Greenblogger

Ramblings...

2010-11-21T09:18:00.000-05:00

So, just where is God in all of this?? Who is God? What is He? Since the age of 13 I have asked myself those hard questions. First, let me say that I am an introvert, always have been...totally fine with remaining on the outskirts of things, staying to myself and my own thoughts. I feel no great need to have steady reinforcement. I gain satisfaction in sitting and pondering the questions that most people won't go near. The potential answers too frightening for them, carrying the ability to shake the very foundation upon which lives have been fashioned. See, for me it doesn't matter. My foundation was shaken years ago, and has yet to be rebuilt.
Growing up, my experiences with church left a LOT to be desired. To say the very least. I saw and experienced firsthand the devilish abilities of the pronounced Christian. Say and do one thing while other Christians are watching...quite another story when outside of the 'holy building'. I did hang onto the basic idea that God does in fact exist. Yes, I told myself...there is a God in all of us...there is a Higher Power to be reckoned with, consulted, loved by, etc...I feel God's presence in my daily life, though I certainly do not always understand why I am being asked to take a certain less-traveled path, one that often knocks me to my knees, both spiritually and physically. Questioning myself doesn't mean that I question His presence in my life. Though it may appear so to others.

Recently, challenges in my life have brought these questions to the forefront. What is being asked of me? Where is God? What is he up to?? I struggle with trying to decipher the behavior of another, feeling around in the dark for what is the appropriate reaction for me to take. Let go and let God? or take the reigns and regain control myself...at what pointt do we surrender and let it all just be...not taking a defensive stance, but let Universal Law play out?

Hmmmm.....a part of me really wants to satisfy the human appetite for justice, for revenge, for payback...but the small whisper of my soul says to surrender in Love and Forgiveness...and that is HARD. When we encounter pain and suffering at the hands of another, basic human nature wants that person to suffer as well. We are governed by the Id, the Ego, superEgo, the conscious and the unconscious...the strong innate urge to feel pleasure at causing the person who causes us turmoil, to in turn feel his own turmoil. It may appear as though we have no backbone, in terms of modern society...if we just sit and allow things to happen. And, "weak" is a title to which the Ego doesn't take very kindly. But, wasn't it God who said "turn the other cheek"..."love and welcome your enemies"....huh??? Can this be done while taking a stance at self-preservation? I am thinking No.

Can't walk both sides of the fence. Can't stand for both teams. Or....can we?

My Mother's Hands

2010-09-26T08:16:00.002-04:00

I was sitting and rocking my baby yesterday morning in the early light, watching the first timid rays peaking out from behind the misty mountains and something strange happened. I looked down at my hands and saw my mother's hands. In one split second I was taken back to my childhood when my mom would lay her hands on me when I was ill, reach out for me when I had gotten hurt, massage my legs when they ached so badly.
I saw skin that is growing older, no longer the hands of a young girl, tenderness in the fingers, felt the energy of loving, experienced hands. But these were my hands on my baby, not my mother's. It was surreal to be encompassed in that moment realizing that I truly have a Mother's hands. My hands are now the ones who reach out and offer comfort, rub pains away, nurse lovingly to sleep, hold and rock children. My children.

These moments of motherhood come along rarely, the ones that transport you back to when you were young. These aren't the kind of memories stamped in time by a photograph for your viewing pleasure. These are the kind of memories that hijack a moment and take you by surprise, yet offer profound realizations. My mom was firm and strict. But we knew she loved us, and although her hands were not always gentle, they offered a comfort and security that fulfilled us, made us know in our hearts where our place was in the scheme of life, connected us to our roots. Her hands offered guidance, discipline and love.

Looking down at my hands I felt the deep connection between my mother and myself, the crossing of generations, the passing down of true mothering in every sense of what that word truly means. Years of picking up and carrying babies, nursing wounds, hugging and wiping away tears, all the things that a Mother's hands govern.

A Mother's hands are earned, like a medal of honor that can never be taken away.

eta: this is a photograph taken when Serenity was only 4 weeks old, my mom's hand is on top, mine on the bottom...

Amy Grant - Overnight (Slideshow With Lyrics)

2010-09-12T08:06:00.000-04:00

Baby Radar

2010-09-05T09:34:00.000-04:00

Is this the sweetest face ever? Yep. Do I love him with all my heart? Naturally. Do I know how lucky I am to have him? Everyday.
This sweet thing is pretty zen, most of the time. Only cries when he needs something. Sleeps well. No longer fussy, like the nightmare days of colic.

Except while shopping.

It seems that my baby boy has a sixth sense, a radar if you will, and it is strictly tuned into entering deptartment stores, malls, grocery stores or anywhere else that I may need to go and purchase things. Stand in line. Follow a list. Think coherently.

Almost instantly upon entering any of said locations, Charlie takes this as his cue to scream like his butt is on fire, like no one loves him or feeds him, ever. Those of you who have had to take children shopping know what I mean when I say that attempting to shop with a screaming infant makes me feel like I am on crack and unable to put one foot in front of the other, let alone shop from a list and actually remember to get things we need. I wander the aisles like a lost five year old fighting back a torrent of tears. But that isn't the worst of it, if you can believe that.

The stares from people, the looks I get are enough to send me into the tailspin I am teetering on the brink of anyways. People assume that because your baby is crying, you have either done something to it, are ignoring it b/c you suck as a mother, or else you have no clue when it comes to parenting. The best ones are the people who follow you trying to catch you in the act of the abuse they are sure you have committed against your child. Hmmm...didn't I just see you in aisle four? I thought so. Let me just say that I look forward to grocery shopping like I would having my toenails slowly ripped off one by one.

Which explains why I am still sitting here in front of my computer at 9:30 on Sunday morning, when I should be on my way to the store.

Of Elephants and Babies...

2010-08-29T16:21:00.001-04:00

Through our lives, we begin and conclude many journeys, some so powerful and deep it takes years to tread the path and detangle the lessons, others a mere day or minute, a realization, an awakening, an epiphany...

My fifth child was born nearly 8 weeks ago, a Cancer boy by astrological grouping, a Tiger according to the Chinese lunar cycle. Either way, a blessing he is! A strong boy in personality, yet as the youngest, born 12 years after the first, will struggle with finding his place within the family unit.

Since I delivered via midwife, it is expected that I write a birth narrative to share with other mothers, and also as a sense of closure to the pregnancy/genesis of the mothering of this tiny little soul.

Let me rewind just for a quick moment and give some background information, so that the profoundness of Charlie's birth story will be better understood.

I collect Elephants; I have for a few years now. Until last summer, I was relatively unsure of why I was drawn to these magnificent creatures, but just knew that I was fascinated by them and what they represent.

Elephants represent strength of the Feminine; the Child, the Woman, the Matriarchal Head of Family. Also the importance of Family and Fertility. The Elephant is a symbol of the Highest True Self; its symbolism is ancient.

Elephants live in separate social groups of females and male. The female herd cares for and protect the young elephants. The older, wiser elephants use their experience and wisdom to assist the young mothers of the herd with their calves. Elephants, within their herd, depict how close supportive relationships can be maintained between the generations of feminine members of the family, unlike most of human society.

Last summer, during the intensity of what I was experiencing, I began to see Elephants here and there. Items of course, but I felt they were there to direct me, to help lead me, to reassure me, to offer peace and Love during the most difficult time in my life. Whatever the item was, I would purchase it, take it home, place it within my environment and draw from it spiritually. As the months went by, I could feel my soul beginning to calm down, my spirit no longer screamed with every breath the pain and heartache. I began to emerge from the haze of fright and panic that I had bestowed upon myself.

The Elephants were guiding me, which of course were just tangible objects representing Love, God, whatever you wish to call the Higher Power that is there in each one of us. Through tribulation we are never alone, as the poem "Footprints" reads...if we choose to look, to listen, to be still, the answers to our prayers, our questions, are already there.

As the months wore on and I longed to have the chance to have another baby, I found that I was becoming discouraged with each passing cycle, I was feeling defeated and depressed.

One day I came across a little pink Elephant. It was in a bag of stuffed animals I dumped out on a table at the flea market to sell. I had never seen it before, had no idea where it came from. For a few minutes, I left it sit there, people walked by, some picked it up, asked its price...but no one bought it. For some reason I felt so compelled to pick that Elephant up and keep it, so finally I did. I took it home that evening and placed it at my bedside, beside the Laughing Buddha on my table. Since it was pink, I researched the color pink and found that Pink is the color of sweetness – babies, it also can mean highest or best degree of something, the color of Universal Love…stand for beauty, grace and goodness….

I took this to mean that the Universe was beside me, loving me …that the greatest good will be done and, since it is on the elephant, I related that to fertility and family – meaning to me that I would soon have the baby I longed for, so once again I felt wrapped in peace and felt restored.

The following weekend, while on a weekend vacation with my then-fiancé, we happened upon a store that sold collectibles of all shapes, sizes and nature. I found a section of Elephants, and immediately was drawn to a larger statue of a Mother elephant with two babies on her back, her trunk held high. I simply could not walk out of the store without that statue; I could feel the emotion of the mother as she carried her babies. It was that weekend that I conceived my 5th child..one baby on the elephant back represented him, the other is Clay, my angel baby..he will always be with me and that was God's way of bringing it all together.

Fast-forward nine months, to delivery day for baby Charlie - July 6, 2010. The day is progressing without incident, I am feeling good, and things are going smoothly. I am noticing that for some reason the pain isn't bad at all, in fact they have to urge me to go ahead and begin epidural, telling me that my contractions are getting stronger and I should be wanting it soon. At one point, the midwife who was training under my midwife comes into the room and starts talking about this particular labor and delivery room. It has a certain nickname and is the most requested room in the unit when a member of the hospital staff has a baby, not just because of its beautiful view of the mountains. Would you like to know the nickname for this room?

The Elephant Room.

As she explained to me the reason for the nickname, the fact that the mountains look like a mother and baby elephant facing one another, I sat there in total shock at the way God can intercept a moment and flood it with meaning and emotion, somehow bringing together all that has been misunderstood. It all came through me at that point with such clarity, the past year, my journey to this point in my life, what elephants mean to me and how much a part of the journey they have been..It all just came together with a resounding sense of completion. I felt waves of peace and joy wash over me and I realized how profound this really was, a defining moment in my life.

Three hours later my son entered the world, effortlessly, smoothly, like an angel singing a lullaby.

One journey ends. A new one begins.

So, it has indeed been awhile...

2010-06-29T16:29:00.000-04:00

Getting back into the groove of blogging, something to which I used to look forward with great anticipation now comes difficult. Choppier. Like molasses being coaxed from the jar on a cold winter morning, the thoughts are hidden deep in the recesses of my mind, but pouring them out is gonna take some work folks.

Let me first share the fabulous news that I am pregnant with number five, he is due to come out tomorrow. TOMORROW. June 30th. Although I find myself impatient with the discomfort of the last weeks of pregnancy, I also hear the whispers from my soul reminding me of how lucky I am to be in this situation. BUT, I am not back to repaint the garage of doom with colors of grey and gloom...I made it through that lesson, and from it was granted a new chance, given a new gift of life, in more ways than one.

My kids are all doing well, Ja is a pre-teen, true to the word, M is a mature and playful 9 year old, Jo is a witty intelligent 7 year old, and little S isn't so little anymore, soon to be 5. And the grand finale will be little Charlie, as soon as he decides to make his appearance that is...

When will it be enough?

2009-09-10T16:18:00.007-04:00

Why aren't they enough anymore? Why don't I find joy in all that used to bring me deep fulfillment?
Now that I have extinguished the relationship with any readers I may have once had, by always posting such gloomy stuff, I can simply vent all over this blog and it is my own space..for which I am thankful b/c it seems that lately all I have to say contains a thread of sadness. No one wants to read about sadness all the time...

