time will ease the ache in my chest. That I will NEVER be ok without my son.
I want them to know that when I'm alone, I cry all the time. In the shower, in my car, at my desk, and when I'm awake in bed at night, next to my sleeping husband. I want to tell them that I love them, but that it also rips at my heart to see them with their happy, whole families. That sometimes I'm overwhelmed with jealousy at something as simple as seeing a father holding his son, or a mother kiss a boo boo.
I want them to understand that the pain of Grief isn't just emotional. It's also physical. Constant headaches, backaches, chest pains, and more. And sometimes the strain of keeping my emotions in check leaves me feeling utterly exhausted.
I want to tell them that sometimes I just want to hide from the world, and the constant triggers all around me. That I can't bear to see another commercial with a smiling, happy family, or hear a song about heartbreak. That even seemingly innocent social media posts hit me like a knife to the chest.
But I can't tell them. Because it's not fair. They shouldn't feel guilty for being happy. And I want them to be happy.
So I'll just keep lying...

Storybook Baby Shower

My beautiful sister in law is having her first baby in a few short months. To honor her, and this blessing, her mother and I threw her a baby shower. I LOVE party planning. It combines all the things I enjoy most. Creativity, organization, decorating, crafts, and more.
For this shower, we decided on a storybook theme. As a huge bookworm, I couldn't help but be delighted by this choice. But it also allowed for a more mature and sophisticated party, which is what the mom-to-be was looking for.
We decided on a color backdrop of yellow and white, which is bright, happy, and perfect for a mid summer shower.
Once the theme and colors were chosen, it was just a matter of putting the rest of the details together. The grandma-to-be found a gorgeous banquet room at a restaurant, so that covered the food and location, which was great, since it allowed us to focus on the little details and special touches.
We began with the invitations. Since the theme was storybook, we wanted to incorporate that into every part of the shower, especially the invitations. So I designed and handcrafted special "books".

Each page was rhyming, and included all the pertinent information. Where, when, etc. So it read like a miniature story. And in lieu of using the standard registry cards, I opted to make "bookmarks" instead, further adding to the fun theme.

Then once they were all made and ready, I sealed the envelope up with a stamp. (And the story begins)

The invitations were a hit, and it really set the party theme off right. Definitely a bit more time and effort involved in hand making invitations, but if you can do it, I strongly suggest it. The special touch it adds is worth it.

Once we had the invitations mailed off, I set to work on the rest of the event. I began by choosing games. The guest of honor was not a big fan of traditional baby games, and requested something simple and low key. Sticking to the book theme, I created two games. The first was a word scramble, using the names of characters from popular children's books, and the second was a quiz, testing the guests knowledge of children's stories.

With games come prizes, and we all love a good prize. I chose one fun prize, and one practical prize, since we had a varied age range of guests. The fun prizes were candle warmers, with 2 packs of scented wax melts, and a package of tealights.

I wrapped them all up in clear cello bags, and tied it up with a tag that was made to look like a popular children's book. Inside each book tag was a message.

For the more practical prizes, I chose an oven mitt, tucked 3 kitchen utensils inside of it (slotted spoon, spatula, and spoon) and added a package of scrubby dish cloths. Again, I tied these up and added a book tag as well.

Since we also had a diaper & wipe raffle, we needed a couple nice prizes for the lucky winners of that. For that, we opted for some pampering shower goodies. Body wash, scrub, sponges, facial masks, etc.

Instead of the book tags for these, I decided on a little word play I had seen on Pinterest, and made tags that said "From our shower to yours..." which I thought was adorable.
And because we didn't want anyone to leave empty handed, for everyone who didn't win a prize, we had beautiful bookmarks as a consolation prize.

One of my favorite parts of planning and hosting a party is the decorating. I love finding creative ways to incorporate a theme into even the smallest of details. This shower was no exception. The main focal point for the decorations was a long table at the entrance to the room. I used this space to bring in some special and meaningful touches for the mom-to-be. I created a clothesline of sorts, and hung up both of the outfits the mom & dad to be came home from the hospital in, and one special outfit for the new baby. I also had photo copies of nursery rhymes from old books, and hung them on the line as well. Below that were special photos and some old toys, all displayed alongside childhood favorite books from both of the parents to be.

