Snarky Belle

Dividing Lines

2011-01-12T10:15:00.012-05:00

When my daughter died, there was no one to blame. Believe me, I tried to find someone.

I wanted to blame myself. But that didn't work. I had taken my prenatal vitamins. I never missed a checkup. I was a healthy 23 year old. I didn't smoke, drink or do drugs. Of course I was far from perfect. But overall I was a good girl, did everything pretty much by the book.

Blame my husband? Nope, that didn't work either. He didn't cause her Trisomy 18. He desperately wanted to fix everything, and felt completely helpless when he couldn't.

What about the doctors? No such luck. They diagnosed the problem as soon as signs appeared. They were compassionate and amazingly thorough. Couldn't blame them either.

No matter how hard I tried, I just couldn't find a person on this earth to blame; therefore, I blamed God. I stayed angry for a solid 3 years. Since I couldn't save my child from her own chromosomes, thus allowing her to live in this world, I chose to become pissed at the world. And God had created it, so who better to blame? Do you know what it feels like to have a full-term baby, a human being, die inside of you? Trust me, you want someone to blame. Your rational mind tells you blame won't bring the child back to you. Blame will not erase the horror of that moment when you realized your first child would never go home to the nursery you lovingly prepared. Blame does nothing but fuel the fire that's already raging.

You may wonder why I speak and write of my firstborn so frequently. It is because the majority of my life lessons have stemmed from my experiences with her. I know others have similar experiences and never speak of them. But, with the death of my firstborn, a passion ignited within my soul. She was my defining moment. In 1996, the dividing line in my life was etched... "pre-Victoria" and "post-Victoria".

When we found out our child would not live, there were many questions. Would she be born alive? If so, how would doctors keep her alive long enough to perform surgery on this tiny infant? They would have to remove her heart, and reconstruct it. How long, if at all, would she live after that surgery? Her little body was full of tumors and defects. I sincerely believed we could survive all of the above. I just needed her to be born alive, so that I could look into her eyes. Just once. I never dreamed that would be too much to ask. I remember telling my family that I would survive, as long as she wasn't stillborn. I needed to share just one moment with my first child, both of us having open eyes.

Take my experience and please see that even under the most loving circumstances, death can wreak havoc in the lives of those it touches. My heart was shattered with the passing of my child, and all she ever knew was peace. All she ever knew of this world was warmth, light, and love. The only negativity surrounding the death of my child was that which I knowingly invited into my life. I did not invite grief, but I also don't believe grief is negative. Grieving allows us to heal. I chose anger. I also chose bitterness. I invited them in, and they became my constant companions. No one forced anything upon me.

What if the opposite happens, and all the negativity is forced into your life? My heart truly aches for the families of those lost in the recent Tucson tragedy. Tremendous pain has been forced upon them. So much hate, fear, and bitterness that they did not invite into their lives. It saddens me beyond what I can describe. This was a tragedy, it needs no dramatization. But unfortunately, as can be witnessed in the media, there are those determined to do just that. This post is not at all what I thought I would be writing. Over the past few days, I have spent hours researching, successfully dredging up nasty comments from politicians on both sides of the aisle. It became quite clear. You can easily find countless statements to support your opinion of who is to blame. And I had every intention of showing that politicians and talk radio hosts, from every political party and all walks of life, have made vitriolic comments. I had every intention of naming names. I was set on pointing out that regardless of what is reported, the rhetoric flows all too freely from both sides. And the majority of us (those who are stable, healthy individuals) are capable of discernment.

In the end, my heart got the best of me. I thank Victoria for that. My nature moves me toward cynicism. I often say I'm a realist when, truth be told, that's just my way of sugar-coating the pessimism. Thankfully, the lessons learned from my daughter move me to greater things, if I allow them. I don't want to be part of the nasty back and forth. Call me naive, but I just won't believe it represents who we really are, not collectively anyway. I choose to believe that the majority of us prefer civility, and wish our government officials would speak more kindly. Most importantly, all the blame in the world will not return lost loved ones to their families. They are hurting enough already. When my child died, there was no firestorm surrounding my grief. There was no media blitz, no barrage of opinions or outbursts beating down my door. And still, I wasn't sure if I could survive that pain. How must the family members in Tucson feel? I can't imagine.

Having a stillborn child robbed me of many moments. Christmas mornings with all of my children together, family pictures with all six of us smiling...I could go on and on. But more than what was taken from me, is what I gained. Empathy, and the desire to rid my life of any more dividing lines. The "pre-Victoria"/"post-Victoria" dividing line is more than enough for me. I will certainly always have opinions. But I know that I honor my daughter most when I refuse to allow those opinions to fuel fires and foster division.

Who Knew?

2010-11-17T07:25:00.004-05:00

You most certainly can make up for lost time.

And I highly recommend it.

If You Say It, You Better Mean It

2010-10-04T09:18:00.021-04:00

My family stays slightly annoyed by my tendency to chuck things. I enjoy throwing things away. I open my mail in the garage, right beside the huge trash can. I hate random papers. I don't have prized possessions. I know that eventually things will break or I will fall out of love with them. My home could become cluttered. The mere thought of clutter leaves me struggling to breathe.

While they may not be "prized" possessions (because they aren't priceless), I do have things that I love. And if those things were lost or destroyed, I would be sad. But not devastated. I wish I could say this is because I'm simply noble that way....I've lost a lot in my life that can never be replaced, I clearly understand what's most important. While that is certainly true, it's not the reason I don't get attached to material items.

There are two (far less noble) reasons:

(1.) An incident that occurred when I was around 12. It involved my little brother, a very AWESOME Swatch watch (that most likely each of my parents had to sell a kidney in order to buy), and a garbage truck that came up the street before we realized where that very AWESOME Swatch watch was. That didn't end well. I learned to never become overly attached to things.

(2.) And the other reason...have I mentioned that I really do hate clutter?

Here are some possessions I don't necessarily "prize", but I do love:

See that last one? It's important. I need sleep. I am a beast without good sleep. My husband and I waited years for this perfectly wonderful, supremely comfortable, very big bed. It was a few years more before I bought the bedding, waiting until I could have what I wanted. (Still can't decide on a headboard, and I refuse to spend my cash until I find "the one".) I LOVE my bed. I do NOT love when children hop on my bed and wrestle around, mussing up my pillows. It's my bed. I waited a LONG time for this bed and longer for the bedding. So what happened when those three children began a high speed chase/wrestling match?

It ended with:

all of them piled on top of my bed
rolling around like pigs in mud
my yelling, "Don't trash my bed. How rude. If you wanna trash a bed, go trash your own bed."

My twelve year old son and six year old daughter laughed at me, shook their heads and went about their business. They respected the unspoken, "You shouldn't trash any beds at all, and all three of you know that!! I'm simply trying to make a point."

My nine year old son had other ideas. Having other ideas is not uncommon for him. With that boy, you've really gotta choose your words carefully. If you say something, you better mean it.
He even had the nerve to laughingly say, "Well it's your fault, you told me to do it." Yes, the flat sheet ended up under the bed and the skirt was completely crumpled underneath everything else. Did he care that he had to remake the bed he'd already made that morning? Of course not! Hope he doesn't consider his bed a "prized" possession, because I'm throwin' it out if he pulls that stunt again!

Heavy Heart

2010-09-30T12:45:00.004-04:00

September 29, a family friend paid the ultimate sacrifice while serving our country. Please keep this dear family in your thoughts and prayers. I love them and am deeply saddened by the tragic loss of Senior Airman Mark Forester.

Click to read Tribute to an American Hero - Mark Forester, beautifully written by one of Mark's best friends.

Dear Victoria,

2010-09-24T20:10:00.018-04:00

Tomorrow we celebrate your 14th birthday. It seems unreal that so many years have come and gone since your father & I held you. In the past, I felt I wasn't "handling" losing you as gracefully as other mothers handled stillbirth. Each mother walks a very individual path, and no one benefits from comparisons. But, over and over again I would wonder: is it because you were my first, because we returned to a silent home with no other children to hold, or because I was naive and Trisomy 18 had never crossed my mind, or possibly because I was only 23 years old and everything I had known and believed, up to that very moment in my life, was crumbling? What a blessing to finally understand that I have "handled" losing you exactly as your mother should. Not in the way anyone else would, but the very way I was meant to manage this life without you.

I want you to know that you have a little 6 year old sister keenly aware of your presence. She speaks of you often, and it never ceases to amaze me. One of my greatest fears was that this world would forget you. That because we never had the opportunity to share birthday parties and school photographs, no one would remember you. I believe, without a doubt, Chloe feels you close by her. At random times, she will ask me to take your box from the closet. She looks at your picture, reads the cards and letters we received during that time, holds your little hat and tiny dress. When I least expect it, she will begin talking about you and how she wishes you were here so she could play with you. Tonight she said, "It would be super fun if Victoria was here because it would be just the same as having another Cade, except Cade's only 12 and he's not a girl." It made us laugh. And I can not, will not, deny that in those moments, I am receiving a true gift from God...sweet confirmation that you will never be forgotten.

It is remarkable, all that I have learned from you. Of course, we both know that for several years I fought learning many of the lessons. Thankfully, I'm finished fighting and much more interested in putting the lessons to great use. Do you know that I never hesitate telling people I love them...even if it makes them squirm a little because they aren't open books, like me. And, have you noticed that I love to laugh? You were probably stunned by how hard-headed I was, by how long it took me to realize that I honor you most when I live my life to its fullest.

I have so many questions. It's hard being your mother and not knowing your favorite color, what your laugh sounds like, your favorite bedtime story, all the places in this world you would have liked to visit, your hopes and dreams. But I've become okay with not having all the answers. I don't understand most of what happens in this life, and I'm finally okay with that too. Because I believe in something far greater than the here and now.

Loving you always,

Mom

Promises

Remembering Victoria

Homecoming

2010-09-01T09:00:00.021-04:00

He is home. (Insert tremendous sigh of relief and a huge smile.) Actually, he's been home for almost 4 weeks. I've not been able to write about how I'm feeling until now. And even today, the thoughts refuse to flow fluidly. They are choppy, messy, scattered. Nine months. That is how much time, from my life with him, was taken from me. My husband spent the majority of his deployment in an unsafe, unsecured, remote area of Iraq. I'm unable to listen to many of his stories. Most of the ones I do hear are equal parts heartbreaking and infuriating. I can't begin to express my relief and gratitude that he has returned safely. The fact that many other families do not have such an outcome is never lost on me. That fact is always in my mind. And it is hard to bear. We only gave nine months, many others give and lose so much more.

War has made me cynical, and less capable of trusting those around me. My family suffered at the hands of others' self-serving interests, in ways I will never be able to freely discuss. When it comes to this world of ours, war has left me feeling cold and bitter. Therein lies the contradiction. One moment I feel cynicism gnawing...I am discouraged and overwhelmed with aggravation toward the people with whom I am forced to share this planet. A few moments later, I feel a softness in my heart that overcomes me. War granted me opportunities to see the very best in people. Experiences that have helped me love others more freely. Experiences that have left me ready to live fully, and enjoy my time on this Earth. My family felt the uplifting, strengthening power of prayer, our own as well as the prayers and "good vibes" of many others on our behalf. Selfish isn't it? The way I speak of how war has impacted my life?

What about him? For months, he lived in absolutely disgusting conditions, and rarely had a decent meal. The aid station, where he provided medical care for Americans & Iraqis, was hit. Mortar attacks were frequent, and robbed him of even one peaceful night's sleep. He was often conflicted, and left wondering why he was there. My husband longed to be home with us. It was hard for a man, who loves his family so dearly, to miss events such as his oldest son receiving the Priesthood. But he also missed things like taking the kids to school, Saturday chores, doing laundry...things that most of us find mundane, possibly even annoying. He has returned, a man closer to God. A man ready to live this life to the fullest. He has taught me much about forgiveness and patience. He has been blessed with an answer to the question that often dogged him. He knows, without doubt, why he went to Iraq. The answer is beautiful and has very little, if anything, to do with war. But everything to do with love, inner peace, and purpose.

What about our children? In two words: innocence lost. They lived months apart from their father, and it hurt. But, that separation has made them far more appreciative of the time they now have with him. They take very little of life "for granted". My children have learned the true meanings of gratitude and service, as well as gaining a clear understanding of what it means to sacrifice. They have had life lessons that stretch far beyond those most commonly learned by 12, 9, and 6 year old children. I have learned so much from them.

I thought I knew a lot about war. I thought I knew what to expect. I was prepared for many things, and unprepared for countless more. My eyes have been opened. I have witnessed the very best, and the very worst, in people. My appreciation, as well as admiration, of infantry soldiers and their families has grown immensely. I am eternally grateful for my husband's safety, words can not express how happy I am to have him back. At the same time, my heart aches for others.

Since his return, there have been several days when I've felt like a piece of taffy that's been left out in the sun. Over the past year, I've been pulled and stretched, rolled in a ball, pulled and stretched some more. And now, I'm melting. Melting back into life. A new life, a new normal.

What a cruel thing is war: to separate and destroy families and friends, and mar the purest joys and happiness God has granted us in this world; to fill our hearts with hatred instead of love for our neighbors, and to devastate the fair face of this beautiful world.

~Robert E. Lee, letter to his wife, 1864

Open Letter to Ms. Aniston

2010-08-19T11:53:00.018-04:00

Dear Ms. Aniston,

I understand you live in an alternate universe. I understand that inside that universe, there are only repercussions for things such as: using the N word, using the 3 letter F word to describe homosexuals, and being conservative. But I don't live in that bubble of yours. And outside of Hollywood? Here in the real world where we commoners live? Many of us don't appreciate your flippant use of the word retard. I was struck by how effortlessly it flowed from your mouth as you playfully bantered with your buddy Regis.

You may feel I'm being overly sensitive. Do you feel African-Americans are overly sensitive when they object to the N word? Do you feel homosexuals are overly sensitive when they object to derogatory terms used to describe them? I venture to say you would never consider letting nigger or fag slip from your botoxed lips. I'm guessing those words horrify you (as they should!). How about spic, jap, or chink? Again, horrifying! I'm guessing you would stand in line with all of your do-gooding, Hollywood pals to rip apart anyone who uses such language. But retard? Well, who really cares about the retards, right? Because you didn't mean anything by it, right? You were just joking around during an interview, right? I should lighten up, right? My deceased daughter, Victoria, would have been what you consider "a retard". So, no thank you Ms. Aniston, I will not lighten up. What I hope for is free speech coupled with common sense and compassion.

I value the freedom of speech we are afforded in this country. Do I want all of our words monitored, picked apart, placed under a microscope? Of course I don't! And that's not what I'm doing to your words. No picking apart, and I wasn't monitoring you. Simply had the tv on and heard you very clearly throw out "retard". I'm not sure why you would use such a term. Maybe because you are insensitive, callous, maybe you just haven't ever cared enough to consider that using the term "retard" could cause others pain? Possibly the word flowed freely because you don't think there will be repercussions. No powerful groups like the NAACP, GLAAD, or La Raza are going to come after you. This won't be splashed all over the news. Or, maybe it will be? If it is, you know you can simply issue an apology through your publicist. You'll visit a few special education classrooms. You'll flash that smile of yours and once again, all will be well in your alternate universe. I'm not buying it.

Before too long, you and your Hollywood people will decide you can make a "cause" out of this, you and your celebrity cronies will somehow find a way to make the free speech/compassion combo beneficial to you. Maybe you'll all come together for a prime-time special on tv, you'll take turns answering phones and prancing around on stage. You can share your stories of how you once used hurtful words, but now see the error of your ways. Maybe you could invite Mel Gibson and John Mayer. Maybe even the President...he did have that little slip up when referring to his bowling skills as being on the level of the Special Olympics. Fans will send in money for your cause. Some may even fall at the feet of Hollywood, praising you for saving the world from the ills of hurtful language. But there are thousands of us who have never, will never, fall at the feet of Hollywood. Shocking, isn't it? The fact that not everyone is enamored and awed by celebrities. The fact that there are people out here who already reject derogatory, ignorant speech...and we didn't even need a celebrity to enlighten us.

There are countless numbers here in the real world who already understand words can hurt. We know it isn't all that difficult to think before speaking, to rid our mouths and even minds of derogatory words. Words that pack punches so hard they can knock grown adults to their knees. We are capable of enjoying free speech, and adding compassion to that freedom. When you and those living in your alternate universe decide to preach on this topic, just know we won't be listening. We're way ahead of you on this one. We're way ahead of you on most things.

In the mean time, Ms. Aniston, you might want to check this out:

http://www.r-word.org/

You could probably learn a lot.

Alone...Not Always a Bad Place to Be

2010-08-11T12:46:00.002-04:00

Cheryl, thank you for sharing this.
Beautiful.

Let Freedom Ring

2010-07-03T10:25:00.015-04:00

"Those who expect to reap the blessings of freedom,

must undergo the fatigues of supporting it."

- Thomas Paine, The American Crisis, No. 4, September 11, 1777

(above picture: my sweetheart treating Iraqi civilian patients)

"It ought to be commemorated, as the Day of Deliverance by solemn Acts of Devotion to God Almighty. It ought to be solemnized with Pomp and Parade, with Games, Sports, Bells, Bonfires and Illuminations from one End of this Continent to the other from this Time forward forever more. You will think me transported with Enthusiasm but I am not. I am well aware of the Toil and Blood and Treasure, that it will cost Us to maintain this Declaration, and support and defend these States. Yet through all the Gloom I can see the Rays of ravishing Light and Glory.

I can see that the End is more than worth all the Means.

And that Posterity will tryumph in that Days Transaction."

- Letter from John Adams to Abigail Adams,

referring to the day the Declaration of Independence was signed

"Courage, then, my countrymen, our contest is not only whether we ourselves shall be free, but whether there shall be left to mankind an asylum on earth for civil and religious liberty."

-Samuel Adams, August, 1776

(above picture taken by my husband, while serving in Iraq)

"It cannot be emphasized too strongly or too often that this great nation was founded, not by religionists, but by Christians. Not on religions, but on the gospel of Jesus Christ. For this very reason, peoples of other faiths have been afforded asylum, prosperity, and freedom of worship here."

- Patrick Henry

Good Things to Come

2010-06-21T10:26:00.000-04:00

One Day

2010-06-20T09:28:00.027-04:00

To: Daddy

From: Chloe

I walk through the memoir aisle of the local bookstore and chuckle.

I think to myself, "If you only knew."

Everybody has a story. Bottom line, there are countless numbers of us who could

write a memoir powerful enough to knock readers' socks off.

Everybody has a story.

If I knew the right people, moved in their circles, and had a fantastic editor?

Ohhh, the story I could tell.

And one day, I will. When the time is right.

Most likely, it will never go further than this little spot right here.

And maybe you will be the only person reading.

I'll be just fine with that.

For now, I leave you with this:

I love my Snarky Dad; although, there isn't much that's snarky about him. That side only shows itself when he's joking around, teasing us. He teaches and leads by quiet example. He is kind and gentle, a shining example of putting others before self. Some of the things I love most about myself are things he taught me. He traded in every single one of his dreams. For me. You would be in awe if I told you. I'm 38 years old, I lived it....and I'm still amazed.

I love the man who let Snarky Dad give me a new life and raise me....the reasons why you did it don't matter. I choose to believe it was all for the sake of love. Things feel better that way. And I'm grateful for what we have now. I see things in myself that are you. Time and an open heart have shown me how to embrace every one of them.

When I was a child, the adults in my life were young, entirely too young. Huge decisions were made on my behalf. Twists, turns, and train wrecks too numerous to count. But I never doubted that I was loved...by every person involved. I was angry, confused, and sad at times. But, I was happy too. I knew all of these people would fight to the death for me, if it came down to it. And I've made peace with their decisions. Realized I have nothing to feel guilty about, especially the fact that I love them all. I have a big heart, and everybody's welcome. Whew, it was a long and bumpy road getting here. So glad I made it. I think it's all turned out remarkably well.

I love my husband, the father of my 4 beautiful children. I've been trying. Really trying. No words can describe it. Today, there are no words great enough to capture what my heart feels for him. I can only pray he knows.

Who Wants Mac & Cheese?

2010-06-04T13:02:00.002-04:00

Quite possibly my favorite commercial. Ever.

Just Tell the Truth

2010-06-03T11:05:00.004-04:00

I don't think there's much of anything left in this world that's truly "Fair and Balanced". I'm not naturally prone to trusting others. I have to consciously fight my inclination toward cynicism. I don't trust any media outlets, I don't believe we have reporters and journalists anymore. We have people propelled by an unquenchable thirst for "the next big story". CNN twists, FOX spins, ABC, NBC, and CBS cherry pick "reports" based on what agenda they support.

I don't want to contribute to the lack of fairness and balance in this world. Mostly I share opinions here in my spot. But today, I have to share a fact: President Barack Obama is not the first president to be somewhere other than Arlington National Cemetery on Memorial Day. This falsehood is all over the web, and being fueled by conservatives (either directly or simply by choosing not to diffuse the rumor). Here I could list the places past Presidents have spent Memorial Days, the different places they have gone to honor fallen soldiers. But, the teacher in me won't let me do it. (Similar to how I struggle with telling children how to spell a word...it's better for them to look it up themselves.)

Am I a fan of President Obama? Nope.

But you know I'm not a fan of any politician. Not one.

I'm not a fan of distorting facts to support opinions either. That mentality does nothing to improve the caustic tone running rampant in our country. Honesty really is the best policy. And there is far to little of that policy practiced today.

A New Perspective

2010-06-01T19:17:00.026-04:00

You may be surprised to learn that many of my cares and concerns, regarding this world of ours, are now Gone with the Wind. Recent events between Israel and the Gaza-bound flotilla, my husband's return to Iraq, and my acceptance of the disappointing reality that I, in fact, can not change the world brought on the winds of change.

I'm absolutely uninterested in any debates regarding Israel, Turkey, and Palestine. Actually, I'm uninterested in debating period. Mainly I just wanted to share how Turkey's Prime Minister played a tremendous role in my new perspective. He said this: "Psychologically this attack is like 9/11 for Turkey because Turkish citizens were attacked by a state, not by terrorists, with an intention, a clear decision of political leaders of that state."

Holy crap, what drug is he high on? First of all, his statement simply doesn't make any sense. Secondly, it speaks volumes as to just how blind a large part of the world chooses to be regarding the horrors of 9/11; how very little they care. Nine civilians were killed in this flotilla incident. Thousands of lives were taken on 9/11. Not to mention the far-reaching effects still felt to this day, almost nine years later. I'm not insinuating the nine lives lost are less important than any other life lost. But logically, the numbers nine and 2,973 are far from comparable. I'm sorry Mr. Prime Minister. The 9/11 attacks were planned for months, took place on our soil, involved four jets, and targeted innocent civilians. There is no similarity with your situation, that took place in international waters, between one ship (the other 5 had no incidents) and Israel. You say they attacked, they say they were acting in self-defense. There are many sides to the story. There is only side to 9/11. On that day, innocent Americans were simply going about their daily lives. Without provocation, our entire country was attacked and terrorized. The entire country of Turkey has not been attacked. Nothing about your current situation is, as you said, "like 9/11". Your statement is both absurd and screaming with ignorance. Proof that you have no idea how horrific 9/11 was, and you don't care either.

The remainder of my new perspective comes from the pain felt as I sit, once again, without my husband in this home. Where he belongs. I really wish I could be more noble, more patriotic. I don't know how to give any more than I am currently giving. I don't know how to love this country any more than I do. You know I'm nothing, if not honest. And I'm ready to be completely honest. I hate where he is, I hate that he has been sent there. I hate that the Commander-in-Chief doesn't care more. I hate every bit of it. And, I'm sorry it took a deployment to move me to this perspective. I understand this is what we signed up for, I just wish it made more sense. I can't give details or explanations, but trust me. So much of it makes no sense.
None. Whatsoever.

I'm pretty certain many of you will strongly disagree with my thoughts, but here goes. I want our country to take care of our own now. It's time. True, there are starving women and children in third world countries, but you can find starving people in your own town too. You can find homeless, downtrodden, desperate, exploited, and abused human beings in your city. For years I've imagined ways I can get myself to the war-torn Congo. I've imagined all the good I could do, all the children I could "save". Now I've decided I'll try to help here, in my small, insignificant Georgia town. I can't save the Congo and neither can you.

I've grown beyond weary of this country suffering because we have some Superman complex pushing us to get involved and "help" everyone else. Have you noticed this rarely gets us anywhere and garners little more than harsh criticism? Here I will add that yes, my husband has been greeted by grateful Iraqis. Of course it's heartwarming and touching. Yes, they can vote and attend school now. Some amazing things have happened there, but at what cost to our own country? At what cost to our fellow Americans?