I can't get past, cannot accept within myself, this deep sorrow...and there isn't a damn thing I can do to rescue my heart, to make it right again within my soul.
I periodically read a few blogs written by those who have lost babies, either before birth or shortly thereafter, those struggling to conceive, plowing through numerous attempts at IVF only to have their dreams fall apart time and time again - situations totally out of their control. Their grief is justified, I feel like an invader when I read those blogs, although the feeling of loss I can now relate to.
It is a living nightmare, one that never goes away and taints my , well, everything...
I go to the store, I see babies with their moms..I go out and see women with pregnant bellies everywhere. The stab of pain never really becomes less...so many times a day, so many I lose count...24 weeks it would be, 26 weeks it would be, and so on...I would know the gender of the baby (though i knew his gender the moment I realized I was pregnant - so strong was the connection already), I would be able to feel his movement, my belly would be round and fruitful...I would soon be able to proudly show off five kids, instead of four.
I look at my children, their sweet innocent faces. The nightmare, it seems it will never end, I will never be the same as I was, whatever that was, whoever she was...is gone. Replaced by a robot who can mimic the motions of daily existence, can take care of the kids, do what has to be done - but totally void of real feeling anymore, real joy has left my world...

Just when you think you have it rough...

2009-07-29T12:31:00.008-04:00

Please visit a blog I came across while chatting with friends on facebook. It is an amazing journey this family is on...and a precious life of a small baby boy with remarkable fighting spirit hangs in the balance. The strength of the mother is second to none. If I were her, I would be a ball of mess....

I have tried three times to insert it as a hyperlink - blogger isn't allowing it atm.
So, here it is:
www.mycharmingkids.net

edited to add: I did manage to add Stellan's button to my page - just scroll down on the right and click on it - it will take you straight to the blog..pass it on, please.

Master Rumi's timeless words

2009-06-25T08:36:00.002-04:00

Poems from another time...

Welcome difficulty.
Learn the alchemy true human beings know.
The moment you accept what troubles you've been given,
the door opens.
Welcome difficulty as a familiar comrade.
Joke with torment brought by the friend.
Sorrows are the rags of old clothes and jackets
that serve to cover and then are taken off.
That undressing, and the beautiful naked body underneath,
is the sweetness that comes after grief.

This being human is a guest house.
Every morning, a new arrival.
A joy, a depression, a meanness, some momentary awareness
comes as an unexpected visitor.
Welcome and attend them all,
even if they're a crowd of sorrows
who violently sweep your house empty of its furniture!
Still treat each guest honorably.
It may be clearing you out for some new delights.
The dark thought, the shame, the malice,
meet them at the door laughing, and invite them in.
Be grateful for whoever comes,
because each has been sent as a guide from beyond.

Team Spirit

2009-06-21T09:09:00.004-04:00

Pictures of the end of season game, All-Stars games begin this Monday. The boys had such fun this year! And how 'bout that Serenity with the cotton candy, eh? A girl's gotta have a little fun too! Yum!

The Soul's voice

2009-06-17T10:09:00.002-04:00

Sometimes the soul DIRECTLY challenges the structure of our personal life.

Below is a poem included in Rodger Housden's book Ten Poems to Set You Free.

THE LAYERS

I have walked through many lives
some of them my own,
And I am not who I was
though some principle of being abides,
from which I struggle not to stray

When I look behind
as I am compelled to look
Before I can gather
strength to proceed on my journey,
I see the milestones dwindling
toward the horizon
and the slow fires trailing
from the abandoned campsites,
over which scavenger angels
wheel on heavy wings
Oh, I have made myself a tribe
out of my true affections
and my tribe is scattered!

How shall the heart be reconciled
to its feast of losses?
In a rising wind
the manic dust of my friends,
those who fell along the the way
bitterly stings my face
yet I turn, I turn,
exulting somewhat
with my will intact to go
wherever I need to go
and every stone on the road
precious to me

In my darkest night,
when the moon was covered
and I roamed through wreckage,
a nimbus-clouded voice
directed me:
"Live in the layers
not in the Litter"

Though I lack the art
to decipher it,
no doubt the next chapter
in my book of transformations
is already written.
I am not done with my changes.

In the pain there is healing

2009-05-24T10:35:00.005-04:00

Wild Geese

You do not have to be good
You do not have to walk on your knees
for a hundred miles through the desert, repenting.
You only have to let the soft animal of your body
love what it loves.
Tell me about despair, yours, and I will tell you mine.
Meanwhile the world goes on.
Meanwhile the sun and the clear pebbles of the rain
are moving across the landscapes,
over the prairies and the deep trees,
the mountains and the rivers.
Meanwhile the wild geese, high in the clean blue air,
are heading home again.
Whoever you are, no matter how lonely,
the world offers itself to your imagination,
calls to you like the wild geese, harsh and exciting -
over and over announcing your place
in the family of things.

~Mary Oliver

Altered perceptions

2009-02-08T08:37:00.003-05:00

The picture: My brother and I with my mother. Circa 1981.

Over the holidays, we gathered together at the table one evening and poured over old family photos. It was so much fun and very humbling at the same time. It is so funny to compare the memories we hold in our minds to an actual, tangible record - the indisputable, old-fashioned Kodak color print. My how they differ! There were moments I was in total hysterics and could hardly breathe from laughter, and other moments where the reality of how it really all was struck me deep to my core.

Being a parent, I do more than just match recollections with photos, I look back at the pictures through a filter, comparing my childhood with that of my own kids. Do they look like I did? Do they like the same things I liked back then? Am I parenting like my parents did (and that can go either way, people)? What will they rememeber? What are their high points and low points?

Concerning the picture above, I vaguely remember that vacation. I was six. It was Disney World, a desitination that my family was fortunately able to enjoy more than one time and I have a lot of happy memories from those vacations. As an adult, and hearing the perspective of my mother - these vacations that my father was so keen on taking was in exchange for college educations as it turned out. At least the kind of college educations that parents pay for. He focused on the big childhood moments while my mother stretched the dollar to buy food and clothing for us kids. So, pictures can be misleading, you see. By appearances, we had extravagances, lavish motorhomes and boats, big Christmases, but behind the scenes, our clothes came from garage sales, my mother grocery-shopped with a pendaflex of coupons, we lacked home decor in every sense of the word, etc.

You just never know with pictures.

Hangin' by a Moment

2009-01-20T10:38:00.005-05:00

Ever spend any time contemplating a moment?
What does something as innocent as a mere moment entail, connote, mean?

Moments drive the ever-encroaching shoreline of our lives.
Right?
We age, moment by moment, leaving behind youth, growing toward life's final epic moment.
When I was a kid - and yep, I was a weird kid - I used to sit and tell myself, "you are younger this minute...than now". Etc. For clusters of minutes, driven by an introverted perspective on life, I played these strange games with myself in my mind. I thought a lot; I didn't speak much. It just was.

In a moment, do you pause before running toward the ocean's foamy waves? Or, do you walk hesitantly, feeling the water creep over your toes and inch its way up your ankles, then retreat in a flurry, only to be repeated in a second or two.

What puts you at ease in a moment of panic?
We all relish, of course, those peaceful moments, the kind perfect for reflecting and 'smelling the roses'. Noticing the happenings in one's hum drum existence that are often overlooked in the course of the hurried moments every normal day brings with it, without our expressed permission. It just is.

What can a moment contain? What can be done in sixty seconds - if we are defining a moment as equal to a minute, which for the sake of this conversation, let's play it that way.
A moment can carry within it, say, the answer to a test question, a parent's unsolicited advice, a birth, a death, an epiphany, an orgasm, etc. There are activities that require clusters of moments, such as driving to work, or getting a haircut. Moments can be monotonous and indistinguishable, falling in behind each other like ants working toward a common goal of completion. Or moments can be life-altering. Everything changes in the blink of an eye kind of moments.
Sometimes moments can be wishy-washy and noncommittal.

Something as seemingly inconspicuous as a mere moment.
Crafty little buggers - those moments.

If all the Raindrops were Lemon drops and Gumdrops...

2009-01-04T16:02:00.003-05:00

This morning, walking into the store:
Max says "Mommy, I wish the world were made of candy".
Journey chimed in and started singing "yea, all candy!"

Me: "Really? But then we would all melt when it rains (as it has done nearly every day for like three weeks now)."

Max: "No, all the raindrops would be candy too - everything would just be candy!"

It is possible that my kids have had FAR too many sugar-coated Christmas treats this year.
Ya think?

Ponderings

2009-01-03T18:21:00.005-05:00

I absolutely must say, without hesitation, that I love my life. All of it. The high moments, the dumpy times, the heartbreak, the elation, the joys, the sorrows, etc. I want nothing more than to be positioned right in the midst of all that I claim as my life. All that it means to me and encompasses within its appearance to others and their perceptions. Most of the time my life and I, we get along quite well. The ebb and flow are natural and predictable. Having said that, there are undeniably times of course when it and I bump and snag one another, setting off a chain reaction that is anything but smooth.

Like most folks, when the new year arrives with all it's confetti-like splendor, I find myself pondering the year gone by ~ reminiscing and reliving it's moments one after another. Memories roll over me like warm ocean waves cascade over the golden summer sand. Of course, I succumb to it and allow it to envelop me with all its emotion and strength.
My only resolution each year is that I refuse to make any resolutions. I find them to be ultimately redundant and intangible devices with which we later torture ourselves. It never ceases to amaze me how fast each year passes. Why spend the first three months of it beating myself up about not adhering to my "resolutions"? Month in and month out, seasons come and go. In many ways, it is always the same - the days and weeks and months. But, within the shell of each one is transcribed a different story than the year before, thereby imprinting the passage of time uniquely.
A year older.
A year wiser.
A year spent learning how to embark upon the journey of one's soul.
A year spent making friends with the struggling and learning to welcome it with open heart.
A year spent learning to pay attention to the Now.
This Moment. It really is ALL there is.
A year spent admitting I was making huge mistakes with my kids, humbling myself, and learning how to be a mother my children will come home to when they are grown.
A year spent reliving old family patterns, passed down unconsciously through generations and coming to realize that living in the past is heartbreaking and serves no ultimate purpose except to perpetuate pain.
A year watching my children evolve 365 days closer to who they will ultimately be. And then questioning if we ever really become who we set out to become. What is that anyway?
A year spent wallowing around in the self-pity of unemployment followed by the liberation of coming full circle.
A year filled with firsts - preschool graduation, last baby out of diapers(!!), first try at baseball, first day of Kindergarten, first day of the last year of elementary school, and so much more.
A year spent trying to figure out what love really means and whether or not it must fall into a category or can be something all its own ~ deviant and indifferent to societal norms.

Sitting here, cuddling up to my cup of Hot Chai, I can feel it. My life is so full of energy, of happiness, of eagerness. I am so grateful for every inch. To look from the outside in, we don't have much. Many people would wonder how we can live on so little, so scarce, scratch by for what we need without going crazy. But they don't know the secret.It doesn't take the newest clothes, the best shoes, the fanciest car, expensive furniture, and all the other material things people hunger after, to be truly happy with one's life. The simple act of focusing on what you have and expressing gratitude instead of concentrating on what you wish for or don't have will illuminate your life in a totally different light.

As Byron Katie so blatantly put it: "Who would you be without that thought"?

(children fighting...more later)

More please!

2009-01-01T09:26:00.004-05:00

I could say a lot of philosophical things about the past year, affirmations and hopes for the new year and so on. But, as I was formulating that post and searching through last year's picture archives, I realized something. Most of all in this upcoming year I want more moments like these, please.

They are following me and calling me Mommy

2008-11-13T18:49:00.004-05:00

Ain't I lucky?!
Though the colors are fading rapidly, our hike through the beautiful forests of the Blue Ridge Parkway was absolutely awesome. The weather couldn't have been nicer. The kids were out of school for Veteran's Day so off we went. The quest for the prettiest fallen leaf got going along with lots of good-natured leaf-throwing and piggy-back rides. I love these times with my kids - away from the house and all of its distractions. ( I had my cell on me though, but only in case we saw a bear. Don't ask me how that would help, but it made me feel better...;)
After our hike we hit our favorite park and had it all to ourselves!
A fun time had by all.

The 'Rock'

2008-11-11T19:17:00.003-05:00

The scene: a noisy dinner table.
Children chattering, all trying to be heard above the next.
Spoons clattering on mismatched soup dishes.
The squeak of the wipe-off board marker. What? you may ask. How odd. A wipe-off marker? Where does that fit in?

