Aaaaaaahhhhh!

How can something this cute (I know, I am biased) WHINE so very, very much?

It is incessant. It is relentless. It is SO very distracting.

Does it end? Will it ever get better?

My sweet , and usually very pleasant daughter Journey has been 'napped by aliens and in her place they have left me a mere physical replica of her former self. This new little person WHINES constantly. Really, it compares to fingernails down a chalkboard, really.

I have been told it is a phase, it is a girl thing (which I can actually believe b/c my boys did not act this way EVER), she will outgrow it, to ignore it (yeah, THAT works).

I fear I cannot handle one more day of this noise. This squeaking! Anywhere and everywhere!

Please tell me that this too shall pass...

It will won't it?

Sport-a-phobia

Yesterday I watched my downstairs neighbor/mom load her children into her mini-van. Along with all the kids, she threw in a cooler, two bags of balls, helmets, pads and other sport-related paraphenalia.
As I watched, I wondered. Is it really worth it to have your children involved in sports? What does it really teach them in the long run? I do support some of the things children can learn while involved in organized sports such as teamwork and sportsmanship, because those virtues will actually be uselful later in life and can be applied in other areas, but overall I find sports to be physically, emotionally, and financially draining for children. I feel like they could be using their time in other ways, alongside their parents to instill more important values than what they are learning while running around on a field. I know, I am in an apparent minority.

Over the years, I have allowed Jacob to try different sports; he has played baseball, basketball, and soccer and I have found that after the first few practices/games he was already feeling frustrated at his performance (even if it was great) and not wanting to go to practices. Not to mention the time it took away from our family time while we were hauling him all over three or four days a week to games and such, sometimes not arriving home until after 8, which in my home, if you were born of me you better be tucked in and on your way to Sleepy's House by 8 pm. He was often tired in school the following day and his grades definitely suffered during these times.

I struggle now with deciding whether or not to allow my sons to play fall ball because we are surrounded by neighbors who place all their worth on how far their little boys can throw a football or how many baskets he can shoot. I don't want my boys to feel left out but at the same time I do not want to foster in them that they must be always trying to be better, faster, quicker on the field. My sons feel like they are missing out on something special. It is understandable from a child's point of view, that, for the most part, it is fun to play sports.
I argue that we should look at the state of our educational system, the worth we place on athletes and sporting events vs. academic ability. This starts at such a young age; some sports allow for the child to begin playing at age 3 (!!) and goes on into the professional arena with NBA and NFL.
As I see it, I would much rather pay for instumental lessons or perhaps even Martial Arts (though this would greatly depend on the instructor), as I feel it engages other parts of the brain and teaches something other than competition and rivalry.
I watch my neighbor when she returns from a game with her children (boys and girls). She is exuberant and jubilent if they have won thereby, in my opinion, sending the message that winning matters. If their team has lost, she is scolding and reprimanding them all the way down the walk and still after the door closes behind her. It would appear that she places her worth as a mother on how well her kids can perform and outplay. The looks on the kids' faces are of utter defeat and misery. How can that be good for a child?

I place my worth as a mother on how respectful and mannered my children are, how well they can READ, watching them handle responsibility effectively, etc. I feel like, when my son is in the 8th grade, if he still can't remember to bring/do his HW without me nagging on him, I have failed in teaching him what he really needs to know to survive in the real world--to think and do for himself. Accountability and consequences--of the natural variety.
I still don't know what we will ultimately decide to do this fall, but I guarantee, I would be happy with guitar lessons and Spanish lessons. Jacob and Max, that is a different story entirely.

Let me emphasize that I am not in any way saying that kids don't need exercise, and of course some parents have their children involved in sports for that reason. I just feel like exercise can definitely come from another way than in competition.

A trip to the zoo...NO ONE would stand still long enough for me to get a group shot, they literally turned and ran when I brought the camera out, but these were kinda cute, so I figured i would go ahead and post them.

Serenity tried with all her little might to climb every single fence she could reach, and almost made it a couple of times! Her brother Max was always nearby, as he often has been since the day she was born, reaching out a hand to help his baby sister. If you notice, he is standing next to her in all three pictures.

NO Coffee makers allowed

I must have coffee. I love coffee, fresh perfect coffee and cannot begin my day with out a steaming hot cup of the stuff. I crave the feel of the cup in my hands, the aroma is so enticing, and my mood melts as I sit with this first cup of coffee in the morning.

Coffee drinkers, listen up!
I am about to share with you the secret to fresh, spectacular coffee and I guarantee that once you take the time to fix a cup using this method, if you haven't already done so, you will end your relationship with your coffee maker.

Ingredients:
coffee, flavored if desired
TEAPOT (any kind of teapot--you just need something to boil water)
1 coffee basket (this is a plastic cup that holds the filter and coffee and sits on top of the cup)and can be purchased at any kitchen gadget store, most supermarkets, some specialty stores
coffee filter
spoon
cup

Ok.
Boil the water
Next, you need to scoop your fresh coffee grounds (grind your own beans if you have the apparatus) into the filter that should be nicely tucked into the coffee basket, which is sitting on top of your cup.