I guess I'm realizing this great country of ours is a lot like parents enabling their drug-addicted children. There comes a time when you've done all you can do! A time when you just have to step back, let people make their choices, and suffer the consequences. We need to take care of the poor, hungry, abused, exploited, hopeless and helpless here in our country. My church gives tremendous amounts of global humanitarian aid. I love and support those efforts. But I've noticed, that aid is never given in a way that comes back to harm the church or its members. It is in no way an enabling parent. I want to help others. I don't support standing idly by as people suffer. But it's time for America to seriously reevaluate. Much of what we're doing really isn't working. I'm tired of this country harming itself, and its people, all in the name of helping others.

If you know me, you know I'm wholeheartedly in favor of protecting our country, defending this nation and preserving our liberty. That protection, defense and liberty should start right here, on our own soil. We can't save the world. We can't make nations agree to disagree, or choose to live peacefully. They've been fighting since time began, and they will continue in their attempts to destroy each other until time ends. I would just like to get our own country back on track, financially stable, with secure borders so we can protect ourselves. I would like to make certain America's children are well cared for, well educated, and protected before we set out to make life better for everyone else (something rarely appreciated because maybe they don't even want things to change)...leaving America behind in the process.

I'm not so naive anymore. And to the rest of the world I feel like saying...go ahead, fight, feud, disagree, whatever. But leave me out of it.

Because I'm beginning to feel a lot like Rhett!

"Frankly, my dear, I don't give a damn."

And I'm also feeling a lot like Scarlett.

"I can't think about that right now. If I do, I'll go crazy."

"I'll think about that tomorrow."

Maybe I will. Maybe I won't. I'm leaning toward the won't.

Can You Spare a Moment?

2010-05-29T12:03:00.020-04:00

The irony of "fighting" for peace never escapes me. I hate war. Those who thirst after power, and in doing so shed innocent blood, repulse me. But make no mistake. I will always stand and honor the men & women willing to sacrifice for others. Lydia Bixby lost 5 sons in the Civil War. When President Lincoln learned of the loss, he wrote her a letter expressing gratitude for the costly sacrifice that had been "laid upon the altar of Freedom". Throughout our nation's history, there have been countless men and women willing to give all. In hopes of securing our right to speak freely (even if that speech was against them),to worship as we choose, or to not worship at all. In hopes of guaranteeing future generations the opportunity of pursuing happiness. These men & women sacrificed their lives, placed everything upon the "altar of Freedom". The very least we can do is give one moment of our time. Remembrances such as these transcend politics.

"Let every nation know, whether it wishes us well or ill, that we shall pay any price, bear any burden, meet any hardship, support any friend,

oppose any foe to assure the survival

and the success of liberty." -President John F. Kennedy

"For four long years, much of Europe had been under a terrible shadow. Free nations had fallen, Jews cried out in the camps, millions cried out for liberation. Europe was enslaved, and the world prayed for its rescue. Here in Normandy the rescue began. Here the Allies stood and fought against tyranny in a giant undertaking unparalleled in human history. Today, as 40 years ago, our armies are here for only one purpose — to protect and defend democracy. The only territories we hold are memorials like this one and graveyards where our heroes rest. We in America have learned bitter lessons from two World Wars: It is better to be here ready to protect the peace than to take blind shelter across the sea, rushing to respond only after freedom is lost. We’ve learned that isolationism never was and never will be an acceptable response to tyrannical governments with an expansionist intent. But we try always to be prepared for peace; prepared to deter aggression; prepared to negotiate the reduction of arms; and, yes, prepared to reach out again in the spirit of reconciliation. In truth, there is no reconciliation we would welcome more than a reconciliation with the Soviet Union, so, together, we can lessen the risks of war, now and forever."

- President Ronald Reagan, 1984

"They are not dead who live in lives they leave behind.

In those whom they have blessed, they live a life again." -Eleanor Roosevelt

From www.remember.gov (White House Commission on Remembrance):

The National Moment of Remembrance asks Americans wherever they are at 3 p.m., local time, on Memorial Day to pause (for 60 seconds) in an act of national unity.The time 3 p.m. was chosen because it is the time when most Americans are enjoying their freedoms on the national holiday. The Moment does not replace traditional Memorial Day events; rather it is an act of national unity in which all Americans, alone or with family and friends, honor those who died for our freedom. It will help to reclaim Memorial Day as the sacred and noble holiday it was meant to be. In this shared remembrance, we connect as Americans.

The idea for the Moment was born when children touring the Nation’s Capital were asked what Memorial Day means. They responded, “That’s the day the pool opens.” A Gallup Poll revealed that only 28% of Americans know the meaning of this noble holiday.

The Moment provides a time of Remembrance for

America

’s fallen and to make a commitment to give something back to our country in their memory.To have Americans participate in an act of national unity and demonstrate gratitude and respect for those who died for freedom since the founding of our Nation. To provide a sense of history to our citizens and ensure that younger generations understand the sacrifices made to preserve our liberties.

Helping People Help Themselves

2010-05-21T20:00:00.003-04:00

"I feel that I can do anything." I was touched by the joy she finds in simple things I take for granted, or even dislike (laundry). I'm going to do better.

I've Sunk to the Level of Spewing...and it is not pretty

2010-05-20T18:29:00.009-04:00

My husband is home from the sand pit of hell for exactly 2 weeks. That's all, 2 measly weeks. And I'm trying to "enjoy every minute", "cherish this time" we've been given...etc, etc.

I'm intentionally staying away from news channels and anything that distracts from the warm, fuzzy, happy-happy-joy-joy moments we should be having. And, for the most part, it's working! Or I should say, it was working. Until this afternoon. Until I was directed to this story that has to be shared.

And now I feel sick. Just plain ill. I'm sure my level of disgust is taken to an entirely different level altogether because my husband, and so many others, have taken an oath. An oath that calls them to lay their very lives on the line, if necessary, so that others can speak freely and protest. But this is taking those rights entirely too far! COMPLETE IDIOTS terrorizing A CHILD...A CHILD so scared he has to HIDE in his OWN HOME, the one spot that should be his safe place! The pathetic wastes of skin who pulled that stunt DO NOT deserve the sacrifices of honorable men and women. Yes, I am yelling. This is NOT about politics. This is not about standing for what you believe in and protesting peacefully. They could have done that outside a bank or an office building. This is about CHILDREN and their right to feel safe inside their homes!!

No arrests were made because officials were worried that might "incite" the crowd. There were some in the mob who actually followed the man into his home as he was trying to reach his scared son.

Where in the hell was the mainstream media on this one?!? OHHHH, let me guess...covering those lunatics at the Tea Parties! Covering the president of Mexico chastising America on the floor of Congress...covering his condescending remarks, but never asking him to share what exactly his people do to those entering his country illegally. Interesting.

In case you're wondering, spewing does make a girl feel better. A nice release so she can go and "enjoy every minute"; otherwise, the girl would sit all night and worry about the kid who was terrified, hiding in the bathroom of his home.

I Am That Mother

2010-05-07T08:59:00.015-04:00

First of all, it's ridiculously overdone. Secondly and more importantly, I worry that I might make things harder for women I truly love, women who find the day to be bittersweet or even unbearably painful. Those are the reasons I didn't write about Mother's Day last year, and why I almost didn't write about it this year. Then, Jen threw out the challenge. Feeling as though I had valid reasons for not accepting the challenge, I began looking forward to reading what others would have to say. Obviously, I changed my mind. Jen's good at making me think. And as I thought, I found some things to say. (Don't I always?)

Often I've heard people describe their mothers as having "the voice of an angel". To be honest, this description unfailingly causes me to hang my head in shame, to quickly recall the countless times I have yelled at my children. I've always found the phrase "the voice of an angel" to be relentless in its torment. A tsunami of guilt enveloping me, as I look around, only to see others smiling, nodding in agreement. Apparently, their mothers also spoke with this angel voice. Holy crap, am I the only mother on the planet who speaks with a voice that holds NO resemblance to that of an angel? I must be. I am that mother.

Unless that mother tells her children many times a day how she loves them. Not just that she loves them, but exactly how and what she loves about them. Unless that mother laughs as she rolls around on the floor, tickling and wrestling her children. Unless that mother carefully chooses her words (even if they are spoken loudly), so as never to harm the fragile and developing egos of the young souls under her care. Unless that mother quickly and humbly speaks the words "I'm sorry" when she knows she has not been on her best behavior. Unless that mother is whispering the words "it will be okay" into the ear of a sad, lonely, hurt, or ailing child. Unless that mother is teaching, reading or singing to her children.

I've realized "the voice of an angel" has many different sounds. There are times I yell. Loudly. I wish there weren't. There are times I am too quick to speak in frustration or anger. I wish there weren't. And if that is the only stick by which "the voice of an angel" is determined, I am certain I don't measure up. But if I consider the times I use my voice to encourage, praise, love and adore my children? Well, I am that mother.

I believe I've had the blessing of learning from one of the greats. My Snarky Mama started on her journey of motherhood at the entirely too young age of 16. That's right, 16. I don't really know how she did it, and I'm pretty sure there have to be times she wonders the same. I know every single odd out there was stacked firmly against her. She was that mother. She yelled, she spoke in frustration many times. But overwhelmingly, she spoke love. She never hesitated telling me that I could do anything in this world I wanted to do...even if deep down, she knew I couldn't. She let me learn that on my own. She never took one dream from me because she knew that eventually, the world would. That's just the way this life works, and we have to learn to live it. She says things like: "What if this is the best it ever gets, what if right now you are living the best you will ever get? What are your choices, you live it or you don't. Giving up isn't an option, living is the only option."

She taught me I should never hold back praise for others. Do you think someone is smart, funny, kind? Tell them! Do you think someone is beautiful, has cool hair, or you love their shoes? Tell them! Because you may be the ONLY person who does. She taught me that acknowledging others' gifts, talents, beauty, or intelligence doesn't diminish your own. In fact, it does the opposite.

She taught me loyalty. You fight to the death for those you love, and ask questions later. Family is first. Plain and simple. And even though she yelled at times, my siblings and I were not allowed to yell. There was no name-calling, no fighting. We didn't always agree, and there was the one time my brothers were teenagers and decided to get pushy-shovey (something about a door coming off its hinges)...but that's my point...it happened so rarely, I can actually remember the one time. My mother was adamant about how the sibling relationship should go, and that is one of the greatest gifts she's given me. We were taught siblings are more important than any friends we would ever meet. Everyone that knows us finds the relationship my brothers and I share to be remarkable. I am trying to pass this on to my children.

She taught me to stand for what I believe, alone if necessary, and never be afraid of the punches people will throw. At least you're fighting the good fight.

She continues encouraging me to be comfortable in my own contradictions. It's how I came up with the term "Snarky Belle"....it's who I am. People rile me up and aggravate the snot out of me. At the same time my heart hurts, and you can find me in my closet weeping because I feel others' pain so deeply. I'm intolerant of intolerant people, judgemental of judgemental people. I call people out on dishonesty and rudeness, but I'll be first in line to offer thanks for kindness or provide words of encouragement. It takes a special woman to raise a contradiction...thank you Snarky Mama.

She taught me it's unacceptable to judge other mothers. I don't care if you have ten children, one child, or one who is not with you on this Earth. In my eyes you are a mother. I don't believe you score more points for each child you bring into this world....because mothering is not a game. I don't care if your children came to you through C-section, with pain meds, without pain meds, or thanks to a mother loving unselfishly enough to let her child become your child.

I don't care if you nursed, didn't nurse, if your kids eat organic fruit or if their only fruit source comes in strawberry pop-tart form. Because it's not my place. Because I will choose to believe that as mothers, we're just trying to do our very best. And we all have times of feeling that we're failing miserably. I won't be the one who adds to that feeling of failure. I won't be the one making you feel less than because you "only have" one or two children, and I won't stare at you as if you're a circus show because you have 15 kids. Instead I'll be the one cheering you on, with a big fat grin on my face, reminding you that you can do this.

I have an infinite number of flaws and weaknesses. But, I love BIG. I will never stop loving big and sharing that with my children. I will praise, discipline, encourage, teach, joke and laugh with them. And if those words come from my mouth, along with the occasional yells, or unfortunate cuss words? Well then, my children will also one day be able to stand and say: "My mother spoke with the voice of an angel."

A Break in the Clouds

2010-05-04T19:11:00.003-04:00

"Do not always resort to the thought of coincidence,

there were many angels working diligently for it."

~Author Unknown

Apparently I'm Predictable

2010-05-03T14:15:00.007-04:00

Eight Year Old: "I'm usually not so excited to get back to school on Monday."

Me: "Why are you already looking forward to Monday, it's Saturday afternoon."

Eight Year Old: "Remember that cute girl I told you about? I get to sit by her in the program because we're two of the tallest kids. Monday we're gonna practice for our program. And I think I'll wear the new shirt you bought me on Tuesday."

Me: "Tuesday, why not Monday?"

Eight Year Old (complete with eyes rolling, head shaking, and a slightly condescending chuckle): "Mom. You can't be for real. That is sooooo predictable. Every kid that gets a new shirt on Saturday wears the shirt to school on Monday. I'm not that kid. So, I'll wait and wear my shirt Tuesday. That's how I like to do things."

I don't love this child any more than I love the others. Promise. It's his material. Twelve Year Old is funny too, when he's making his iMovies and acting out entire movie scenes. It's a different kind of humor. And Six Year Old (because she informed me she's "too grown for the nickname Princie")? Well she makes us laugh also, but in the same way that every kid on the planet makes his/her parents laugh. But Eight Year Old is witty, without ever trying to be. And he's anything but predictable.

-----------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

On a different note, my Snarky Mama had some things to say about illegal immigration. Snippets of what she wrote:

Do not preach to me about ancestry, predecessors, family immigrants. My grandfather dropped out of school in the 3rd grade. He could barely read, he could hardly write, he was pulled out of a field at 16 years old to be a "sparring partner" for boxers and wrestlers. He had worked in those fields 12-14 hours a day for one dollar a day...a dollar.
He was not angry, he was not bitter. He knew if his children did not want to do virtually the same, they had to change the course and direction of their lives. His son, my father, worked 3 jobs while going to medical school with 4 children, one who was critically ill and spent most of his childhood hospitalized. My father EARNED the "American Dream." He is the last of a dying generation, people who knew what "Let Freedom Ring" means.

I will be the first to say there was a time in this country that the color of your skin was demonized and many, many innocent people suffered at the hands of those who ignored "and justice for all." That was a time of shame for us all. We have learned and we have grown, no one can deny that...there is evidence of that growth all around.

The operative word is "illegal." I do not want words like "illegal" watered down. I want those who are sworn to uphold the law to do so with integrity. I want the country that was preserved to thrive...I want my "America" back...if you do not want to follow the rules to be here and you want to be rewarded because you "showed up"...I will be damned before I say that is o.k.. Far too many lives were lost and too high a price has been paid for this piece of land to be cheapened. Come with the willingness to stand beside me, regardless of MY skin color, and fight WITH me to preserve this land, [come with] DESIRE to obey the law and do so with respect for OUR flag, OUR forefathers, OUR language, OUR freedom. That's right...YOU, ME should EQUAL "OURS"...ONE NATION assimilated together with a rainbow of colors standing side by side to keep this the greatest nation on earth! If you are not willing to do that, do not come at all.

Thanks Are in Order

2010-05-01T01:00:00.004-04:00

Dear Mother Nature,

Thank you for doing your job.

I'm sure it hasn't been easy on you...what with getting dumped and all.

Needless to say, your recent upturn in mood is sincerely appreciated.

I thank you.

The children thank you.

Even my girl's feet thank you.

And did you know Lantana plants are my favorite?

Imagine how excited I was when I found this Lantana TREE!

Another favorite?

Sitting in my rocker waiting for the kids to get home from school.

Happy days are here!

Thank you Mother Nature.

Anybody Got My Back?

2010-04-30T12:15:00.012-04:00

*Disclaimer: I am feeling exceptionally snarky and politically INcorrect today. If you are allergic to, or have even slight sensitivity to either of those, I suggest you step away from the computer screen. Consider yourself warned. And if you cuss at me, threaten me, or just simply annoy me...I won't post your comment. If you're coming here from Facebook, don't leave anything nasty there either. No need. You won't change my mind, and we won't be friends.

Well it happened. And I'm not happy about it. I was profiled today. Yep, that's right. I was targeted because I am obviously of European descent. I have white skin, green eyes, and I speak fluent English. Can you believe this? I'm an official victim of racial profiling.

I had to get a new driver's license.

For this to take place, I was told to provide the following:

-current driver's license from my prior state of residence

-birth certificate (with a watermark..NO photocopies allowed)

-original marriage license because obviously my married name doesn't match my birth certificate

-a utility bill dated within the past 30 days

-Social Security card

PROFILING! And it doesn't matter if you think the DMV is justified in requiring so many documents. It doesn't matter if you don't think I was profiled. Because I say I was! And it made me feel less than, as if no one inherently trusts me. And that hurts people, it just hurts. I'm pretty sure the African-American lady who held the fate of my driving in her hands, as she pondered over my stack of documents, was a racist. She must be! The nerve of her, asking me to prove my identity. It's a driver's license, and I'm entitled to it! After all, this is America!

Too bad I'm not Latina/Hispanic in Arizona. I wouldn't have to prove who I am or from where I originated. Sucks to be me, white girl of European descent, just trying to get a driver's license. I was surprised I didn't have to give a DNA sample.

If I were in Arizona, I could have skipped across the unsecured border, and made my home here ILLEGALLY (that's key word). All the while law-abiding taxpayers of EVERY RACE (including my own) could pay my way. My food, housing, healthcare, everything provided for me because I think it should be and you wouldn't be able to tell me no. If you are opposed to ILLEGAL immigration, that means you hate all immigrants and you're ethnocentric! And if a cop even breaths air in a way I find offensive, I could just call Shakira (because well, she's a classy lady who cares about my country...my country meaning Mexico), or La Raza, or the ACLU.

And hell hath no fury like what I would unleash if some cop, who pulled me over for speeding/wreckless driving, etc., dared ask for my identification. Because I would have rights, you know?! I would be an illegal immigrant. I would be entitled. Why? Because I said so. And when my grandmother looked me in the eyes to tell her story of coming to this country legally...well, I could just laugh. Silly grandmother. Rules? Order? Respect for those who came before me? That's so old school. Lame.

But alas, I am a white girl. So I have to prove my identity to get a driver's license, or enroll my kids in school, or fly on an airplane, or pay for something with my own damn credit card. Plain and simple folks, I'm profiled on a daily basis. But I've decided it hurts. I don't like it. And who's got my back? Who's coming to stand up for the white girl of European descent. That's right. NOBODY!

I Say Booooo to Mean People

2010-04-29T09:00:00.007-04:00

I've said it before, and I'll say it again. It's one thing to write on YOUR blog about YOUR opinions. It's an entirely different animal altogether when you VISIT someone else's blog and get mean! There's just no need. My blog, and those that I read, are not forums for debate. They are places for sharing. We aren't attempting to persuade you to believe as we do. We are simply sharing our own information. I'll never understand why people would waste their time leaving malicious, disrespectful comments. And I venture to say such behavior is highly ineffectual in swaying the opinions of the blogger you're attacking. Most likely the blogger is writing to his/her audience, never even giving you a thought as he/she develops a post. It's probable the blogger didn't even know you were here for the show. And if it gets really ugly? Well, hopefully security will escort you back to your spot under the bridge....you sad, sad, empty little troll.

Assumptions

2010-04-27T14:38:00.011-04:00

Someone once told me: "Never assume...Because when you assume, you make an "ass" out of "u" and "me". I've been thinking a lot about assumptions. I've come to the conclusion that assumptions aren't my favorite. Maybe because they're a lot like judgements made by the self-righteous. Frequently, they come without any thoughtful, intelligent reasoning. Rarely does giving someone the benefit of the doubt factor into an assumption.

Before I get started, two things:

-don't assume I'm a Republican, because I'm not

-don't assume I'm a staunch right winging conservative, because I'm not

Recently I have watched the left-leaning media relentlessly vilify and mock those attending Tea Party rallies. The following is just a small sampling of the assumptions made about these people: they are all racist, greatly lacking oral hygiene, uneducated, ready to shoot and kill, stupid, ignorant, backwards, Timothy Mcveighs lying in wait...I could go on & on. I'll be the first to admit that in crowds of 100s or 1000s, it's highly possible (likely even) that you will find a person matching those descriptions. But I also believe the majority of those attending Tea Parties do not fit such disgusting profiles.

All of this leads me to a few questions. Why is it perfectly acceptable for the far left movement to assume things about Americans who, by and large, are just simply refusing to be sheeple? Why does the left bark and foam at the mouth over "profiling"...unless, of course, they are the ones doing the profiling? Why is it acceptable to demonize and make assumptions about those who are standing, peacefully in most cases (granted there are a few nut jobs to be found everywhere...on both sides of the aisle), for what they believe?

I remember when Bush was president (and let me remind you, I am no Bush fan), liberals screamed: "Dissent is the highest form of patriotism." Now that the tables have turned, if you show any form of dissent, it is quickly assumed you are racist, a homegrown terror suspect, or just plain stupid. It is also assumed that you are a Sarah Palin fan....may I remind you she most certainly does NOT speak for me, I am not a fan. In fact, don't assume anyone speaks for me (even the Tea Party people). I can't find a darn person out there right now who in any way, shape or form represents me.

Next question. Why the obsessive focus on conservatives? Even Bill Clinton felt the need to run his mouth. He said we need to be careful with our words and consider how our words are taken by others. He insinuated that if some violence occurs, it will be the fault of those who are speaking out. Riiiiight. Because people can't be held responsible for their own actions. If some whack job commits an act of violence it certainly isn't his/her fault, but rather the blame would be at the feet of the Tea Partiers. I understand Bill...surely no one is surprised that a man who spent his time in the Oval Office being serviced by an intern would promote lack of personal responsibility. This is just another attempt at silencing those who are simply practicing what they heard from liberals for so many years: "Dissent is the highest form of patriotism." Apparently this only holds true if you are a liberal Democrat.

I am wondering why we aren't concerned with the radical Islam movement taking place right under our noses. I have never been a fan of the show "South Park", so I do something very crazy....instead of being offended, I change the channel. *gasp* I know! It's a far out, wacky idea. But yes, I actually choose not to watch rather than get my panties in a wad. The creators of that show are equal opportunity offenders. Why is it ok that they mock Jesus Christ, the Pope, atheists, and every culture known to man, but when they delve into anything Muslim related, they are targeted with death threats by an extremist group. No one steps up for the creators, instead their show is censored...something that has never happened before, in all their years of equal opportunity offending. I'm wondering why there is such a focus on the supposed evil of Tea Parties. All the while a man in New York, who heads up this extremist group, says 9/11 was deserved and there is more to come. But ohhhh no, don't make any assumptions about him. Save all your assumptions for the Tea Partiers, because one or two of them might yell a racial slur. One or two of them might be missing some front teeth. Wonder why Billy Boy isn't concerned about the words of this man in New York? Wonder why Billy Boy isn't rushing to chastise this man and tell him how careful he must be with his words?

And why is it that those opposed to the new law in Arizona assume police will profile? Why not assume they will do their jobs with integrity. Those who believe anyone can come to this country illegally and the rest of us should pay for it, those people are assuming all police are racist bigots who hate immigrants. You quickly assume the police are looking for opportunities to bully people, but you don't want the police to assume someone is here illegally. All profiling and assumptions are on your terms. It's clear as mud to me.

You make assumptions all day long, but you are rabidly opposed to anyone else doing the same. That's the bottom line. So just keep your assumptions to yourself. You can make an "ass" out of "u" all day long, but leave "me" out of it.
Thank you very much.

People Make Me Laugh

2010-03-27T19:25:00.003-04:00

Excerpt taken from an email I recently received:
"I started reading your blog. Wow, you're very snarky."

Really Einstein?
Soooo...what gave me away?

This just never gets old.

Why Spring Hasn't Sprung

2010-03-21T10:30:00.006-04:00

Me: "Enough! I've had it with this weather. What's with all the gloomy? I need Spring. Warm sunshine. Blue skies. It's time for something other than chilly, rainy gloom. Seriously, what's the deal?"

Eight Year Old: "Hmmmmm, could be that Mother Nature's boyfriend broke up with her through a text message. Maybe she just couldn't take it. Cut her some slack Mom."

Mother Nature, listen up! It's time to put your big girl panties on and deal with it. I'm sure he wasn't good enough for you anyway, you can do better, he was a jerk....blah, blah, blah...come on girl. We need you at the top of your game. It would be greatly appreciated.

Easy Does It

2010-03-03T19:19:00.003-05:00

A thought crossed my mind...

"Maybe I'm ready to go back to my spot."

For the first time since November, I peeked at my dashboard.

I had to click off the page.

My cheeks literally felt fiery heat.

I began to breathe heavily.

I'm so far behind on all of your events, news, etc.

I'll never be able to catch up, and that made me feel panicky.

So, I'm not really sure if I'm ready.

Easy does it girl, easy does it.