Dinner time is a time of talking about what has gone on for each family member during the day, a time to come together and share, but a couple years ago we also started playing educational games while we are eating. It helps cultivate team effort, assists in learning even after the school day is long over, and it is just plain fun.
So, tonight, as my Jacob was drawing ever so carefully the lines for his word on the Star Wars wipe-off board, it happened.
Jacob gave us the theme (person, place, thing). We had been talking a bit about Obama, and all the good changes he is going to make for our country, so i guessed 'president'. Before he could fill in the letters (I was right) Serenity burst out with a loud and gleeful "Rock-O-Bama"! Followed by fits of laughter and soup hurriedly swallowed so as not to spew all over fellow dinner mates, we all said in unison: What?
To which she even more happily cried, "You know Mommy, "Rock-O-Bama"!
Being only three, obviously her pronunciation is a bit off, but even at the tender age of three she has picked up on all the excitement and even the name of our new president-elect.
That's right Baby.
Spot on.

America, you did it

2008-11-05T07:11:00.003-05:00

President Barack Obama.
The name rolls easily.
As have his speeches and his smooth way of being with the people.

Change is inevitable, it is here already with unprecedented voting turnout with last night's election and the fact that we have elected the first African-American to office.

Who would have thought, on September 11, 2001, as we watched our friends and family, fellow citizens fight for their lives as those planes invaded our space and sucker-punched our country, that we would, 7 years later, elect a man into our highest political office who has biological heritage to the very members of society who formulated and executed the attack?

I am not a racist by any stretch of the imagination, I just find it ironic.

My state, the state of NC, is still tied at 7:30 this morning. Though, not due to Asheville voters, I am certain. Every car within 30 miles of this mountain city has for the last year sported Obama stickers of every make and color.
I crave something different for our country, but close to the end of this race, I began to question whether Obama actually has our best interests at heart. Is government control in huge areas such as health care and education really a good idea in the long run? Isn't it a bit Socialistic? No doubts that Obama will have to raise taxes to make those changes he has been raving about, it will have to happen. Are we sacrificing our freedoms, rights, and what makes us Americans by wanting a government health care program and other huge plans he has for our country? Once those freedoms are infringed upon, and the hand of control is resting within each of our lives, it is almost impossible to reverse it.
Barack's oratory has been to say the least, captivating. Sleeves rolled up, identifying with the working man/woman. Inciting feelings of patriotism to the core of Americans. His stance on war gained him millions of supporters. But have we paid close attention to the rest of what Obama has been saying and read between the lines? Studied the economic plans? Or are we guilty of leaping, then looking?

I don't know...I am happy that McCain isn't in office, but to tell you the truth, I am a bit anxious about what comes now. Total control by any party isn't necessarily a great thing, and that is where our nation sits for the next four years.

Guess we will wait and see...

Mission aborted

2008-10-25T08:07:00.003-04:00

From my previous post, you saw that we were gong to disconnect ourselves entirely from the media flowing into our household.
I decided to go a different way.
I know, but what do you expect? I am a Gemini after all.

Instead of terminating our services, which was going to affect my business, we are simply enforcing more viewing rules and guidelines than before (and before, I actually was pretty strict about what and how much TV was watched). They do not ever have unmonitored access to the Internet so that isn't a worry for us yet, but now they are not allowed to turn the tube on until 7 p.m, and bedtime is 8. If they are engaged doing something interactive, such as (gasp!) playing together, then of course I will not interrupt. Heck, I might sell tickets, so rare would the attraction be!

But seriously, I think children are mostly adversely affected by the media. I realize that there are educational channels and some benefits to viewing, but as with anything it must be closely monitored and in moderation. Their little bodies need to be active and challenging their imaginations. When I was young, we looked forward to going outside and playing with friends, riding bikes, climbing trees, playing tag - just whatever. Granted, there wasn't the choice of channels that are now offered with cable TV. No Disney channel or Nick Jr.

During different times throughout my childhood, my mother used to actually get books from the library (long chapter books) and gather us together in the evenings, my brother, my father and me, and read aloud. This is a fond memory for me,one I draw upon when I am molding my little family unit in the way I want it to be. In this busy, fast-paced world, it is often hard to imagine carving out a whole hour for such an activity, right? But, these types of interactions with our children is what they grow up and cherish as loving memories. Course, the trips to Disney World didn't cause too much harm...(grinning).

Anyway, a lot of this comes in the wake of my 5 year old daughter saying to me the other day that she is fat. Fat. My response to her was a bit manic, perhaps too animated in my effort to sway her to the opposite opinion of herself but I was caught off guard. How can my little girl be plagued by those worries already? Is it her friends? Her peers? The commercials on TV? The magazines she loves to thumb through and try to read?

So, onward.
There are books to be read, Monopoly and CandyLand await us.
This might actually be fun.

Kill your TV

2008-10-10T07:09:00.003-04:00

We are going to do it.

Until the New Year, or longer if we are into it by then, my kids and I are going to no longer watch TV. I am testing to see if the atmosphere of the home changes - less arguing, fighting, trance-like drooling (not really, but still). I am canceling cable and internet until Jan.1, 2009 (kind of like a backwards resolution). The boys can still play the occassional video game and we will watch a DVD every now and then, but no mindless TV shows.
This is going to be a challenge for the entire family, as I am certainly as addicted to certain shows as they are, but anyone like s good challenge. I think we will miss Survivor the most, as that has been a long-standing tradition in our house on Thursday evenings, but there will always be another season. I, of course will miss the internet more than I can explain, reading blogs and emails, having information at my fingertips, but hey, 10 years ago, I barely knew what it was and certainly was fine then.

If any of you are game - - jump on board with us!
I will be making weekly visits to the library for emails due to my business, so if you decide to take the challenge with us, send me an email and we can compare notes throughout!

Adios!

It's a Gas thing.

2008-09-23T19:38:00.004-04:00

Asheville, and the Western North Carolina region is apparently suffering form a shortage of Gas. As in gasoline. For cars. Which cannot run without it. This I pondered as I sat in LINE for ONE HOUR and 15 minutes today, one block from the station...why, how, when...

Is it like 1942 or something? Did I fall into a time warp? Of course, the gas prices aren't .40 cents per gallon, more like $4.00+ so I feel sure that I am in the correct century, but GEE-ee-ee-eeZ.

The Mayor (who, by the way, cannot form words without stumbling and tripping all over herself) said "normalcy will return to the area in 5-10 days". EXCUSE ME? Somehow I don't feel reassured. She offered no explanation for the shortage, asked people to stop driving across town to fill up or 'top off', and reminded the community to pull together.
HUH?
Don't drive across town? Well, when there are only FIVE gas stations in the city with gas, we are all scramblin'! (bet she doesn't have to wait in line...)

But seriously, every a.m. the radio stations begin announcing which stations have gas, and for what price. Lines have formed by 6:30 into the streets, backed up and causing major clusterf*cks everywhere. There have been fist-fights, wrecks, and all-out brawls in the name of filling up your car with gasoline.

Signing off with REM's words..."it's the end of the world as we know it...."

Fun a 'TOP' the mountain

2008-09-21T08:32:00.004-04:00

At SkyTop apple Farm!
Our annual trip up to the top of Pinnacle Mountain in search of the best apples ever!
This year we came home with a 1/2 bushel and a Peck bag full.
The day was perfect, gorgeous fall mountain weather, and plenty of apples at the top of trees(for the boys' climbing pleasure), and plenty down low for the little ones to grab with eager hands, cups of freshly made apple cider, and a big tree under which to plop down and take in the mountain views.

So, it's been a little while...

2008-09-11T14:09:00.005-04:00

It really has been almost three months since I posted anything to my blog. It is unbelievable how time just keeps marching onward while I look twice and three months have passed.
My children have grown, progressed - 5th grade, 2nd grade, and Kindergarten. My baby is going to be 3 on Sunday. Can that be? No more babies around my house...? I tell myself that it is what is supposed to occur, that time must move forward. Then I see glimpses of toddlerhood in his smile, or see her sit there and cuddle her "mine-mine", sneaking sucks of her passy when she thinks no one is watching. Little does she know that these are my favorite times to sit and gaze at her, in awe of what love can create.
I watched my eldest son walk toward the school bus this morning, realizing that his gait is exactly like his father's. These days I see him slowly beginning to try on ideas of the kind of man he wants to be someday. He is entering the most confusing time of his life, and really, there is no way I can prepare him for all that he will go through. We all had to walk through it - those uncomfortable-yet-thrilling formative years - some made it while others, succumbing to the pressure or pain, did not.
I have no real post idea today, no witty stories or cute moments to share, but yet still felt like writing something. I am in a state of melancholy, albeit unexplainable. Maybe it is because of the anniversary of 9/11, and the fact that many people are thinking of those they lost, of the tragedy and unspeakable horror of that crystal clear day. Indeed, has the sky ever been more blue than on that horrific day in American history?
And yet, time moves on, relentless and without regard of what it leaves in it's wake. People pass on out of this world, babies are born, seasons continue to change, tragedies still happen without warning.
We must adapt, live on, love on, and persist.

Peace.

Because this says it all

2008-06-18T07:13:00.001-04:00

Walking the Walk, Talking the Talk

2008-06-15T07:24:00.004-04:00

Damn. Here it is. The test, first of many I am sure, to see if I really plan to view things differently in my life and change my reaction to unpleasant circumstances.

The time: Saturday afternoon for Trophy Day at the ball field.

I unload the kids from the car and the boys run ahead as usual. Serenity is holding my hand and Journey is in tow searching for her friend that she likes to meet up with and play together during ball games. We walk past the concession stand and my eyes briefly catch the sight of... THEIR FATHER. WHO HASN'T SEEN THEM IN MORE THAN TWO YEARS.

My mind started going 100 miles per hour. Unstoppable. I felt my body go into fight or flight mode with the adrenaline pumping. How did he know to be here? How did he even know which ball field? How? Why? Huh?

I kept walking to the other side of the field where the inflatables were set up and the girls and I found a spot to drop our junk. Journey ran off to find her brothers and Serenity and I sat down for a snack. My first instinct was to grab up all the kids and just walk back to the car, get in and drive home. BUT, I know that he would have followed us to the car and caused a big scene. My problem with this whole situation is not the children seeing their father. It is that he has made no effort for 2.5 years to be involved, help support them, call them, see them, nothing. Zilcho. OF COURSE he had to show me that he would and could do whatever he feels like and show no mercy where the kids are concerned, not thinking of the repercussions of a random meeting like this. Now, again, they have no idea when they will see him again, it brought all the feelings to the surface that we have worked hard to get through and lay aside, and when we left everyone was in emotional upheaval that it will take weeks, perhaps even months to mend.

As for my reaction, I kept my cool in front of the kids and the community but damn I wanted to let him have it. THe BASTARD. Putting me on the spot like that. He walked up to us and proceeds to tell me that he was at last weekend's ballgame too. He sits down next to me like an old friend and starts the small talk. I am sitting there like WTF. (my kids did not even recognize him - not one of them) Here is the point where I say he is a coward, because at last week's ballgame, that he made a grand point of telling me that he had been there, my mother was there watching as well as the man I have been dating for three years. Notice that ol' daddy didn't have the balls to walk up to us then. As he sits next to me I can feel negativity emanating from his being like waves of heat across concrete in the hot Memphis summer. I want to run. I want to slap him, shake him, spit on him, curse at him. He talks on as if all of this is no biggie deal. I breathe. And count. And look at the clouds. Anything and everything I can do to keep calm.

Finally, Jacob recognizes his father, after like 20 minutes, and he comes running over and leaps into his arms. Then, of course the others follow suit. Max was a little hesitant. By this time it is raining more than just a sprinkle and we are beginning to walk back to the concession stand to see if the day will be rescheduled. We stand around, very awkwardly, and he starts. To lie to my kids. About where he has been these past years and why he hasn't seen them. Mama bear kicked in at that point. I snatched Jacob from his grasp and walked away with MY kids. He follows us and continues to hold them and hug them and WHISPER in their ears - filling their heads full of lies and crap that he knows I would never believe but feels like he can tell them and excuse his behavior. I wanted to vomit.

This man has gotten fired from 4 jobs by refusing to show up on time. He remains homeless - living with people until they kick him out for not paying any living expenses. He rarely sends in his child support ( I am talking 18,000 behind in TN and 3,000 behind in NC - money the kids will probably never see), He has no car - he didn't pay for his truck and it was towed off. He apparently WALKED/THUMBED to Asheville from a nearby town down the highway about 30 miles and is living in the HOMELESS shelter downtown. He smokes and drinks...and well, I could go on. I am just so thrilled to have him lurking around in our comfort zone, as you can tell.