As the water reaches the temperature you prefer, slowly pour it through the coffee basket that is resting nicely on top of your cup. Be aware, the larger the basket, the faster the flow and the cup will fill quickly!
Add cream, sugar, or whatever to taste and there you go!

That is all there is to it. Having a fresh cup of coffee is paramount to optimum taste of the coffee and good health benefits.
If you can achieve the desired result, and that may take a couple times because of determining the strength of the coffee when dealing with single-serve, it is worth the extra time it may require.
Trust me, this is better than any coffee that comes from a coffee-urn, or from a pot that has been sitting on a burner for hours. Not only does old coffee taste terrible, it is harmful to your body. The longer coffee sits on a warmer, burner, or hot plate, the more acid builds up in the coffee and the detriment is extensive to your body over time.
It is worth the extra few minutes! Try it out!

My New Friend

This week, I made a new friend.
We have a special connection,
though she can't see very well,
and no conversations can we have
well, the kind with words anyway.

Her eyes are deep and mystified
she often misses my gaze,
my focus, but not my intent, mind you.

My new friend will never be like me, but
I wish to be like she,
so simple and free-minded.

My new friend is full of love and
trust, for that has not
yet been violated and she feels
safe, for now, in this Big Scary world.

My new friend, you see,
is but three
She is pure of heart and
loves to sing.
She gives hugs away and
likes to cuddle and play,


My friend, she is innocent, and vulnerable
and forever will be different,
for she isn't like the rest,
she is special and fragile,
sweet Emily.

This week I have had the ultimate priveledge to work in a classroom with children with special needs. I wrote this about the little girl I have been taking care of who has Down Syndrome. Her name is Emily. She has touched my heart in a special way and I wish to express my deep admiration for the people that work with these kids everyday.
It truly takes an enormous amount of patience and dedication to spend the day caring for these children; not only tending toward their outstanding physical needs, but their extraordinary emotional needs as well. They are fragile, these babies, and my heart both aches and sings for them.

Pioneer Mom v. Millenium Mom

When I was younger I enjoyed reading the stories about Pioneer women and their families--both true stories and fiction.
I was endlessly fascinated by all the hard labor these women had to do on a daily basis. Like how they had to carry their water from the creek and boil it to perform basic tasks such as washing clothes and cooking. I loved how they wore bonnets and rode around in Horse buggies and stagecoaches. Shopping at a mercantile sounded like so much fun. Everyone had a defined role in the family, children included, and at the end of the day the family would gather for the evening meal around a wooden table they built themselves. No one family member moved far away and everyone gathered together often. People helped each other without question. The comeraderie intrigued me; it all seemed so fullfilling and worthwhile somehow.
While reading these stories, I wanted to be them. I could almost feel the hot prarie wind blowing across my sun-drenched skin, I could smell the fire burning and hear the kettle simmering, I could hear the rythmic galloping of horses feet--you get the point. I was immersed in these worlds throughout most of my adolescence--yes I was a goody goody in many ways, but it did not matter. Give me a fireplace and a pioneer book any day--even today. The conclusion of a book I had been completely swallowed up in was like the passing of a dear friend. Sometimes, if it was an especially long book or I had become "attached" to the characters, I would be depressed for days after reading the last page and feel ..well, lost.
My favorite series then was Janette Oke's Love Comes Softly series, which ironically is now being made into movies. I have read those books hundreds of times. Their covers are tattered, their pages bent and worn. Call me wierd, but I refuse to watch these movies, so attached am I to my coveted memories of all the characters and their faces in my own mind. If i were to sit down and watch these movies, part of my youth would slip away never to be seen again the same way and I just couldn't handle it!

Now grown and a mother to my own four children, I ponder what it must have been like in those times when women had nothing at their fingertips--even had to make their own soap for washing, had to work hard for anything and everything--everyday, had many children to tend to at once (not to mention birthing them without pain relief)while performing all of their daily hard-labor tasks, sometimes spent months without husband while he left in search of work, had no access to medicine when one of their children became ill,etc.
If I were to sit down and read all these books again as a mother, would I still wish to be raising my children in the pioneer days? Would I trade all the comforts of now for that simpler, seemingly more rewarding way of life? Conversely, could a pioneer mother/wife last in today's society with all of its comforts but also with the associated dangers? Perhaps not.

An interesting experiment it would be for certain. To take just one day and try to do what we have to do everyday (washing, cooking, tending to children) without any assistance of electricity, running water, medicine, TV, refrigerator, etc. In fact, given the arrangement of our world we probably could not even do this experiment without traveling outside the city to a remote cabin somewhere...but, how interesting it would be to challenge ourselves.

Babies and Puppies

A friend of mine at work "needs a baby".
...She says.
Actually she does really want a baby.
I tell her I have four and she can borrow a couple whenever she feels the urge to Mommy.
She just laughs.
As if.

Babies. Ahhhhh. Babies.
They are so wonderfully exquisite, aren't they? The way their fuzzy heads smell, the soft delicateness of their skin, the tiny baby noises, the perfectness of their itsy-bitsy toes and fingers...ahhhhh. Love it.