Thoughts on Sir Isaac's Laws

2009-11-12T07:09:00.025-05:00

Science has always fascinated me. Unfortunately, I wasn't smart enough to pursue a degree in Chemistry or Physics. I did end up with a minor in Biology, and my favorite times as a teacher always revolved around 5th grade Science classes. 5th grade allows us one of our last opportunities to keep things simple. Break things down, make them easier to comprehend.

I often wish I could turn off the thoughts in my mind. I practice every day. Some times I succeed, other times not so much. Veterans Day coming on the heels of the Ft. Hood tragedy has kept my mind busy. Yesterday, Sir Isaac Newton and his Laws of Motion came to mind. Ok, maybe not so much the 2nd law (because come on now, that 2nd one is not so easily simplified) but definitely numbers 1 and 3. Newton's first and third Laws of Motion are relatively easy to break down and comprehend. I'm guessing he probably didn't intend for his Laws of Motion to mill around in the mind of a woman who thinks too much. But, that's exactly what happened.

Newton's First Law:

A body persists in a state of rest or of uniform motion unless acted upon by an external force.
I have sincere hope the events at Ft. Hood will serve as a force that changes the state of rest and uniform motion currently found within our country. As things are now, FBI officials conducting background checks for firearms are banned (by federal law) from sharing information about gun purchases with other departments...departments such as those dedicated to counteract terrorism. What?!? That's a problem.

In addition, the Army's uniform motion is most often a textbook case of "damned if you do, and damned if you don't". There were signs, clear signs, that the perpetrator was a threat. Complaints against this man were made by patients, parents of patients, and co-workers. He was simply waiting for opportunity to inflict his poison.

The Army would've been "damned because they did". Had the Army vigorously addressed the complaints, and taken action, what would your reaction have been? Chances are if you've laid blame for this merciless attack at the feet of the Army, you would've been just as quick to attack them for being anti-Muslim had they more assertively addressed the concerns. Thank you PC Police of the world. Apparently you've effectively tied the hands of many Army officials. Because of your tireless efforts, my husband and millions of others are now less safe. Because of you, one man was allowed to inflict his extremist wrath on innocent individuals...not only those who were physically harmed, but also their children, families, and an entire community. An extremist, a man who did not practice the religion he claimed but rather his twisted view of it, walked among us because the Army feared condemnation and accusations of prejudice. Thank you so much, PC Police of the world, for your compassion and concern.

The Army is now being "damned because they didn't" by many people. Let me be crystal clear: I fully believe something should have been done to prevent this. I am sick that such vile behavior was flaunted. And even with that flaunting, the behavior was shoved under the rug. But I will never "damn" anyone or anything. And, if the Army had taken action against this man, I certainly wouldn't have condemned them for being anti-Muslim, or anti anything for that matter. I would've been thankful for their courage in taking a stand against those whose only purpose in life is to destroy us, to frighten and do harm. The Army can no longer allow fear of "anti" labels to get in the way of protecting innocent soldiers and civilian employees.

I have a sincere, snark-free question: Why do we refuse holding individuals accountable for their actions...when those actions are monumental, horrific and in relation to this country? No, for some reason we choose to blame those type actions on everyone but the perpetrator. It baffles me because I (thankfully) don't see this level of acceptance and lack of accountability when acts of horror are exacted upon abused children or battered women. We want accountability for those actions, and rightfully so. But I have to wonder, what exactly do you think the children, wives, loved ones, and friends of the Ft. Hood victims feel? I'm guessing abused and battered might make the list.

We don't mind assigning blame when the actions of others are far less destructive. Someone cuts you off in traffic...your blood boils. A co-worker annoys you...you're angered by the behavior. A well-meaning stranger, a family member or friend uses the wrong words when you are facing pain and sorrow...you're infuriated, you want to tell them how stupid and insensitive they are. Why are we so quick to think and feel the worst about decent people who cross our paths, our family members, and friends when they make mistakes? Or when they innocently choose the wrong words because they honestly have no idea what to say. We aren't too concerned with hurting the feelings of those we perceive have mistreated us. Too often we rush to put them in their place, or maybe we bitterly sulk, basking in our aggravation and anger.

But, an act of terror? We move around it, as if not calling it out somehow makes it nonexistent. It doesn't matter if you want to call it out or not, it happened. Terror? Oh no, we can't call it what it is. We might hurt someone's feelings. Frankly, I'm far more concerned with the hurt feelings of those who are suffering. Did the actions at Ft. Hood cause intense fear and anxiety? Because that's the definition of terror. How do you think 21 year old Francheska Velez felt in those moments? She had just recently returned from Iraq. She was pregnant, and her unborn child isn't even included in the number of casualties. Do not tell me the act at Ft. Hood was not one of terror. What must she have been feeling, this young woman carrying her child, during those moments? How about taking a little more time to consider people like Francheska, and her child?

Newton's Third Law:

To every action there is an equal and opposite reaction.
The tragedy of Ft. Hood triggered an opposite reaction. In place of the cowardice shown by one man, we have seen the bravery and courage of countless others. In place of brutality and terror, we see expressions of sincere kindness and love.

Yesterday, all over this country, we stood together. People of every make and model, every religion, and people from all walks of life. We stood together, honoring those who have served and those who serve today. We sent a message to people like the Ft. Hood perpetrator. No matter the horror that you spread, we will be there with an opposite reaction. Count on it. And, our reaction will be just as merciful as your action was hateful. Our reaction will be just as peaceful as your action was violent. I felt blessed as I stood in a gymnasium packed with middle schoolers, teachers, Veterans, and their family members. There was a moment of silence offered for the community of Ft. Hood. I admit, given this was a middle school program, I was brought to tears as I looked at the faces of the children in that gym. They were so respectful, so full of sincerity. And, you could have heard a pin drop...literally. This behavior was displayed by the students throughout the entire hour long program. There is so much injustice, so much we can find wrong in this world. But, there is even more that is just, much more that is good. I was surrounded by goodness yesterday. I felt a renewed sense of hope.

I was especially touched by a father (a Vietnam veteran) and son (a veteran of the Iraq war) in attendance. The father spoke of his service during the Vietnam War. He said he rarely revisits that war, neither in his mind nor with his words. There is too much pain. The only story he told was of returning home, and his first stop was a California airport. He had to change out of his uniform before walking through the airport because of protesters waiting to cause pain and malign the service members. He told us his pain was finally healed as he watched our country's treatment of his son, and other soldiers. An equal and opposite reaction. As poorly as he was treated, the countless backs that turned on him...his son has received that much, if not more, support. He expressed gratitude that "our country has turned around on that one." I couldn't agree more.

External forces acting and, in doing so, bringing about change. Actions resulting in equal and opposite reactions. Sir Isaac's Laws of Motion are present, both inside and outside the science classroom.

11-11-2009

2009-11-11T01:31:00.002-05:00

Today, and every day, I remember. My sincere gratitude is extended to those who have sacrificed so much, expecting so little in return. Thank you!

As we express our gratitude, we must never forget that the highest appreciation is not to utter words, but to live by them.
President John Fitzgerald Kennedy

I dream of giving birth to a child who will ask, "Mother, what was war?"
Eve Merriam

Their life's work is our security and the freedom that we too often take for granted. Every evening that the sun sets on a tranquil town; every dawn that a flag is unfurled; every moment that an American enjoys life, liberty and the pursuit of happiness -- that is their legacy.
President Obama speaking at Ft. Hood Memorial Service

I remember. Always.

Heavy Heart

2009-11-06T06:56:00.002-05:00

Today my thoughts and prayers remain with the families, friends, and loved ones of 13 who lost their lives and 30 wounded at the hands of calculated and deliberate violence. My heart goes out to the entire Ft. Hood community. I feel a deep sense of gratitude and respect for all those who responded quickly, without hesitation or thought for self, in the midst of such horror. Those responses most certainly kept the violence from becoming more widespread. I am in awe of unarmed soldiers who bravely took action, and in doing so saved many lives. Today I have a heavy heart. I am praying for the children who live in the Ft. Hood community. The children whose innocence has been wantonly stolen with vicious anger and cruelty. I pray all those facing this tragedy may somehow feel lifted, loved, and comforted.

Confessions on a Sunday

2009-11-01T21:18:00.017-05:00

Last week in Target, I needed assistance...it was obvious. Nothing major, I had simply misplaced my car keys. Two women walked past, looked at me, then turned away...pretending not to notice. It wasn't a big deal. I understand people are busy, and it was just car keys. I was appreciative when a lovely young lady walked up and asked if she could help. She was tattooed up one arm, down the other, and everywhere in between. She had streaks of bright green all throughout her jet black hair. Oh, and she had a nose ring too. As the young lady walked away, Princie said, "Mommy, she is so beautiful."
"Yes," I replied, "she certainly is so beautiful."

I know there are people who would snub the beautiful young lady who saved my day. There are those who would criticize me for encouraging Princie's opinion that this stranger was beautiful. You wonder what I'm teaching my daughter, how I'll feel if she's 17 and gets a tattoo. You think I should have responded to Princie's remark with something along the lines of: "Well yes dear, her helping us was beautiful, but she certainly wasn't dressed appropriately, and you know we shouldn't have tattoos. She acted beautifully, but we don't like those piercings." I confess. If you are one of those people, I judge you. You irritate me. I may even like or love you tons, but you irritate me. Yes, I clearly understand where our church stands. I also understand that most importantly, we are not to recognize a tattoo or nose ring. First and foremost, we are to recognize that the worth of souls is great.

I confess. I judge judgemental people. I'm highly critical of people who criticize others. I'm unbelievably aggravated by people who feel they are superior because of their religion or spirituality. I'm beyond annoyed by those who are so caught up in the letter of the law, they miss the boat completely when it comes to following the spirit of the law. And, I feel kinda bad about it. I'm going to work on this issue of mine. Because my behavior isn't helpful. And as I mentioned to a friend, I don't want to simply "tolerate" people. I want to find commonalities. I want to love those who are hard for me to love...the judgemental, holier-than-thou, critical, self-righteous...they are hard for me to love, but I desire to love them and I should. I want to fulfill God-given responsibilities that were placed upon me many years ago...that I "shall not look upon the faults of mankind nor judge anyone", and that I "shall see in fellow beings that which is beautiful and pure".

Now don't get too excited. No matter what I do, or how hard I try, the snark can not be removed from me. Seriously, a girl can only handle so much. And there are times when OH. MY. GOSH., a person had better take a stand! But, the following article reminded me that I want no part in the rampant decline of civility in our societies. (I must admit I was thrilled to see that "rigorous debate" gets a green light....as long as it remains "rancor" free.)

SALT LAKE CITY 16 October 2009 http://newsroom.lds.org/ldsnewsroom/eng/commentary/the-mormon-ethic-of-civility
The political world is astir. Economies are faltering. Public trust is waning. Individuals feel vulnerable. And social cohesion wears thin. Meanwhile, stories of rage and agitation fill our airwaves, streets and town halls. Where are the voices of balance and moderation in these extreme times? During a recent address given in an interfaith setting, Church President Thomas S. Monson declared: "When a spirit of goodwill prompts our thinking and when united effort goes to work on a common problem, the results can be most gratifying." Further, former Church President Gordon B. Hinckley once said that living “together in communities with respect and concern one for another” is “the hallmark of civilization.” That hallmark is under increasing threat.

So many of the habits and conventions of modern culture — ubiquitous media, anonymous and unsourced online participation, politicization of the routine, fractured community and family life — undermine the virtues and manners that make peaceful coexistence in a pluralist society possible. The fabric of civil society tears when stretched thin by its extremities. Civility, then, becomes the measure of our collective and individual character as citizens of a democracy.

A healthy democracy maintains equilibrium through diverse means, including a patchwork of competing interests and an effective system of governmental checks. Nevertheless, this order ultimately relies on the integrity of the people. Speaking at general conference, a semiannual worldwide gathering of the Church, Elder D. Todd Christofferson of the Quorum of the Twelve Apostles asserted: “In the end, it is only an internal moral compass in each individual that can effectively deal with the root causes as well as the symptoms of societal decay.” Likewise, Presiding Bishop H. David Burton emphasized that the virtues of fidelity, charity, generosity, humility and responsibility “form the foundation of a Christian life and are the outward manifestation of the inner man.” Thus, moral virtues blend into civic virtues. The seriousness of our common challenges calls for an equally serious engagement with reasonable ideas and solutions. What we need is rigorous debate, not rancorous altercations.

Civility is not only a matter of discourse. It is primarily a mode of engagement. The technological interconnectedness of society has made isolation impossible. Of all the institutions in the modern world, religion has had perhaps the greatest difficulty adjusting to the reality of give and take with the public. Today, and throughout its history, The Church of Jesus Christ of Latter-day Saints continuously encounters the legitimate interests of various stakeholders in its interaction with the public. Rather than exempting itself from the rules of law and civility, the Church has sought the path of cooperative engagement and avoided the perils of acrimonious confrontation.

Echoing this mode of civil engagement, President Monson declared: “As a church we reach out not only to our own people but also to those people of goodwill throughout the world in that spirit of brotherhood which comes from the Lord Jesus Christ.” Speaking of civility on a personal level, Elder Robert D. Hales of the Quorum of the Twelve Apostles taught Latter-day Saints how to respond to criticism: “Some people mistakenly think responses such as silence, meekness, forgiveness, and bearing humble testimony are passive or weak. But, to ‘love [our] enemies, bless them that curse [us], do good to them that hate [us], and pray for them which despitefully use [us], and persecute [us]’ (Matthew 5:44) takes faith, strength, and, most of all, Christian courage.”

The moral basis of civility is the Golden Rule, taught by a broad range of cultures and individuals, perhaps most popularly by Jesus Christ: “And as ye would that men should do to you, do ye also to them likewise” (Luke 6:31). This ethic of reciprocity reminds us all of our responsibility toward one another and reinforces the communal nature of human life.

Similarly, the Book of Mormon tells a sober story of civilizational decline in which various peoples repeat the cycle of prosperity, pride and fall. In almost every case, the seeds of decay begin with the violation of the simple rules of civility. Cooperation, humility and empathy gradually give way to contention, strife and malice.

The need for civility is perhaps most relevant in the realm of partisan politics. As the Church operates in countries around the world, it embraces the richness of pluralism. Thus, the political diversity of Latter-day Saints spans the ideological spectrum. Individual members are free to choose their own political philosophy and affiliation. Moreover, the Church itself is not aligned with any particular political ideology or movement. It defies category. Its moral values may be expressed in a number of parties and ideologies.

Furthermore, the Church views with concern the politics of fear and rhetorical extremism that render civil discussion impossible. As the Church begins to rise in prominence and its members achieve a higher public profile, a diversity of voices and opinions naturally follows. Some may even mistake these voices as being authoritative or representative of the Church. However, individual members think and speak for themselves. Only the First Presidency and the Twelve Apostles speak for the whole Church.

Latter-day Saint ethical life requires members to treat their neighbors with respect, regardless of the situation. Behavior in a religious setting should be consistent with behavior in a secular setting. The Church hopes that our democratic system will facilitate kinder and more reasoned exchanges among fellow Americans than we are now seeing. In his inaugural press conference President Monson emphasized the importance of cooperation in civic endeavors: “We have a responsibility to be active in the communities where we live, all Latter-day Saints, and to work cooperatively with other churches and organizations. My objective there is ... that we eliminate the weakness of one standing alone and substitute for it the strength of people working together.”

Live and Let Live

2009-10-25T13:14:00.025-04:00

I would be remiss if I failed to give a massive and sincere THANK YOU to Barbara. I love this woman. She understands that a person can be both snarky and compassionate, feisty and gentle, straightforward and kind. Many of our beliefs are polar opposites. In fact, she may cringe when she sees that I even referred to her in a post such as this, but that's kind of the point (not to make her cringe, but to share that even though what I believe might make her cringe, she never feels compelled to attack me or make me feel bad). She is my friend, we genuinely care about each other. She has taught me, and strengthened me often. I want to be more like her. It can be done people...living in this world, seeing things differently, finding a common bond, not participating in stereotypes and generalizations, sharing with respect and love...it can be done! Barbara is a "live and let live" kind of woman. And, she makes beautiful jewelry with more care than you can imagine! So really, what's not to love?

Sometimes it makes me sad that while I'm a "live and let live" woman, others refuse to afford me that same, simple courtesy. Politically, spiritually, religiously, socially...I do not give a rat's rear end how you choose to live your life as long as you leave me (and my family) alone. We don't bother a soul, we just go about minding our own business. We help people in need, with no expectation of thanks. We volunteer without being told to do so by our ~~soon to be state-run~~ media. We don't care what religion you are, what race you are, or how many tattoos you have. Why are you so concerned with changing us? I don't care if you eat meat or only things that never had a mother. Why do you care what I eat? I don't care if you hunt, as long as you aren't hunting me. I don't care if you smoke and choose to take years off your life, as long as I don't have to pay for it and you aren't blowing it in my face. I don't care what kind of lightbulbs you use. Why is my lightbulb choice so intriguing to you? I don't care if you use only the greenest of cleaners, so why do you care if I want to Clorox everything in my house? Just don't come visit.

Now there are some in my church and community, some holding similar political views, and they disagree with this philosophy of mine. Some people who are not members of my church, but who are also Christians, have a problem with this philosophy of mine. And of course there are people on every side of every ridiculous debate that will find something about how I live that bugs them. Their philosophy is not as much a "live and let live" line of thinking, but rather a "convince everyone else that we are right". I don't give a rat's rear end about that either. I'm beyond caring. I live my life in a way that inevitably brings about questions regarding my spiritual beliefs. My Christianity can not and will not be removed from the fiber of my being. It's who I am. Same goes for my social, political, and moral views. I don't want to push my beliefs and views on others. I also do not want others pushing their beliefs and views on me.

Having said all of that, I'm tired of feeling as though my beliefs are under attack. Every time I turn around, something I believe is being trashed. It's becoming quite disturbing actually. And all the while, Isaiah 5:20-21 keeps coming to mind.

My experience with creepy guy lit a fuse in the depths of my soul. I'm not a victim. I will never be someone's victim. Do not mess with me, got it? Again, as I said earlier, I don't bother anyone. I don't follow innocent people and intentionally scare them. I don't force anyone to come here and read my rants. I don't push my beliefs on others. But still I feel attacked, as do many others who share values and opinions similar to mine. Just don't be surprised when I respond to your attacks, when I stand with unrelenting determination to protect my family and those I love. I'm happy to forgive and forget. I'll even turn the other cheek. But just so you know, the cheek you'll be staring at isn't one of the two on my face. And I won't be turning any cheek until after I've let you know just what I think.

But remember, this will only happen if you attack me. I will never start a fight or argument of any kind. But don't look at me all shocked and tormented if you bring it on and I respond with more than just walking away. I'm NOT criticizing people who choose to walk away. That's my whole point...you do things your way, I do things mine. And YES I CAN be a woman full of compassion, tolerance, joy, virtue and all things lovely while also refusing to be pushed around! I'm just not the person who's going to sit by and pretend our world isn't falling apart. I'm more of an Ida B. Wells kind of girl.

I'm going to take a stand against my rights and my liberties being stolen. This country was founded on religious freedom, if you don't like it then go live somewhere else. If you want to live here, I fully expect you come here legally, and it wouldn't hurt if you made at least an attempt at speaking English. Why do I feel this way? NO, it's NOT because I hate immigrants. That's just ridiculous nonsense. (One day I'll tell you all about where my people came from and you'll be shocked.) It's about having a shred of decency, and a little respect for those who came before you, those who did the hard work and put forth the effort to do things the legal way! It's also about your children, and helping them have the best life possible. If you do things the legal way, and help them learn the language, you will be giving them endless opportunities. Now, if you don't live in this country, what do you care? I'm sure it's easy to pass judgement when you don't live here. It's always easy to have an idealistic picture of how things "should be" when your life is completely unaffected by the issues.

Back to religious freedoms. They are quickly becoming a thing of the past...well, if you're a Christian. But we know there will be times we are persecuted for our beliefs. So we can't be all that surprised. I stand firmly against abortion as a means of birth control or to "get rid of" an "unwanted"/"unexpected" pregnancy. Some say that means I am opposed to women's rights. (Excuse me while I go vomit.) I believe marriage should be between one man and one woman. Some say that makes me cruel and mean. (Excuse me, I have to vomit again.) Frankly, I could not care less who you love, if you were born loving people of your same gender, or are choosing a certain lifestyle. But, I don't think that just because you have a particular lifestyle the definition of marriage should be forcibly reinvented. I also don't believe you should be ridiculed, beaten, tormented, etc. because of your lifestyle. And I ask that you refrain from ridiculing, beating, tormenting and defacing the property of people who believe as I believe, and live the lifestyle I live.

This road of tolerance, love, compassion and peace goes both ways. I'm tired of it being a one-way street. The only people expected to extend hands of mercy, peace, tolerance and grace are Christian, heterosexual, socially conservative, American whites.

Why do politicians and the media fuel the fire over race? I'm raising two boys...white boys to be exact. Let me tell you...I am sick and damn tired of my boys being made to feel as though they have to apologize for who they are. I'm not keeping my mouth shut on this one anymore! I have two very polite, open-minded, compassionate boys (this is what I hear from teachers, other parents, pretty much anyone who meets them). I will fight to the death making certain they are not demonized by the leftist liberal media, unions, and "social groups" in this country. I find it disgusting that they are pushed back in an effort to let others get ahead. You can push them down. You can withhold things from them. But you will never keep them down. They are good, smart, kind-hearted boys. You can't keep kids like that down! It's on socially liberal America. It. Is. On.

CNN and Rick Sanchez, you've heard from me more than once. You'll keep hearing from me again and again. Not that you'll listen, but at least I can say I tried. Your "Being Black in America" series as well as your "Being Latino in America" series made for a wonderful discussion in my home. Eleven Year Old wondered why you didn't have a series called "Being a White Boy in America"....he thought you could interview him on how it felt when he blew the lid off his standardized tests in Maryland, but wasn't allowed to be acknowledged because he was white. Only minorities could be recognized. Doing his best was diminished because of his race. Yes, he understands we don't do our best for praise, etc. We do our best because that's a good way to live. But he also sees right through your ruse. You don't care about being black, white, or latino in America. You care about making sure the race fire is fueled. I guess I just can't understand why it always has to be about one group being perpetrators and another group being victims. Why can't we all help each other? Why this idea that for one person to succeed, another must be held back and kept from success? Why can't we just be people? People who aren't defined by race and religion? That's what I hope for, but until it happens I can't just sit by and allow my sons to be mistreated.

But, I can't and shouldn't blame CNN. Why didn't I pursue the issue last year? When my son was ignored because he's a white boy, I should have opened my mouth, loud and clear. But, I wanted to be a good Christian woman. I have a kind heart, and I'm not stupid. I know there are issues of great concern facing all people in this country. I didn't want anyone to think I don't care about the struggles of minorities, because I do care. I didn't want to cause a problem. What?!? The school district caused the problem. As an advocate for my child, I should have opened my mouth! Ida B. Wells would've been disappointed in me. She was an advocate for truth. She fought so that all people, regardless of color and gender could stand together. I don't believe she would be at all happy about what happened to my son. Ida Wells believed in equality for all, equality that shouldn't come at the expense of others. She once said, "One had better die fighting against injustice than die like a dog or a rat in a trap." Make no mistake, I will be neither dog nor trapped rat.

Oh my goodness, I feel much better now. I have to credit Em over at Life, Liberty, and the Pursuit for getting me fired up (in a good way). She is so smart, and her Friday's Food For Thought always gets me off my butt and ready to take on the world! In a Live and Let Live kind of way, of course!

Another Road Less Traveled

2009-10-19T11:20:00.023-04:00

Thursday afternoon I had a frightening experience. On my way home from a doctor visit, I was followed by a creepy stranger. At first he was in front of me, trying to get me to pull up to his car--jackass jerk didn't know I've read entirely too many Reader's Digest articles to fall for that trick! Then he sped up, slowed down, sped up, turned around, etc. until he ended up behind me. It's a long, icky story and to be honest, I don't want to revisit details. Thankfully, even though I was nervous, I kept my wits about me. I pulled into a fire station. The firemen were absolutely wonderful. In fact, creepy guy drove past the fire station twice while I was there, and I seriously thought one of the firemen was going to blow his top...he was so angry the idiot had scared me. And, I was scared. But, I was also angry. I loathe bullies and people who purposely intimidate others. The firemen suggested I stay at the station for a while just so we could make sure creepy guy didn't return.

When I left the station, I held it together until pulling safely into my garage. With all of my heart, I just wanted to call the Captain...everybody has a "go-to" person, and I just wanted to hear the voice of my go-to guy. The fact that I don't have that luxury right now was suddenly unbearable. I started crying, and by the time I made it into my living room I was sobbing. I was a crumpled heap on the floor, a crumpled, messy, wailing heap of a woman. No exaggeration, there was wailing. I was broken down. In fact, I haven't cried like that since my daughter died. And all those years ago, it never crossed my mind that I would cry like that ever again. But oh, I did on Friday afternoon.