The rain was a blessing because we were able to have an excuse to leave the ball field way earlier and Max did not get upset at having to miss the Trophy ceremony. But, after one hour of having that man in our presence, I was spent and I could tell that the kids were too. We piled in the car and drove home to have an emergency family meeting over slushies and rootbeer floats. At which point I told them the truth about their father, in a kind and gentle way of course. I opened the floor for questions and was surprised to find that they all asked some pretty hard ones and seemed to understand the answers, or at least accept them. Journey was in tears, Jacob was just silent - hiding behind sad eyes and a lot of emotion that his 10 y.o. self can't process, Max said he would rather that R** be his dad anyway since we see him all the time, and little Serenity was oblivious - never having met her father (he made no effort to ever meet or see his fourth child - but happened upon her the last time he came to see the kids on January 2, 2006)

Quite simply, I am sad. The kids were doing so well, very adjusted to daily life as it was, no more behavioral issues relating to the abandonment by their father. We had settled into routines and were happy. I just hope that all that hard work isn't washed away with one random meeting from the sperm donor. As I sat reading yesterday afternoon, focusing on parts of my book that were helping to explain what I was experiencing and what it reflects, I am certain that it was a big test from the Universe to see if I can transcend the drama that has been my life for the past 12 years with this man. Am I ready to let go of that story? Can I move past the feelings it brings up and allow those feelings to pass through without becoming stuck and reacting to them? I don't know...I just don't know.

What I know for sure: I will do whatever it takes to let go of this story. It is one thing to read about how to do it, to talk about doing it..it is yet quite another to walk the walk and talk the talk.

Sweeping and scrubbing

2008-06-14T07:31:00.003-04:00

Literally and figuratively.

Monday I started a new job as an independent contractor for a residential cleaning service. This particular service uses natural cleaning products only (mixed exclusively by their own private chemist) and essential oils such as lavender, spearmint and peppermint for aromatherapy. It is damn hard work, very physical of course, but right now for me this is exactly what is called for. I welcome the experience.

For the past few months, as some of you who read my blog already know, I have been walking a journey of personal reflection and discovery. Since reading the book A New Earth, I have literally changed the way I look at my life, moment by moment. Sometimes I catch myself going into my stories and I notice the mind chatter, but just the mere act of paying attention rises the awareness to a new level.

Anyway, I started this new job on Monday and I find it extremely fitting that I am cleaning. As I clean inwardly, I clean outwardly. It represents where I am in my personal development and it is fascinating to me to watch the evolution. It fits no scenario that I would have ever drawn up for myself, but I welcome the eagerness I find myself experiencing. Since relinquishing the control over my life, the pure happiness I feel is addictive. Almost gleeful from time to time. I know, strange.

The job itself is very physical, but it is kind of like being paid to work out for six - eight hours straight. The aromas from the essential oils is lovely, smells like being in a spa and is very relaxing. The products are all natural and safe for the environment so there is no worry of chemical burning or inhaling harsh substances. I have no idea how long I will be working this job, but I hope to continue on this path and I can't wait to find out what is next for me.

Thanks to you who always drop by and take the time to read my blunderings! I promise, the next post will be an update on my kids and what we are up to this summer.

Because summer is here and this is important!

2008-06-05T19:13:00.002-04:00

In light of the fact that summer has arrived and most of us will hit the pool, lake, ocean, etc at least once this season, I thought it very urgent to pass this information on. I had no idea that something like this can occur! Pass it on.

By Mike Celizic
TODAYShow.com contributor
updated 9:58 a.m. ET, Thurs., June. 5, 2008

The tragic death of a South Carolina 10-year-old more than an hour after he had gone swimming has focused a spotlight on the little-known phenomenon called “dry drowning” — and warning signs that every parent should be aware of.

“I’ve never known a child could walk around, talk, speak and their lungs be filled with water,” Cassandra Jackson told NBC News in a story broadcast Thursday on TODAY.

On Sunday, Jackson had taken her son, Johnny, to a pool near their home in Goose Creek, S.C. It was the first time he’d ever gone swimming — and, tragically, it would be his last.

At some point during his swim, Johnny got some water in his lungs. He didn’t show any immediate signs of respiratory distress, but the boy had an accident in the pool and soiled himself. Still, Johnny, his sister and their mother walked home together.

“We physically walked home. He walked with me,” Jackson said, still trying to understand how her son could have died. “I bathed him, and he told me that he was sleepy.”

Spongy material
Later, she went into his room to check on him. “I walked over to the bed, and his face was literally covered with this spongy white material,” she said. “And I screamed.”

A family friend, Christine Meekins, was visiting and went to see what was wrong. “I pulled his arm and said, ‘Johnny! Johnny!’ ” Meekins told NBC. “There was no response. I opened one of his eyes and I just knew inside my heart that it was something really bad.”

Johnny was rushed to a local hospital, but it was too late. Johnny had drowned, long after he got out of the swimming pool.

According to the Centers for Disease Control, some 3,600 people drowned in 2005, the most recent year for which there are statistics. Some 10 to 15 percent of those deaths was classified as “dry drowning,” which can occur up to 24 hours after a small amount of water gets into the lungs. In children, that can happen during a bath.

Dr. Daniel Rauch, a pediatrician from New York University Langone Medical Center, told TODAY’s Meredith Vieira that there are warning signs that every parent should be aware of. Johnny Jackson exhibited some of them, but unless a parent knows what to look for, they are easily overlooked or misinterpreted.

The three important signs, he said, are difficulty breathing, extreme tiredness and changes in behavior. All are the result of reduced oxygen flow to the brain.

Johnny had two of those signs — he was very tired when he got home, and he had had the accident in the pool. But like most parents, Cassandra Jackson had no idea this could be related to water in his lungs.

Delayed reaction
Rauch said that the phenomenon of dry drowning is not completely understood. But medical researchers say that in some people, a small amount of inhaled water can have a delayed-reaction effect.

“It can take a while for the process to occur and to set in and cause difficulties,” Rauch said. “Because it is a lung process, difficulty breathing is the first sign that you would be worried about.”

The second sign is extreme fatigue, which isn’t always easy to spot. “It’s very difficult to tell when your child is abnormally tired versus normal tired after a hot day and running around in the pool,” Rauch said. “The job of the lungs is to get oxygen into the blood and your brain needs oxygen to keep working, so when your brain isn’t getting oxygen, it can start doing funny things. One of them is becoming excessively tired, losing consciousness and the inability to be aroused appropriately.”

Finally, there are changes in behavior, Rauch said — another tough call when dealing with very small children, whose moods and behavior can change from one minute to the next.

“Another response of the brain to not getting oxygen is to do different things,” Rauch explained, saying parents should be concerned “if your child’s abnormally cranky, abnormally combative — any dramatic change from their normal pattern.”

He admitted, “It is very difficult to pick this up sometimes.” But spotting the warning signs and getting a suspected victim to an emergency room can save a life, he added.

Victims of dry drowning are treated by having a breathing tube inserted so that oxygen can be supplied under pressure to the lungs. “Then we just wait for the lung to heal itself,” he said.

But for Cassandra Jackson, it’s knowledge gained too late. She and Meekins sat in her home, looking at pictures of the bright and happy son who was no more.

“He was very loving, full of life,” the grieving mother said. “That was my little man.”

Life Energy

2008-06-01T08:01:00.004-04:00

Recently, after having been fired from my job (one that I despised anyway), I have found myself with some extra time on my hands. I have been reading a book entitled A New Earth, by Eckhart Tolle.

Based on the fact that I enjoy pondering the reason for our existence, the purpose and all the Great Questions of Life, this book has captured me in ways transformational. It has always been that I believe wholly in the idea that people are not as they appear. When I was 13 I was given the choice whether I wanted to continue to attend church or not. I chose Not. To that point, my perceptions of church-goers were negative. I saw Christians as a lumped together group of hypocritical folks. I found the teachings that the Bible is to be taken literally to be ludicrous. The Bible is a sacred tool, no doubt, but it is, in my opinion, very symbolic. The idea that heaven is a place that awaits do-gooders and is off in the sky somewhere is not a concept I could ever wrap my mind around. I attached the religion to those feelings and had nothing to do with God for years based on my hurt and pain at the hands of the church.
Sometime in my twenties, I found myself searching, chasing a longing to find what was missing from my life. Since then I have been on a quest to define spirituality and God and what it means to me on a personal level. I am not a part of any organized religion, but know myself to be a very spiritual being, cultivating a close relationship with a Higher Power.
I believe that we are spiritual beings/souls having a human experience, in essence inhabiting the physical form for as long as it takes to learn whatever lessons are up for us, to eradicate patterns of negative thoughts, to truly learn how to live from Love. Some souls have been here numerous times, and are old and wise and some are new to the human experience.

I think, so far, the part of the book A New Earth that has stayed with me has been the idea that we are not 'our stories'. We are not the identity that we have so closely attached to our thoughts, our history, our beliefs. When you stand in front of someone, what do you talk about? Do you speak of all that has 'happened to you' in your life? Do you remind yourself of your past? We all have that voice in our heads - the one that won't shut up and usually keeps a running dialogue of thoughts about this or that. The Ego (which is our thoughts, our identity as we know it) has the controls of our life, so completely in fact, that we fail to recognize each moment as it is. No past, no future...just this tiny moment for all it is, its very Essence, if you will. Now, I have been putting this theory to the test for the past couple weeks. Noticing when I am thinking...then taking a step back and putting a halt to that mind chatter, if even for a few seconds. Then I can become the One who is Aware, in the moment. Very challenging. For me, when I can take notice of my thoughts, I also immediately notice a part of my body that is tensed. In noticing the thinking, I also feel that tension melt and my body relax and become less stressed...imagine if we could do that all the time! That is the goal.

It is amazing how much we are actually inside our heads. How do we interpret each moment? Moments do not need interpretation, yet most of us taint everything we experience with belief systems, identity with our stories, connection with memories and all that we think defines who we are. In fact, none of that is who we are, it is conceptual identity wrapped around a bunch of thoughts and perceptions we have built based on life's experiences. Not based in each moment. Some claim Victim hood - the bad things that have happened TO them, they have no control over their lives, and they tell these stories to anyone who will listen. There are many roles the Ego can play while we remain totally unaware and asleep to its control. What we see in others and react against are actually aspects of ourselves that we keep hidden and choose not to acknowledge based on a belief that we harbor.

When we point a finger at someone, we are actually needing to examine ourselves and exterminate a belief or perception. Awareness comes with realizing that others reflect to us ourselves, in various forms. I am still grappling with that one. A biggie for me is hating when someone is always talking about things they are good at. In asking myself the question, "what part of that is in me and why does it bother me" I realized that the reason I don't like to hear someone else speak positively about themselves goes back to when I was a child and I never felt like what I did was good enough, thereby developing low self esteem and never feeling like I had a right to talk about anything that I can do well, fearing no one would care to listen. So, when I hear someone else talking about themselves, it hit a trigger deep inside for me and the emotion attached to that was a negative one. What I really hated was not listening to the other person, but the fact that I felt I had no right to speak positively about myself. Kinda tricky, huh?

Eckhart urges the human population to begin to notice true Life energy. Sit for a moment and feel, No thinking, just feel the life running through your body. Start with your hands and move through your body, feeling the Power of Life that is within your body. It took me awhile to be able to do this, the mind is always trying to distract...what needs to be done for the day, where we need to go, who we need to talk to, etc, etc....

How do we base future behavior? One moment at a time. Second by second. Letting emotions pass through instead of getting stuck and hung up. It is all just an illusion and the trajectory of Life changes once you can disconnect yourself from your patterns and beliefs and simply just Be. From Love. With Love. In Love.

Anyway, I am still reading this book and will probably read it again once I finish it. It is like having one epiphany after another.

Rock on Moms!

2008-05-11T08:58:00.003-04:00

" I guess what I have really discovered is the humanizing effect of children in my life - stretching me, humbling me. Maybe my thighs aren't as thin as they used to be. Maybe my getaways aren't as glamorous. Still, I like the woman that motherhood has helped me to become".

~ Susan Lapinski

So, yeah sure I get into all the mushy sentimental things about Mother's Day. I hold back the tears while inspecting the treasures my children make for me, I covet the homemade cards and notes, and so on.