Thinking back, I know how I felt before I had my first one (I might add here that I didn't think I would actually have more than one--who knew--and, God bless 'em, I love 'em but I certainly do not want any more) I didn't think that I would ever get pregnant. It took almost a year before Jacob was conceived, which I later learned is not out of the ordinary for a first pregnancy ( my other three pregnancies took me by complete surprise and utter shock).
During that fretful year, all I noticed was people's babies, all the adorable baby items and clothes in every store I went into, the babies in restaurants, in strollers--you get my point. I was infatuated with becoming a mother and it overtook my life, which in all reality is probably why it took so long to get pregnant.

Finally, in July of 1997 we found ourselves merrily on our way to parenthood--buying baby booties and blankets and all the cute stuff first-time parents must have for their babies. Grandmas and Nanas were excited, Papas were getting used to the idea of becoming Papas, aunts and uncles were anxious.
Then it happened.
We actually had a baby and brought him home.
Whoa.
A whirlwind of emotions surrounded us then and all parents can relate I am sure. We weren't prepared for anything that happened. ALL the books were wrong and we had to find our own way. We grew up very quickly.
Well, I take back the 'We'.
I grew up and grabbed the reigns of a relationship that would become frighteningly rocky over the next few years and through the births of three more children. But that is a post for a different day.

Because right now I am writing about babies and what it is like to have your first one. All the feelings of wonder and awe along with the fears and worries that are present for a new Mommy and how those feeling evolve and relax with each subsequent baby so that now, with my fourth baby turning 2, I am such a different parent than I was when my first baby was turning 2.

With Serenity, I have certainly not fretted over the little things like pacifiers falling on the floor or buying the most expensive diapers, or worrying about why my baby refuses to eat her puree'd peas (my life is essentially a LUVs diaper commercial in case anyone was wondering) . I know the importance of a little extra cuddle time and don't freak out if naptime is a little bit later one afternoon. When Serenity was tiny, I held her. As much or as little as she demanded. Many new parents seem to take this to the extreme one way or another I have noticed--either holding the baby all the time or only when performing routines such as feeding or changing for fear of 'spoiling' the infant. I think with the first baby it is so easy to be swayed by the advice of other parents that it can be so hard to tune into your own baby. I don't think I learned to 'tune into' my baby until baby # 3.
As I approach the 10th anniversary of my induction into parenthood (my son would rather refer to this monumental occassion as his 10th birthday--selfish little bugger) I feel somewhat seasoned. I feel ready to offer advice to my friend, who needs a baby.
I want to tell her, I want to prepare her, but I know that a Mom is truly not prepared and can't be. It is a right-of-passage.
Babies are cute. They are cuddly. They are so much fun to dress up.
But they grow up, like puppies, and some days the cute factor will not soothe your irritation.
You will love the hugs that come from little arms wrapped around your neck.
You will crave hearing the little voice call "Mommy"
You will falter sometimes and do things that will hurt your child's feelings.
You won't always make the best decisions.
BUT,
One day you will be sailing along through normalities, in and out of routines, and it will hit you.
You are a Mom.
You are someone's MOM.
And in that moment, that very moment, you will feel like you are walking on air.
Because that is the most important you will ever feel in your life.
Then you will step on a Lego and curse the blessed little rugrat.

Superstore Madness

I hate the Superstore.

I concede that I do understand the concept behind the Superstore. Bigger. Faster. but...Better? In theory, it could work. But like many theories, the Superstore idea should have gone no further than the drawing board. Of course, in our BIG America, we are so driven (many people anyway) to be faster, better, bigger (obviously) and have everything as convenient as possible. Down to not even rotating our own lollipops IN OUR MOUTHS now because there is an apparatus (sold at said Superstore) that will do this task for you. Yes, I am quite serious.

I love the idea of shopping and getting all of my sh*t in one place WHEN I have all of my children chompin' at the bit. Then, and only then, does the Superstore possess the capability to be an asset. AND many, many variables can upset or compromise an otherwise workable situation.
For example, the self check which rarely performs its electronic checker-duty as it should, or the employee who can't WALK HER ASS(to fix afore-mentioned problem with self-check machine) over to my lane without talking to every person she meets and swinging her keys around, and the fact that often the items I need aren't even on the shelf anyways.
For the most part it is strictly on an enemy basis that the Superstore and I co-exist in this mad, frantic world. "I miss Mayberry, sitting on the porch drinking ice cold cherry Coke..." (that song is drifting across the airwaves right now and seemed appropriate for me to bring up). I seem to be quite nostalgic lately. Huh. And I did not grow up in Mayberry or even in that time era-but still.

Anyway, I find the Superstore to be something that will fade with time as we realize that convenience has a price and most of us aren't willing to sacrifice sanity to purchase our socks alongside our Soymilk. I have promised myself that I will not go back to dreaded Superstore for a LONG time-if ever. Apparently for the person in charge of the ordering at this store, coffee is hard to come by, as is Rasin Bran, Neutrogena Shampoo and Crest toothpaste. Seems to me these are staple items of ANY store, but ESPECIALLY the Superstore.

Seems paradoxical to me. Yes, the Superstore offers the idea that everything can be bought under one roof, yet the most basic of items are repeatedly unavailable.
Super Store?...I think not.