Not only was this space a great conversation starter, but it made a beautiful backdrop for special photos of the mom to be and her guests.
The next big décor choice was the table centerpieces. For this, we really tied in to the book theme. I wanted and needed several books to pull this off, and I have to say that my friends really came through for me here. I put in a request for some books, and received more than I expected. So thank you to everyone who donated their old books. (All books used as decorations were sent home with the mom to be to start a wonderful library for the baby.)
For the centerpieces, we started with yellow and white gingham fabric, cut with pinking shears into large squares. On that, we stacked several books, topped that with a mason jar of simple flowers, with lemon slices in the water, and added a framed quote about reading or books. The finished product looked like this.

Simple, elegant, and perfect. Each table had a different quote, and a different stack of books. I couldn't be happier with how these turned out.
With a few balloons for color, and a few small touches here and there, that was about it for the decorations.
We also had the most delicious and adorable cupcakes that the mom to be ordered from a friend. They were individually wrapped so that each guest could take it home if they wanted. Each one was tied off with a book tag, with a special message from the guest of honor inside. The cupcakes were so cute, we gave them their own table to display them on.

It's hard to see them in this photo, but they were beautifully done and DELICIOUS! And for those of you wondering, yes, that is Hank the Gnome peeking out from beside the flowers. He dressed up for the occasion and made a special appearance.

I also handmade pin/corsages for the Mom-to-be and the two grandmas to wear for the party.

All in all, I think it was a success. The food was amazing, the guests were wonderful and generous, and the Mommy to be was smiling the entire time. I think this baby boy is going to be spoiled rotten with love, and I'm so happy to have been a part of this special day.





Berry Best Things: ROCKABETTY BAGS

For those of you who know me, you are aware of my love of all things vintage, pin-up, and fabulous. I am also a huge fan of one of a kind, unique accessories.
Well, did you know that there was a company out there that combined the best of both? It's called ROCKABETTY BAGS, and they are AHH-MAY-ZING.
ROCKABETTY BAGS is the dream child of the lovely and talented, Katrina Midkiff, from California.
Around age 6, Miss Katrina was on a trip to JC Penny with her mom, when she fell in love with the doll purses like this one.

A fun purse with a cute doll inside? Who WOULDN'T love that?
It's a girl's dream come true right there. As she grew up, she still cherished the memory of that adorable purse, and yearned for something similar, but stylish and functional enough for a classy lady like herself.
So she developed and started ROCKABETTY BAGS. A brand of handbags that combined Katrina's pin-up style, flair for fashion, and whimsy.
I stumbled upon her designs online, and was instantly in love. They just screamed "BUY ME!" and my adoring & wonderful hubs did just that. After chatting with Katrina about what I was looking for, she designed me a doll and bag that bring me endless joy.
Until recently, you had to purchase your ROCKABETTY BAG directly, through Miss Katrina, but as of August this year, they will be available through Hot Topic (in stores and online) and this is a HUGE accomplishment for Katrina. A long and hard road, and something she is incredibly proud of. As she should be.
ROCKABETTY BAGS are easily some of the most beautifully made, unique, and fun purses I have ever seen. As a matter of fact, I'm lucky enough to own TWO of them.



And no matter where I am, I am constantly getting compliments on them. They are a wonderful conversation starter, and I just cannot rave enough about how happy they make me. Each doll was custom designed and handcrafted by Katrina herself, and the love she puts into each one is evident in every single detail. They are more than a purse, they are a statement, and one I am happy to make. I love knowing that I will never see another person with the same bag as me. Nothing compliments a retro inspired outfit quite like this bag, and when you carry one, you are telling the world that you have style, sass, and a sense of humor. Much like the creator herself.

This gorgeous woman is one of my fashion icons, and easily one of the most beautiful, talented, and genuine ladies I've ever met.
She truly puts her heart and soul into whatever she does, and it shows. She is an inspiration, and she is proof that if you have a dream and work hard, anything is possible.
ROCKABETTY BAGS come in a variety of styles and colors, and the dolls are removable, so you can change them up as often as you like. Katrina has created some of the most lovely dolls I've ever seen, from classic pin-up to zombie girls, and everything in between.
Her artistic skills are astounding.