I chose this quote today for a reason. Being a mother means something other than the fact that you have children ~ whether you bore them, adopted them, or claim them as your own. It means that you have changed. Evolved, if you will, into a different version of the pre-mother self you once were. A mother has learned to sacrifice, to enjoy giving of herself for the benefit of her children. A mother truly values the life of her child above her own, but has learned the delicate balance of taking care of herself too in order to enhance her mothering abilities(that one took me awhile to grasp). A mother has learned to do ten things at a time while watching all her children at once, while cooking supper for five. Whew!
Let's face it, Moms rule!

All the sentiment aside, my mother gave me a card yesterday that sums up motherhood in one four-word sentence.

"Holy crap, its hard".

Now, cutsie little hand print clay keepsakes aside, can we agree that that statement is most profound and screams the truth about being a "Mommy"?

I thought so.

Happy Mom's Day to all of you!

May you be showered with many construction-paper cards, hand print plates, painted clay flowerpots, and various other child creations made with love by the sticky, chubby-fingered hands of your favorite little people!

Boys and baseball just go together

2008-05-03T14:11:00.003-04:00

Max has been playing baseball this spring. His first time ever playing any kind of sport. Despite my convictions and feelings against organized sports for kids so young, I allowed him to sign up and play a season so we could just try it out.
The field, the dirt, the cheering of all the excited parents, the smack! of the bat on a ball, it is all very contagious! We have been having a fabulous time - grime and all!

Keep Asheville Wie*rd

2008-04-25T07:17:00.004-04:00

It has been said by natives of the city, that a person either hates Asheville or loves it. Natives keep bumper stickers, license plates, window decals and T-shirts that read "keep Asheville Wier*d".
It goes without saying that I love Asheville. Our city has such a charismatic feel to it. It is just the right size and very open-minded and creative. I so enjoy walking around downtown taking in all of the smells of international cuisine, watching people play instruments in our town square at pretty much any time of day. I love the pride that people have in our city, residents and visitors both.

I have been here for 8 years and plan to keep counting. It is a small city and of course has its bad spots, but for the most part, is clean, green (we have more than the normal share of earthy, tree-hugging, dirt worshipers--which is fine by me), and inviting. Of course, being placed in the Mountains we see lots of tourism and have to deal with Leaf Lookers during our gorgeous autumn, but that is a small price to pay for not living in a concrete jungle if you ask me.

The season is coming for hiking in the mountains and wading in creeks near gorgeous waterfalls, picnicking along trails that snake through the Blue Ridge Parkway, to name just a few of the summery pleasures here.
With the days of summer comes one of my fave things about Asheville ~ Bele Chere. The summer street festival held here each year. People come from all over the world, vendors, artists, musicians, you name it. For three days, our city spills over with vitality and energy ~ even more than usual.

Though it may seem, I am not practicing an ad for a brochure about Asheville. I just woke up this morning, looked out the window at the crystal blue sky wrapping around the mountains which are covered with trees sporting their new lime-green leaves, and felt proud of where I live. The air is clean, the sun is shining.
Thought I would share.

Moonlight Dancers

2008-04-20T08:52:00.003-04:00

The Moon is full and bright, predictable and comforting.

The darkness shifts, a new energy is rising.

A dance is beginning, one with which she familiar, and one she is stranger to.

At this time, ground rules are of utmost importance. A heart must have a voice now.
What each partner learns about the other is paramount, during the moonlight dance.
It will set the tone for what lies ahead. Either the movement will be uninterrupted and fluid,like a mountain spring in late summer, reflecting two people who are in tune with one another. On the contrary, if the partners are not fully present with one another, focusing intentions and thoughts elsewhere but the methodical movement of the rehearsed progression, it will appear and feel choppy and broken ~ out of sync.

He is confident. Feels over-deserving of her cooperation. He thinks he knows her. Can anticipate her moves, her feelings, her talents, her weaknesses. Reminds her of the times she has fallen, with a fleetingly backhanded compliment. She is shy. She has an idea about him, but isn't sure what drives his soul. She doesn't want to lose her power, her control. Can she trust him to lead?

The music starts.

The dance is just beginning.

His hands aren't gentle, they move too quickly, too roughly, not establishing trust, but rushed gratification. She feels like a little girl again, unable to find her voice. She loses concentration, can no longer hear the music, can't find her dancing feet. She stumbles.

The dance comes to a halt. The music stops.

The moon shines on, with it's glorious brightness, unaware of the dance, unaware of the power it's mere presence unleashes.

In my own words

2008-04-13T08:25:00.002-04:00

Anyone heard that song floating around lately where the artist writes a letter to himself at age 17 to reassure him that his future self turned out alright?
Even if not, you might enjoy this post.

You see, I did it backwards. I wrote a letter to my future self on October 29, 1994. I was 19 years old, writing to the person I would be at 34. I sealed it and wrote on the envelope not to open until June 11th, 2009. Well, even though I was supposed to wait another whole year, I opened and read it the other day.
I wrote about what I hoped to have in my life, my dreams and aspirations, what consumed my mind at the time.

So, here is an excerpt:

I don't know what kind of person you have evolved into. I can only say what I, the 19 year old Heather hope to have in my future. Hopefully you have your ultimate dream of children, but I hope you didn't forsake your other dreams for immediate fulfillment. As a 19 year old you were confused. There were so many choices, so many different ways to start your life, you were so scared to take a wrong step as the first one. You knew, at 19, that ultimately your dream was to help people, but you couldn't figure out how to make that happen.
Maybe now, in 2009, you have achieved what your soul had planned for you. Hopefully you have awakened to the belief that you can create your own life exactly the way you want it to be, regardless of outside beliefs and pressures. Hopefully you are your own unique person, allowing no pressures from others to sway your beliefs and knowings. Do you have your ultimate fulfillment yet? The one I search for now, in 1994? Is the world still the same in 2009? Are there still wars--both outside between countries and inside each person on the planet? Who did you marry? How many beautiful children do you have?

I sat there with this letter for some time. I was thinking back on who I was then and how the world seemed to me from that young perspective. I can picture myself sitting at my desk in my room, gazing out the window as I wrote this letter. I know that at the time, I was a manager of a small children's boutique in the mall and really enjoyed my job, but was starting to desire something more. My heart was yearning for a direction for which there were no signs pointing the way. I was entertaining the thought of going to school, or maybe had already begun the first semester of college--hence the confusion. I know that I was dating, but nothing serious. I remember wanting a child so badly that it consumed my thoughts almost on a daily basis. I would wander through the children's sections of department stores, go to the baby store and run my hands over the soft blankets and sleepers. (Once I even purchased a tiny blue sleeper that I kept tucked away until I had my first son)

Sitting here now, almost 33 years old, I wonder if I robbed myself of those carefree years by trying to grow up too fast. I hear people talk about their twenties and how it is a time for mistakes, playing, and just simply time for self-discovery. Throughout my adolescence I was very unsure of myself, as most of us are during those worrisome years. So many changes, so much to think about.

In retrospect, I guess I was a typical 19 year old wrestling with the huge questions and decisions that seem to never have any real answers.

If I were to write back to myself though, I would have to say that I am reaching my goals, though not necessarily in the order I may have had planned for myself 15 years ago.
I would be pleased to know that I now have 4 children; I know that back then, knowing that I would have children someday would have been a great source of comfort. But, in some ways, I think I did forsake other dreams to have my children and perhaps the timing wasn't the greatest. I mean, I didn't want to be a single parent and to have to struggle to give my children a good life. I brought these children into the world for instant gratification in some ways, because I just couldn't wait any longer and once that train left the station it was gone for good. Thee is no going back once you have become a mother and some choices are now along a different set of tracks, out of reach.
I would tell myself to play a while longer. To focus on myself and to not be afraid that I would take a wrong step. To not be so careful for it is in the times of personal release that we learn about ourselves. To just live one day at a time and not place so much worry on the future at such a tender age. I would reassure myself that things would work out, that the path for my life would reveal itself in due time.

" There is no prescribed way for everyone; there is just your way for NOW, until you choose another".

What pisses me off

2008-04-09T07:19:00.002-04:00

So, I work at a childcare center. Not so bad, right? I enjoy the children, been doing it for years, can get by for now...right?

Well, seems that after two months of working my ass off, not missing any days, picking up extra work anywhere I can find any, being willing to step into any room without complaint when a teacher is out or has to leave, now that I have fallen ill, the mountain of guilt dropped upon my head by the Director is as heavy as a Mack truck.
See, she doesn't want anyone to EVER miss work, not even scheduled time off, because then she may end up in a classroom - God Forbid. The Assistant Director is the same way. She WILL NOT step foot into a classroom, EVER, no matter what issue the teacher may be having (let me say that in this center, most teachers are alone in classrooms without assistants, and to not be able to count on the help of the administration when it is needed is frustrating to say the least). I was astounded at this as well as many other issues representing the extreme gap between administration and teachers at this center.

So, this morning, I call in and tell her I have a fever, coughing (which by the way is what is afflicting many children in the center and they have not been sent home as the policy so clearly indicates should be the case) and fatigue. I let her know I came in yesterday anyway though I was sick, in an attempt to make it through and not cause a hardship on anyone.

Know what she asks me?

"Well, are you on the way to the doctor"? I know, doesn't seem like too crazy of a request, unless the job offers NO insurance and pays only $9.50 per hour! We all know how much a trip to the doctor can cost and I certainly am not going until it becomes clear that I will not get well without medication.

Oh, well. Just a few mental notes to self:
1.When my center is open and staffed, offer health insurance and enforce the sick policy for children. Really, there is no excuse not to do both of these things.
2. Keep connected with the teachers. They are the heart of the center and when they feel discouraged and broken down, taken advantage of and overworked, the outcome is not a good one and morale is at risk.
3. Realize that people who work from 8:30 a.m. - 5:30 p.m. M-F must have a day here and there to tend to necessary tasks, and that teachers will, on occasion, succumb to illnesses; it is the natural side effect of working with children.
4. Enjoy the time in the classroom with the children, away from the ringing phones and screaming mountains of paperwork that are the demands of being a Director...after all, if it weren't for the children, the job of being a childcare Director would be non-existent.

Over and out.
Happy Wednesday!

News-ish

2008-04-07T07:13:00.002-04:00

I am sorry I haven't updated before now, but here is the situation. I don't really have any news concerning the little boy that was missing last weekend.

Although we never officially heard, which is EXTREMELY frustrating, we think they must have found him. We have chosen to arrive at this conclusion because the rescue/search efforts simply halted. As of last Monday, there were no longer search parties or resuce personnel anywhere around, so we are taking that as a good sign.

However, I have waited all week with a very uneasy feeling in my gut, because I haven't seen the little boy playing anywhere either. Usually, he is always outside wandering around, looking for someone to play with. And, in case you are going to assume that his mother has stepped up to the plate and decided to actually parent her son, protect him, and establish boundaries for playing, let me assure you that is and never will be the case. She cannot be bothered.

So there are no signs of him at all. It is like he simply vanished into thin air. I drove by his building the other evening, and it was all dark in his apartment. But, at the same time, there has been no media coverage of the entire incident (which means little to me, I trust nothing the media says anyway).

So, we wait. And hope. And wonder..if we will ever see our little friend again, or if he has become yet another sad statistic, lost forever.

Moment of Silence and Prayers of Hope Please

2008-03-29T20:10:00.003-04:00

A little boy that lives near us went missing this evening.

He is 7 years old.

He plays where my children play.
And today they all played together, like many days.

He was in my daycare class two years ago.
He is a sweet, friendly, neglected child.
You know the kind.

He is Lost. Or worse, but our thoughts do not want to go there just yet..
Darkness is falling...
We must find him and bring him home.

Please, please, say a Prayer, even if you are not a believer in prayer..
Pass this on.

Edited to add: As of yet, this morning,3/30 we do not know more. Rescue people and search parties combed the complex all evening, and as of last night, when I asked a neighbor if she had heard anything, he had not yet been located.

Wild idea

2008-03-16T11:12:00.002-04:00

So, after over a month of not posting, I thought I should write a little something. First, let me say that I have been reading blogs here and there and commenting when I have the moment. I miss being able to sit and pour out my thoughts, but I am focused on a new venture at the moment that is demanding all my attention (well, whatever is left over after parenting demands and work responsibilities!)

Things are going well right now. I am getting settled into my job, but have my sights set on something way larger.
I have been throwing myself into researching the possibility of opening my own childcare center/after school program.

After I started back to work in the field, I realized how much a part of me it really is and I want to expand on it, grow something from that passion.