Why parents drink!

I received this by email the other day and found it amusing:

>Why Parents Drink
>
>A boss wondered why one of his most valued employees had not phoned in
>sick one day. Having an urgent problem with one of the main computers,
>he dialed the employee's home phone number and was greeted with a
>child's whisper.
>
>"Hello?"
>
>"Is your daddy home?" he asked.
>
>"Yes," whispered the small voice.
>
>May I talk with him?"
>
>The child whispered, "No,"
>
>Surprised and wanting to talk with an adult, the boss asked, "Is your
>Mommy there?"
>
>"Yes,"
>
>"May I talk with her?"
>
>Again the small voice whispered, "No,"
>
>Hoping there was somebody with whom he could leave a message, the boss
>asked, "Is anybody else there?"
>
>"Yes," whispered the child, "a policeman".
>
>Wondering what a cop would be doing at his employee's home, the boss
>asked, "May I speak with the policeman?"
>
>"No, he's busy" whispered the child.
>
>"Busy doing what?"
>
>"Talking to Daddy and Mommy and the Fireman," came the whispered answer.
>
>Growing more worried as he heard a loud noise in the background through
>the earpiece on the phone, the boss asked, "What is that noise?"
>
>"A helicopter" answered the whispering voice.
>
>"What is going on there?" demanded the boss, now truly apprehensive.
>
>Again, whispering, the child answered, "The search team just landed a
>helicopter,"
>
>Alarmed, concerned and a little frustrated the boss asked, "What are
>they searching for?"
>
>Still whispering, the young voice replied with a muffled giggle...
>
>"Me."

Baby's Graduation

Baby's First time sitting at the Big Table!


Yep. Way more playing this evening than usually!

Span of Time

Ever notice how much today's generation of children expect? I mean really expect?
Let me explain:

1)When my brother and I were growing up, a meal at McDonalds was seldom. And we did not ask for it, we were offered the opportunity (and of course happliy agreed!) The happy meal toy was a little plastic trinket and it certainly did not make noise or light up, but we were thrilled with it anyway as I remember. Today, if my children are given something similar, they don't appreciate it at all and expect something different. It is a challenge for parents these days to drive past a fast food joint and not have the kids yelling for something. (little tip, watch the movies 'Fast Food Nation' and 'Supersize Me' and I guarantee that it will be a long time before fast food places get any more of your money!)

2) Almost all baby toys are tricked out and juiced-up to perform for the child/infant while he/she stares in amazement. And then becomes more enraptured with the box it came in. The toys light up, they are programmed to sing all kinds of songs, they play all by themselves, without the assistance (or imagination for that matter) of the baby/infant. Supposedly this is supposed to enhance intelligence at an early age. IS it possible that the growing number of children who have difficulty focusing could be connected to the fact that even as babies they were constantly entertained thereby handicapping their abilities to think. If toys don't beep, chirp, sing, light-up, or require at the very least a battery, it is by many childrens' definition not a toy worth having. In essence--not a toy at all.

3)Children expect and demand the most expensive, name-brand clothing and shoes. They feel entitled to these items as if it is their right as children to simply have them. We as adults are quickly sucked into this because first of all the clothes are miniature replicas of adult clothes and that is just plain cute, and second of all, we want our children to 'fit in'. What does that really teach them though? How does this not perpetuate the media-infatuation with perfect body, perfect everything equals success and acceptance.

4)Children these days think that they need phones. Cell phones. Children as young as 5 and 6 are walking around with phones. I find this appalling in most circumstances. (I realize that I am indeed in the minority with this opinion as well). I really don't think that any child or pre-adolescent needs a cell phone. I can possibly be convinced if the child reaches the age or situation where he/she is going to be walking home from school and staying alone, but even that is a stretch for me to say it is a necessity.
I have a friend whose children have phones and have had their phones for awhile now. They have broken and lost them repeatedly. Yet there seems to be no consequence for it and the phones are replaced, with newer, more sophisticated ones within days at no expence to the kids at all. My 9 year old asked me the other day if he could have a phone. After I recovered from my hysterics and could once again speak, I explained to him that first, he would not be getting a phone while he was still throwing fits in my kitchen on a regular basis, and secondly a certain level of responsibility is required in my opinion for something as costly as a cell-phone. Not to mention that he is only 9. What does a nine year old need a phone for? Food for thought--Why do we think drugs are permeating our schools at an elementary level now? Children are easily contacted by texting, IMing, and cell-phones.

5) Chores/Allowance. When I was younger we did chores because we were told by our parents to do them. Occassionally we received a bit of cash at the end of the week if we had been extra-cooperative or had completed some hard task without complaining. But, we did not expect an allowance until we were old enough to actually realize and appreciate the importance of money. And buddy, we earned every penny of that allowance too. Nowdays children think (and I saw this happen in the store today) that all they need to do is demand that either their parent buys them the item they want right then and there, or the parent hands the money over just because they have asked for it.
Once again, that little sense of entitlement rears it's selfish head. I see parents all the time who feel guilty asking their child to do some work around the house to earn the money, or demanding that their child save some money toard a desired item. Why? When did things change?
I feel that by establishing a work ethic as early as possible that perhaps, by the time our children are grown individuals, they will actually be able to suport themselves and retain employment; essentially become productive members of society. My kids have chores and they don't earn very much money right now. I actually pay them more for good grades than for participating with household chores because I feel that they need to realize that it takes all of us to run a home. We all contribute to the daily mess of living, so why shouldn't we all pitch in and clean up together?