If the wailing stopped for a moment or two, it was just so I could scream at the top of my lungs. "I can not do this. Do You hear me? I can not do this again. You better listen to me this time," I could hear myself bellowing. I was even pounding my fist on the floor. After 10 minutes or so, I just stopped. What exactly is the "this" that I can't do again, I wondered. No one's dying, I'm not preparing a funeral. What is the "this" that has shaken me to my core? I really didn't believe it was creepy guy following me that had pushed me to this point. But, I didn't have time for self-analysis right then. My 6th grader would be walking through the door at any moment, and this was not the picture he needed to see.

That night as I knelt beside my bed, I felt a wrestling match coming on, and I wanted no part of it. So, I simply stated: "Dear Heavenly Father, thank You for keeping me safe today, thanks for keeping my family safe. You and I both know I'm tired. I can't do this. Can't do any of it. Thank you for the Atonement of my Savior, Jesus Christ. Thank you for all of my blessings. I can't do this, ok. I'm going to bed now. Amen." I slept a solid eight hours. I was shocked when I woke and realized it was the best sleep I've had in a long time.

My head was clear. My heart still felt a little shredded, but it was all coming together for me. No wrestling required. "This" was actually a number of things. None of which I cared for, and all of which began to flood my mind...vulnerability, weakness, lack of power, and the biggie: lack of control. When my daughter died, I had never felt so powerless. Never before, and never since--until now--have I had such a complete lack of control in my own life. There is nothing I can do to make "this" stop. My go-to guy will be gone for a year. I have no control, no say, no power in that. In my mind, vulnerability is neither impressive nor attractive, and vulnerable is just exactly how I was feeling.

I was still in bed as I pondered these things. The following thoughts flowed clearly through my mind: "You are exactly right. You can't do "this" again. What are you trying to prove? You've wrestled with God before, what did you learn? Why would you choose to wrestle that very same match again, when you don't have to?"

I was reminded of Jacob, when he was asked: "What is thy name?" He was forced to remember his name, who he was, and how he got to that place. It was as though God was whispering to me, "Child, why are you forgetting that you already know your name? I've taught you so much about the woman you are. Can't you remember? I've already blessed you with the tools for "this"? You've already wrestled this match."

At that moment I had a choice to make. 13 years ago, I responded as Jacob did. "Tell me, I pray thee, thy name." (Genesis 32:29) Do I take that road again, or instead do I rely upon the answers and tools I've already been given? And so, Friday morning, I knelt beside my bed, just as I had the previous night. But, my prayer was not the same. "Dear Heavenly Father, You and I both know that I can't do "this". You don't want me to, and neither do I. We both remember I did "this" alone--by choice--many years ago. I'm not taking that road again. I know my name. I don't have to ask for Your name again, I already know it too. I'd like to take a different road, one I haven't traveled much."

A road that is about acceptance as opposed to wrestling with things I can't change. I don't so much like it when people flippantly throw around the phrase "Let Go and Let God". Having wrestled once, and coming so close to wrestling again, I understand there is nothing flippant about letting go. But if you can actually do it, the payoff is amazing.

I feel a renewed sense of peace. I am not powerless or weak. I may not have control of all things, such is life. But, in the past God allowed me to earn many tools, and I'm in full control of how I use those tools. I have the power to use those God-given blessings and tools, ones I wrestled and fought to receive, as I travel a new road.

It may seem unfitting to end with a quote from reality tv, but I've sunk to much lower levels before. The Biggest Loser is my newest reality series addiction. In the past, I haven't watched because I wasn't fond of Jillian Michaels. I thought she was too hard on the contestants. I have a friend who suggested I watch it anyway. Oh my goodness, I love it! The contestants are dedicated, open, and honest...with the exception of one whack-job, but there's one in every bunch, right? A few have even sacrificed their spot on the show so another can stay. These people are truly inspiring to me. And, Jillian cares about them. No doubt--she's cocky, and super tough on them, but she genuinely wants them to succeed. Last week, she was training a contestant who was scared and feeling defeated. Jillian's response to the woman made me pause the show. I had to rewind it until I could get the whole quote jotted down correctly.

Jillian: "You just don't want to let go of the story. That's why you're afraid. And until you're ready to step into a new life, and write a new story, you're just wasting your life. And your life's not going to change."

I'm writing a new story when it comes to "this". I don't have to prove anything to anyone, including myself. I'm becoming ok with not having all the control. I'm understanding that letting go and catching some of what life throws in your face (without fighting it off) doesn't mean you are weak and powerless. Sometimes we've already learned the lesson. Sometimes, instead of wrestling another match, it's preferable to use the tools we have...step into a new life, and walk a road we haven't traveled much. I won't waste another minute of my life on "this".

Blessings and a "Hilarious" Girl

2009-10-13T12:34:00.011-04:00

Please tell me I'm not alone on this one. I miss my kids while they're at school. Can't wait for them to get home so I can gush their cheeks. But, oh! my! gosh! 4-6p.m. kicks my tail. No matter how much I plan, prepare, gear up for it, know it's about to happen---those two hours still manage to waylay me. I stand in awe of 4-6p.m. Such power, such fierce determination to transform me into a beast.

Yesterday at 5:00, I was feeling frazzled and nowhere near on schedule with dinner. That's just about the time my neighbor showed up with dinner. She didn't ask if we needed anything, didn't ask if we liked what she was making, if it was ok if she dropped by with food. Nope. She just showed up, handed me the meal, and left. Left me standing on the porch with a hot casserole and mouth agape. That was the best dinner I've had in a long time.

This morning as I was cleaning toilets, the doorbell rang. This time it was a lady from church. I've spoken with her exactly three times. "Sorry to just drop in," she said, "but you've been on my mind." She handed me a bouquet of beautiful, bright yellow Spider Mums (a favorite of mine, but she didn't know that).

The blessings of strength and comfort I'm receiving can not be denied. I know people are praying for my family, and we can feel it. Thank you for your prayers, encouragement, and good vibes. Every bit is appreciated!
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Last night Princie was reciting lines from the new Barbie and the 3 Musketeers movie. Things like "don't mess with the dress" and such. She was successful in her attempts at making us laugh. It wasn't over the top funny. Well to us it was, but you know how it is. Some things are only that funny to the people you share your home with. We were asking Princie to repeat this little "booty dance" (sorry Snarky Mama, but that's what it is) she was doing. When she tired of our requests, she flopped onto the floor with a big smile.

Princie: "Mommy, I'm pretty hilarious, huh?"

Me: "You sure are Princie."

Princie: "I mean really MamaMia, did you ever even dream you could have such a hilarious girl."

Me: "Actually, yes, you are exactly the girl I dreamed of."

Princie: "Oh that's good. I'm happy I made your hilarious dream come true."
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I have a confession to make. My profile picture is old. Like, oh, 20 pounds ago old. But, I leave it up to remind me of my goal...lose the 20 and be able to see my eyes when I'm smiling. As of now, my cheeks tend to cover my eyeballs when I smile.

I needed a new dress for Eight Year Old's baptism. I took Princie shopping with me. I tried on dress after dress with her narrating in the background. "That's a thumb's up," or "That's a thumb down," she'd say.

Me: "I don't know, I think this one makes me look a little chubby. See how my back bulges in the back?"

Princie: "What do you mean? Like where it's all squishy sticking out?"

Me: "*heavy sigh*---yes honey, that's what I mean."

Princie: "No, you aren't chubby. I think you are just only beautiful. You aren't fat either. Just beautiful."

Me: "Oh my goodness little peanut, thank you."

Hours later, at home, she comes into the living room crying hysterically.

Princie: "Mommy, this is so bad. So, so, so, so, so bad."

Me: "What's wrong baby?"

Princie: "I told a lie, and I know telling a lie is so, so, so, so bad. I'm sorry I told a lie."

Me: "Ok, well let's talk about it, and you can make it better. No worries."

Princie: "I lied when I told you that you aren't fat. You are actually (insert image of Princie squinting her eyes while pinching her thumb and index finger together) a little bit fat. I'm sorry I lied to you."

(Me to Myself---I'm just sorry Princie's decided to go all Honest Abe on me.)

Me: "Ok then, you said sorry, I forgive you for telling a lie. Now, how 'bout you bring Mommy ~~two~~ three or ten Reese's PB cups to make it all better."

Sigh

2009-10-09T18:33:00.022-04:00

disclaimer #1: I feel some rambling brewing. I've got a lot rushing through my brain and little time to make sense of it all...equaling a messy post that's entirely too lengthy. Hope you're comfy.
disclaimer #2: This post is not open for debate. You believe what you believe, and have every right to do so...as do I. I've decided I don't blog to educate, change opinions, open minds, etc. If you don't like what I write, go get your own blog. All rude, ugly, nasty, etc. comments will be trashed, flushed, promptly sent into oblivion. Normally I don't moderate comments, but even I have my limits. In addition, I will find sheer pleasure in doing away with anonymous comments. If you don't have the guts to stand behind your nastiness, you don't deserve the privilege of being heard.
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I found this little gem on one of my favorite blogs called Life, Liberty, and the Pursuit...

No surprise it spoke directly to my soul. (And not just because the three colors used are my favorites.) No, it spoke to me because that's exactly how I feel. A person can speak their mind passionately while also treasuring peace, kindness, and compassion. Thanks Em, you know I think you're a rock star!

Along this line of thought, my favorite Dr.Seuss quote: "Be who you are and say what you feel, because those who mind don't matter and those who matter don't mind."

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I shall be telling this with a sigh
Somewhere ages and ages hence:
Two roads diverged in a wood, and I--
I took the one less traveled by,
And that has made all the difference.(From The Road Not Taken, by Robert Frost)

I've always found this poem intriguing. While the poem is often used to teach and preach the wonders of nonconformity, I see something else. Frost writes he will tell the tale at some point in the future. At this point, it's impossible to know if the sigh will be a peaceful kind associated with "the good ol days", the sigh of exhaustion, or even possibly the sigh of regret.

And what about "the difference"?
It's still too soon to know if the difference will be for better or worse.

I can't say that the Captain and I have always taken the road less traveled, but we've frequented that route more than once or twice. At this point, 16 years and 3 months into our lifetime together, I am telling this with a "sigh". It is a sigh of peace mingled with exhaustion, but zero regret. And, it has most certainly "made all the difference".

It wasn't love at first sight, more like love at second week. But, the day I met him, I believed we would become the very best of friends. I was right. We were engaged within 4 weeks....he only waited that long to propose so people wouldn't doubt our sanity. Funny, huh? Pretty safe to say we were taking our own road from the very beginning.

Friday I waved goodbye to my hero. Do you think he is leaving his family for the deserts of Iraq because he is a warmonger, because he likes to fight, or because he believes the ways of his country are superior to the ways of others? Wrong, wrong, wrong. If that's what you think, you couldn't be more wrong.

He is leaving because it's his duty. He is leaving because the United States Army paid for the Captain to attend medical school. Our family has a debt to pay. Before med school, he went to Chiropractic school. We owned a practice for a while and quickly learned some tough life lessons. In a nutshell, we lost everything....except each other, our integrity, and our families. After more prayer and fasting than I ever imagined, it was clear that med school was next on our road. This man heals, it's what he does. (If you could hear the tone of respect and appreciation in the voices of his patients and coworkers, you'd understand.) There was really only one way to make it happen---an Army scholarship. So, in 2000, that was the road we took.

It became our choice because we didn't have many other options from which to choose. He had the grades, the MCAT scores, and knocked the interview outta the park. But truth be told, because of where we lived, our options were limited. Had he been a female and/or an ethnicity other than Caucasian, our choices would have been numerous. Well, that's what he was told by the head of admissions. Along with, if you wait just one year, we can accept you. Meaning: we've already accepted all the white males we can this year, you're a little late this year because we have to meet some numbers, which I can't say anything else about or I'll be in trouble. (Some of you may not want to hear that, but truth is truth...it matters little whether you like the way it sounds or not.)

There was a time when that truth didn't sit well with me. That truth and I were not friends. Now I know that I've been blessed with too much good, too much beauty and kindness in my life to be bitter. Our road has made me laugh, cry, smile, cuss like a sailor, wail, and the list goes on. But Friday, as I waved goodbye to my hero I was proud. Not all pride is arrogant or haughty. I felt proud just to know this man. And as I looked into those beautiful blue eyes, I couldn't have been more thankful for the road we have traveled together.

The Captain knows I've felt for a very long time that our men and women should just come home already. He knows I felt this way loooooong before it affected our family so directly. The people our soldiers are putting their lives on the line for...those people have been fighting since time began, and they will be fighting when time ends. Their oceans of differences are just too vast. Maybe in the beginning they wanted change, but I don't think they want that now. Because now they see more clearly that change, peace and freedom, those things are costly. It would be lovely wouldn't it? If freedom and peace could just be handed to us, wrapped up all neat and tidy in a pretty little box. Peace can't always be delivered that way. We can pray, hope, and hold hands singing "We Are the World" until the end of this earth...but people continue to make their own choices. And reality is that peace sometimes requires work and sacrifice. Sadly, work and sacrifice are sometimes a far cry from neat and tidy. (If you've ever grieved you know what I mean.) The irony of peace is that you often have to walk through hell to get there. I don't really see the Iraqi and Afghan governments ready to take that walk. I saw them more willing when very little was asked of them. If they aren't willing to fix their corrupt governments, and fight the Taliban so they can live more peacefully...just let them be. Reality is often a tough pill to swallow. We are not the saviors of this world! Let them do their thing, and we can get back to the business of our own country. Because goodness knows we have plenty of our own corruption, education issues, oppression, and domestic violence to face right here at home! I'm pretty much over the whole "we want you here, but we don't, but we do" mentality. I'd like us to try and clean up our own back yard before addressing everyone else's.

Of course I had to mention all of the above to the Captain one more time before he left. His response? "What we think doesn't really matter does it? I took an oath. I made a promise to fulfill responsibilities. It's my turn to take care of those soldiers who are also fulfilling their responsibilities. The soldiers I will be caring for are trying desperately to help others have a better life. Bad people and unfortunately some very innocent people are hurt in the process. But those soldiers put themselves in danger, trying to help others have peace in their communities. And I'm going to care for our soldiers."

The Captain was right...what we think about how this country ended up over there, what we think about decisions that have been made since 2001, the feelings we have toward the Congress that voted to send us there, feelings we have toward a Congress that now fails to support those who sacrifice life and limb to fulfill duties, feelings I have toward an administration that clearly does not respect those who serve this country...none of it matters, none of what we think or feel matters to the people calling the shots. But, we won't stop thinking and feeling.

And I will stand firm and proud of my hero. He is humble and kind. He is loyal and paying a debt to the Army that funded his med school. He cares about the soldiers who risk their health and even life. I wonder if the attack on our country had happened in 2000, instead of 2001, would we have taken the same road? I'm embarrassed to admit I think I would've been too scared.

*sigh* All I know for certain is that two roads diverged. The one we choose has made all the difference. And I'm ok with that. In fact, I'm more than ok.

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Do you know who Denis Mukwege is? He was nominated for the Nobel Peace Prize. He deserved the award. So, I would like to take this opportunity to apologize to Dr. Denis Mukwege. I'm sincerely embarrassed that the President of the United States won this award over you, and I wish he would give it to you. Since we all know that won't happen, I'm giving Dr. Mukwege the Snarky Belle Peace Prize. (Which if you ask me is now worth just as much as the Nobel Peace Prize...minus the cash of course...since the once prestigious award has now been made a complete joke of because for the first time in history it's been given based on aspirations rather than actions.)

Dr. Mukwege heals torn bodies, broken hearts, and shredded souls. He does those things literally, not with eloquent words spoken from a podium while reading a fancy teleprompter. He is actually in the trenches fighting a war against women in the Democratic Republic of Congo. Did you know (as of fall 2008, according to CBS news) more people have died in that war than Iraq, Afghanistan and Darfur combined? Dr. Mukwege is a true advocate for Peace. He doesn't even waste time talking, he just acts. PLEASE learn more about the doctor. (I couldn't get the video to post here.) Truly, you will be doing yourself a great injustice if you don't take time to honor this hero. A champion for bruised and battered women. Thank you Dr. Mukwege, and again I'm sorry you haven't been properly honored. But then, I'm guessing that's not why you do it anyway.

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Why Barack Obama won the Nobel Peace Prize:

1.) He is not George Bush...and I'm not sayin' that's a bad thing.

2.) It was strictly political. How does a Peace Prize winner send more troops into Afghanistan? Joke's on you Mr. President. Your award comes with strings attached, and they look very much like the kind that dangle from a puppet.

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Little Jill had me laughing with this one...and I laugh so as not to cry, because I'm convinced this world is spinning out of control. I've posted her reaction in its entirety because maybe you wouldn't click on one more link, and then you'd be missing out:

On my trip to Target this morning for diaper rash cream. I heard the news on NPR.

And the Nobel Peace Prize goes to . . .

Barack Obama

To which I responded out loud to no one:
"YOU HAVE GOT TO BE FREAKIN' KIDDING ME"
He's done nothing. NOTHING.

They played the audio at the press conference. Audible gasps are heard after the announcement. Apparently I'm not the only one who thought he was undeserving.

Even the expert they were interviewing said "He has done nothing to merit this award"
Apparently, because you're THE OBAMA you get all sorts of accolades you don't deserve.

The expert noted that Europeans LOVE the Obama, but Middle America, not so much.

We all know why. Because in Middle America, you earn your rewards. You don't get International awards because of your "ideas". You have to prove yourself, and that he has not done. Even the expert said it. In fact she said the deadline for the nominations was 12 days after he was elected. 12 DAYS.

She went on to say that it is all about his Vision of Hope and Change, and that he can lead the international community to come together for peace. Let me reiterate. He had done nothing. But he "can" in theory.

Barf.

So scoot over Martin Luther King, and Mother Teresa. What did you guys ever do for Peace?

You could have saved yourselves a lot of work and time by just talking about change.

That is what we want to teach American kids. You don't have to do anything, and you can get a highly prestigious award (or what used to be).

Next up: Obama get's MTV's artist of the year award for singing along in the presidential limo. (question is will Kanye cry foul and take away his moment? hmmmmm)

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One little funny to wrap up this rambling post. Yesterday Eight Year Old walked into my room. He had a grin that was ear-to-ear, accompanied by the twinkle in his eye that melts hearts.

Eight Year Old: Hey mommy, I came up with a great idea. A reeeeealy great idea, you won't believe it.

Me: Cool, what is it?

Eight Year Old: I figured out how we can get rich.

Me: That sounds fantastic, tell me. How?

Eight Year Old: So we just get our money and make copies of it. Just start making our own money on the color printer. It's a good printer. That way, we can do whatever we want. We never run out, and if other people need some we can give them some too.

Me: Well, that would be perfect except for one small detail....it's illegal.

Eight Year Old: No way.

Me: Ummm, yep. People go to jail for that sort of thing.

Eight Year Old: Well isn't that what the government does? Just make more so they can spend more.

*sigh*
Oh yeahhhh, that's my boy!

Gasp! Oh My! What The?!?

2009-10-02T11:39:00.003-04:00

Tsk, tsk, tsk...listen up IOC, you really need to go back and read the memo.
The memo explained, in great detail, all about The Chicago 3. Seriously, the guy is a god. And those two women? Well they are total goddesses. The 3 of them are worshipped. Why are you not worshipping at their feet like the other intelligent, morally superior people of this world? How could you not understand The Chicago 3 believed just showing up, just gracing you with their collective presence would seal the deal!

You didn't get the memo? Well, I don't know how you could have missed it.

I'm worried about you IOC.
You have not bent to kiss the arses of Their Holiness, The Chicago 3.
Do you know what happens when you do not bend to kiss those arses? It gets ugly, there are consequences. You may be called racist, opposed to reform, bitter, greedy old white men, ignorant, irrelevant...shall I continue? Nahhh, I'll stop there, surely you get my point. Oh wait, one more consequence I should warn you of...if any twisted wingnut does something completely stupid or unconscionable, it will be your fault. Why? I don't know exactly. I'm just telling you what the big news gods said.

I don't know if the egos of The Chicago 3 will be able to stand this. IOC, apparently you don't understand the gravity of this situation. This could be devastating to their delusions of grandeur. They feed upon the praises of their followers. Have you not noticed they walk with their noses in a completely different atmosphere? I mean, they got swagger. And all good followers know you don't mess with their swagger.

Promises

2009-09-25T09:02:00.018-04:00

Thank you sweet Carly. I don't really have adequate words, but I want those who read this to know what you did. Carly gave me a Recognition of Life certificate for my daughter. You can read here to understand why this gift is so valuable...priceless.Thank you again for your thoughtfulness Sarah.
And, thank you Barb for remembering...love you.

I'm not the smartest or most articulate, not the skinniest, prettiest, the coolest, or the wealthiest...definitely not the wittiest, I'm not a world traveler or a rock star. But let me tell you what I am. I'm honest. Because of that, you can trust me. And today I'm making a promise to those of you currently in the throes of grief, sorrow or disappointment.

I promise the anniversaries that are now greeting you with despair and hurt...those anniversaries will not always come barging in with such ferocity. Someday they will knock gently, and with a little more compassion. They will kindly wait for you to open the door of your heart. While the longing and sadness never completely leave you, and at times memories, smells or sounds will unexpectedly flood your mind and heart, thus taking your breath away...there will also be peace.

Happy 13th Birthday to my firstborn child. You are being loved and remembered by so many today, people all over this world. Amazing. I want to thank you for opening my eyes to the beauty of written words. It's one of many gifts you have given me. Even as a child I loved to read, but your influence has taught me to cherish the art of words.

From The Looking Glass, by Richard Paul Evans:
"I consider with wonderment the path which has led me to this place of tranquility. Though one does not forget the wounds of the past, scars can bring gratitude if we will consider the healer. There is not a day that I do not think of her. Though I have peace in my heart, it only makes my longing for her more clear."

From The Prophet, by Kahlil Gibran:
"And the selfsame well from which your laughter rises was oftentimes filled with your tears. And how else can it be? The deeper that sorrow carves into your being, the more joy you can contain. Is not the cup that holds your wine the very cup that was burned in the potter's oven? And is not the lute that soothes your spirit, the very wood that was hollowed with knives? When you are joyous, look deep into your heart and you shall find it is only that which has given you sorrow that is giving you joy. When you are sorrowful look again into your heart, and you shall see that in truth you are weeping for that which has been your delight. Some of you may say, "Joy is greater than sorrow," and others say, "Nay sorrow is the greater." But I say unto you, they are inseparable."

©2003 Susan Noyes Anderson, His Children, Vantage Point Press
We make of Life an enemy or friend,
depending on our hospitality...
our choice to welcome Her or let Her be,
our right to denigrate or to defend.

Her face is ever changing as the moon,
yet She is fixed and forthright as the stars.
Her gifts are wisdom, joy and battle scars;
and all must dance, unbidden, to Her tune.

Life comes to us unbridled; shall we hide?
Or will we, through the pleasure and the pain,
embrace the greatest heights we can attain
and smile upon the world with hearts flung wide?

I am learning to smile upon the world with my heart flung wide. I promise.

Thanks for the Smile

2009-09-23T10:04:00.006-04:00

Yesterday my cousin called. She told me she's ordered flowers for Friday, and she'll take them to the cemetary. A bouquet of rainbow daisies tied with a bright lime green ribbon...because she thought maybe that's what a teenage girl would like (my girl would be 13 on Friday). I couldn't agree more. And the whole thing just made me smile.

A Lifeline

2009-09-18T09:11:00.006-04:00

A Breather

2009-09-10T08:08:00.011-04:00

I'm officially stepping away from the computer for a while. My heart and my brain aren't so much feeling this spot right now. And, for some reason that makes me feel guilty. Each day that passes without finding the time to read your blogs, comment, etc. leaves me feeling like a "bad" blogging friend. That's why I'm making it official...so maybe I won't feel guilty.

We laugh a lot in this house. I count that laughter as one of my greatest blessings. Lately, I just want to hunker down with my people and enjoy life. In the not too distant future, the Captain will be deployed. When? All we know is that it will be much sooner rather than later. So I say, commence the enjoying of life and laughter.

I am feeling the need to build up my reserves of energy, positive thinking, strength and faith in my own abilities. I want to reignite passions that don't revolve around the woes of the world, politics, czars with creepy beliefs (such as compulsory control of family size and allowing animals to sue us in court) and obsessively checking others' blogs (if you people weren't so funny, talented, creative, wise, etc. I wouldn't have this obsessive need to check your blogs!!)... things like reading, music, teaching, and seeing the beauty in mankind. Those are passions I once felt deeply, but in the past year have allowed to dwindle.

My recent epiphany helped me remember so much about who I really am. I'm working on getting those thoughts together. When I get those formed coherently, I'll post and then promptly return to my hunkering down. Now the mother hen in me is a bit nervous about stepping away, so may I ask one small favor? If you have some monumental news (or even small news), please let me know! It's not like I want to be banished to a deserted island, I'm just taking a breather!