I have been spending all of my spare time researching and reading about state laws and regulations, perusing properties for sale, designing a budget with start-up costs, a business plan, etc. I am all set to take a Pre-licensing workshop at the end of this month and I am really looking forward to that. I hope to walk away from the 2-day workshop with a solid handle on what to do next and where to get started.

On the parenting front, Jacob has turned 10 and is having a positive run of things right now, so I am enjoying that while it lasts. Max is going to play baseball this season, so we are gearing up for practices and games and time spent at ball fields in the evenings (which will be nicer when the weather warms a bit). Journey and Serenity are both conveniently settled into the childcare where I work, so I can see them during the day.

Hope everyone is doing well, and I will update more on my venture as I can!

Full Circle

2008-02-10T12:06:00.000-05:00

So, first things first.
I have a job. Finally.

Been a long time coming for sure. These past few months have been, well.... I suppose humbling is the right word.

See, three years ago when I made the choice to go back to school, I thought the outcome would be different than it has turned out to be. For the ten years previous, I had been working as a teacher in early childhood education (childcare), and when I started to have kids of my own that profession became even more challenging than the every day demands of being a teacher presented in and of itself.

Coming home in the evenings to children, after having been with 18-20 children all day long was taking it's toll on me and my ability to appropriately mother my own kids, I felt. I loved my job as a teacher, but I was exhausted, emotionally drained each day, impatient, and short with my children when they certainly did not deserve it. Then there is the fact that a childcare teacher, even a Lead Teacher with experience, only earns on average 8-9 dollars per hour. IF they are lucky enough to work for an established center with accreditations and the funding needed to run a great childcare center. Definitely seems too low when one takes into consideration that the fees for childcare are so astronomically high, ranging from 100 per week up to 240 per week, depending on center, location, and other factors.

In addition to the emotional struggles, it was also becoming increasingly difficult to support my family on such meager wages. In 2004 I made the ultimate decision to rearrange my life and enroll in classes full time so as to finish as quickly as possible. Three years later (last August), marked my finishing point. I had earned my Associates degree as well as my Bachelor's. I couldn't have been happier, more excited, more enthusiastic to face what I was certain lay ahead. A better job most definitely, a better home, a safer car, more opportunities for my kids, the ability to save for their college educations, etc, etc. That was seven months ago. Seems like a lifetime ago.

Over the last few months I have learned things about myself that I would not have come to know if I had not been placed in this situation. My goal for going to school, aside from family-related ones, was to work in the community to help other families living at or below the poverty line, single parents who need to be assured that things can work out for them, children who are in broken homes and need emotional support. You name it, I wanted to be a part of it. I had lived it after all, hadn't I? Who could help better than a person who had been among the lower class, living in subsidized housing, raising children alone, earning less than what it takes to live without government assistance?

I could attest to the stress and discomfort of sitting in the waiting lobby of the local social services office. I had lived the feelings of inadequacy and failure, being forced to ask for help during months when I had been out of work even for a few days with a sick child or standing at the check-out in the grocer paying with a benefit card - the only way I could afford food for my family. Those feelings were enough to propel me into wanting to make a difference, even if it was just a kind face behind the desk with a few comforting, friendly words to say to a client sitting in front of me facing the same circumstances in which I had once found myself. Because sometimes, those people make a world of difference in just their attitudes, you know? Sure, some people are always out to beat the system and have a false sense of entitlement, but in my experience, most of the time when a family applies for social assistance, it is driven by pure need and desperation and should be met with kindness and compassion, not patronization or hardness.

So, I was all stoked about getting in there and getting my hands dirty! That is, until nothing came my way. All doors I approached slammed with resonance. No windows appeared to be opening, no opportunities were coming my way, despite many attempts to market myself. I went to interviews, sent out resumes, filled out online applications all under the field of human services. I was constantly being told to go get more education or have 2 years of experience before coming back.

Huh? Excuse me?

Slowly I began to quiet down, quelling the panic rising inside and listen to that little voice that we love to ignore in our bustling around trying to fix everything and do everything ourselves.
Before I could be of any help to others, I must first help myself. I must first change things within myself concerning the way I was looking at the world, what I was mirroring for my children without realizing it. I was piling upon them values that I would be in the community striving to squelch and overcome.
I have come to realize that my own little family unit needs some healing of its own before I can reach out and offer myself or my experiences to others.

Suffering must be felt in it's entirety, and not rebelled against, or it will avail itself constantly. It will not leave. It's patterns will not be erased.
I have found myself, these last few months, being forced to once again ask for financial help, sit in the lobby of Social Services, and feel it again. I am recognizing the lesson for what it is and I must never forget. I must remember what it feels like to be drowining in desperation, to not know where the rent will come from, to seek a job and be unable to find one, to beg for help with food, to cry at the pain of losing the dreams I had built for myself and my family.
Slowly the realization crept upon me. Maybe, just maybe, this is all I can do and will be. The hard part was making peace with that, to love myself despite everything. To release attachments to what I want to have and be truly grateful for what we do have. To accept these things without harboring judgements or blame. Talk about eating a few slices of humble pie, folks. No more tooting my own horn or feling like I was going to 'rise above it all'. I am 'it all'. This is 'it all'.

With the acceptance of these soul-wrenching realizations, I have found a job working in a childcare facility, in a Pre-K classroom. I can legitimately say, that although the job pays a mere $9.50 per hour, I am excited to have it. Even three months ago, I would not have taken a job back in childcare, feeling like I was 'past all that' and 'deserved' something better. But, in all honesty, I am looking forward to it. It is what it is, and it is mine. For as long as I need it. I still have a special place in my heart for my dreams and goals, and I will visit that place often, keeping those dreams alive with feelings of love and acceptance.

Things have come full circle. But, oh what a circle of completion it is. As impossible as that may be to the minds of logic and geometric explanation.

Certain things simply cannot be explained.

Surviving

2008-02-07T19:43:00.000-05:00

So, Survivor premieres tonight.
Need I really say more?

This has become a tradition in our little family, my children and I.
We pop the corn, grab the M&Ms (one of the few times I allow candy AND it is on a school night--ain't I a cool Mom?)
and beach out in front of the TV for some laughter at the silly antics, some wowing at the bugs and creatures on the exotic islands, some cheering for the challenges, pretty much an all-around good time.

Just me and my kids, hanging out.

This is funny ya'll

2008-01-29T19:30:00.000-05:00

So, we are getting ready to eat supper (yeah, we say supper) and I was handing out the placemats for the table.
On two of the mats is a map of the country with some trivia and of course, the capitol for each state.

The following conversation ensued:

"Max, do you know the capitol city of Montana?"

To which my adorable, darling son replied while rolling his eyes and heaving a sigh:

"Of course I do, Momma. Everyone knows that the capitol of Montana is M."

Of course it is.

Past Expectations. Present Realizations. Future Predictions.

2008-01-28T07:48:00.000-05:00

I found something.
Not something that was lost, but something I once considered valuable. Treasured it enough to make sure I packed it among valuable keepsakes.
I now consider it a porthole to a time in my life where I was full of innocence, dreams, the freshness of youth.

My highschool graduation dreambook. You know of which books I speak, those glossy, plastic obnoxiously colored binders that contain pages entitled "in five years, I see myself" and "by ___age I will be married and have ___children".

When I laid eyes on this book, I almost laughed out loud with glee. Along with the potent smell of the plastic, rushed forth the smell of my high school, the feelings of being a senior and feeling like all the world is at your fingertips. Like a tidal wave, it cascaded over me, flooding me with emotions and memories. Out fell various cards, envelopes and photos from that year.
Where did I see myself in ten years? Finishing med school. (oh, yeah. I remember that dream)
I would be married by 25 and have 3 children. Well, so that didn't quite play out now did it? At least the married part. As for the children I was blessed more than I thought I would be.

Looking through the photos, I found one of the friend I have lost touch with and have been trying to locate for over a year now. She and I had a close friendship back then, planned to live near one another and let our children grow up together, but didn't protect the bond from distance and life choices that carried us far away from one another, little bits at a time, yet more rapidly than we realized and too fast to hold on.
I came across the picture of my first love. The man I was engaged to when I was but a mere 17, naive' and nothing but a child. He was in the Navy and I thought he was the best thing that ever happened to me. But once again, distance changed that, he went his way through the world, we tried to hang on while he was transferred here and there across the country, but it is hard to grow a relationship when you only see one another twice a year. So, that too, fell away.
I saw staring back at me the face of a friend who died two years after graduation. She sacrificed her mind, body, and spirit to those strong forces of evil and before her passing, became a stranger to me despite our decade of friendship.
Lost in the moment now, I plowed through the lists of favorite songs, movie stars, and other superficial, yet *very important* information. Seems strange now, to ask a graduate favorite color, food, place to hang out. But, now through the eyes of a 32 year old, it is for these moments. Moments where we, as adults, get a chance to read about the things we forgot about ourselves. The things that were important to us, and are important to our children...an opportunity to remember and possibly resurrect old dreams and passions.
Holding the tassel and reading the graduation announcement, I felt her. She swept past me, wrapped her arms around me, I could hear her laughter far off in the distance. She is still there, that girl. Her dreams may have evolved, her predictions may have altered, as life tends to have it's own plans and paths of destiny. I see her when i watch my daughters play. I hear her in their little voices, as they chatter and dream about, one day, being big girls.

Reluctantly, I packed my book away in its safe place, probably to remain there for another ten years. Maybe when my children are near the age I was when i wrote it, I will bring it back out and share it. Share the person I was before I was Mommy. Because she is worth getting to know too.

Building memories. And a bear or two.

2008-01-16T11:51:00.001-05:00

Best thing since sliced bread, or microwave pancakes, or squeezable jelly...you get the idea.

2008-01-08T07:40:00.000-05:00

Little People are the best toys ever. Period.

They don't squawk, screech, light up, wail, chime, or chirp.

They require no batteries. They are totally cute.

The one thing they do require is imagination on the part of the child playing with them.

A novel concept among today's toy industry ~ toys that actually require a child to interact instead of just sit and observe.

My kids have always had these treasures, and my youngest is most interested in them right now.

Thankfully, Little People are versatile. They can go in the bathtub, outside, to bed ~ pretty much anywhere and everywhere. A quick clean-up with disinfectant and a cloth and they are good as new.

They are relatively inexpensive, can be found in any store that sells toys, and over the past few years have only undergone minor cosmetic changes, thereby not changing their appeal whatsoever.

I wish I was collecting a check for saying all of these promotional and positive things about Little People, but alas, such is not the case. I was simply compelled by reasons unexplainable to rave about my child's favorite plaything!

The Passing of time

2008-01-07T07:36:00.000-05:00

A few days ago marked the 6-month anniversary of this fire. As you can see the two upper apartments were completely lost, the fire began in the top right apartment. Ironically, or perhaps not so, this same apartment experienced a kitchen fire not even two months prior. The bottom two were beyond repair from smoke and water damage, and of course the loss of the floor/ceiling of the upper two.

If you haven't guessed already, this is the fire that occurred in the building directly across from mine; the photo was taken from my window within days after it happened. The families have all since been relocated to other apartments within the same complex. The manager of the complex had that taken care of within a week and she earned respect among the residents for that, as it wasn't an easy feat. In communities such as this, rumors fly and accusations run rampant. The fire was said to have been caused by fireworks (it happened overnight of July 4th), but the residents all have different stories as to what they saw and heard.

Over the course of the last few months we have seen inspectors come and go, curious onlookers, news media as well as fire department personnel and law enforcement. A fence has been erected around the perimeter to keep rubbish and loose chunks from falling onto the children playing nearby as well as an attempt to keep the too-curious from climbing up and snooping around. The trees that burned have been chopped down.

No lives were lost and materials can be repurchased, so what is the problem? The problem is that the building is still sitting here. Untouched. Talk is of leveling and rebuilding from the bottom up, but no trucks or dozers have come, no men in hard hats, no surveyors. Everyday we look out our windows to see the reminder of what can happen in the blink of an eye, which I am not saying is entirely a bad thing, but it does wear on one's psyche. The victims, all living nearby, must drive past this building during the course of living their daily lives. Therapeutic? I hardly think so. Our children are constantly reminded of tragedy and loss as they chase soccer balls and footballs around the courtyard. It is never far from our minds.

Perhaps this New year will bring much-needed change to our community. In more ways than one.