6) Priveledges.The difference in activities for children's free-time. My brother and I played outside. We did not expect to be allowed to sit inside on a beautiful day and play the computer (we did not have one) or play a video game. My computer, the only one in the home, is in my bedroom. The kids only have access to it while I am in there and I navigate them around to the sites where they play games. There are also stringent time limits to comuter gaming and when it is over, it is over. Same for video games. We don't have the newest X Box, Nintendo Wii, or Playstation 3...but the boys do have a Playstation2 and each has a Gameboy. These items are quickly confiscated without hesitation on my part when behavior is inappropriate.

I guess I was just wondering when parents became convinced that we should give our children everything and do everything for them. I feel like I was raised with respect but a lot was demanded from me as achild. I appreciate that and am trying to recreate that environment for my children as much as I can. I do realize that we are in the Age of Technology and children need to learn at an early age the use of a computer...but other than that I think everything else is and should remain icing on the cake--priveleges earned, not expected.
Kids don't need anymore than they did twenty...thirty...forty....fifty years ago. A loving home environment, expectations by which they can challenge themselves to become better people, a parent or parents who are available --emotionally and physically.
They need parents who set boundaries and establish limits. They need to be taught the value systems they will need in the Big World. They do not need mall clothes or a $100.00 pair of Nike' Shoes.

I would love your feedback and any other examples you may have to add.

Undefined

So, I am at risk for losing everything or gaining everything.

Have you ever just wondered what 'Blind Faith' actually means? Or "Active Faith", for that matter...they are one in the same. OR what practicing either entails?
Let me demonstrate the difference between 'Biblical Faith' and what I am talking about, though. Biblical faith is, in my estimation, believing that there are separate places called heaven and hell, and that based on a point system of merits earned while living determines to which destination we are transported when the life in our physical body is over. I feel we can achieve our own personal Heaven and Hell right here while having this Human Expereince. In that lies crucial lessons and purpose. I do feel that the Bible is not to be taken literally, that it is entirely symbolic.
Back to the concept of Active/Blind Faith--Believing that something exists before or until you actually see, hear, feel, smell, or taste it? Because we are taught to verfiy existence with our 5 recognized senses from a very early age. To verify only after we have been presented with whatever we are longing for.
As tiny embryos, newly conceived, we are souls coming here on a journey. We know what our purpose is, how to accomplish it, and exactly how long we will be having this human experience. I feel that the 'oldest souls', the 'dearest souls' from time to time even finsh their journeys before birth, thereby releasing them from the obligation of taking on the World and they retreat into Blissful Infinity.I subscribe to the idea that we, as spirits, choose our parents and our birth orders as well as patterns according to the purpose we are coming to fulfill. Some of us here are 'old souls', some of us are 'new souls' with many trips still ahead (if you are curious, look at your child's palm or your own. An old soul will have many lines of wisdom, a new soul's palm is yet to be etched and will appear soft and smooth).
We come with many lessons to learn. Karma, at times, if you will, to be played out. The term 'Indigo Children' is emerging within the literature of the New Age/Enlightened population of society and the more I read about this, I am in agreement. It explains those children that are geniuses and on such a different cognizant, emotional, and social level than most of thier adult superiors.

Yeah, I know. Parts of what I am saying are hard to digest. Our Egos are combatting any invasion into the pefect world of control. Humans crave control. Basic survival nature that we have been taught. Humans need to obsessively plan what lies ahead. This is affirmed by all of the advertisements for retirement annuities, savings accounts, funeral packages, life insurance. We are ever living in either the past or the future.
THERE IS POWER IN THE NOW, if we can just push aside all of the damnations and reasonable objections.
Seize this day. Tomorrow will play out as it is already arranged, the past is gone. I am now walking hand-in-hand with these affirmations each moment of each day.
I am becoming aware of my thoughts, and surprised to realize how negative and judgemental many of them are. Random thoughts of this and that towards whomever or whatever, are not full of love and positive reinforcement, as they need to be in order to achieve peace in myself and consequently in the world I create for myself.
What Man sees in the imagery of his mind manifests itself on the physical plane eventually, thanks to the power of the subconscious mind. This can be either extremely rewarding or very detrimental depending on what 'noise' is repeating itself through your mind each moment, each day, year in and year out.

So, how do we explain tragedies such as the death of a child, or the natural disasters that occur? I haven't figured that out yet, may not figure it out with a reasoning mind anyway. Maybe there is no rational explanation because each is representative of collective thought patterns, thereby bringing about what was expected or planned for.
Ever find that you/we as a people sometimes focus so much on preventing something, that it actually happens? Often, then, we pat ourselves on the back and say to ourselves "see? I told you". Mighty stroke of the Ego. So much energy, life-force energy, was devoted to contemplating the what-if's, thinking, planning against whatever (illness, event, loss) that it was eventually realized and happened? FEAR=F.alse E.vidence A.ppearing R.eal.