Mmmmm, Kool Aid Tastes Goooood

2009-09-03T16:56:00.008-04:00

Thank you Sue for sharing the following video and giving me a laugh today!
Sue rocks.

Thank you Fiauna for your most recent post.
You have done a great service by raising awareness.
I agree that helping others is exactly what we should be doing; however, pledging to be a servant of a man is not something that makes me comfortable...in fact, I find it beyond creepy. No one should misconstrue this and insinuate that I am opposed to lifting and helping others. I'm just not a fan of celebrity ramblings and I find it sadly amusing that none of these people thought service was important before November 2008. I'm also concerned so many have forgotten that our elected officials work for the American people, not the other way around. I respect that Fiauna mentions not rushing "headlong into a political debate". I appreciate the thoughts she shared! Please read Fiauna's post. It's full of sincerity and common sense.
Can't beat that!

And So It Begins.....

2009-09-02T11:16:00.008-04:00

Did you know that having an epiphany can wear you slap out? I've had a few in my life, but this most recent one? H.U.G.E. I mean really huge. And, I'm tired now. Haven't even had the energy to tell my precious husband or SnarkyMama about it. Haven't had the energy to write about it, but it's coming...soon. I've heard people say maybe the reason for a tragedy or heartbreak is so that we can help others in their times of sorrow. I will never believe that. In fact, I don't find that the slightest bit comforting. What I do believe is that when you survive heartbreak you can choose to turn it around. You have the power to lift, comfort and guide others. Blessings and miracles will manifest themselves through others who have walked the path you face. There is an amazing woman I've met through blogging and she has taught me things I never knew about myself. I'll write about it when I can find the words and energy.

September is so predictable. Every year it begins, bringing along the familiar sounds and smells and cool air. All of which transport me right back to 1996. I haven't really "recycled" posts before, but today I make an exception. I wrote the following close to one year ago. It's true, some things never change.

~September 14, 2008
It's almost too much to process, the changing of seasons coupled with my oldest child's upcoming birth/death day (September 25). I walked outside this morning and felt the crisp fall air settling in on my world. In one moment I feel both freedom and suffocation. It is so strange, and no number of years will change that.

I wrote this poem a few years ago. It still holds true today.
I guess it always will.

How did I get here?
In this raging sea, and I can't swim.
Do I fight the suffocating darkness,
Or just let go?
I am alone now.

I am fighting to live, but only because everyone is calling my name.
I am growing tired, too tired to fight.
Darkness is my day,
Cold is my embrace.
I'm breathing, but I am not alive.

Outstretched hands all around me,
But none to pull me out.
I can't find the surface.
I give in to the pain,
Darkness is comfortable.

And yet, somewhere in my mind,
I know that my soul will never let me go.
My soul offers hope.
And with hope, a gentle voice whispers air into my lungs.
I have strength.
Strength to touch the One hand that can guide me to the surface.

I am free.
I am alive.
Light is my day.
Warmth is my embrace.

Defensive....Who Me?

2009-08-31T09:45:00.009-04:00

Lately I've had a hard time quieting my mind. My thoughts are playing MarioKart in my head. (You totally understand what I mean, if you play MarioKart like I do...which is mostly crashing into everyone else, getting turned around/driving backwards on the course, and knocking into every roadblock there is.) Pretty much a jumbled, chaotic mess of thoughts bouncing and bashing into one another: making sense of this new chapter in my life, finding my niche, Army life, politics, war, stillbirth, faith, hope, poverty, elitists, and the list goes on and on.

This morning I read a BYU commencement speech that was recently given by Elder M. Russell Ballard. As I read, it became clear that I often live my life on the "defensive", "waiting for the other shoe to drop", etc. While Elder Ballard's speech was directly related to my particular church, it struck many other chords with me. His wisdom can be applied to practically every aspect of my life. I defend my faith (to Christians I'm defending with things like: YES, Mormons ARE Christians. NO, I do not believe that I can buy my way into heaven with good works. YES, I do believe in grace. To atheists, agnostics, etc. I defend my belief in Jesus Christ with things like: No, I am NOT judging you. No I am not being nice so that later I can attempt to convert you...I just kinda liked you and thought we might be friends), I defend the longing I feel for my stillborn daughter, I defend my love of Dr.Pepper (the non diet, and completely caffeinated kind), I defend my conservative values, my sometimes liberal values, defend my passion for politics, defend my love of being in bed by 9 p.m., defend my snarkiness...defend, defend, defend. And frankly, it's exhausting!

In an effort to turn over a new leaf and begin "engaging" rather than "defending", I have a few posts brewing. For now, I leave you with a portion of Elder Ballard's speech. Again, it deals directly with life as a member of The Church of Jesus Christ of Latter-Day Saints. But, I'm guessing a little less defense (in all areas of my life) might help with the MarioKart in my head.

"In our interactions with others are we expecting always to have to defend ourselves? If so, I think we need to make a course correction.” Elder Ballard said. “It is inconsistent with where we are today as a Church and as a great body of followers of Jesus Christ.”
Elder Ballard referred to recent research that suggested Mormons can sometimes appear defensive to those who are not members of the Church. The study said that when Mormons are explaining their beliefs, they couch their language in terms that suggest they are expecting criticism.
Among the reasons for this type of reaction is the long history of persecution that Mormons faced during the early days of the Church, which included an extermination order from the governor of Missouri in the 19th century.
“That is now an indelible part of history. You have heard the stories of hardship and sacrifice since you were a small child. And yet this isn’t 1830, and there aren’t just six of us anymore. Could part of the defensiveness that others sometimes see in us suggest that we still expect to be treated as a disliked minority, forced to flee to the West?”
According to Elder Ballard, the growth of the Church is increasing its prominence and bringing public attention. He noted the Church is now the fourth largest church in the United States and that Mormons are found in nearly every community.
“This prominence alone ensures that the Church is going to be talked about more and more, and that Latter-day Saints are going to find themselves in more and more gospel discussions,” he said.
In suggesting the tone Mormons might adopt in responding to criticism, Elder Ballard referred to the Church’s response to a cable network airing a dramatization of its sacred temple ceremonies earlier this year. The statement explained, “As Catholics, Jews, and Muslims have known for centuries, such attention is inevitable once an institution or faith group reaches a size or prominence sufficient to attract notice.”
He also explained that too often Mormons allow others to set the conversational agenda, and subjects such as the long-discontinued practice of polygamy become the focus.
“Whenever you are having a conversation about the Church, you should try to make this a point. We follow Jesus Christ. We try to live as He taught. That’s the basis of our faith and our lives. This is the strongest non-defensive position you can take. You don’t have to defend or justify anything when you are basing your position on the teachings of the Son of God, and the fact that you are doing your best to keep His commandments,” he said.

And It Makes Me Wonder

2009-08-27T16:07:00.004-04:00

"When the real history of mankind is fully disclosed, will it feature the echoes of gunfire or the shaping sound of lullabies? The great armistices made by men, or the peacemaking of women in homes and in neighborhoods? Will what happened in cradles and kitchens prove to be more than what happened in congresses?"
~Neal A. Maxwell

Partisan Politics...Clear as Mud

2009-08-21T17:27:00.004-04:00

Healthcare is a "right", but life isn't?
You can go ahead and file this entire debate under: Things that make me go hmmmmm?!

Lost, Found, and Failing

2009-08-17T12:30:00.004-04:00

Lost:
My energy and drive to unpack boxes.
Found:
A sad little puppy, lost & roaming around the house because she doesn't know what to do with herself. (Ok fine, so I'm the "sad little puppy"....I miss my kids. I want summer back! And sending your "baby" to Kindergarten, thus giving you loads of alone time, is HIGHLY overrated!)
Failing:
I stink at sending kids back to school, especially Princie the Kindergarten girl.
I stink at being home alone.
I should be unpacking boxes, but I move around the house like a zombie, just waiting for my people to get home.

Lost:
My desire to create a separate blog for political rants and ramblings.
Found:
A renewed sense of "If you don't like my thoughts, go somewhere else, bite me, etc." A push to keep standing and one way of doing that will be staying right here in MY spot. My time away has put things back in their correct perspective. I made this spot, I come here to feel free, and I'll be darned if anyone is going to make me uncomfortable in my own spot! So, please forgive my temporary insanity.
Failing:
My commenting on others' blogs is tremendously lacking right now, and I apologize. My goal is to be fully back in action next week!

Christopher

2009-08-08T21:34:00.003-04:00

Today my little friend passed away. When death rears its ugly head, I'm quickly reminded of just how selfish I can be. He is okay now. I know it. He's no longer in pain, no longer suffering. And for that, I am grateful. But, I'm devastated. I'm hurt and disappointed. My heart breaks for all of us who are left behind, who no longer have the pleasure of being graced by his presence on this Earth. I do not worry and fret over what happens after this life. I am not afraid of death. I'm afraid of the pain it leaves in its wake...the feeling that your chest has been ripped open and your heart shredded.

And most importantly, what about his parents and two sisters? I feel physically ill as I think of the days that await them. I don't even have words for the aching I feel for them.

Do you think maybe my Victoria was one of many awaiting this precious little guy's return? Is it possible that they could share a hug, and know of my love for them? I believe so.

There is a sacredness in tears.
They are not a mark of weakness,
but of power.
They speak more eloquently
than 10,000 tongues.
They are the messengers
of overwhelming grief,
of deep contrition,
and of unspeakable love.
-Washington Irving

Prayers

2009-08-07T11:01:00.006-04:00

Well I've finally made it home. I am looking forward to getting caught up on all of your blogging goods. And, I have tons of pictures & stories to tell. But, today is not the day.

Today, I am pleading for your prayers on behalf of my little boyfriend and his family. The little guy is not doing well. My heart is too heavy for words to express it. He should be starting kindergarten this month, not lying in a hospital bed with erratic vitals and unresponsiveness. This child is one who laughs and loves freely. He is the happiest kid I've ever known, and in the past weeks has reminded his family to "smile even though our hearts are hurting". Truly an amazing child. And I will be forever honored to know I was his first crush. Funny isn't it...how such silly, trivial things like being a five year old's first crush or remembering a smile and wave nonchalantly shared in a preschool hallway can suddenly become the very things we cling to in times of heartache and sadness. The tiny things that I never would've imagined I'd someday be thanking God for...but today, that's just what I'm doing.

Please pray for him. Pray for his sisters as they are beginning to fully realize the severity of this situation. Please pray for his doctors. And, of course for his parents. They are facing heartwrenching decisions. Decisions that no parents should have to make. Many of you are all too familiar with the pain they are facing now and will face very soon....if they do not get their miracle. The Sliker family needs peace and comfort, please pray they can feel both. Thank you! Sincerely.

Grains of Sand in My Swimsuit, Part 4

2009-08-03T10:03:00.006-04:00

At the beach Snarkettes. Be back soon!
Grains of sand in our swimsuits? Absolutely! But these I don't so much mind...in fact, I'd say these are the good kind that make for good times!

Can't Quite Catch Up

2009-07-21T21:23:00.006-04:00

Maybe I just forgot how long it takes to unpack a house and family? I believed I would be closer to truly "settled" by now. But, not so much.

It's Tuesday, and I'm just getting around to posting the poem Sue wrote for The Captain. It's Tuesday, and I haven't checked in with any of you...or left comments, which is one of my favorite things to do. It's Tuesday, and the kids and I are headed to Mississippi (hard to believe I haven't been there in two years) tomorrow morning...early...I need to go to bed. It's Tuesday, and that means in just a few days, I'll be 5th row, in Memphis, at the AMERICAN IDOL CONCERT!!! WOO HOO! Snarky Mama is performing the ultimate sacrifice and giving me her ticket. I can't believe it. This means it's true...she loves her daughter more than she loves her some Adam Lambert! UNfreakinBELIEVABLE! I will most definitely share some pictures from this blessed event!

Now for the poem.You may not "get it" because Sue was A-MAZ-ING with how she added personal touches and incorporated the "inside" family jokes. But, this made us laugh, and cry, and laugh some more. Happy 40th Captain, and Happy 16th Anniversary! I love you "most and best"!

A Birthday Tribute to Jared on the occasion of his 40th birthday

There couldn’t be a better day
to celebrate the birth
of Jared, the most perfect and
good-looking man on earth.

This view includes no bias, for
as all can plainly see,
J-Rad makes Pitt look like the pits
and shames McConaughey.

And yet he’s modest to a fault,
despite his many skills.
This guy does more than look good,
he dispenses shots and pills!

You got it; he’s a bona fide
D.O., a woman’s dream.
Okay, he has one weakness…
He’s a sucker for ice cream.

And chocolate chippers dipped in milk…
with crushed red pepper, please!
(Some oddities are not offset
by medical degrees.)

Some oddities are not offset
at all…Take the remote.
JJ has two speeds only: warp
and slow as an old goat.

But no one wants to get his goat
on this, his birthing day.
And strange or not, his family seems
to love him anyway!

They love his crazy dancing, and
his cardigan so blue.
They even love it when he says,
“Let’s make a plan.” It’s true!

They like it very much. They do!
“Are we a team, or not?”
They even like his “Popeye legs,”
“steamroller,” and what-not.

His stubbornness? Okay, it’s cool.
His watch obsession? Sure.
The Andersons are loving folk,
who patiently endure.

More than endure…They’re proud of him.
Of course they are! Just think.
If he inhaled a case of Mountain Dew,
they wouldn’t blink...

Because they know if it were bad
for them, he wouldn’t try it.
Besides, he’d never drink the regular…
only the diet!...

The same is true with Cinnabon,
a problem in the past.
These days, he says “Can’t eat that!”
Which means, “Go and buy one, fast!”

Oh yeah, you bet. They know the code.
His family “hears him” well.
That’s why they are “survivors”, who
turn basement lights off well.

They always pay attention to
this man they idolize.
They give him gifts so they can see
crazed glee in his blue eyes.

(Well, not just for that reason, for
they’re givers…to a fault.)
There’s nothing they won’t do for him.
Of their earth, he’s the salt.

A stubborn and sarcastic guy,
who’ll tease you to a fit,
old Jarrell’s still the best around…
and that includes his wit.

It’s dry as dry can be, and honey,
that’s the way we love it!
Sure, he’s a Kansas City fan,
but he can rise above it.

Or not. In Jared, those poor Chiefs
have found a faithful man.
Their losing’s taught him what it means
to be a loyal fan.

And he is ever grateful!
Well, okay then, maybe not.
(At least he’s learned good coping skills,
and those are worth a lot.)

When Natta Splatta’s mad at him,
he handles it with grace.
He whistles loud as loud can be
to find his “happy place.”

He also seeks his happy place
in movies, golf, and running.
He finds Braveheart, The Patriot,
and Gladiator stunning.

On TV, he likes basketball…
(That’s college ball, not pro.)
Chris Farley or The Office seems
to be his favorite show.

He checks out Bernie Mac re-runs
as well…These make him laugh.
His loftier self likes sculpting
to indulge his artsy half.

Oh by the way, this artsy self
IN NO WAY is involved
with “wrestlemania,” an issue
yet to be resolved.

But let’s stick to the pleasant things
like Chloe’s “true love’s kiss”
and Cole’s painful encounter with
the pitch that couldn’t miss!

Hey, ain’t no thing but a chicken wing.
Cole and his dad are a’ight.
(And so are Cade and Dad, who love
to banter day and night.)

Speaking of banter, have you heard
how J-Rad wooed his bride?
Apparently, he made quite sure
that she’d be by his side.

She’d only been in Provo for
a day or two, at most,
when she encountered Jared, in
his role as flirty host.

Church had been canceled due to snow,
so Natalie’s good bud
led her to an apartment filled
with cute guys, not one dud!

The place was packed, but J-Rad said,
“Sit by me; I don’t bite.”
She took it as a challenge and
did not put up a fight.

In fact, she didn’t fight at all…
Four weeks, and she was dust!
In love…engaged…embarrassed, too…
she broke her homegirls’ trust.

She’d promised them she wouldn’t wed,
but Jared had his ways.
It wasn’t love at first sight, though…
just love at fourteen days.

He lied to her right off the bat.
(This truth is sad to say.)
He fed her Olive Garden food,
a fact he’d not convey.

Instead he said he’d done it all…
cooked every single thing.
Did he ‘fess up? Of course! Once she
said yes and wore his ring.

But all was quite forgiven when
he made sure to agree
that, like Natalie’s folks, they’d wed
in Washington D.C.

He wanted his wife happy, and
he gladly paid the price
in cost and inconvenience. Sigh.
J-Rad is really nice.

He is. Why not admit it, with
all kidding said and done?
At church, home, work, or anywhere…
his rep is number one.

He knows that love, not money, is
the gift that makes hearts sing…
and yet to meet his family’s needs,
he’d give up everything.

He’s cradled babies in his arms,
rocked them to sleep, and fed them.
He dearly loves his children and
has kindly, gently led them.

He’s been an anchor for his wife,
a loving friend and teacher.
He’s always by her side and goes
where others cannot reach her.

This poem is getting personal,
so let’s change points of view,
exchanging “he,” “she,” “they” and “them”
for “I,” “me,” “us” and “you.”

Henceforth, the poet hands this poem
into Natalie’s care.
Her voice is needed to explain
the things she wants to share.

Thanks, bard. Okay, I’m taking over.
This should not surprise.
I’ve never been a shrinking violet,
and that still applies!

It’s all about us, Jared.
Start to finish, you and me.
In those first days at BYU,
we sealed our destiny.

A chiropractor you were first,
but finances were tough.
You feared that, as our family grew,
we might not have enough.

And so you took a leap for us
by entering med school.
You took on stress beyond belief
and never blew your cool.

What’s more, you never blew us off
as husband or as dad.
However sleep deprived, you never
yelled or made us sad.

In fact, you made us happy!
Family first has been your creed.
Bedtime stories, hugs, and board games…
You met every need.

You always have; you always will,
in good times or in sorrow.
No matter what goes wrong, your hope
is for a bright tomorrow.

We’ve felt the soaring joy in life.
We’ve borne the sinking pain.
We’ve walked through days so dark it seemed
we’d never smile again.

When we lost our Victoria,
your heart was broken, too.
How did your know the words to say?
The loving things to do?

That day I knew she’d leave us,
just before she left my womb,
you came and knelt beside me, in
the shelter of our room.

You took my hand and held it tightly.
Safety filled my soul.
You helped me tell our little girl
that one day, she’d be whole.

We told her she had changed our lives.
We told her of our love…
We promised her eternity,
united up above.

And then, we sat in silence, but
my heart could not be still.
I wanted, just once more, to feel
her move, to know the thrill…

of her sweet life inside me, ebbing
now. You bowed your head,
and placed it on my stomach as,
together, prayers were said.

We fervently poured out our hearts,
pleading for one last sign
of all she was and is to us,
and of God’s hand divine.

We prayed and then we waited, but
we didn’t wait for long.
Our little daughter said farewell
with one last kick, so strong…

that your head bounced. A miracle!
Pure light engulfed your face.
We’ll not forget the blessing of
that sacred time and place.

Our joy is in the journey now;
we take nothing for granted.
Your life and mine grew richer with
each seed of sorrow planted.

Today our lives are rich indeed.
In you, my soul finds peace…
and warmth and hope and laughter,
wrapped in love that will not cease.

Sometimes I think of half a dollar bill
in one, small casket.
I wait to hear a question and
the dear voice that will ask it.

“Do you still have your half a dollar,
Daddy?” she will say.
I know you’ll answer, “Yes,” because
you carry it each day.

And you will share that ice cream that
you promised her, together,
as all of us look on. One family,
sealed in love forever.

You are my very dearest friend.
I trust you with my heart.
You’re with me when I’m in your arms
or when we’re far apart.

I love you when you’re tough and strong
and when you’re soft and sweet.
I love it when you cook for me.
(Best food I’ll ever eat!)

I love you when I’m Snarky, and
I love you when I’m Belle.
I even love your singing in the shower.
Can’t you tell?

I love you when it’s easy, and
I love you when it’s hard.
(But if you ball my covers up,
you’d better be on guard!)

You are the Captain of our ship.
That’s why we’ve made a fuss.
We hope this poem has let you know
how much you mean to us.

So Happy Birthday, soldier…
40 years, and going great.
It’s time to get your party on.
Hey y’all, let’s celebrate!

This poem presented to Captain J-Rad
on the occasion of his 40th birthday

With love from Chloe, Cole, Cade, Victoria
and Natalie…Your crew.

May every dream you dream be yours
And every wish come true!

Thank you Sue, for your role in giving Jared this priceless gift!

This Post is Entirely Too Long

2009-07-15T10:49:00.011-04:00

Hmmmm, I don't quite know where to begin.
I guess I'll just start with this:
I can't wait to read your blogs and get all caught up!
I LOVE GEORGIA!!!

So much has happened, and I'm pretty sure that this post will be full of scattered ramblings. I hope you can forgive me. I had this grand plan of journaling the move in chronological order, but that may not be the way it happens. When something pops into my mind, I'm just going to type it asap so as not to forget things.

Only one of us had a meltdown during the entire move. You may be thinking: "Sweet little Princie, bless her heart." Nope, not her.....ME! On the day the packers showed up at our house, I thought things were going well. We had no idea there was some tension between the workers, the supervisor stopped by, and long story short....two of the three packers ended up walking out in the middle of the job. Oh well, no big deal, two others showed up, things got packed, and we were ready for the movers to come and load the truck the next morning.

Next morning at 8:30ish, my cell phone rang. The guy driving the moving van couldn't find us. He and his coworkers were about 20 minutes away at a truck stop, wanting to know if we could drive to where they were, so they could follow us to our house! I suggested just telling them how to get to us from the truck stop, but the guy said no because he wasn't sure exactly where he was. What the @*#*?? Right now, it makes me laugh. But at the time, going on practically no sleep, and knowing that after everything was loaded on the van, we still had to clean the house immaculately, load our cars, and drive for hours...well, it sent me over the edge! If these guys couldn't find my house when they were 20 minutes away, how in the world were they going to find their way to Georgia?!? Ever the calm and collected type, the Captain set out to track down the movers and lead them to our home. He felt certain none of this was cause for concern.

Turns out, he was right. No matter that they couldn't find our house. No matter that the driver, Mr. Samuel, was somewhere in the neighborhood of 85 years old. One of Mr. Samuel's associates, Mr. Charles, was close to 70 and the others were (compared to Samuel and Charles) whippersnappers. No matter that every 45-60 minutes each one of them stopped to take a smoke break. They got the job done, and even though we left Maryland several hours later than we had hoped, it was all ok. (Just a small sidenote...I don't have much advice for moving, even though I feel like based on the number of times we've done this, we've reached expert status. The only piece of advice I have is this: keep your movers happy. We always make sure they have a cooler full of Gatorade and water. And, we feed them lunch. They like it. It makes them feel appreciated. I was shocked as they shared stories of how horribly some people treat them. Probably people like me who have no calm, collected Captain to talk them down when movers can't find their house!)

So, we made it to Georgia to close on our house with exactly 12 minutes to spare. We rolled into that closing looking like a bunch of hobos. Nobody cared....seriously, they just wanted our cash.

Now, to the house. I can't even express how much all five of us love this home. I feel like Goldilocks when she finds the porridge, chair, bed, etc. that is "just right". We are finally home, that's the only way I can describe this! We have spent so many years crammed into places that weren't a good fit for us. But this home? It fits. It's not too big or too small...it's just right. The first night, I was up at two in the morning, just roaming around and taking it all in.

The first week, we all slept on the floor in the master bedroom. Our food came from the coolers because we hadn't purchased a fridge. We ate picnic style since we sold our dining set before we left Maryland. We had no t.v., no computers. It made for fun memories. Good times. After a week, we got the call from Mr. Samuel and Mr. Charles...yep, they had made it and were in the WalMart parking lot. Could I please drive there, and lead the way to our house? Of course I could...and this time, no meltdown.

We are still getting settled. That always takes longer than expected. It took me three days just to organize the kitchen. I've never had so much cabinet space, so much drawer space. For the first time in sixteen years, I was able to unpack all of my dishes, etc. The kids have had a great time unpacking their rooms and organizing their things, along with spending time at the neighborhood pool. So much fun! They seem to be adjusting well, and enjoying this move. They say it's "awesome" here.

We'll see how things go when school starts, but so far we absolutely love it. In fact, there has been talk of staying here after our Army commitment is fulfilled. This town has the feel of the South that I love and have missed dearly, without the racial tension I've felt in other Southern places. That brings peace to my soul. I'd pick this part of Georgia over Mississippi any day. I was talking to a friend of mine yesterday and she mentioned that in Mississippi she actually feels anxious when she orders white American cheese at the deli. I laughed at first, but she wasn't joking. It's sad. She really gets nervous, and feels a little guilty! Over cheese people! Why? Because in Mississippi, most things associated with being white are (not always, but quite often) viewed negatively and with great disdain by others. So, it's been wonderful to be in a place where we don't feel any of that. Wonderful! I can order any kind of cheese and not feel bad about it.