If you haven't already, you MUST follow ROCKABETTY BAGS on Facebook (click here) and Twitter as well (click here) to see all the latest news and designs, and to check out all the fabulous creations Katrina has designed so far. I promise you, you won't be disappointed.

And come August, you need to get your booties into Hot Topic and check out her amazing line, and pick one up for yourself, or for a fabulous lady in your life.

Just look at how much I love mine. If I loved it anymore, I would marry it and have gorgeous, glittery little purse babies with it.

What Growing Up Poor Taught Me

"Money doesn't grow on trees you know." A line most children from blue collar, working class families heard a time or two growing up. Or in my dad's case, it was "Want in one hand, sh*t in the other, and see which one fills up first." Slightly more colorful, but the same basic message applied.
I grew up in a relatively large family. Six kids (I'm the youngest.) and we had foster kids for many years as well. For the first 10 years of my life, we lived in a big old house that looked like a giant barn. Mostly because in its first life, it HAD been a giant barn. (Insert the "Were you born in a barn?" jokes here.) But despite its size, it was far from fancy. WE were far from fancy. My parents were the king and queen of stretching a buck. Frugal doesn't even begin to describe it. For all intents and purposes, we were poor. Not that I knew that at the time. I was well fed, well dressed, and happy. But looking back, I know the struggles my mom and dad went through to keep us that way. I remember quite a few "I'm sorry kids, Christmas just isn't going to be very good this year." talks, and more Leftover Casseroles than I can count. But Christmas morning would come, and we always had gifts to open. I never remember feeling disappointed. And to this day, Leftover Casseroles are some of my favorite foods.
Growing up in a paycheck to paycheck lifestyle taught me a lot about life. Lessons that I'm just not sure I would have learned if I had been born into a wealthy family. Lessons like these.

*Want vs. Need: Kids always want everything their friends have, and everything they see on TV. My siblings and I were no different. We'd drool over the Toys R Us Wishbook for hours and days. Circling our favorites, and giving my parents an endless list of reasons why we just couldn't live without those things. But we learned early on that what we wanted and what we needed were two very different things. We needed food, shelter, and clothing. We WANTED video games, expensive shoes, and new bikes. Sure, from time to time, my parents would surprise us, and we'd get something off of our want list. But more often than not, we made due with what we had. And you know what? We survived. And now, as an adult, I understand priorities. As much as I might want the 5000 sq. ft. house, I don't NEED that much space. Nor is it practical.

*Responsibility and Respect for Property: When you grow up poor, you understand that getting gifts and treats is a privilege, not a right. You know that while your bike might not be the fanciest one on the block, it does get you from point A to point B, and a new one isn't in the budget. So you take good care of it, because you want it to last. If we ripped our pants, they didn't get thrown away, they got fixed. Those jeans survived 3 kids, they can survive at least one more. We learned to respect what we had, because if we broke or ruined something, there was no guarantee we'd get another. We learned to appreciate things, and be responsible with them. To this day, I live that way. I drive a 1998 Subaru, and as far as I'm concerned, it's a Ferrari, and I treat it as such.

*Creativity: I always wanted a Barbie Dream House growing up. But that one was never in the budget. So I improvised. I turned my bedroom bookcase into Barbie's  Dream Apartment Complex. Complete with shoebox on a string elevator. My pink roller skates made the perfect convertible, and mom's giant Tupperware bowl was the ultimate swimming pool. My sister and her friends would find me doll furniture at garage/yard sales, and they made me doll clothes out of fabric scraps from Home Ec class. To this day, I believe I had the best dressed dolls around. When you aren't handed everything you think you "need", you learn to make due with what you have. That taught me creative thinking, and problem solving skills, that I use every single day.

*Hard Work, and the Value of a Dollar: I remember when I was a teenager, and I first really learned about name brand attire. Prior to that, I wouldn't have known K-Mart from Kate Spade. But suddenly, it mattered what you wore. So I wanted those brands too. Until my mom took me school shopping, and said that if I wanted those brands, I could only get 1-2 outfits. But if I got regular stuff, I could get so much more. Ummm... screw you, Z. Cavaricci, you are not THAT cool. And as I grew up, and had jobs, I rarely spent my money on name brands. I understood that paying for a name just wasn't worth it. When you have to work a month to pay for a pair of jeans, you start to rethink what's important. I still don't get the draw of a name. You'd be hard pressed to find anything name brand in my closet or home.