Oftentimes we make the battle our own instead of handing it over to the Life Force/Higher Power that we possess in our subconscious/Superconscious mind and not entertaining any worry or thoughts to it at all. Detachment from what we want in fact, produces the desired result. Worrying sends energy to the negative side and we can obtain the opposite result.

Don't Drink Your Milk

WARNING: This is a long, albeit very interesting, post, just so ya know!

In our home, we don't drink milk.
Some find this absurd, since of course there is a massive money-making campaign in this country that proclaims the health benefits of drinking this white concoction. It is even now supposedly proven to enhance weight-loss.
Schools, childcare centers, hospitals all have it as a staple on their menus, buying into the advertisement that "Milk. It does a body good".
But, does it? Mind you, I am just stating my opinions, based on personal experiences, that I truly believe milk to be one of the most dreadful food items a person could put in his body. My opinion is based on a lot of research prompted by my son's recurring illness as an infant/toddler. Here is what I know:

Years ago I began my research into the qualities of milk after myfirstborn son had repeated ear infections and was constantly ill--coughing, hacking, wheezing, sinus infections, nose bleeds, diarrhea, ear infections..I could go on. His ears remained infected no matter what types of antibiotics he was given. After being directed by a close family friend toward the idea that milk could be the underlying problem, I removed from his diet all milk-containing items for two weeks. At that point I was willing to try anything for my little guy. It was incredible, really. Within days he began to have clear drainage instead of the thick, green glue-like substance that had invaded his little body, and soon after had no drainage at all. Not to mention not one single ear infection to date since the removal of milk from his diet.
When I shared with his pediatrician the change I had made in Jacob's diet and the remarable effects, at Jacob's 2 year well-check, he was skeptical and recommended a profylactic antibiotic instead--to ward off the recurrence of any ear infections-- and to immediately place him back on milk--that his body needed the calcium.
Needless to say, soon after that appointment, I changed pediatricians. (Incidentally we have the same pediatrician now that I switched to then, and he is and has always been totally supportive of the milk-free diet for children.)
Jacob thrived on his Rice milk and soy diet, why would I consider even toying with the possibility that it was all coincidence and "test" it by placing milk back into his diet?
So, now, three children, 8 years, and much research later, none of my kids drink milk and aside from Max, who suffers some with his ears but due to an abnormality in ear structure not diet, none of Jacob's siblings have experienced the level of health issues he experienced at such a young age. This requires some effort on my part, because in school the children are not offered water as a substitue for milk and in chidcare, a doctor's note is required before the center will halt serving milk to the child.

Here are some interesting facts about milk. Medically proven and research-supported: Much of this research and facts can be located at notmilk.com

Milk contains 59 hormones and Of those 59 hormones one is a powerful GROWTH hormone called Insulin- like Growth Factor ONE (IGF-1). By a freak of nature it is identical in cows and humans. Consider this hormone to be a "fuel cell" for any cancer... (the medical world says IGF-1 is a key factor in the rapid growth and proliferation of breast, prostate and colon cancers, and we suspect that most likely it will be found to promote ALL cancers).

IGF-1 is a normal part of ALL milk... the newborn is SUPPOSED to grow quickly! What makes the 50% of obese American consumers think they need MORE growth? Consumers don't think anything about it because they do not have a clue to the problem... nor do most of our doctors.

80% of the protein in milk is casein. Casein is a powerful binder... a
polymer used to make plastics... and a glue that is better used to make
sturdy furniture or hold beer bottle labels in place. It is in
thousands of processed foods as a binder... as "something" caseinate.

Casein is a powerful allergen... a histamine that creates lots of
mucus. The only medicine in Olympic athlete Flo-Jo's body was Benedryl, a power antihistamine she took to combat her last meal... pizza.

Cow's milk is allowed to have feces in it. This is a major source for bacteria. Milk is typically pasteurized more than once before it gets to your table... each time for only 15 seconds at 162 degrees Fahrenheit.
To sanitize water one is told to boil it (212 degrees F) for several minutes. That is a tremendous disparity, isn't it!

PUS:
ONE cubic centimeter (cc) of commercial cow's milk is allowed to have up to 750,000 somatic cells (common name is "PUS") and 20,000 live bacteria... before it is kept off the market.
That amounts to a whopping 20 million live squiggly bacteria and up to 750 MILLION pus cells per liter (bit more than a quart).

LEUKEMIA
According to Hoards Dairyman (Volume 147, number 4)... 89% of America's dairy herds have the leukemia virus

"Milk is a very strong pollutant: it is about 400 times more polluting than untreated sewage. To put it another way, 1,000 gallons of milk has the same polluting potential as the untreated sewage from a town of 7,000 people." Morlais Owen. Chief Scientist for Welsh Water. North Wales Weekly News. 24.3.88.

So says Dr. John McDougle:
If a patient bargained with me, "I'll give up only one of the first two food groups "meat or milk" - hopes of getting well," my recommendation for almost all common health problems in Western society would be, "You're likely to get the most benefits if you give up the dairy products."