The very long New Year Meme thing

2008-01-03T19:00:00.000-05:00

Inspired by Joy, whose blog I admire and look forward to reading, I am attempting to write this New Year's Meme'.
And it is going to be very long, just so ya know. You might get a neato little gold star sticker if you can actually hang in there and read all the answers, and you might just find out a little more bout me that you did not already know.
Anyway, here goes!

1. What did you do in 2007 that you had never done before?
Started this blog. Seriously bombed an interview.

2.Did you keep last year's resolutions? If not, will you make more this year?
My main goal last year was to finish school, which I did.

3.Did anyone close to you give birth?
No. No one close, although I know several women who had babies.

4.Did anyone close to you die?
Thankfully, no.

5.Did you visit any new countries?
As far as new countries go, no. Last year we did not actually travel anywhere, come to think of it. I was too busy with my last semester of school, then my internship. Before we realized it, fall was upon us and the kids were back in school. The most traveling we did was on the parkway, gazing at the beautiful fall foliage.

6.What do you want in 2008, that you lacked in 2007?
A job. A real home, not this tiny apartment in this housing community. A van. Very materialistic, though it sounds.

7.What dates in 2007 are etched in your memory forever?
August 3rd. My graduation from WCU.

8.What was your biggest achievement of the year?
See number seven.

9. What was your biggest failure of 2007?
That would be second-guessing myself. When it really mattered.

10.What as the best thing I bought in 2007?
That would have to be, hands down, my participation ticket for the 10K in the Charlotte Racefest in April. I plundered my way through but dammit I finished and it felt way too good. On the air was floating the fragrance of spring blossoms, the streets were lined with majestic houses and tall beautiful trees with leaves the palest of new green. And I was with my brother who I must mention is an avid runner. He took the time and patience to stay right there with me, encouraging me when I would have quit for sure if I had been by myself. As I approached the finish line I felt a burst of energy like nothing else I have ever felt before. Suddenly, I could do it. I was the run. It was phenomenal.

11.Whose behavior merited celebration?
The man who ran into the burning building to save his grandma, who was still inside sleeping as the building was ablaze. Courage unparalleled, in my opinion. I am of course, referring to the fire that occurred in the building directly across from mine last July 4th, and the dramatic scene that unfolded in front of my eyes that fateful night.

12.Whose behavior appalled and disgusted you?
My children's father, who failed to see them at all the entire year, marking the second full year of his absence from their lives.
Also, my own behavior from time to time astonished me--I can be very self-absorbed it seems.

13. What song will remind you of 2007?
Well, for me, a music fanatic, this question is impossible to answer with simply one song. I am the kind of music fiend that latches onto a certain song for a period of time, then moves onto another one. I listen to certain types of music depending on my mood. To exercise, I want something slightly aggressive, but not rude or immoral. To unwind, I like older music, some jazz or even eighties music. Bluegrass is a great genre choice for warm summer evenings sitting on the porch drinking sweet tea and relaxing with mouth-watering BBQ only yards away. So, for me, to narrow it down to one song is simply undoable. I did enjoy Natasha Beddingfield's Unwritten quite a lot, though I must admit.

14. What do you wish you had done more of in 2007?
Hugging my children. Playing with my children--immersing myself completely in their world of imagination and endless possibilities.
Stomach crunches.
Read.

15. What do you wish you had done less of?
Geez. That is a toughie. Probably yelling at my kids. Looking in the mirror and criticizing. Complaining about things I cannot change.

16. Did you fall in love in 2007?
Also a tough one for me to answer, for reasons I will leave unexplained for now. Feelings are tough things to sort through and understand. Falling in love might mean something entirely different now to me than it did when i was twenty. Or not. I just do not know. And I have made peace with that...for now.

17. What was your favorite TV program?
Can't choose. Survivor. The Closer. One reality. The other crime drama with a southern flair--very entertaining in a slightly addictive kind of way.

18. What was the best book you read?
The Game of Life by Florence Shinn.

19. What would have made your year measurably more satisfying?
Realizing at the beginning of the year instead of the end that our patterns drive our behavior. They make our choices for us until we begin to realize this and take over the controls of our own life.

20. How would you describe your personal fashion concept in 2007?
Non-existent. I wear what is comfortable. I paint my toenails, but cannot stand to have my fingernails painted. I do not own high heels, pumps, or the like. I have not purchased make-up in 13 years. I am What not To Wear 's nightmare. That ain't seen nothin' yet!

21. What kept you sane?
Evening coffee with my Mother, the wisest woman on earth. And she can cook too.

22. Who do you miss?
Tiffany. My best friend in high school. We lost touch seven years ago and I cannot locate her.

23. Who was the best new person you met?
Well, with that question, I realize that I did not get out much at all last year. The best person I met was the Social Worker who let me shadow her all summer in the Investigations unit at the county DSS where I did 280 hours of internship for class credit before graduation. She was so unbelievably patient, allowing my blunders and not making me feel bad or stupid, or that I should already know it. She gave me errands to run that taught me something, she helped fill my time there each day with constructive activity, she always let me ride along on home visits and appointments so I could get some field training. She taught me how to run the copier-printer-fax-do-everything-except-make-coffee machine.
All of this was done, I might add, of her own volition. My supervisor was the equivalent of a wet mop ~ having no itinerary for me, no agenda at all. I think I saw her three times all summer.

24. Tell us a valuable lesson you learned.
Easy. Do not trust jobs that come through Career builder, even though their website may appear authentic and real. Even though they have real contact addresses. Even though they say that they have read and reviewed your resume'. No, seriously, the moral of the story is that things are not always as they appear, and if it sounds too good to be true, then it is usually. Valuable lesson learned. Yep, got that one loud and clear people.

25. Quote a song lyric that sums up your year.

This is from Kenny Rogers song The Greatest.
(verse three) boy has already thrown the ball up and tried to bat many times, missing each and every one.
Adjusts his hat, tries again.
Ball goes up
Moon so bright
swings his bat with all his might
the world is still as still can be
the baseball falls and that's strike three

now it is supper time and his mama calls
boys starts home with his bat and ball
says "I am the greatest, that is a fact
but even I didn't know
I could pitch like that"

says "I am the greatest
that is understood
but even I didn't know
I could pitch that good."

I think that song is so representative of how we can choose to look at things. The little boy chose to walk home a champion, not a loser, in the way he interpreted the situation. That is how I plan to look at 2008. With hope, enjoyment and the desire to achieve.
-

Happy 100!

2008-01-01T16:30:00.000-05:00

It is official. I have joined the club. Along with New Year 2008 I can celebrate my 100th post!

One hundred entries of my life, some sad, some ranting and raving, some longing and painful, many happy ~ read by friends and family.
I enjoy being a part of this new family ~ you, my bloggy friends who read about my life, whose lives touch me and I enjoy reading about, who care enough to stop by and share a virtual moment or two, who come to visit me often and leave me with comforting and encouraging thoughts, helpful hints or opinions. I appreciate each and every one of you and have learned a lot from you and your own blog writing.

Earning the top slot of my Resolution list this year, after some toggling with the more normal and very boring promises one makes at the start of a new year, is the promise to myself to become a better writer ~ more learned, more expressive. I have always had a passion for reading and writing, and I am going to devote a part of each day in this new year to enhancing that part of myself, to strengthening and nurturing the ability to write the words I know are inside my soul. Hey, maybe it will take the place of my chocolate fix each day...yeah, I don't think so either.

Did you make any out-of-the-ordinary resolutions for yourself this year?

Happy New Year!

2007-12-31T17:13:00.000-05:00

Happy New Year from all of us over here in the Western NC mountains, where we are fervently wishing for just a little bit of snow!

My Father's eyes

2007-12-28T08:42:00.000-05:00

In my father's eyes...

How do I appear?
What am I to him? Source of pride, or cause of restless indignation.
Is he regretful of who I have become?

In my father's eyes,
Do I exhibit strength?
Or have I succumbed to weakness, the culmination of bad choices. The 'told you so' poster child perhaps.

Is there respect? Admiration?
Or just lost dreams and wishes for what could have been, should have been. Hope and potential dashed.

In his arms I danced, just a little wisp of a girl, tiny and innocent with all of life stretched out ahead in colorful beckoning, sunny liquid dreams just waiting to be absorbed.
In his face, I gazed.
On his lap I took comfort.
In his arms I took refuge.
On his feet, I walked. Trying, yearning to be like him. To be be strong, to carry life with dignity and intellect.

My Daddy.
Have I let you down?
I have not always taken the high road and have made some choices I regret; choices I would change, if this world allowed second chances on such things.
Daddy, I implore you, I am trying to make it all right. As I raise my children, without their Daddy.
Am I strong enough?
Can I be Mommy and Daddy to my little boys and my little girls, offering security and comfort as you did?

I weep as I watch my girls search for Daddy's lap, not able to imagine the pain in their hearts as it eludes them.
Who will dance with them?
Whose feet will they stand upon?
Into whose gentle, forgiving eyes will they gaze?
Whose strong arms will scoop them up when they fall?

Daddy, I am sorry.
I have created pain, in not following your advice, in failing to heed your words, so many years ago.
I disregarded the wisdom I knew you held fast.

Daddy, please forgive me.
Please love me despite my transgressions and mistakes.

Nothing else matters except my reflection,

In my father's eyes.

Edited to add: Ok, so it isn't that nothing else matters, really. It is just that I often wonder, from the eyes of a parent, how my own father views me and the choices I have made. Truth be told, I also wonder about my mother's perspective of who I have become.

Christmas chores may not be so bad after all

2007-12-21T07:41:00.000-05:00

I hate to wrap. Not just Christmas presents, any present. I feel it is a waste of time, a lot of effort for nothing, not to mention a waste of cash.
BUT, it is what is expected of gift-givers, especially during the holiday season. So wrap I did, last night, after I felt I could really put it off no longer.

I retreated to my room, locked the door, and readied myself for the task ahead. I turned on the holiday music station, began listening to Delila choose songs for the woeful, the happy, and the Christmas music addicts (of which I actually am one, so I can't say much there). I sorted my accoutrement's ~ tape, scissors, gift tags, etc. I unpacked the festive paper covered in snowmen and Santa's, left from last year because I must have thought wrapping paper would no longer ever be manufactured so therefore bought like 1800 feet of the stuff. Ironic, I know. But, a sale is a sale, what can I say?

I wrapped the first gift.
Then the second.
I listened to the different stories of Christmas traditions being told by the callers to the radio station.
And then it happened.
I realized that I was actually having a good time. I was on the 7th, then the 8th gift and found myself no longer watching the clock, coming up with distractions or wishing I was doing something else.

I began thinking about the course of events in my life these last few months, the snowballs life has thrown my way, and the fact that I still haven't found employment, despite my vehement efforts; I realized that I should be grateful that I even have presents to wrap for my children, not whining about the required duty of wrapping. After all, there was a time I thought I wouldn't have anything for them. I reminded myself that there was a time, not too many weeks ago that I was planning the discussion I was going to have with my children. How I was going to be forced to break it to them that there would be no magical Santa gift, no presents under the tree on Christmas morning, and how that actually made my heart physically hurt. How quickly we forget.

I began to ponder how lucky I am that I have my children with me and they are not far away fighting a war of pain and suffering, or gone ~ lost forever, leaving me with nothing but the memories.
Still wrapping along, I listened to one story after another of people that do not have their loved ones with them this holiday season. One mother hasn't seen her son for three years and won't see him for three more years because he is stationed overseas and neither one can travel to the other. Six years without the chance to hug her son, to touch him, to cook for him, and yet she was sounding positive and grateful for what she did have. Of course, some of the callers wanted to hear a song that expressed their love toward a spouse or significant other, a connection that seems to bolster during this time of year.

Before I knew it, I was wrapping the last present, one for my youngest daughter. I smiled as I thought of the fun she would have playing with it, the laughter I would hear, the carefree happiness I would be privilege to observe.
Last piece of tape applied, I stood back to admire my job, one that took less than two hours. A chore that turned out to be a joyful experience and a learning experience as well.
I sat down and listened to one more personal testimony followed by one of my favorite songs of the season ~ Christmas Cannon ( Merry Christmas Night) by the Transiberian Orchestra.
Somewhat reluctantly, not wanting the time to end, I put away my wrapping tools, packed away the rest of the paper, strategically repositioned the gifts in various hiding places until the magical day. I turned off the music, turned around once more to make sure everything was hidden, caught the light and walked back out to join my children.

