According to a study from NORML, Marijuana has been smoked by 95 million Americans. And an estimated 8,120,045 people use marijuana habitually with over 100 uses per year. Since 1965 20 million arrests have been made in the name of marijuana, and it has cost taxpayers an almost countless mountain of money. The government has spent billions of our dollars, fighting the very thing that Americans gladly pay for, each and every day. Marijuana has proven and substantial health benefits and it has been shown to ease tension, relieve stress, treat PTSD and help countless other disorders. Marijuana isn’t a cure all, not by a long shot, but this antiquated sentiment that marijuana is poisoning the minds of our youth is about as outdated as the notion that alcohol is harmless.

Here are some things you might not know, and the answer to the longstanding question, Should we push for marijuana reform?

*Marijuana costs us, Joe Taxpayer, Billions. That’s with a B. We chase, prosecute, and house millions for marijuana related offenses and continue to do so, despite the overwhelming marijuana movement. One person being jailed for a victimless crime is one too many, and our jails are filled with them. Prison systems are full and private prisons have been sprouting up across the country to keep up with the demand to house marijuana related offenders while people who do truly stupid things are let out of jail to make more room for the kid caught growing a plant in his basement closet. (Paris Hilton, drunk driving?) *Crime only pays criminals because we allow it to. Taxing marijuana could reroute billions of dollars back into our struggling economy, end a failed war on drugs, and provide priceless relief for millions of struggling and disabled citizens. It will also put the drug cartels of foreign countries on the run, because let’s face it, no one would be smoking brick weed if the plant was available in your own backyard. The black market drug trade (akin to alcohol prohibition’s organized crime movement) flourishes in place of a legalized, taxed and regulated market. *Marijuana is the intelligent choice for pain control. The government has offered marijuana in pill form, so that they can profit from this anti-inflammatory analgesic pain relieving plant while refusing to admit that the medicinal benefits are valid, proven, and logical. What they cannot deny is that it helps millions every single day, despite the social stigma and legal status.Marijuana can provide regulated pain control without obscurring your ability to function. You can parent your children, love your spouse and fight your pain, can you say that about opiates? *It remains illegal in (far too) many states and the war on drugs has failed to slow, let alone stop the use and distribution of Marijuana anywhere in the United States. 90% of the money allocated for the war on drugs is used to prosecute marijuana related crimes, leaving 10% for all other drugs including heroin, methamphetamines, cocain and the tsunami of crimes related to prescription medications. More people die from prescription medications in one day, than people who have EVER died from overdosing on marijuana, the number of marijuana overdoses has been ZERO for thousands of years. More people have died from alcohol in the time it has taken you to read this post, than have ever died from marijuana. *To allow marijuana prohibition we are telling the government that we would like them to regulate what we can put in our own bodies, a basic human right of choice. I do not care what you do with your body, and I’d appreciate it if you didn’t care what I did with mine.

Keep your laws off of my body

End Marijuana Prohibition today.

© 2009, AntiSoccermom. All rights reserved to the original author unless stated otherwise.

“Mommy, Weed!” His two year old mouth forms the words unexpectedly. I watch his frustrated hands ball into tiny two year old fists, he slows down just like he always does to make a point. “Mommy, weed” He says again, less frustration, more calm resolve to help me understand but his shocking words leave me breathless. My eyebrows are raised and I have an exasperated look of confusion on my face. As a medicinal Cannabis patient I have kept my medicine, like all medicines, out of the reach and view of my children, a feat I was positive I had conquered until I heard the word slip from his innocent mouth. Shocked, I look at his father, who is smiling and shrugging his shoulders. One of the hardest parts of being a chronically ill patient has been to keep the topic of marijuana away from my amazingly alert children. They pick up the accidental slip of a four letter word, without thinking twice. They repeat the stories I swore I never told in front of them, they remember things far longer than they should. While I usually see these traits as a positive development, I can also see where it may pose certain problems for our family.Such as this moment, when my child is screaming “WEED” at me in increasingly frustrated fury. His pleas get louder as I try to figure out what to do. Do I reprimand a two year old for talking about weed? Do I sit down and explain to him like I have to the older children, that medicine isnt a joke and that we need to keep it quiet? Do I talk openly, or keep quiet myself? I am sitting on the couch, overwhelmed with the little one’s new found freedom with the word. I am stunned silent, unsure of what to even say to the little guy. I tried so hard to keep him sheltered from the unnecessary burden of knowing about my medication. Had I failed as a parent? It is then that the little boy who shares my smile and his father’s perfect dimples, climbs in to my lap. He brings his favorite toy, a halloween book of puppies in costumes and puts his hand on my cheek. A simple trick to get me to look him in the eye, he reiterates. “Mommy, weed” “Read?” I say, a flood of relief pooling at the dam of my self doubt. He smiles and pushes the book into my hands. “Mommy Read” He says again, using those new found R sounds we’ve been working on. He grins his famous weasel grin, and we flip through the book for the millionth time this week. He squeals at the part where the puppy dresses like a princess, He makes buzzing noises for the bee page, He begs to read it again before we finish the first go round. Two years old and still as innocent as ever, this little guy has taught me more about being a parent than I could ever fathom understanding. Just when I think I have failed, he shows me that we are doing the best we can. It wasn’t the lesson I thought I’d be learning, but an important one nonetheless. Mommy, weed.

© 2009, AntiSoccermom. All rights reserved to the original author unless stated otherwise.