So, still gonna reach for that tall glass of milk with those OREO cookies?
Trust me, Rice, Soy, even Goat milk offers a healthful and tasty substitute!

Transgressions, confessions, and blogs

So, I need to confess.
In doing so I may lose some of you readers and writers (whom I admire for your talent and always appreciate your responses) who regularly visit my blog. But I ask,
What is a blog if not a chance to express feelings, even if others may not agree?
What is a blog if not a record of actions and reactions in one's life?
What is a blog if not a true picture of the real person within, who may not always be the kindest, sweetest, and make the best decisions?
Yes, this particular entry in my WebBlog journal is for me. A chance to feel vulnerable, to expose parts of myself so that they may be healed. For me to reflect upon later as a reminder of how certain human emotions can trigger reactions inside and actions outside that can surprise and horrify.
Because I made a decidedly inappropriate decision today that I wish to never repeat.

I do know that I could just keep this information to myself, and none of you would be the wiser. But I would know. Oh, I would know. If there is one thing I am trying to accomplish with my Blog besides improving my writing abilities, it is the chance to recognize within myself my own patterns of behavior by rereading my posts as time goes by, and addressing these patterns in an effort to eradicate any inappropriate responses I may be exhibiting. I also wish to present an accurate picture of myself and my little life over here in the Carolinas, as interesting or rather, uninteresting as it may be.

I am not a perfect Momma, have never proclaimed to be, would never want to be, but today I feel like one of those moms. The mothers I have always held in lower regard than I, the ones that hurt their children. A phrase from my childhood days in the Church echoes through my head with resounding realization 'Judge and ye shall be judged'. I have judged and now it is my turn.
This morning, after trying to break up yet another fight between my two boys, I hit my eldest son in a fit of rage and frustration. Immediately I recoiled in frightful realization of what just happened. I taught him a lesson alright, with my hands instead of my words or proper discipline. A lesson he will likely never forget.
In some frantic effort to save face or explain myself, let me say that I have always subscribed to the idea that hitting or spanking never teaches anything in the long run except violent tendencies. And beleive me when I say that as for discipline techniques and tactics, I have tried all of the alternatives to spanking--some of which work, most of which do not.

But alas, as if the physicality was not yet enough, I also committed another atrocity in these frightful moments that I had promised mylsef that I would never do. In this heated moment, I compared my son to his father (for those of you who aren't aware, my children's father is a deadbeat who has been out of the picture for years now). I could see the pain rush across his face.
What have I done? In this moment, I have never felt lower as a mother. More humiliated. More lost.
I caused my son physical pain as well as emotional pain, but it is the latter that most concerns me, makes me weep, for those scars run deeper and heal so very slowly.

I have apologized profusly to my little boy, of course promised that such an exchange will never take place again, and we cried together. Of course he says, "it is ok Mom". The pure innocence of children never ceases to amaze me. They are supreme beings in that when they say it is ok, they actually mean it. But I know better. It is not ok.
Indeed, it is not.
Forgive me, my son.

Playdates, cupcakes, and all that Kidstuff!

No, this is not a happy, grinning, smiley, the world of Mommyhood is just peachy post, so if you are expecting such sweetness to drip from my words, sorry to disappoint.
Today we made cupcakes AND had a playdate at our... apartment.
Notice the emphasis on the word apartment in the above sentence. Just picture it for a small fleeting moment--six kids running wildly through the tiny apartment, from room to room, climbing on things, throwing things, dumping things. Apparently my boys lost their minds for a brief, (punishment will ensue later) moment.
AND the Baby was screaming her head off and running around wildly through the ever-messy/cluttered apartment (as it seems to be these last dog days of summer vacation as I frantically search for new activities to entertain my children).
One thing Motherhood will afford you whether or not you seek it is multitasking and the ability to tune out even the most annoying of Kid-noises when the situation at hand requires it. That crazy Barney music toy? Nope I didn't hear it. It was going off for fifteen minutes? Oh, sorry, nope, did not notice. This particular talent can come in handy from time to time, I assure you.

After I cleaned the frosting from my hands, gathered everyone, and got them settled in their room, the boys--all 4 of them-- them went on a mission to thoroughly tear it apart , from top to bottom--all the kids together--a horrid, icky, sticky (from the cupcakes) mess.
I can't stand messes..especially the ones of a sticky variety all over bedcovers and TVs. Messes make me tremble inside.
I have been told by many that messes are a part of life, and they can be cleaned up. I KNOW. I STILL DON'T LIKE THEM, I say. Do I have to like messes just because I am a Mom? Like, is that a requirement? If so, I found a loophole I am proud to announce, because I hate messes and I am definitely a Mom four times over.

So, our day is ending, the room is nearly back to normal after an hour of cleaning. My sanity is hiding at the bottom of a Beer which I will 'seek and find' as soon as the kids aren't looking, or hopefully have passed out somewhere in front of a TV playing repeatedly a DVD with very annoying ,hypnotic kidsongs that have crooned them into the world of lullabyes one can only know as a child.