Also, the weather in Georgia suits me well....hotter and definitely more humid than Maryland, but less hot and humid than Mississippi (which leaves you feeling as though you are actually suffocating, the air is so thick and stifling).

Best of all, the people here are so friendly! The first week, it took us by surprise more often than not. Cashiers in stores? Smiling and happy to help. No crappy attitudes. No treating you like it's a pain in their behind that you had the nerve to shop during their shift. Waiters and waitresses? Actually earning their tips, and hoping your dining experience is enjoyable. (We've been here for two weeks, and only one time have we encountered an unpleasant attitude.) Sometimes it's just baffling. A few days ago, I was in the WalMart parking lot loading bags into my car. It was raining. A man walked up, and just started taking bags out of the cart, and putting them into my car. I looked at him like he was crazy, and stepped back. He said, "Oh, I'm sorry, I just thought you could use some help, especially since it's raining." It was clear he felt badly for startling me. I explained, "Look, I just moved here from a town close to Baltimore. Dude, you almost got yourself a kick in the groin." I am working on letting my guard down, not too much, but just enough that I don't attack innocent strangers. Luckily, the guy that runs the convenience store down the street from our neighborhood told me the next time I come in, he'll flip me off and cuss me out so I feel more at ease.

Thank you all for your prayers and good vibes. We have felt them. It has not escaped us, the fact that we haven't felt completely exhausted and overwhelmed. I know your thoughts and prayers have strengthened us. Thank you. I can say this has been the least stressful move I've experienced. I count myself and my family blessed beyond measure. It's almost unbelievable when so many years of hard work finally come to fruition. My heart is full of gratitude for my Father in Heaven, my husband, my children, and all those who've supported us throughout our journey...family, old friends, and new friends as well.

I guess that sums up the move. We are happy and enjoying getting settled. Again, we'll see how things go when school starts. But, for now, it looks like this could be home for a very long time.

During my blog absence, the Captain had his 40th birthday! And yesterday, we celebrated our 16th wedding anniversary! On Friday (hopefully Friday, but if not then over the weekend) I'll be sharing a poem that was written just for him. A while back, I won a giveaway from my dear blogging friend Sue. Check out her blog here, and her poetry site here. She's a gifted lady and I'm so excited to share the special poem she wrote for my man with all of you!

Now, to wrap up this rambling post, I have a few miscellaneous thoughts that have been on my mind during the move. The last few are, of course, political. So, if that's not what you care to read, stop after #1. What? Surely you didn't think I'd miraculously turn non-political on you?

1.) I had a lot of great "thinking" time while driving from Maryland to Georgia. I thought a lot about why I'm consumed with my weight and flabbiness. Would you believe it's been two years since I put on a swimsuit? Two years! My kids and the Captain swim a lot. I just sit by the pool and read. I came to a very strange conclusion! This is going to sound so ridiculous, but here goes anyway: I obsess about it because I think I should. Because surely a person with this much flab can't feel good about herself, right? I'm carrying an extra 15 pounds, and every ounce of those pounds is flabby and gushy. Now, don't get me wrong, I don't want to gain 15 pounds every two years. I want to be healthy and live a long life. But, the weirdest thing has happened...I've decided I'm fine with who I am. I'm fine with the flab and gushiness. I don't love it, and I know I need some work, but no more obsessing about it. No more negative, consuming thoughts about myself. Thoughts that have come to me because I made the poor choice to listen and believe when "society" (a society that I readily admit is flawed in most of its thinking) bombarded me with messages and images hinting that my flabby 15 make me "less than" someone who has a perfect body. Why do we listen? I'm beyond tired of worrying about everything I put in my mouth. Also, I realized I've been avoiding working out because I don't want to commit to one more thing that I HAVE to do for the rest of my life. I just don't, the thought overwhelms me. So my perspective has changed. I'm going to shoot for exercising three times a week for 40 minutes. If I eventually get hooked, fine. If not, fine. I'll just put in my three times a week so that my health improves and is maintained...and to keep from gaining more weight each year. But, not so I can look like the jacked up image in my head or to look like some celebrity who gets paid to work out. I'll do it so I can feel good and be healthy. I've actually been dreading going to Mississippi for a visit because I've gained 15 pounds since I was last there. But again, a switch was flipped over the course of my driving/thinking time. I'm not going to worry about it anymore. If people want to gossip about how I've gained weight, or that I'm beginning to show my 36 years and 7 months...well, I should just feel sorry for them, given that's the most interesting thing they have to discuss. I'm going to take my kids swimming and enjoy it! I'm going to put on that swimsuit, flabby arms, belly and all. I've come to understand that my perception was seriously warped. I'm healthy. It's very true... I don't look like the girl from years ago. I don't look like her on the outside and certainly not on the inside. I couldn't be happier about that.

2.) I was sad to hear the news about Michael Jackson. Because we were without tv and computers, I read a blurb about it on my Blackberry. We missed the memorial service and the nonstop news coverage, which didn't make me sad. Although he began to creep me out in recent years, I will always regard Michael Jackson as one of the world's greatest entertainers. I believe he was a musical genius. I also think he was a tortured soul. More often than not, I felt sorry for him. That said, I was more than a little disturbed to hear that Congress actually held a moment of silence in his honor. Do our "leaders" do the same for each and every soldier killed in wars they have approved and funded? If they do, I've never heard about it. Please let me know if I am mistaken. If they do not hold moments of silence for every single soldier whose life is taken on a battlefield or due to the traumatic effects of war, then shame on them. And it sickens me to think they would do so for a celebrity.

3.) I don't care that Sarah Palin resigned, but of course I have some thoughts on it. I think it confirms what many of us already knew. She was nowhere close to being ready for the office of President. I guess she would've been ok working in McCain's shadow as VP, but President material...NO way! I'm sure some will accuse me of judging her and her decisions. That isn't my intent. I have the right to judge no one. I'm simply noting that if she couldn't stand the pressure, it's a darn good thing she wasn't elected. And, I can promise you this...she'll never get my vote for anything. She has shown me she really isn't a "Maverick". Mavericks don't quit when thousands of people have elected them to do a job. Mavericks don't quit when they commit to fulfill certain responsibilities. Honestly, I can't say that I blame her. I can't imagine the stress and strain her family has endured. But then, I've also not made the commitments she made. I guess I'm just skeptical of the reasons she gives for throwing in the towel. No one will ever convince me she's doing it strictly for the good of Alaska. And, if it's really about family, I'm just wondering how an intelligent woman and mother could have ever made such career choices and not anticipated the stress and attacks from media, etc. Surely, at some point she weighed the chances and the risks. Apparently, she and her husband decided the chances for political success were worth the risk. She took the chances, and she can't blame that on harsh critics and media. Also, if it's all about stepping away in an effort to protect Alaska and her family, then why is she still running her mouth about any and everything?

4.) During more of my driving/thinking time I came to a better understanding of liberal thought. Now, this is just my take on it, and I'm sure my liberal leaning friends will be more than happy to correct me. It seems that some liberals believe they are the only ones who care about helping those who are in need and/or are suffering. My thought was confirmed this morning as I listened to Sonia Sotomayor's confirmation hearing. She was asked if she feels she has "generally liberal instincts". Now, before I go any further, I have to say I believe that was a stupid question. It's pretty evident she has liberal instincts. I say fine. I've never taken issue with liberal vs. conservative instincts, as long as neither is extreme. In fact, I've often expressed that my instincts lean toward a kind of liberal conservatism, as opposed to strict conservatism. Today, Sotomayor summed up my gut level issue with strict liberal thinking when she answered the question about "generally liberal instincts" with this statement: "you could talk about that (referring to her work with the Puerto Rico Legal Defense and Education Fund) being a liberal instinct in the sense that I promote equal opportunity in America and the attempts to assure that." That reply did not sit well with me at all. I whole-heartedly reject the notion that promoting equal opportunity in America is strictly a liberal instinct. Frankly, it disgusts me that she would even insinuate such nonsense. And that, my friends, is the issue I have with people who think like Sotomayor. In my opinion (and no one will change this opinion so don't even bother trying), thoughts and statements such as hers only add to the problems we face. To insinuate that conservative instincts would not allow for promotion of equal opportunity in this country is appalling. My instincts could possibly be considered more conservative by some people, and I want equal opportunities for people in this country just as much as anyone else. I have big plans and ideas for beginning organizations and foundations strictly for that purpose. I just need the money to do it...that's one reason we work around here. And I certainly do not appreciate Sotomayor insinuating that because I am conservative, I don't care as much as she does. That because she is a Latina and overcame obstacles she is somehow more compassionate and caring than I am...because I couldn't possibly understand the struggles of others, could I? That thinking makes me ill. People who think as Sotomayor does are judgemental. They look at people like me and because I am currently happy, healthy, live in a comfortable home with a loving husband who has a good job, and have three healthy children in my home, they make judgements that our life has been a walk in the park. I would enjoy the opportunity to tell Sotomayor, and others who unfairly judge as she does, that she doesn't know me. She has no idea what I have overcome, and I don't just mean with the loss of my child. She can't possibly know what others have faced. Does she think she's the only person who had a tough childhood? That only minorities have obstacles in their way? That only minorities suffer injustices and sorrow? That's absurd. There are too many children in this country with challenges, too many children suffering and they aren't minorities. Does that make them any less important? I believe to people like Sotomayor, it does.

And while I'm on this topic, let me just state that I know many white males who have overcome great odds and have worked hard to reach their goals, with NO help from anyone! Men who were just as poor as Sotomayor, whose mothers were widows, who were abused, ignored, hungry, cold. I reject the notion that they count less because they are white males. It would be nice if this country could stop blaming conservative white males for all the world's ailing and failings. The extreme liberal thinking that conservative white males are the root of all evil and that they don't care about minorities, that they don't care about those in need...such misguided thinking serves no one. Most of the conservative white males I know give readily of their time and money. They choose to do it outside of the limelight, without heralding and praise from others. They quietly go about life taking care of their families and communities. I don't know one white male who has a group advocating for them. You say they don't need one, because they always get what they want. False. I know white males who have lost opportunities strictly because of their skin color. I know them personally. I honestly thought, after our most recent Presidential election, this nation was moving toward healing and being color blind. This nation will never be color blind. Not with people thinking as Sotomayor does. Not with the persistent demonizing of conservatives and whites by powerful leaders.

Ahhhh, it feels good to be back. Sorry if you disagree. ;)

Signing Off for Now

2009-06-22T10:00:00.010-04:00

I've been wondering why I'm losing sleep over politics and government. It's been annoying me. The past few days I've been reminded that when I'm afraid, I get angry. There aren't many things that I'm afraid of, so when fear does creep its way into my mind and heart, it can wreak havoc. I loathe fear. All the reasons why are a post for another day. Last week, it became crystal clear to me that my fear manifests itself as anger. And who better to fuss about than politicians and journalists? But, it's not so much politics, government, the media's blithering or their irrational, obsessive love-fest with our Celebrity in Chief that's the cause of my sleepness nights. It's not really even anger keeping me up at night. What it all boils down to is fear.

It's the upcoming move. I'm afraid to move again. Sounds ridiculous for a girl who's moved 8 times in 16 years to suddenly be afraid of move number 9, doesn't it? Ridiculous as it may be, I'm afraid. And I can sum it all up in just 2 simple words: my children. Let's start from the beginning, shall we?

Victoria: This upcoming September 25, my daughter would have turned 13. With each move, in some ways, I face her death all over again. Obviously it isn't with the excruciating intensity and sorrow of a recent loss, but it's there...a silent, painful rip at my heart. It actually makes my chest hurt. I dread the first walk into church, school, wherever. People believe they are seeing my family. No one knows my oldest child is missing, that my family portraits are incomplete. And, do they even care? No. Because they don't know to care. How can anyone know? They make simple, benign statements. Something like: "Oh, these must be all of your children." Cue the knots in my stomach and lump in my throat. Cue the screaming in my head (because my heart is yelling up to my brain that it's forgetting someone): "No, these are not all of my children. I have another child, I have another child."
But, once again, the brain will beat the heart as I reply: "Yes, these are my children."
I can't really explain it. All I can think of is that it might be like you introducing your children to new people, you acknowledge all but one. But not only do you ignore the one, you also pretend the child doesn't even exist. Because if you don't play the pretend game, everyone wants to run out of the room since you've made them all so uncomfortable.

I fear facing the loss of my daughter again. I fear the moments when my heart and head battle it out....you have four children...just say you have three...you have four children....just say you have three.

Next, we have Eleven Year Old: He will be leaving wonderful friends. I have shed countless tears, in the privacy of my closet, over the past week. This past Friday was my boys' last day of school. My heart ached as my oldest son barely made it through the door and into the living room before the tears began to freely flow. He knows he will make new friends. He knows this is just one more great adventure....his head knows, but his heart is taking a beating.

He has four of the greatest friends a mother could wish her kids to have. These four boys are sports fanatics, athletes to the core. My son is not. He can play sports, but he doesn't really love it. He plays basketball with them at recess, not because he necessarily loves to play, but because he appreciates their interests. And they in turn, appreciate his. My child is an artist, a writer, an actor. These boys made it a priority to show up at art shows and contests, making sure Eleven Year Old always felt supported. One mother cried as she said to me last week: "He has taught our boys that it's totally cool to write stories and draw. There is life beyond sports." Of course, I cried as I responded: "But your boys have taught him it's ok for him to just be himself, and that it's completely cool to be a little different."

My son had a truly amazing teacher this year. Mr.Thompson changed Eleven Year Old's life in a dramatic way. He taught my child life lessons stretching far beyond the academics. He insisted that my boy stay true to himself, to stand up for what he believes in, and to be proud of who he is. When my son started a petition requesting "free seating" at lunch, a few teachers tried to shoot down the idea. They told him he couldn't do it. But, my son's teacher stepped in and asked why. Here was a child trying to make a difference in a school of over 800 elementary kids. And, he was doing so in a most respectful, thoughtful way.
Mr.Thompson encouraged my son to do what he thought was right, and to never be afraid. Because of his support, my son found the courage to keep going with the petition. He even went to the office and requested a meeting with the principal. It worked, and the kids got their free seating. This may seem like no big deal, but it made a difference in my son's life.

I fear we've used up our good karma. I am scared that my "a little different" artist son may not find friends like he has here...especially as we venture back to the South, where baseball is king. I fear that my child may never have another teacher like his 5th grade teacher. I'm afraid of middle school, especially middle school in a new place.

And then there's Seven Year Old: This kid loves life. He is as laid-back and go-with-the-flow as any boy can be. Often, he acts before thinking things through. He is rowdy and silly, but has a tender little heart. He cried on the last day of school also. I can see that he's a little nervous about moving, but doesn't want to admit it. He had a fantastic teacher this year too.

I fear we won't be so blessed in the teacher department next year. Maybe we've used up our fabulous teacher credits. And this boy needs a loving and patient teacher. One that is equal parts firm and caring.

And last, but not least, Princie: We've made such progress with her. She'll be starting Kindergarten in the fall. We are leaving people who already know and love her. A school community that was happily looking forward to her arrival.

I fear the move is going to throw us back to where we were 2-3 months ago. And I won't lie, I am terrified. I don't want to go back there! It was painful and heartbreaking and beyond exhausting. I fear we won't find people so willing to help her, so willing to love her.

That's it, in a nutshell...albeit a very big nutshell. It's fear. And I loathe fear. But, in the midst of the fear (if I take a moment to be still), I have glimpses of peace and comfort. Reminders that I'm not completely alone. Last week, Misc.&Etc. posted about fear. And, if you don't already know, Snarky Mama FINALLY posted on her blog. HOORAY! Her first post? All about fear. She & I never discussed any of this.

Then I received this beauty from Seraphim...a reminder that no matter where I go, no matter how many people don't know....someone, somewhere, does know...and is remembering my child. I'm not too proud to admit my emotions are running high lately. No surprise this made me cry. It's so beautiful. Thank you Seraphim, thank you.

The movers will be here in just three days. So, I'm signing off for now. I won't be back until I am moved and can find the computer; although, I could hijack Eleven Year Old's laptop if necessary. And while I'm gone, I'll be fighting the fears.

"Be anxious for nothing, but in everything by prayer and supplication, with thanksgiving, let your requests be made known unto God; and the peace of God, which surpasses all understanding, will guard your hearts and minds through Christ Jesus." ~Philippians 4:6-7

Peace.

Pathetic

2009-06-19T18:45:00.012-04:00

Arrogant. Prideful to a fault. Bitter. Disrespectful. Oh, I have about a hundred other words to describe this woman's embarrassing display of ego. (And I promise you that ma'am is NOT on my list!) I don't know if she felt the need to show her rear-end because she's seriously that impressed with herself, or because she's so enormously insecure that she has to demand being addressed by her "title". I've heard there are women offended by being called ma'am because they feel a need to take the feminist agenda to every extreme imaginable. I guess some women complain it makes them feel "old"....Oh good grief, whiny-whiny-whiny.

Regardless of her reasoning, this was completely uncalled for, absolutely ridiculous and just plain rude. Military protocol advises the use of "sir" and "ma'am" when addressing anyone higher on the chain of command than the officer. Clearly, this Brigadier General meant no disrespect! But it's evident public servant Boxer did. If not, she seriously needs to reconsider her tone as well as the manner in which she presents herself. Otherwise, some could view this display as a reflection of how the extreme & farthest left wingnuts truly feel about our military men & women who serve & protect.

Military personnel are not the only ones who use the terms. Most Southerners use the words to show respect and to be polite. (Just an interjection...I tire of people telling my children they don't have to say sir and ma'am. They are my children, and yes they have to!) Again, I don't know what Boxer's issues with the word ma'am might be. And quite frankly, if I tried, I could not care less. I say if she (or anyone else for that matter) has a problem with ma'am and sir...well, get over it. Just like I have to get over a whole lot of crap in this country based on the "culture" and/or "orientation" of others!

I certainly hope SENATOR Boxer is referring to all of you California voters as "boss" because she does work for you; although, I'm guessing she conveniently forgets that minor detail as often as possible.

Janet Has Spoken...I Hope Someone Listens

2009-06-17T18:58:00.012-04:00

Over the past two weeks, my mind has been racing with thoughts. None of which I could transform into coherent, fluent sentences. Lately, I can't even watch the news because when I do, I feel like a ton of bricks has been slammed firmly on my chest. I keep telling myself to let things go. Reminding myself that our upcoming move is what matters right now. Once I get settled, I can go back to being my annoyingly-passionate-about-all-things-political-self. Because really, I just don't have it in me right now.

Thankfully, Janet has it in her. She is sick of both parties, and the failure of our elected officials to represent her. She wrote an open letter to our nation's leaders (and I use that term "leader" very loosely). She emailed the letter to Glenn Beck. Now some of you are going to click right off this page simply because I mentioned Glenn Beck, and you don't like Glenn Beck. Oh grow up. I don't care much for Keith Olbermann (for pete's sake, he spews when he yells into the camera, and why doesn't someone on his staff suggest he wipe the scummy spit out of his hinges during commercial break). But if you told me there was something important that had been aired on his show, something that I could learn and benefit from, I would read on. Honestly, if you don't read Janet's letter because of your feelings about Glenn Beck, you'll be missing out on a great opportunity. I know, I know it's a long letter, and you're busy. It's still worth your time. At the very least scroll down and read the last 3 paragraphs! But seriously, please just read the letter!

First, I've posted an excerpt from her interview on Glenn Beck's show. It's followed by the letter she wrote.

JANET: Well, I don't want this. I don't want this fight, Glenn. I don't have the time or the energy or the financial resources for it, but that no longer matters. It no longer matters that I'm able or that I want this fight. I have to take it on. It's not a matter of choice anymore, which is why I wrote the letter.
GLENN: Janet, you have gosh, you just make my heart, you just make my heart so full because this is what I...I don't remember the occasion but I remember I was on the air and somebody saying, you know, why are you talking about the financial stuff? You're just talking everybody down and you're talking the economy down and you're just trying to scare everybody. And I remember passionately with tears in my eyes saying, "I don't want to be this person. I don't want to say these things, but I have to." And to hear you say that, I know exactly what you mean and I'm hearing it more and more.

***(I just have to interject something here....I know how they feel!! I understand. I get it, and I'm tired of people who don't get it attempting to make me feel like a crazy loon because I'm passionate about what's happening in this country! Sometimes even the Captain just shakes his head at me. He doesn't understand my fire when it comes to this stuff; however, he never makes me feel like a loon...thanks sweet husband!)***

JANET: No, I would rather mow my lawn and wash my car and play with my grandchildren.
GLENN: Who wouldn't.
JANET: But I can't now. I cannot, every minute of my spare time now has to be devoted to getting these guys out of office.
GLENN: Janet, how long did it take you to write that letter?
JANET: Probably two hours. Because you go back and you tweak.
GLENN: Have you ever written anything before?
JANET: Yeah, a few things but I mean, not published things but, yes.
GLENN: May I, may I make a prediction. Your letter, in the next 72 hours, will be a letter that is circulated through a good portion of this country on the Internet. I have a feeling your letter may become a rallying cry.
JANET: I hope so.
GLENN: I think it will.
JANET: Because when I tried to e mail it to our representatives and our senators, most of my e mail was blocked, not in their district; they're not interested. But you know what? I don't care if I'm in their district. I'm coming for them, too.
GLENN: Janet, I know for a fact that the White House watches my program. I know that the halls of congress, I've talked to enough people in congress and the Senate that they watch, and those who are on the receiving end of our investigations or our opinions, they watch more than those who are not. Your letter is going to be heard today in Washington and we're putting a petition together with your letter in the free e mail newsletter today. So that goes to about a million people alone there, and I'm going to ask them to please pass it on to all of their friends and let's just watch what happens in the next, in the next week.
JANET: That would be great. The other part of this is the invisible people who can and do represent my views need to come out of the shadows.
GLENN: To stand up.
JANET: I don't know who they are. They're going to get washed away with the rest of them if they don't have the courage to stand up.

Janet's letter:
I'm a home grown American citizen, 53, registered Democrat all my life. Before the last presidential election I registered as a Republican because I no longer felt the Democratic Party represents my views or works to pursue issues important to me. Now I no longer feel the Republican Party represents my views or works to pursue issues important to me. The fact is I no longer feel any political party or representative in Washington represents my views, or works to pursue the issues important to me. There must be someone. Please tell me who you are. Please stand up and tell me that you are there and that you're willing to fight for our Constitution as it was written. Please stand up now. You might ask yourself what my views and issues are that I would horribly feel so disenfranchised by both major political parties. What kind of nut job am I? Will you please tell me?

Well, these are briefly my views and issues for which I seek representation:

One, illegal immigration. I want you to stop coddling illegal immigrants and secure our borders. Close the underground tunnels. Stop the violence and the trafficking in drugs and people. No amnesty, not again. Been there, done that, no resolution. P.S., I'm not a racist. This isn't to be confused with legal immigration.

Two, the TARP bill, I want it repealed and I want no further funding supplied to it. We told you no, but you did it anyway. I want the remaining unfunded 95% repealed. Freeze, repeal.

Three: Czars, I want the circumvention of our checks and balances stopped immediately. Fire the czars. No more czars. Government officials answer to the process, not to the president. Stop trampling on our Constitution and honor it.

Four, cap and trade. The debate on global warming is not over. There is more to say.

Five, universal healthcare. I will not be rushed into another expensive decision. Don't you dare try to pass this in the middle of the night and then go on break. Slow down!

Six, growing government control. I want states rights and sovereignty fully restored. I want less government in my life, not more. Shrink it down. Mind your own business. You have enough to take care of with your real obligations. Why don't you start there.

Seven, ACORN. I do not want ACORN and its affiliates in charge of our 2010 census. I want them investigated. I also do not want mandatory escrow fees contributed to them every time on every real estate deal that closes. Stop the funding to ACORN and its affiliates pending impartial audits and investigations. I do not trust them with taking the census over with our taxpayer money. I don't trust them with our taxpayer money. Face up to the allegations against them and get it resolved before taxpayers get any more involved with them. If it walks like a duck and talks like a duck, hello. Stop protecting your political buddies. You work for us, the people. Investigate.

Eight, redistribution of wealth. No, no, no. I work for my money. It is mine. I have always worked for people with more money than I have because they gave me jobs. That is the only redistribution of wealth that I will support. I never got a job from a poor person. Why do you want me to hate my employers? Why ‑‑ what do you have against shareholders making a profit?

Nine, charitable contributions. Although I never got a job from a poor person, I have helped many in need. Charity belongs in our local communities, where we know our needs best and can use our local talent and our local resources. Butt out, please. We want to do it ourselves.