*Patience: When I was growing up, we didn't get toys and gifts all the time for no reason. We didn't go to the store with mom to get groceries and come home with new stuff. We didn't get treats just for doing our chores, being nice to our siblings, or acting right. Those things were just expected. Not rewarded. If you wanted a new video game or doll, you had to wait until your birthday, or Christmas. Which gave you plenty of time to decide if that was something you REALLY wanted. More often than not, that "hot new must have toy" was forgotten about by the following week. In this day and age of instant gratification, kids have never learned patience. We wonder why they have rooms full of toys they never play with. But when you are handed everything you want, as soon as you want it, the novelty wears off very quickly. If you have to earn it, or wait for it, suddenly... that item has a lot more value. "Good things come to those who wait." still holds true.

*Find Joy in Small Things: I think the most important lesson that growing up poor taught me, was to find happiness wherever you can. To enjoy the little moments, and to be grateful for what you have right now. I understand how to live within my means, and be perfectly happy there. I have no desire to keep up with the Joneses, and I'm not in competition with anyone. I understand that joy isn't in possessions, but within ourselves. I learned to appreciate the simple things in life, and I'll carry that with me always.

Don't Ignore Your Inner Child

Yesterday I built a blanket fort in my living room. There were no children at my house, just me and the hubs. Why then, did I build it? Why not? I was bored, and I felt like building a fort. So I did. Then I spent the remainder of the evening in it, and I enjoyed every minute of it.
My house was clean, the dishes done. Dinner had been made and consumed. Rather than sit on my butt and watch TV, I opted to empty my linen closet and have some silly fun.
We all have those childhood memories that we look back on fondly. Sometimes, we even attempt to recreate them with our own kids. But rarely do we enjoy them as adults. We are in such a hurry to grow up, that we part with our toys, and our imaginations so quickly, and without thought. Only to realize years down the road, that childhood was truly magical, and now just a distant memory.
But it doesn't have to be. Growing older doesn't mean you can no longer enjoy the trappings of your youth. It doesn't mean that the magic has to end. And you don't even need to use your kids, grandkids, nieces, nephews, and neighborhood rugrats as an excuse. Do it for you. Because it makes YOU happy.
Life is filled with struggle. As adults, it's difficult to ignore the ugly sides of reality. Bills need to be paid, bosses have expectations, the lawn needs to be mowed. There's always something demanding your time and attention. But what if every once in awhile, you stopped and did something childlike? What if after you raked that pile of leaves, you jumped in it? For no other reason than just to do it. What if, after the kids went to bed, you put on their superhero cape and jumped on the trampoline? I can guarantee you this... the world will not end, and you WILL smile. For those few moments, you can forget your cares. You can essentially... be a kid again.
Most of what made childhood so fun was the lack of worry. We didn't worry if the dishes were done. We didn't worry about what other people would think. We just acted on instinct. If the swings tempted us, we ran for them and swung until our legs ached. We spent hours playing make believe, and pretended to be knights and princesses. We used our imaginations, and soared on the backs of dragons without ever leaving our backyards. We played, and we played hard.
Then somewhere along the way, we just stopped playing. We believed we had to. That grown ups didn't blow bubbles, color, or cannonball into swimming pools. But why? I thought the whole bonus to being an adult was that you could do whatever you wanted. You could eat cupcakes and ice cream for dinner, and wear shorts in the winter. Being an adult meant that you made up your own rules. Yet most adults live under this secret, unspoken code of conduct. These rules benefit no one, yet so many people still allow them to control their behaviors.
Well not me. I know I'm a grown up. I don't need to prove it to anyone. If I want to wear Hello Kitty underpants, and watch Saturday Morning Cartoons, I'll be damned if I'll let anyone tell me otherwise.
If I want to rock a sparkly tiara and fairy wings to clean my house, I will. And you know what... I'll be happier because of it.
Stop letting the world tell you that childhood ends at any certain age, because it only ends when we stop playing, and I have no intention of ever doing that.
Life is stressful. Being an adult is hard. But you know the best part about being an adult? You can mix together all the joys of childhood with the best parts of adulthood. Crack a beer and do some coloring, and tell me that doesn't relieve your stress. Build a fort, and invite your partner to join you in it. (wink, wink) Put on a tutu and dance around your living room to gansta rap. Do whatever makes you happy, and do it now. We only have so much time here, and there's no excuse to spend it being miserable. Don't ignore your inner child. Let them out to play from time to time. I promise you, you won't regret it.