Edited to add: I did not get to the Beer , but the few pieces of Dove chocolate that I ate did the trick. I also want to clear up any misconceptions--I do not drink on a regular basis by any means, but hey, sometimes ya need a little "something", ya know?

Future Grad

Future Graduate? You bet! Meet Jacob, my
oldest child. (thanks to a friend, It was brought to
my attention that I did not have any
photos of my first-born posted) Here he is wearing my
cap from my graduation ceremony last Friday.



Ok. Now balancing Diploma cover and other junk
Guess he is just 'over it' and ready to go home.

Matter of Opinion

Over the weekend, I had an interesting conversation with someone for whom I care deeply and admire very much.
However, we don't see eye-to-eye on very many things. He is very philosophical, always asking himself the BIG questions and attempting to define his own answers. This is not a bad thing, don't misunderstand. I also subscribe to the opinion that more of us should actually think about the values we hold close and why we believe what we believe instead of just performing like robots in the command of others. As a people, we would certainly be more enlightened in every sense.
The topic of conversation this late evening was whether or not the concept of 'Humanity' even exists and if so, how is it truly and adequately defined. Loaded question to say the least. And of course, as all BIG questions, has no cut-and-dry answer
My feeling is this: We reap what we sow. If we give out ugliness, hatefulness, or indifference, it returns to us within the realm of Universal Justice and Karmic consequences (see earlier post for a demonstration of this). My position is that humankind has become frighteningly able to kill man, woman, and child alike with lack of conscience. We have become desensitized to the plight of others, to the feelings of others. This is depicted on the evening news, no matter which channel you tune in to.
Humanity, as a concept, in my estimation, is a whole with no missing pieces. All of us are equal on the most important level--the level of life. We all have a purpose and a role to play. What other level really matters when it comes down to the last few moments of life?
Love Thy Neighbor. Make Love Not War.
Now, my conversational partner (hiya Thins!) would and did adamantly disagree.
His opinion is that people must earn their position in society in order to have worth. A bum in the gutter is not as deserving as a person who works to support himself and his family, prepares for his future. A person that sits home and collects a welfare check when he is able to work deserves no place within society, or should be established at a considerably lower place on the human-worth scale than a hard-working father of three.( Here I must interject, that I deal with this on a daily basis in the community in which I reside and it is damn hard to hold my own belief of humanity in these circumstances, and certainly I am guilty at times to viewing these people as on a different level because so many of them do just "hang out and hold up the front stoop"--the feeling of entitlement reigns supreme). He says, When given a choice as to whom to aid in a time of tragedy, offer asistance to the person that contributes to society, thereby weeding out the ones that don't over time. He basically feels that the concept of 'Humanity' is undefinable and maybe doesn't even exist, except of course, on the political platforms of the bleeding liberals.

So, tell me, on which side of the issue do you stand?

Wiped

This, my friends, is my primary motivation for taking them all to the pool. 'Nuf said. (I think the baby got more sunscreen in her hair than on her body, by the looks of her--kind of bedraggled!)

Karma

On the way to the daycare to drop off Serenity, we witnessed an interesting exchange.
A trash truck (and you know how loudly a toddler can and will announce the presence of a BIG TRUCK) stopped in the middle of the road and proceeded to back itself up.
Now, there was some warning as to what the driver's intentions were and I had plenty of time to stop, give him ample space to allow him to do what he needed to do in order to maneuver his truck into a frighteningly small area. Those of us on the 'right side' of the road, literally as well as figuratively, decided that we could be patient enough to help this truck driver out--what is a few more minutes when traffic is already congested? On the opposite side of the road however, a small bug-like car stopped up under the a*s of this truck as it was sitting sideways in the middle of the road. Since driver of said little car had the phone on her ear, we gathered she was pretty much oblivious to what was underway.
As I am sitting there watching I began to get nervous as the truck continued to back itself up across the white line toward little car. The driver of the little car--a female (as if that really matters)--sits there stubbornly although it is possible for her to back her little irritating car out of the way. So, the truck continues to back itself up and at the last moment stops after the female driver honked repeatedly and yelled a few expletives from the window. The truck pulled forward and little car went on through, because wherever it's destination, it was more important that any of ours of course. OF COURSE. Because that is how people drive in my town.

Eventually the trash truck gets itself situated to reverse into the tiniest parking lot ever paved and we can all pass through. He waves, we wave and all is well.
I continue toward and arrive at the childcare center, take my time getting Serenity situated with a toy and a friend, get back in my car and travel back the way I came. As I near a traffic light a bit beyond the place where the truck repositioned itself only a half hour earlier, I see something vaguely familiar in the distance. What is it, you wonder? And what before my wondering eyes should appear? Yep, you got it. Little car with it's now-distraught driver hanging out on the side of the road.
Driver was yelling frantically into the cell, probably explaining how she managed to swap paint with the BMW in front of her.
Ahhh Karma. Sweet Karma. Universal Justice prevails again.

Had little car's driver waited a couple of minutes for the truck earlier that morning, odds are that she would not have found herself exchanging information with "new friend".

Moral of this story--a little patience and kindness might actually save you money in the long run.
And hey, admit it, we all like to save a penny or two in the grand scheme of things.