Ten, corporate bailouts. Knock it off. Sink or swim like the rest of us. If there are hard times ahead, we'll be better off just getting into it and letting the strong survive. Quick and painful. Have you ever ripped off a Band‑Aid? We will pull together. Great things happen in America under great hardship. Give us the chance to innovate. We cannot disappoint you more than you have disappointed us.

Eleven, transparency and accountability. How about it? No, really, how about it? Let's have it. Let's say we give the buzzwords a rest and have some straight honest talk. Please try ‑‑ please stop manipulating and trying to appease me with clever wording. I am not the idiot you obviously take me for. Stop sneaking around and meeting in back rooms making deals with your friends. It will only be a prelude to your criminal investigation. Stop hiding things from me.

Twelve, unprecedented quick spending. Stop it now.

Take a breath. Listen to the people. Let's just slow down and get some input from some nonpoliticians on the subject. Stop making everything an emergency. Stop speed reading our bills into law. I am not an activist. I am not a community organizer. Nor am I a terrorist, a militant or a violent person. I am a parent and a grandparent. I work. I'm busy. I'm busy. I am busy, and I am tired. I thought we elected competent people to take care of the business of government so that we could work, raise our families, pay our bills, have a little recreation, complain about taxes, endure our hardships, pursue our personal goals, cut our lawn, wash our cars on the weekends and be responsible contributing members of society and teach our children to be the same all while living in the home of the free and land of the brave.

I entrusted you with upholding the Constitution. I believed in the checks and balances to keep from getting far off course. What happened? You are very far off course. Do you really think I find humor in the hiring of a speed reader to unintelligently ramble all through a bill that you signed into law without knowing what it contained? I do not. It is a mockery of the responsibility I have entrusted to you. It is a slap in the face. I am not laughing at your arrogance. Why is it that I feel as if you would not trust me to make a single decision about my own life and how I would live it but you should expect that I should trust you with the debt that you have laid on all of us and our children. We did not want the TARP bill. We said no. We would repeal it if we could. I am sure that we still cannot. There is such urgency and recklessness in all of the recent spending.

From my perspective, it seems that all of you have gone insane. I also know that I am far from alone in these feelings. Do you honestly feel that your current pursuits have merit to patriotic Americans? We want it to stop. We want to put the brakes on everything that is being rushed by us and forced upon us. We want our voice back. You have forced us to put our lives on hold to straighten out the mess that you are making. We will have to give up our vacations, our time spent with our children, any relaxation time we may have had and money we cannot afford to spend on you to bring our concerns to Washington. Our president often knows all the right buzzword is unsustainable. Well, no kidding. How many tens of thousands of dollars did the focus group cost to come up with that word? We don't want your overpriced words. Stop treating us like we're morons.

We want all of you to stop focusing on your reelection and do the job we want done, not the job you want done or the job your party wants done. You work for us and at this rate I guarantee you not for long because we are coming. We will be heard and we will be represented. You think we're so busy with our lives that we will never come for you? We are the formerly silent majority, all of us who quietly work , pay taxes, obey the law, vote, save money, keep our noses to the grindstone and we are now looking up at you. You have awakened us, the patriotic spirit so strong and so powerful that it had been sleeping too long. You have pushed us too far. Our numbers are great. They may surprise you. For every one of us who will be there, there will be hundreds more that could not come. Unlike you, we have their trust. We will represent them honestly, rest assured. They will be at the polls on voting day to usher you out of office. We have cancelled vacations. We will use our last few dollars saved. We will find the representation among us and a grassroots campaign will flourish. We didn't ask for this fight. But the gloves are coming off. We do not come in violence, but we are angry. You will represent us or you will be replaced with someone who will. There are candidates among us when hewill rise like a Phoenix from the ashes that you have made of our constitution.

Democrat, Republican, Independent, Libertarian. Understand this. We don't care. Political parties are meaningless to us. Patriotic Americans are willing to do right by us and our Constitution and that is all that matters to us now. We are going to fire all of you who abuse power and seek more. It is not your power. It is ours and we want it back. We entrusted you with it and you abused it. You are dishonorable. You are dishonest. As Americans we are ashamed of you. You have brought shame to us. If you are not representing the wants and needs of your constituency loudly and consistently, in spite of the objections of your party, you will be fired. Did you hear? We no longer care about your political parties. You need to be loyal to us, not to them. Because we will get you fired and they will not save you. If you do or can represent me, my issues, my views, please stand up. Make your identity known. You need to make some noise about it. Speak up. I need to know who you are. If you do not speak up, you will be herded out with the rest of the sheep and we will replace the whole damn congress if need be one by one. We are coming. Are we coming for you? Who do you represent? What do you represent? Listen. Because we are coming. We the people are coming.

Ohhhhh, I love it!! Thank you Janet! Go here to read the entire interview, and here to sign the letter.

Princie's Puzzle Peace

2009-06-11T11:05:00.019-04:00

I owe some of you a great, big thank you. If I could give you a giant squeeze of love, I would! Thank you to those of you who pray. Thank you to those of you who may not pray, but never fail to send loving, peaceful thoughts my way. It's working Snarkettes, it is working!

I've hesitated sharing this because I'm afraid if I put it out there, I'm just asking for trouble. Just asking for a "jinx", or something of that nature. But my next thought is always this: I will not live in fear of the unknown and the what-ifs. I did that for many years, and really no good ever came of it. And anyway, I like to think I have more faith than that. Surely my verbalizing something, or putting it on this blog does not hold such power. That's what the rational me says. But the not-so-faithful, not-so-rational me says beware the verbalizing or writing of the good news. So, in spite of the nagging negative whisper in my crazy head and in honor of the rational, faithful me....Here goes......

It's been 28, that's right, 28 days since Princie had one of the dreaded, massive, heartwrenching, wear-us-down-to-the-bone meltdowns. Of course we have miles to go, but considering where we started, I find this to be no small feat! Can you believe it? I can. Because I believe in the power of prayer and good vibes. And I am grateful to those of you who have compassionately prayed for and thought of my family recently. Honestly, I wasn't sure I could handle all that's happening in our lives right now, plus Princie's struggle. In all honesty, I was pretty sure I was going to crack (and it was going to be sooner rather than later, and oh so ugly). For those of you who have a child with sensory issues, etc. and have prayed relentlessly, with no relief from the meltdowns and struggles, please know my heart hurts for you. As I have mentioned time and time again on this blog, I don't understand why things work the way they do. I don't understand why Princie can go 28 days with no meltdown, but another child can't go 28 minutes without one. I do know just weeks ago, she was the child who couldn't go 28 minutes without one. I also know we aren't out of the woods. She could have a meltdown 60 seconds after I hit the "publish post" button. In the next week or two, she will most likely have a massive meltdown. But, we are taking it one moment at a time. And expressing gratitude for each day that passes with only a small episode, or even better...no episode at all.

More than anything, I believe my ability to handle this situation has increased. And perspective is often (as Snarky Mama would say) a "game-changer". One of my favorite quotes is from Ralph Waldo Emerson: "That which we persist in doing becomes easier to do...not that the nature of the thing is changed, but that our power to do is increased." Lately, I've felt strengthened and I know that strength to persist comes from my Father in Heaven. I've spent a lot of time in prayer, pleading that I could find more beneficial ways of mothering my daughter, that I could be guided to something that might ease her struggles. In this situation, I believe that's been key. I haven't prayed that my child would be changed. Just that I could change my parenting, that I could better face the challenges and help this little person find peace. Again, that's this particular situation. And every challenge we are faced with requires a different approach. I guess what I'm saying is that I know there are times when praying for a healing from affliction or pain is the best thing to do. But this time, I knew in my gut what had to change....me, my perspective, my inability to just stop and think about ways to reach her...those things had to change, not my child.

All of that said, would you like to know what has brought the greatest peace and joy to Princie over the past few weeks? PUZZLES. Jigsaw puzzles to be exact. She is the most content I've seen her in months! Now before you look at the pictures, you should know that this is her work. She likes for us to be in the room with her, but doesn't want our help. So we set up her little table in the middle of the living room, and away she went.You know how most people begin with the outer edges? Not Princie. She dumps the pieces out, and just grabs one, and then another, etc. She will scan the pieces, until she finds the fitting piece. She never looks at the box, and I have yet to figure out how she can do this so quickly. I'm not kidding, it's fascinating to watch. Ok, so I'm her mother, of course I'm fascinated.

It all began with the 100 piece Shrek puzzle, followed the very next day by the 150 piece Princess puzzle. After finishing the Princess one, she says to me: "These are too easy, like they're for babies or something." (I have to add here that the pieces aren't that big either.) Then, Nana came to visit and bought her a 150 piece Fancy Nancy puzzle. (Fancy Nancy is currently undergoing PuzzleSaver surgery and is unable to be photographed.) Princie would put these three puzzles together, take them apart, put them back together, take them apart...over and over again.

The next step? Nana bought Princie a 300 piece Fairy puzzle. I was unsure...the box said ages 9 and up, these pieces are smaller (1:1 ratio) than the ones in the other puzzles, a lot of the colors in this puzzle are so similar. Couldn't this pose a problem for a child who just turned 5 in March, and doesn't look at the box? Apparently not.

And that my friends is the story of how Princie found Peace....
well, for the time being anyway!

Peace of Mind

2009-06-08T16:00:00.028-04:00

(Added June 10, 2009) Honestly, I had hoped I wouldn't have to even write about the following situation, but I'm afraid it could be negatively impacting the legitimate, selfless efforts of Amy. You may have heard about the "April Rose" blog ordeal. I am not going to get into all of it, but the bottom line is this: A very disturbed individual portrayed herself as a pregnant mother carrying a baby who was not going to live. This woman was embraced by a community of grieving mothers who wanted to support her. If you would like to know more about the situation go here or here. After this, I will not spend any time on the topic. This woman needs help and prayers. She is clearly not well. That said, I am concerned this could deter people from donating to Amy's Peace of Mind Fund. Amy and I have been in contact, and we agree that it would be unfortunate for those who really need our help to suffer because of the actions of one very sick individual. We can't allow the actions of one person to erode the hope and faith of others.

God winked at me Saturday morning. That wink was the catalyst for my last post. On Saturday, I posted about what God winks are. Now I'm going to tell you about how He winked at me.

Friday night I went to bed angry. I don't like being angry, and I can tell the difference between anger and passion. Most days, I am passionate about politics. But Friday night, I was livid. When I first began blogging, I made a promise to myself that passionate venting would be okay, but I would do my best to let anger subside before ever posting. Friday night, I went to bed instead of blogging. In my prayer before bed, I asked God to help me get over my anger. I prayed specifically, because I have no doubt that God answers specifics. I mentioned to God that I was going to blog about those political things that were so upsetting to me....unless I woke up Saturday morning with something better to write about, unless I woke up to thoughts more important than those political ones running through my crazy head.

Saturday morning when I woke up, I wasn't angry anymore. I thought over the list of political issues that I had allowed to upset me the night before, and I just didn't have it in me that morning. So instead of posting, I checked my email.

A blogging friend of mine, Amy, had emailed me. Amy's first child, Alexis, was stillborn January 15, 2009 due to a cord accident. Just a few short months ago, this 24 year old mother buried her child. And do you know what her email was asking? It was asking if I would be willing to help Amy in her efforts to support another grieving mother. She simply asked that I share her latest project with you. This amazing woman, still in the throes of her own grief journey, is focused on easing the burden of another. The pure love of Christ, there is nothing greater. And I knew in that moment, God was winking at me. There was definitely something better to write about that morning.

When Amy found out she was having a baby girl, she began making bows for Alexis. Although Alexis will never wear the bows made by her sweet mother, Amy continues to create them with love and care for others. This is where you and I come in. Amy's friends, Natalie & Rob, have also felt the devastation of stillbirth. Amy's words are far better than my own, so could you please go here and read about Natalie & Rob. Find out what you can do to help ease their burden. If you make a donation (even just one dollar or two) you will be entered in my giveaway. I am not trying to pressure anyone, just acting on something that touched my heart deeply. I was only 23 when my daughter died. I know that it doesn't matter how old you are when you lose a child, the pain is horrific and your heart is ripped to shreds. But I do think I feel drawn to Amy and Natalie because they are young mothers, just as I was when Victoria was stillborn.

You could be the lucky winner of one of Amy's adorable creations. If you don't have a daughter young enough for one of the headbands, you could always give it as a gift. Just be sure to leave me a comment letting me know you donated (I wish I didn't have to do this, but I'll be checking with Amy to make sure you did, in fact, make a donation...thanks for understanding.) Also, if you add the Peace of Mind button to your blog, you get an extra entry! Be sure you tell me in your comment if you added the button.

Two headbands=Two winners!

Remember a few weeks ago when I wrote about being a "doer", about getting things done in our own little corners of this great, big world? Well this is a way we can get something done. I often hear people speaking with great cynicism about efforts that only help one or two out of the millions suffering. But my feeling is that we have to start somewhere. And while I may not be able to bring peace of mind to every mother out there, that won't stop me from helping the one person I can. With a little effort, from a lot of people, we can give comfort to two young parents who have suffered greatly. And Amy, thank you for showing such strength and courage in the midst of your own unimaginable pain. I know Alexis is proudly looking down at her mother, and I don't think it's too far-fetched to believe she and God are both giving you a little wink.

Open Eyes, Shut Mouth

2009-06-06T10:26:00.012-04:00

How many times are blessings laid at our feet and instead of graciously accepting them, we talk our way out of receiving them? I can't even begin to imagine how full my life would be if I opened my eyes and shut my mouth more frequently. Why do I sometimes feel compelled to intellectually talk my way around what is very clearly a blessing from God? Why is it easy for me to accept the "big" blessings as having come directly from God? But the smaller day-to-day things that make me smile or feel relief? Well, I'm embarrassed to admit, I often blow those off with thoughts like: "Well, that's weird", "Surely that didn't just happen", or "What the?".

How often are we most worn down by the stresses of day-to-day living? Having fifty different places to be and too many people vying for our attention? How often do we wish, during those hectic hours, for just one minute of reprieve? Each morning I pray that I can find joy in the journey and be more patient...each night I pray that I can do better the next day. And all the while, God is winking at me. He is reaching out, sending small blessings each day. Blessings that I downplay as too trivial to have come from God. And yet, each one somehow eases my daily burden. Each one is a tiny miracle. But rather than accept the tiny miracle, I run my mouth, talking my way around the blessing He is trying to give me!

(I should add here that I always offer prayers of thanks for things like finding a close parking spot on a rainy day, or not getting stuck in traffic, etc. It's the "coincidences" I have trouble accepting...the little gifts I didn't ask for that make my day brighter and happier. This is striking me as very odd because I have no trouble accepting the little pains of life that I didn't ask for, the ones that make my day a little stormier. I blow those off with: "Oh well, that's life.")

I saw the video below several weeks ago, and have frequently thought of it ever since. Then, Snarky Mama was here and she mentioned it too. I've been thinking back on the past weeks and can't deny that God has "winked" at me more than once. I've learned my lesson. I will start acknowledging those winks; otherwise, He just might tire of winking at me. No more arguing, no more chalking it up to "the universe". I'm going to accept with gratitude and thanksgiving all that He offers, not only the "big" blessings, but the tiniest winks as well.

Please Tell Me We Get an "A" for Effort

2009-06-04T09:50:00.006-04:00

This is how scripture study and family prayer goes down at our house:

Last night, I sat on the couch next to Eleven Year Old. Immediately, Princie wanted to sit in my lap. This child NEVER wants to sit in my lap. But, seeing me cuddled on the couch with Eleven Year Old brought Princie close to panic as she squealed that she "does better" in someone's lap.

Kindly, Seven Year Old offered his lap. (This could easily be noted as mistake #1 of scripture study time) Princie hopped in his lap and proceeded to chop at Seven Year Old's legs with her "kawate hands". We told her to stop, she did (for the time being), and The Captain started reading.

The main topic of the passage was fasting. So, we took a moment to make sure Princie (since she is only 5) understood what it means to fast. I am certain Seven Year Old totally gets it because, well...he's seven. This is not a concept unfamiliar to him. And, he will be baptized in August, so surely he knows what we're talking about. Really, he knows!

Anyway, The Captain paused and I explained fasting in terms suited for young children. Seven Year Old was clearly not captivated, and had much more important things on his mind (important things like why Obama gets to use a teleprompter for speeches, but when Eleven Year Old gives his speech at the 5th grade's Simulated Congressional Hearings, he won't get to use a teleprompter...yep, that's right....scripture study wasn't on Seven Year Old's mind, but teleprompters rank top notch!)

So, we continued plugging along. No amount of interrupting, "kawate" chopping of knees and legs, laughing, etc. could stop us. We have a job to do, and darn it all, we WILL prevail! (Here I would like to mention that Snarky Mama was in attendance as she is here for a visit. Did she help you ask? That would be a NO, she just sat back in the recliner and enjoyed the show, relishing the moment.)

After reading, and several explanations of fasting, the rest of our time went like this:

The Captain: Princie, what did you learn tonight?
Princie: No talking during scriptures.

Me: Seven Year Old, why do we fast?
Seven Year Old: Because the food might be poisonous.
Me: Oh come on, I just told you 50 times why we fast.
Seven Year Old: Maybe the bad person put poison in your food, so don't eat it.

Let's try that again, I think to myself.

Me: When we fast, we save the money that we would have spent on our food, and we give it to others who need food.
Seven Year Old: Soooo, we're losing money, not saving money. We lose money when we fast.

Ok, count me as D-O-N-E, DONE!

The Captain to Snarky Mama: Nana, what did you learn tonight?
Eleven Year Old: That she never wants to have scripture study with us again.

The Captain: Everybody kneel down for prayer, please. Princie would you say the prayer for us?
Princie says the prayer.
After the amens, Seven Year Old begins to clap.
The Captain: Hey buddy, thanks for being nice to your sister, but we want to be reverent and we don't really clap after prayers.
Seven Year Old: Well, why not? She's good at it.

Okay then. See you tomorrow night...same time, same place.

The Sanctity of Life

2009-06-01T09:39:00.010-04:00

You know how I feel about partial birth abortion. The very thought of someone being able to leave a baby, on a cold table in a dark room, to die disgusts me. The thought of a physician (who took an oath to "first do no harm") being capable of taking the life of an infant who survived an abortion sickens me. It makes my heart literally ache.

Some have called Dr. George Tiller courageous. I could not disagree more vehemently. No one will ever convince me that performing partial birth abortions is an act of courage. I can think of many men and women who are, in fact, courageous....George Tiller will never be on that list. I believe he broke the law each time he performed a partial birth abortion. That said, I am saddened by his recent murder. I don't believe this man "deserved to die". I don't believe his family deserves the sorrow that has now been inflicted upon them. I believe that life is sacred, every life...not just the lives of those who believe as I do and make choices I feel are appropriate.

It's heartbreaking that the debate between pro-life and pro-choice advocates is often played out in a theatre of war. In our passion and drive to protect innocent babies, as well as their mothers (who most probably face circumstances we can not comprehend), we must move with compassion and love. Taking a doctor's life will never bring back the hundreds of thousands taken through abortion. Taking the life of George Tiller will neither end abortion, nor open the hearts of those who believe it's acceptable to leave a baby to die....a baby that was born alive in spite of the act meant to take his or her little life. However, taking the life of George Tiller will leave yet another family in despair. It will further the divide between those who are pro-life and those who are pro-choice. This war will continue to rage on. I sincerely wish the debate could be conducted with understanding and compassion, as opposed to ridicule and malice. And I'm referring to those on both sides of the divide.

My dear blogger friend, Laretha at Beauty Unveiled, wrote a thought-provoking post yesterday. You can read it here. A quote she posted struck me. This is from Representative Scott Schwab of Kansas: "I think Tiller was a law-breaker, but this is not how you win...you win by winning hearts, not by stopping them from beating."

How true is that statement? While I don't believe we have the power to change hearts, I do believe we can win hearts with love, we can soften hearts with compassion. God can change hearts that are soft and willing. How much in this world could be turned around if we attempted to win hearts before stopping them from beating? I can't say for certain, but I'm all for giving it a try. What I do know is that giving it a try couldn't hurt. It really couldn't hurt.

Daily Dose of Courage

2009-05-26T10:15:00.004-04:00

It's here. The end of the school year, with its mad dash to cram in every activity, program, project and ceremony imaginable. My kids don't get out of school until June 19th, and we move the very next week. There is something requiring our attendance and/or attention almost every single day until then. I'm not gonna lie...I feel like I am scrambling to keep my head above water. No need to list everything because any of you reading this know exactly what I mean. Most people I know are busy and overwhelmed. Lately, I actually have to remind myself to breathe deeply and remain calm...it's as though I'm constantly on the verge of panic. I feel like I'm frantically bustling around all the time. It's not a pretty sight.

This has led me to think a lot about courage. Courage to face new chapters in life. To face the daily batterings of stress and tasks. Sometimes I wish courage came in pill form. I could take it each morning with my Synthroid. But then, I guess courage would lose some of its value if we could simply swallow it with water. Instead, I need to breathe slowly and deeply, spend more time on my knees, read my scriptures, and remember that everything will slow down soon enough. Maybe I can even enjoy this crazy chaos? Is that possible? I'm not sure, but I'll give it at try.

During the next few weeks, I won't be here in this spot as often as I'd like to be. I won't be leaving you as many comments as I wish I could. Can you forgive me? Thanks. Even though my time in blog world will be extremely limited, I'm always sending happy thoughts of love, peace, and hope your way! Don't forget that. And now, I leave you with some of my favorite courage quotes:

"Courage is to feel the daily daggers of relentless steel and keep on living." ~Douglas Malloch

"Courage doesn't always roar. Sometimes courage is the quiet voice at the end of the day that says: I will try again tomorrow." ~Mary Ann Radmacher

"The most difficult of decisions are often not the ones in which we cannot determine the correct course, rather the ones in which we are certain of the path but fear the journey." ~The Locket, by Richard Paul Evans

Reality

2009-05-22T16:41:00.013-04:00

It's hard to know what to make of "reality" television. I'll never believe people behave in front of cameras just as they would if no one was watching, taping, intruding. "Reality" t.v. is a fantastic distraction (as my last post clearly shows). But the truth is, it's not even close to reality.

I have a favor to ask. This Memorial Day weekend, as you enjoy activities with family and friends, could you please take some time to remember the reality of war? And I'm not talking about the politics of it all. I'm talking about something of far greater importance....the willingness of one human to sacrifice his/her life for another. If I could wish a dream of mine into reality, we would have no need for defense, no reason to send our men and women into harm's way. But not all wishes come true, do they?

I believe in God's word, the Bible. Through my scripture study, I have learned that true peace will come to this Earth only when Christ returns. The battles mortal men have fought for centuries will not be solved with weapons and armies. That's reality. But another part of reality is that we protect ourselves and those who are defenseless. We shouldn't allow innocent people to suffer at the hands of horrible dictators. We should offer protection from tyrants like Hitler. Offer the hope of freedom to those who are oppressed. Offer protection from those who thrive on enslaving their countrymen, if not with iron shackles, then with the figurative shackles of fear, hunger, poverty and lack of education. That is reality. I hate war. I wish that tyrants and genocidal maniacs could be "talked down". I wish we could help others without the price of pain or suffering. I wish that it could be done in a neat and tidy manner. But, that isn't the case. And I can't stomach thoughts of mankind sitting idly by while others are tormented and treated mercilessly.

I sincerely appreciate those who voluntarily serve their country. I admire their willingness to defend the defenseless. I am in awe of their ability to place others above themselves. It isn't my place to judge the reasons why a person joins the military. I am just thankful for the job they do. I'm disgusted by anyone who dares to cast stones at the men and women who serve this country so selflessly. These soldiers earned our respect the moment they signed up to do a job that most of us can't begin to fathom. Regardless of how you feel about war, the bottom line is, you can have an opinion about war because someone was willing to stand up for you.

Many people have forgotten what Memorial Day truly means. It's not about cook-outs and trips to the beach. It's not about the start of summer or a day off work. It's about the fact that we have opportunities to enjoy those things, thanks to the sacrifices of others. It's a day to show reverence and respect for those who have paid the ultimate price for us. We owe a debt of gratitude that can not be repaid. At the very least, we can take time this weekend to focus on reality, rather than the multitude of distractions posing as "reality".

Snarky Mama: EXPOSED!

2009-05-21T08:19:00.016-04:00

Snarky Mama and I don't always agree. Are you shocked? It happens. There are times when you'd think the two of us come from entirely different universes. In fact, we've had heated conversations about a lot of things that really matter. Things like why I believe she should live on more than just water, Diet Coke and a few slices of bacon (yes TuTu's Bliss, you and Snarky Mama are both lovers of the bacon). We also really get into it when it comes to her undying loyalty to people who, quite frankly, treat her like crap more often than not. That's for another day. And, we don't always agree on religion even though we belong to the same church.

Today, I'm going to share something big...I mean really big. A difference of opinion that could shake the very core of our relationship. American Idol. I'm okay with the outcome. Snarky Mama? Well, not so much.