Yoga: A First Timer's Perspective

Last night, I tried yoga.
A couple friends of mine invited me to try out a class with them, and since they had a $5 coupon for me to use, I could hardly say no. I mean, I spend more than that at Taco Bell, so I figured what the hell.
I asked what attire I should wear, and since you all know how I feel about yoga pants, I was hoping to avoid that descent into the wardrobe from hell. I was told "Something tight. Shorts are good too."
Here's the thing... I'm almost 35. I gave up shorts and most tight fitting garments like 7 years ago. I literally had nothing to wear. So I made a quick trip to the store, and after trying on nearly every other possible option, I left with a pair of dreaded yoga pants. I kid you not, I died a little inside as I was ringing them up. I didn't get the lifting, sucking, tucking, look at my ass kind either. I'm cheap. I bought the least expensive ones they had. After trying them on, I realized there was also no way to wear them without having a super obvious panty line. Since I'm not a yoga pants expert, I texted my friend, Vanessa, who is, and asked what the underskivvy situation was with them. She said most people go commando, but she proudly rocks the panty line. Since V is the most fashionable person I know, I opted to follow in her panty line footsteps. I also assumed an extra layer would help me avoid the evil camel toe.
Once the wardrobe situation was handled, I moved on to my other concern, which was my undeniable lack of flexibility. Yoga is all about stretching and bending, both of which I max out just getting out of bed. But I was again told not to worry. That you don't have to be flexible to benefit. Ok, if you say so...
Class time arrives.
I'm decked out in yoga pants, sports bra, and tank top. At this point, I'm also wishing I had invested in those fake glasses with the mustache attached, because I can barely believe I left the house in that.
We go in, sign up, and I rent a mat. We proceed into a darkened room, with what I assume they think is relaxing, peaceful music playing, but all I hear is a hippie drum circle, and I'm half expecting someone to pass a pipe or a tray of brownies. No one did. That was a letdown...
We get situated, and quietly giggle amongst ourselves. Other people are stretching, and looking like they know what to do. I address my final, last minute concerns with my friends, who once again convince me all will be well.
Class begins...
Nary 3.5 seconds into class, she starts using some weird foreign language/speaking in tongues. Apparently they are names for poses and whatnot, but damned if I knew. So I did the 'peek around and see what everyone else is doing' move. Note to self: get a yoga translator before you go again.
But I figured it out, and managed to follow along pretty well. (There were no mirrors, so I could convince myself that I looked as fluent and graceful as everyone else.)
I stretched as far as my candy and goldfish cracker filled body would stretch. I didn't reach my toes. I've NEVER been able to reach my toes. As far as I'm concerned, my toes are on another planet. But reach for them I did. And I breathed. I bent my body into positions that I wouldn't even attempt naked and with my hubs.
I spent a great deal of time with my ass high in the air, silently begging my body not to relax too much and rip one directly into my buddy's face. (It was brought to my attention prior to class that this is something that happens to some people. I very badly did NOT want to be one of those people.)
I also spent a great deal of time with my face buried into my own cleavage. And while that sounds delightful, it makes deep breathing a tad challenging. But I managed to deal. So I bent, and I stretched, and I breathed. And I sweat. A lot. I'd like to say it was from the yoga, but it was more than likely because we were doing yoga in a sauna. Seriously... are fans and A/C against the yoga religion?? Your hippie music and soft lighting are great, but the fact that I had to repeatedly pull my yoga pants out of my sweaty ass and do camel toe checks made relaxing nearly impossible. It also turned my yoga mat into a sweaty slip and slide, which made balancing on one foot, whilst turned at a 90 degree angle a bit tricky at times.
But... I did it. I finished the class. I didn't fall on my ass, and I didn't feel like a complete and total fool. That alone made it feel like quite the achievement.
Would I go again? Yes. But probably not there. It was a good class, and the instructor was great, but I'm gonna look for a place with air conditioning, or at the very least, an open window.
Besides, I own yoga pants now... I'm obligated to use them.
So if you're interested in trying out yoga, I strongly suggest you do it. Based on how my body feels today, I can tell you that it REALLY works. And if my old, non flexible ass can do it, truly ANYONE can. Go with an open mind, and a sense of humor, and you'll do great. Also... skipping the burrito beforehand might be a good idea as well. ;) Namaste.