From the beginning, my mom was as Adam Lambert fan. In the beginning, I was indifferent. But as time went on, the guy grew on me. He grew on me because I truly appreciate art as well as outstanding performers. Adam Lambert is by far the most amazing "artist" to ever step foot on the American Idol stage. I get it. But, I still wasn't a fan. (To tell you the truth, nobody this season really won me over, no one made me want to vote....not like Chris Daughtry did....oh Daughtry, those were the good 'ol days. The days when I would dial until my finger was numb.) I appreciate art, but that doesn't mean I'm drawn to all kinds.

Ok, back to this season. I liked Matt Giraud. Snarky Mama really couldn't stand the guy. She mentioned a mole or something ridiculous like that, I don't know...but good grief woman, how shallow can you be? Week after week she went on and on about this Lambert kid. She even resorted to incessantly emailing Eleven Year Old, in an effort to brainwash him. Bad, bad Nana.

Like I said, I know Adam Lambert is a gifted artist. The guy is an unbelievable performer. I thoroughly enjoyed watching him. But, I don't care for the scream, and I'm not in love with falsetto. Also, I don't like ~~eyeliner on guys~~ guyliner (even when my beloved Daughtry wears it, I don't like it). I find it distracting. It's just not my thing. Moles aren't really my thing either, but I (unlike Snarky Mama) am not shallow. Not liking someone because of a mole=shallow. Finding guyliner distracting=a simple observation.

But forget the cosmetics of it all, I actually prefer the voice of Matt Giraud (except for when he used his falsetto too much, and not very well). But, he sings and that's what American Idol is about. I know Adam Lambert is a fantastic performer, I just don't think his voice is as great as his stage skills are. And let's face it, when I play a song on my iPod, I'm not seeing the performance. It's all about how the notes hit my ears. And I prefer notes to be sung, not screamed at me. But Snarky Mama? Well, she's ALWAYS going to go with whoever has the best stage presence, outfits, hair, nails, and makeup...regardless of the talent. Ughhh, how can a person be so superficial? Especially my own mother! I thought I taught her better. This hurts, it really hurts.

I can only think of one way to help my mother. Today the truth must be revealed. Today, I expose the basis of my mother's Lambert obsession. It all boils down to one word: CHER. That's right, Snarky Mama loves Adam Lambert not for who he is, but for who she thinks he can become. You see, my mother's world will be rocked (and not in the good way) when Cher leaves this earth. Before this season of AI, if my mother had outlived Cher, it wouldn't have been pretty. But now she can sleep peacefully. Never fear because she's found Adam Lambert! I don't know if this means Cher is manly or Lambert is womanly, and I don't really care either. (But if you think about it, they are oddly similar. Really, go ahead. Think about it...because what else do you have to think about? This stuff matters people!)

Your dirty little secret is out Snarky Mama. You don't care about Adam. Stop masquerading as some lover of Adam Lambert. You don't love him for who he is. You love him for who you want him to become. You are a sad, sick little woman and I hope you get the help you need.

P. freakin S.
Oh I can't stand it when I have to come back and explain myself with a p.s. Since this post, and since Snarky Mama's scathing comment, she and I have talked. FOR THE RECORD...I am NOT judging Adam by his guyliner! I haven't judged the kid at all. Seriously, I respect that he took the show to a whole new level. I enjoyed watching as he did it! Also, I never said I thought Kris Allen was a better singer or performer. He's not, and I find his facial expressions absolutely painful to watch. I just said, while I appreciate Adam's gifted artistry, it doesn't draw me in as far as music goes. None of them really drew me in this season.

Snarky Mama wants me to be clear that she loves Adam for Adam, not for who he reminds her of. And look, I had no idea there was some WHACKED OUT "Christian movement" on behalf of Kris. I find that disgusting and just plain STUPID. I don't care if Adam is straight, gay, or goes both ways. I don't care is Kris is straight, gay, or goes both ways. I watch AI for entertainment purposes only. I don't watch in hopes of finding my kids' next role model. So, I'm sorry Snarky Mama if some people didn't vote for your precious Adam based on their self-righteous judgements. But, don't throw me in that camp. If I had known that was happening, I probably would've voted for him just to spite the "movement". So there. And get this, Snarky Mama says I'm in "Adam denial". What? She says I'm the one with the problem. I'm beginning to think we both need help!

She Wasn't Briefed on the Briefing

2009-05-18T07:03:00.016-04:00

Poor wittle Nancy Wancy...did those big, bad, nasty CIA bullies mislead you?

Nancy, Nancy, Nancy, you don't read my blog do you? Months ago I mentioned you were going to have to stop whining and blaming. Learn to form coherent sentences besides your standards: "Bush lied." , "The Bush administration misled me.", etc. While those statements contain truth, when that's all you have to offer, you become less than credible...and you don't sound too smart either.

Look Nancy, I never wanted you to fail. I never wanted you to be such a colossal embarrassment. I simply wanted you to put your big girl panties on and get the job done. But repeatedly you do nothing more than point your finger at others, regurgitate your Bush-bashing rhetoric (which let's face it, takes little to no original thought), and stare blankly like Bambi in headlights.

Why didn't you take notes back in 2003? During those meetings, when you were so cruelly misled, it never crossed your mind to jot a few things down? Bummer for you, because the CIA did. Oopsy! I mean great, big oopsy! Big girls, in big girl panties,we know to always take notes! I don't make one phone call regarding my household without jotting down notes! You run the biggest House around, and you don't feel the need for notes? Interesting.

Big girls, in big girl panties, also know you might want to be careful when you say things like: "I knew about waterboarding in 2003." Ouch, how badly did that sting when it came back to bite you in the butt? If you felt so misled, why in the world didn't you mention that LAST week when you made the above remark? In your haste to attack the Bush administration and begin some torture investigation, you spouted off with: "I knew about waterboarding in 2003." Once you felt some heat, your handlers told you to come back with statements like: they misled, they lied, blah-blah-blah. So let me get this straight, it took you several days after admitting to knowledge of waterboarding before realizing you felt misled. Oh, okay.

Do you even have a spine? Stand up woman! You are infuriating me! At best, you are just another politician who makes horrifically misguided decisions. If you knew in 2003, I don't care how it was presented to you...you should have done some thinking. If you are that easily misled, you need a new job! Seriously, who takes anything that comes from any government agency at face value. And, if you do, I don't want you representing me in any position. Because that means you don't have what it takes to get the job done in a respectable manner.

Nancy, I'm disappointed. From your actions I gather you thought your gender alone would be all you needed to find success. Being the first woman Speaker and the first successful woman Speaker are NOT the same things. I know about fifty women who could do your job, and do it well. I don't give a sorry rat's rearend if the Speaker is a man or a woman, I just want the job done right! It's obvious from that vacant look in your eyes, you are so far outta your league, your head is spinning.

There's no way you can pedal fast enough to fix this one. But luckily, you have spin doctors surrounding you...they do incredible work, especially when it comes to the back-pedaling part. And once again, the politicians will come out smelling like roses, another government agency (one that isn't perfect, but does help keep us safe) takes the hits, and the people left screwed are (as always) the American people.

Way to go Nancy. What exactly have you done to improve anything? Apparently you are only adding to the multitude of problems we are facing. I have some big girl panties you can borrow. Holy crap...I just figured out why you wear pull-ups! It's easier to take the sting of things biting you in the butt through the padding of a pull-up. Problem is Nancy Wancy, you are an adult! You should be accountable. You should take the sting when it's yours. If you can't do that, then you shouldn't be Speaker of any House.

Gettin' It Done

2009-05-14T11:31:00.014-04:00

(Don't miss the video below this post.)

Often I become overwhelmed when thinking about all the problems in this great big world of ours. Because really, there are times when just getting through a "normal" day is all I can do. Add to that thoughts of genocide, people starving, children with no opportunities for education, and honestly, hiding in my bedroom for the rest of my earthly existence sounds inviting. There is so much to take in, so many hurting and hopeless. What could I possibly do to make this world better? Well for starters, I have to focus on my children. I have to raise functional, open-minded, compassionate, kind human beings. And, I want them to be "thinkers". Because all the "doers" in the world began as "thinkers". Rather than becoming completely overwhelmed by all that ails this world, I can get started in my little corner. Do all that I can right here, right now....one step at a time.

While I would love to hop on a plane, and find myself in one of our world's countless aching countries armed with hope and the resources to make a difference, it's not my time. But I pray, with every fiber of my being, that one day I will have the opportunity. For now, I'll prepare myself by being a "thinker". I'll open my eyes, mind, and heart more frequently. I'll educate myself on issues, even if I can't change things. When my time does come, I'll be ready.

It's good to know there are people gettin' it done. "Doers" who most certainly began as "thinkers". My DSF (dear sister friend) Valsy introduced me to the story of some phenomenal high school students. I think you'll find Mallory and Meredith O'Malley, as well as their fellow classmates at Saint Pius X Catholic School (in Kansas City, Missouri), to be more than a little inspiring.

Did you know that Southern Sudan holds the world's largest displaced population? Due to the horrific effects of war and genocide, two generations of Southern Sudanese have no education, 85% of the population is illiterate. Currently, over 300 children do their learning under a tree in the village of Turalei. During the rainy season (May-October), there is no school. But one man would like to change all of that. Turalei is the home village of Manute Bol, a former NBA player. His goal is to build a primary school for the children of Turalei. The primary school will welcome Darfurian children and Southern Sudanese children, in an effort to show some sign of reconciliation for all of Sudan. This school will cost around $150,000 to build. Thankfully the O'Malley sisters and their classmates were up for a challenge.

Mallory and Meredith serve as co-presidents of the Letters of Compassion (L.O.C.) group at Saint Pius. The group was founded in hopes of raising awareness of world social issues such as genocide, human suffering, and poverty. In just 7 months, the L.O.C. group (with the help of their entire high school community) has raised over $8,000.00 for the Manute Bol School Project. The group has spearheaded various fundraisers such as Barnes & Noble Book Fair Partnerships, selling candy grams, student raffles, and a Spring Bazaar/Craft Fair just to name a few.

The efforts of Mallory, Meredith, and other students at Saint Pius are being recognized by True Hero. True Hero is a non-profit organization granting cash awards to schools and youth groups that sponsor service trips and activities. These cash awards help schools continue their service programs. You can cast your vote for Saint Pius' Manute Bol School Project here. While it is true that each and every project listed is doing great good, I voted for the Saint Pius project. Kansas City, Missouri will always hold a piece of my heart. It was there that I was blessed to meet amazing "thinkers" and "doers". This is my chance to honor some that I didn't have the chance to meet. Not to mention, most of the other projects have been taken on by college groups...I'm a fan of high school kids.

There is already good news. Construction of the primary school has begun, with the first purchase of a new brick press. When the O'Malley sisters were asked why Saint Pius X students are so eager to be involved with this project, this was the response:

"...five days a week we are able to attend a school with four walls and a roof...we are offered endless amounts of opportunities to insure us bright futures, in Turalei, this is unfortunately not the case." (Mallory)

"Because we believe that education is the key to a prosperous and peaceful future, this is the most meaningful gift we can possibly help give to the children in the village of Turalei." (Meredith)

Well said girls, well said.

Wait. Before you leave, check out the video. Thanks.

Miss Independent

2009-05-11T19:03:00.015-04:00

Independent. That's the box you'll find checked on my voter registration card. Some believe that makes me a fence-sitter. Let me tell you, I am no fence-sitter. Name an issue, and you will find me on one side or the other. But, what I am is a big picture kind of girl. I don't see much of this world in black and white details. I prefer my big picture in vibrant color.

The thought of drawing a line in the sand, and having to stay on either the right or the left forever (regardless of what's happening on the other side) makes me more than a little uncomfortable. I won't do it. The line was drawn years before I even entered the game. At any given moment, the team captains on each side, are making decisions for me. I don't know who these people really are, what's at their core. And what about the others, the players? Don't really know them either. I only know what they shared when they were squealing like 5 year olds: "Ooh, ooh, pick me, pick me." Why would I choose one side to stand on, regarding every issue imaginable, when I don't even know the captains and players?

I checked the Independent box because, quite frankly, I think both the Republican and Democratic parties suck...BIG TIME. I checked the Independent box because when I look at politicians, I don't see one (I mean NOT ONE) person representative of what I believe.

I checked the Independent box because on some issues I'm conservative, and on some I'm more liberal. Because Dick Cheney, Colin Powell, Bill O'Reilly and Rush Limbaugh don't speak for me. Barack Obama, Joe Biden, Keith Olbermann, Sean Penn, Nancy Pelosi and Harry Reid don't speak for me. I speak for myself. Today I woke up aggravated by these people who somehow, in their self-inflated egomaniacal worlds, believe they speak for me. They don't. Too many politicians and entertainers see this world in only black, white (and of course the almighty green).

Depending on which side of the line a person stands, they will view me as either too liberal, or too conservative. Can't win 'em all, right? I thought I'd share some of my line-crossing ideas. (Why, oh why, do I do this to myself?? Am I some sort of masochist? This could be the end of my blog. After this, I will have made people on both sides angry. Snarky Mama, you won't leave me will you?!?)

Here goes.......

Too liberal: I have been the target of religious discrimination. So I say, no prayer in school....unless we ALL get to pray. That's right. Christian, Muslim, Jew, Hindu, whatever. Some will say I'm too "tolerant", too "accepting". I've had my prayers judged by Southern Baptists my entire life. It's humiliating, and infuriating as well. I guarantee that some Southern Baptists in Mississippi would have a huge problem with prayer in school...if that prayer was being offered by a Mormon. I can make that guarantee because it's happened. I will never be a member of the self-righteous prayer police. I will never be on the side of the line that pushes for prayer in schools, but only if those prayers fit their ideas of what prayer should be. One of the most beautiful things about this nation is that it was founded on religious freedom. Our forefathers left their mother country, left all that was familiar to them, for a new start. A new start for everyone. Granted, EVERY religion has extremists and zealots. But, I don't believe those people are the majority. The LDS church has 13 Articles of Faith. One that holds great significance in my life is number 11: "We claim the privilege of worshiping Almighty God according to the dictates of our own conscience, and allow all men the same privilege, let them worship how, where, or what they may." In my life, it is a privilege to be a Christian. But, given Christ's belief in free will, how can I take the privilege of worship from someone else, just because they do it differently than I do? Or just because they have a different understanding than I do? I won't be that person. Too many hard-core Republicans are that person.

Too conservative: Our welfare system is a complete and utter disaster. It is massively flawed, and we encourage people to be dependent upon this flawed system. We do not teach skills. We don't reward hard work. We just hand out checks. It's interesting to me that the Democratic party is all about "hope", and yet I don't see evidence showing they really believe in anyone. If you believe in someone, you don't just throw money and ineffective programs at them. You teach them, you mentor them. You remind them that hard work pays off, not always immediately, but is does eventually pay. If you have hope in a person, you don't assume they can't make it without you. Instead, you teach them how to fish, and let them feed themselves. You get in there, and get your hands dirty. You don't create another ridiculous program that will be inefficiently/ineffectively run. Blindly throwing money at problems, especially when it's taxpayers and not your own, doesn't solve much. But, if you add hard work and effort to that money, you can solve a lot. Our current system sends the message that we don't believe people are smart enough, resourceful enough, or responsible enough to ever fish and feed themselves. Where is the dignity?

Too liberal/conservative: I do not believe Roe vs. Wade should be overturned. But, that belief shouldn't be misinterpreted as an endorsement of abortion. Partial-birth abortion will never be okay with me, it disgusts me. Everything about the abortion issue makes my heart break.

Too conservative/liberal: I, like Congress, believed going into Iraq was the right thing to do. NOT because I enjoy war, NOT because I want to wreak havoc, but because I believe in helping those who need help. Defending the defenseless. If we have the resources to bring members of our human family out from under the wrath of a dictator, I believe we should help. If genocide is taking place, if innocent lives are being lost and we can help, we should. That doesn't mean I'm a warmonger. I can promise you, there isn't a damn thing in Iraq that I want. And there are countless Americans who feel just as I do. The majority of us are not so Americentric as to believe we can fix all that ails the world. What we hope to do is help others who may not have the resources to help themselves. It brings tears to my eyes and makes me ill when I think that some people have a desire to, and do, profit from war. It's sickening. I also believe that when our efforts are not creating the peace we had hoped for, or when we have done all that we can do, it's time to go. Enough.

Too liberal: I am thoroughly disgusted by "old, white guys" who have cheated their way to the top, causing great misfortune to those they trampled in the process.

Too conservative: I really don't like the phrase "old, white guys" because I know more than a few. And they are some of the most charitable, compassionate, honorable men on this earth.

Too conservative: Capitalism in not the problem. GREED is the problem.

So there you have it.
I am guessing this post just confirmed what you already thought: "She really is crazy." Oh well, you were going to figure it out sooner or later. I was just hoping it would be later!

Cosmic Theater

2009-05-07T10:01:00.006-04:00

Brewing thoughts in my head, but not enough time this morning to get it all down.
So for now, I leave you with this (from Richard Paul Evans' book, Timepiece):

"There are moments, it would seem, that were created in cosmic theater where we are given strange and fantastic tests. In these times, we do not show who we are to God (for surely He must already know) but rather to ourselves."

"There is an oft-misunderstood statement: 'Misery loves company.' To some, it implies that the miserable seek to make others like unto themselves. But it is not the meaning, rather there is a universality in grief, a family of sorrow clinging to each other on the brink of the abbyss of despair....I once heard it preached that pain is the currency of salvation. If it is so, surely we have bought heaven."

Regardless of the cause(s) of your pain, know that you have company here in this spot. You can find me here...cheering you on, believing in your ability to survive, loving you.

Ta Dah!

2009-05-05T21:18:00.005-04:00

So, here it is! What do you think?
I think my Fairy BlogMother, better known as Danielle, is
FANfreakinTASTIC! Thank you so much Danielle. I can't believe your abundance of patience with me, as well as your kindness. You never made me feel as techno-challenged as I really am!

Alright people, away we go.................

(Oh, and don't forget to snag my button.)

Do You Think They'll Recognize Me?

2009-04-30T18:21:00.002-04:00

This blog is currently undergoing a makeover! A big, beautiful, so-completely-my-style, kind of makeover! And I am telling you, it's exciting!

Lighten Up People

2009-04-29T11:28:00.007-04:00

If you read my blog (regardless of political party) you most likely have a sense of humor. So come on, you know you want to laugh!

Can We Resurrect Common Sense?

2009-04-23T10:54:00.009-04:00

On my profile page, I've mentioned that I have an interest in unlocking the mystery of where in this world Common Courtesy, and Common Sense have gone.
I've been searching for them, desperately trying to find them, trying to understand why they left our society in the first place.
I haven't given up in my efforts to find Common Courtesy and bring her out of hiding, but sadly it looks as though there's no hope for Common Sense.
Maybe we could resurrect him? What do you think?

(a big shout out goes to cutie patootie Hunter Bug for posting this on her blog...I LOVE a smart teen with a sense of humor!)

Today we mourn the passing of a beloved old friend, Common Sense, who has been with us for many years. No one knows for sure how old he was, since his birth records were long ago lost in bureaucratic red tape.

He will be remembered as having cultivated such valuable lessons as: knowing when to come in out of the rain, why the early bird gets the worm, life isn't always fair, and maybe it was my fault.

Common Sense lived by simple, sound financial policies (don't spend more than you can earn) and reliable strategies (adults, not children, are in charge). His health began to deteriorate rapidly when well-intentioned but overbearing regulations were set in place. Reports of a 6-year-old boy charged with sexual harassment for kissing a classmate; teens suspended from school for using mouthwash after lunch; and a teacher fired for reprimanding an unruly student, only worsened his condition.

Common Sense lost ground when parents attacked teachers for doing the job that they themselves had failed to do in disciplining their unruly children. It declined even further when schools were required to get parental consent to administer sun lotion or an aspirin to a student; but could not inform parents when a student became pregnant and wanted to have an abortion.

Common Sense lost the will to live as the churches became businesses and criminals received better treatment than their victims. Common Sense took a beating when you couldn't defend yourself from a burglar in your own home and the burglar could sue you for assault.

Common Sense finally gave up the will to live after a woman failed to realize that a steaming cup of coffee was hot. She spilled a little in her lap and was promptly awarded a huge settlement.

Common Sense was preceded in death by:
his parents, Truth and Trust
by his wife, Discretion
by his daughter, Responsibility
and by his son, Reason

He is survived by his 4 stepbrothers:
I Know My Rights
I Want It Now
Someone Else Is To Blame
and, I'm A Victim

Not many attended his funeral because so few realized he was gone.

~Author Unknown

A Library Kind of Day

2009-04-21T20:38:00.005-04:00

Ok, I admit it. I don't visit the library often enough. Why? Because it's like some freaky time warp when I get in there. I go in thinking I'll be there thirty minutes tops. (That's how I plan to do it...wham bam, thank you for the books library maam.) But inevitably, by the time I leave, 3 or MORE hours have passed. I think I need to go more often. Princie is A.MAZ.ING.LY calm and happy there. Me too.

It's no secret I want to go back to school. Maybe I should be a librarian? But, I'll have to let my hair grow because it's too short for the whole sexy bun thing...and, I don't need glasses but I know Target sells some super cool fake ones. I have some stilettos, and a pencil skirt (never mind that it's too small...I could work on that while I'm in school). Yep, that's my image of a librarian. If I were going to be one.

It's a 15 minute drive to the library. Around 8 minutes in, I realized Princie had not stopped talking for even one of those minutes. I am serious, I don't know how she does it. I wonder how she even breathes. Anyway, at minute 9, this was the conversation....

Me: Hey, I have an idea. What if we just listen to music and enjoy the ride.

Princie: I am enjoying the ride.

Me: Yes, I know. But how about just thinking about the ride instead of telling me all about it.

Princie: Nahhhh. That's a bad idea.

I turn up the radio. John Mayer's "Say What You Need to Say" is playing. Princie begins singing along...if you've heard the song, you know it's mostly Mayer repeating the words "say what you need to say".

Princie: Now that's a great idea. I like his idea much better than yours.

Then she begins singing: I'm gonna say what I need to say, say what I need to say, say what I need to say, say what I need to say..........

And on and on she went for the next 5 minutes.

Thanks John Mayer. Thanks for your great idea.

A Tribute to the Real Life Steel Magnolias

2009-04-19T13:53:00.009-04:00

I could go on and on about this 10 minute clip. But really, my words are not necessary. Every second of the clip is pure and true to life. It's all there: sadness, grief, sorrow, anger, judgement, passion, friendship, empathy, joy, laughter, peace, redemption, forgiveness, fear, love, and hope for the future....just like the lives of each and every one of us...regardless of the struggles we face.

And yes, there are times in this blogging world when I feel a bit like Ouiser...people would really like to take a punch at me and have a tshirt boasting that they did. Oh well, it's okay. I don't mind takin' a few hits for team Steel Magnolias.

Snarky Belle

Dividing Lines

Who Knew?

If You Say It, You Better Mean It

Heavy Heart

Dear Victoria,

Homecoming

Open Letter to Ms. Aniston

Alone...Not Always a Bad Place to Be

Let Freedom Ring

Good Things to Come

One Day

Who Wants Mac & Cheese?

Just Tell the Truth

A New Perspective

Can You Spare a Moment?

Helping People Help Themselves

I've Sunk to the Level of Spewing...and it is not pretty

I Am That Mother

A Break in the Clouds

Apparently I'm Predictable

Thanks Are in Order

Anybody Got My Back?

I Say Booooo to Mean People

Assumptions

People Make Me Laugh

Why Spring Hasn't Sprung

Easy Does It

Thoughts on Sir Isaac's Laws

11-11-2009

Heavy Heart

Confessions on a Sunday

Live and Let Live

Another Road Less Traveled

Blessings and a "Hilarious" Girl

*Sigh*

Gasp! Oh My! What The?!?

Promises

Thanks for the Smile

A Lifeline

A Breather

Mmmmm, Kool Aid Tastes Goooood

And So It Begins.....

Defensive....Who Me?

And It Makes Me Wonder

Partisan Politics...Clear as Mud

Lost, Found, and Failing

Christopher

Prayers

Grains of Sand in My Swimsuit, Part 4

Can't Quite Catch Up

This Post is Entirely Too Long

Signing Off for Now

Pathetic

Janet Has Spoken...I Hope Someone Listens

Princie's Puzzle Peace

Peace of Mind

Open Eyes, Shut Mouth

Please Tell Me We Get an "A" for Effort

The Sanctity of Life

Daily Dose of Courage

Reality

Snarky Mama: EXPOSED!

She Wasn't Briefed on the Briefing

Gettin' It Done

Miss Independent

Cosmic Theater

Ta Dah!

Do You Think They'll Recognize Me?

Lighten Up People

Can We Resurrect Common Sense?

A Library Kind of Day

A Tribute to the Real Life Steel Magnolias

Sigh