True story.

How Far Is Too Far?

I try not to follow the news. I find that it's mostly useless information that feeds the fears of the weak minded and uninformed. But it's been hard to ignore the hoopla over the case of a certain craft supply chain and its religious rights.
Let me start by saying that I believe in freedom of religion. I think that people should have the rights and freedoms to practice (or NOT practice) whatever faiths they choose.
But even more strongly than that, I believe in the separation of church and state. Religion and politics should be like oil and water. But let's be honest... they are more like water and salt. Dissolving into one another until it's difficult to separate the two. Our country has long been run by religion in one form or another. Politicians have been bought and paid for by the church and its supporters since the earliest of times. This is fact. But we ignore it mostly, because it doesn't directly effect us. But how far is too far? When do we stop and really take notice of how intertwined religion has become in the making of guidelines, rules, and laws? Is it when YOUR religious beliefs are effected?
I spent nearly a year working for a man who was a practicing Scientologist. He required that his entire staff take part in those practices. We even agreed to it. We just didn't know it at the time. When we filled out our employment paperwork, there was one form that had a quote about hard work, and self improvement. On this form it stated that we would be required to take part in "training days" where we would learn new techniques and skills to help improve the business. We had to sign this form agreeing to attend. We all did. Months later, when my first "training day" arrived, I  quickly learned that instead of business skills, I was being taught Scientology. Albeit, in a loosely disguised manner, but Scientology all the same. When I brought this to my immediate boss' attention, I was told that I was made aware of this and had signed my agreement to it. The quote on the form I signed had been by L. Ron Hubbard (founder of Scientology) and apparently I should have automatically known what that implied. When I stated that I was uncomfortable with these courses, and would rather not participate. I was told that by refusing to take part, I was voluntarily resigning. In other words, I was being forced to practice something against my will. After talking to other staff members, I discovered that we had no legal leg to stand on either. Some of them had contacted attorneys, and were told that by signing that simple piece of paper, we had essentially signed away our rights.
Now, personally, I'm not a religious individual. I could do the "training" and remain unaffected by it. But that wasn't the case for everyone. In fact, one of my co-workers had an especially difficult time. She had been raised in a strict Christian household, and had immense guilt over taking part. But she also had a family to support, and needed her job.
When I heard about the ruling made in the recent craft store case, I couldn't help but feel bad for the employees of that company. When you accept a job, you agree to the rules of that company, assuming they are in place for safety, efficiency, etc. You would never assume that those rules would impede upon your rights, religious or otherwise. The religion of the owners of a company, especially one as large as that, should never be forced upon an employee. That chain is not a church, it is not a non profit, it is a business. It exists to make money. The employees pay taxes just like anyone else, and they are entitled to their freedoms, and ALL of their freedoms, just as much as anyone else. It's easy to say "Well if they don't like it, they should work somewhere else." but that is not always possible, nor is it logical.
I understand that the owner's religion doesn't agree with birth control. Fine, then don't get it. But do you get to decide that for everyone else? What if suddenly your boss decided that he no longer agreed with the idea of lunch? And so he banned you from eating lunch? How would you feel?
Life is filled with things that we won't all like and agree with. That doesn't mean that we get to tell someone else that they have to dislike it also.
Instead of applauding this company for "beating the government", maybe you should take a moment and think about the people this decision effected. Like the woman who suffers from painful endometriosis, and takes birth control to reduce the symptoms. Or the young girl with a family history of ovarian cancer who takes it to reduce her risk. And without insurance, neither of them can afford it. So for all their religious arguments, where's the one about not doing harm to others?
When common sense, logic, and basic decency are clouded by religion, and the government supports that... this will only be the first domino to fall....