Christmas chores may not be so bad after all.

To my children

2007-12-20T07:50:00.000-05:00

To My children,

My babies,

I watch you grow, learn, live.

I love you all more than I thought possible. Far gone are the days when, pregnant with each of you, I asked myself, "will I have enough love to go around"?

I watch you play and be with one another, most of the time happily, sometimes frustrated with each other but fostering and cultivating relationships that will outlast, out stand, and outwit any others each of you will form with others in your lives. You are brothers and sisters.

Forever.

I try to instill in you the values, the morals you will need to be strong with and for one another, to confront the world, to stay connected to who you are and where you came from. From love.

I gaze into your little faces, noticing each day a little more knowledge, a little more independence, more awareness of the way this world works. Which frightens me and thrills me simultaneously. I see you experience pain, and my heart breaks as I want to take it from you, but I know that in order to become well-rounded and complete, you must experience pain.

I watch you revel in joy and eagerness and my heart sings.

I hear you call for me, a sweet sound on my ears, and sometimes I don't listen to you. I hurt you with my ignorance, with my impatience.

I see each of you changing, just as I grow comfortable with who you are in the moment. This keeps me on my toes and I thank you.

I feel your arms wrap around my neck for a squeeze, or ask for a kiss, and I want to melt into the moment and save it, bottle the feeling for the days when you are all grown and gone from my home, living your own busy lives, as time marches on.

You are all teachers, to me, to each other.

Thank you for coming to me, for trusting me to be the one to teach you, to mother you. Sometimes I fall short of my duties and you forgive me with the innocence of your childlike hearts.

We are a family, my children, you and I.

Forever.

Edited to add: Ok, so the picture is a bit off center, my hair is a wreck and pulled back from my face, Jacob looks half-stoned, and we all look worn out, but hey, it was Thanksgiving! We were drunk on turkey and way too much pumpkin pie!

Spirit of the Season

2007-12-16T18:50:00.000-05:00

In the spirit of the season, I am going to write about what we did today.
The Christmas cookie baking marathon.
I will have to post the pics later, though, as I am worn completely out and don't want to face the task of fighting with my camera to upload the pictures (my camera and my computer tend to gang up on me whenever I try to upload a specific picture and the whole process can drag on for a long time).

The soundtrack from Polar Express playing, we gathered around the table for cookie shaping, decorating, tasting, and finally baking--a mere formality of course. It was the perfect day to be indoors surrounded by the aroma of fresh baked treats. Snow flurries blowing, wind whistling.
Children chattering, growing more excited by the moment, also getting stickier as each minute passes. Sounds of the season floating along the air, landing on our ears and inviting Christmas into our hearts.
Cheery, rosy faces, dancing eyes, the decision of which frosting to dig into next. Which shape to form, which sprinkles are worthy of the creation.

Sneaky fingers lick the tasty sugary concoction ever so quickly. Maybe Mom won't notice, but she does and she smiles, as she too grabs a finger-full.
Children talking excitedly of wishes and desires, hopes for what might lie beneath the tree on the most magical morning of the year. Will it snow?
Times like these are to treasure, to relish, to savor.
Every year, the kids and I make cookies, as many families do. It is a fun, loud, messy occasion, but one I wouldn't trade for a million dollars. Time to bond with my kids, time to be a bit childish myself, time to just be together. Time to teach my kids what the season is really all about, because I know that above all, gifts will come and go, but when they are grown they will remember these times of being a family, of being with one another and having fun, and that is what the season will mean for them, as it does for me.
A Happy Holiday Season to all of you, thank you for your constant patronage of my blog. It means a lot to me to see the comments you leave, the time you take to read about my life. May you all be blessed this season.

The Thinking Chair

2007-12-12T10:18:00.000-05:00

I can see her.
She knows it, but wants to make sure.
Entirely sure. Every two seconds.

She peers around the corner, ever so slowly...
"Journey. Sit up straight" I say.
She obeys. For 10 seconds.

She peers around the corner again. Almost without even moving.
"Journey" I say sternly. "I said sit there for your five minutes".

I hear her sit back, defiantly, somewhat defeated, but not completely. Never completely.
I watch. Without watching.

One minute passes, legs begin swinging, humming commences.
"Journey" I say. "You must be quiet while you are sitting".

A total of three minutes have passed now, since the girl had to go to the thinking chair. Eternity.

She peers around the corner at me with big eyes. She knows the rules. Yet, still I see the flicker of playfulness on her lips. She isn't suffering yet.
"Journey" I say, trying to sound angry, hiding my mouth as it smiles.

She sighs, loudly, dramatically, and settles back for her few more minutes of torture.
Tick..
Tock..

I watch.
Eyes peer, once again around the corner, to see if I am watching her sit like a big girl, all nice and quiet-like. 'Cause there is nothing harder in the world for chirpy, giggly girls than to have to sit still AND quietly for five minutes.
"Come here Journey" I say, and she runs to me, glad once again for her freedom. I give her a hug and off she runs to frolic.
Carefree.

Just my biased opinion

2007-12-03T16:19:00.000-05:00

My boy, Max.

Today is Max's birthday. He is turning seven and I am literally wondering where the time has gone since that sweet thing was curled up on my chest sleeping peacefully.

Those cheeky cheeks, the deep baby blue eyes so full of trust. Why was I chosen to be a mother to this precious little person? How am I worthy?

Max isn't like most other 7 year old boys, you see (yeah, of course I am biased, but just listen). He is different. Well, at least I think so. Naturally, he loves cars and trucks, Lego's, and the other things that boys this age do for fun, but there is something beyond that for Max. He reaches out, and from that he gains satisfaction. He is a person that constantly thinks of others. He helps his little sisters voluntarily. It is rare that I have to fuss at him, and when I do, it is usually just enough to sternly say, "Max!" He loves to cook. He is a protector. He is a bright child with promising academic potential.

Never have I met a child that is sometimes so selfless he could be an example for most adults. I stand in awe. The child offers of himself, his affection, his love--all so unconditionally and gladly. He has a certain intuition like that of a wise old man. He is an old soul, wise beyond his seven little years.

Unfortunately, along with this type of sensitive personality comes hardship, especially for a child in a world like ours. Because he is sensitive and visibly affected by things that happen, he is ridiculed for his feelings, the neighborhood children take joy in making him cry. They bully him and jeer at him, calling him names like 'gay boy' and 'pretty boy' . Yet, he stands strong. At least, for right now. He isn't afraid to be himself, but how long will that last? Will kids like these finally chase the caring nature from my son forever? These are worries that keep me up at night. I vacillate between interfering in these incidents and letting him work it out on his own--not wanting to make it worse. An age-old problem with bullying. But, nowadays, with incidents like Columbine, we see what bullying can cause even the most normal children to do when pushed to the edge.

I want to protect my son. To convince him that the way he is...well it is special, something to treasure and protect, and those children that hurt him, when they grow up will realize this. Or at least they will come to realize what is missing from their own hearts.

But will it be too late for my little boy?

Today, though, is not a day for worries like these. Not today.
Today is a day filled with surprises, happy decorations, excitement...and most of all--CAKE.

Happy Birthday Max.

Mommy loves you beyond measure.

edited to add: The picture above is of Max at the fair this fall, helping out with Serenity while we were waiting on the circus show to begin. For me, she was squirming, screaming, wanting to get down and run. For him, she sat pleasantly as he talked to her and fed her his treats.

The Journey

2007-11-30T08:08:00.000-05:00

Five years ago, the Journey began.
To my daughter Journey, who yesterday welcomed her fifth birthday with the zeal and vitality only five-year-old girls can muster.
My daughter, five years ago, I held you for the first time. Inspected your tiny toes and fingers, held you close to my bosom, drinking in your delicious baby scent.
My daughter, five years ago, I wondered how I could possibly love you so much the moment I met you.
I asked my self How was I going to be as a mother to a little girl? Boys I could handle, but a little girl?
You entered this world rapidly and beautifully, but only after changing your mind twice, and today, my child, you are still the same in mind and spirit.

The morning of your birth, it was discovered that you were in a position that was unfriendly for the birthing process. The doctors forced your little body to turn around and initiated the labor process. They said it was necessary to go ahead and hurry you up a little bit. You would not be commanded so easily, and you showed them that by turning around again, happy as you please. That caused the situation to intensify because the doctors feared a cord accident if you remained in that position during labor. So Mommy was prepped in a hurry for a C-section. There were no signs of distress, but the doctors wanted it to stay that way. As I lay immobile on the operating table, the nurse spoke in a voice I will never forget.

"Doctor? That baby has turned herself around again! Take a look at this!"
The doctor ordered for an ultrasound machine to be brought in, and sure enough. You had decided on your own time to position yourself for birth, and by golly, you couldn't have been more perfectly situated, nicely engaged in the birth canal just hanging out, waiting on everyone else to regroup and discover that they were not in charge of your birth, you were.
Now with no reason or medical justification to perform a c-section the medical team wheeled Mommy back to L&D and labor began immediately and efficiently. The midwife examined and said, "Oh, it will be a few hours", so off she went to grab a bite to eat, having been at the hospital for hours already, by my side through this whole experience. I said to your Nana, who was also there the whole time, "you know, I think it will be a lot sooner than that". Two hours later, I was holding you. Three hours before they thought you would be ready. Once again, it was obvious, you were in control.
The next evening and days were tough and wonderful. Exciting and full of anxiety. As I welcomed you, got to know you, tried to understand you and care for you the way you were demanding. Questioning my abilities and feeling my instinct kick in to guide the way.

Throughout my pregnancy with you, I felt myself open up and become more sensitive, more feminine, more gentle. People would say to me "Heather, you actually glow". I would just smile and shrug my shoulders, but I felt it too. Never before had I been able to cry at movies, offer hugs freely, or... wear pink (laugh if you must, but it is true). Carrying you I embarked on a journey of personal growth and discovery. I could feel your spirit, so innocent and angelic, so feminine and friendly. You were going to be a 'girlie' girl, yet I also felt a strength from deep inside you. A strength that would one day hold power.

So, your name, Journey, is appropriate for a multitude of reasons. Right now, you love your name and I hope that you will throughout your life, recognizing the importance and meaning behind it. To this day, the nurses and midwives in the doctor's office, when speaking of your birth, marvel in your ability to maneuver around in such a tight space, not just one time, but twice (babies don't usually do that so close to birth because there is just not enough room left for them to move around). They had never seen anything like it before.

I can't wait to see what the next five years hold in store for us.
I love you.
Mommy.

Warning! Very hyper, yet undeniably adorable child trying to obliterate the 8 pm bedtime

2007-11-26T15:33:00.001-05:00

Yes, after an hour of climbing, wallowing, wrestling, and giggling around, this little angel finally went off to sleep.

Out of the loop

2007-11-21T16:48:00.000-05:00

I am so behind on posting, but I have been reading my blogroll, although leaving very few comments behind I am afraid.
I have not yet figured out how to blog, maintain sanity, and stay home all day with my kids. The girls are ready to have my full attention before 8 a.m. and I am still on coffee mode at that time of the day. We have danced to Hap Palmer, painted, colored, played with play dough--all by 10 a.m. usually. and how many trips to the library in one week is allowed before people wonder? I am enjoying the time with my girls, but alas, something must give and it has been my blogging, which I sincerely miss.
I guess I will be in and out for awhile, but still reading and keeping up with you all. I will also be updating on the surrogacy, but all still looks well and transfer is tentatively scheduled for late Jan/early Feb.

I think we are ready to welcome the holiday with all of it's chaos and eating too much food. Hope everyone else has a wonderful turkey day,
'til next time.

Heather

S.O.S.

2007-11-08T10:46:00.000-05:00

My son Jacob. My eldest, my most challenging child.

I wonder, is it possible to love your child, but not like him very much?
I ask because, lately Jacob and I have been butting heads about everything and anything, from less serious things like the clothes he wears to more serious problems such as his disrespect and attitude toward the members of his family recently.

He is a wonderful boy and I cherish his existence, but I am wondering if he and I will survive his preteen years, let alone the teenage years! During these past couple weeks, Jacob has been mouthy, rude, too aggressive with his brother (that begs another whole post - why MUST boys wrestle?), and attempting to emulate the 'bad crowd'. Yes, there is most certainly a bad crowd already in the fourth grade - especially in public schools. Heck I think Kindergarten has it's rising issues in that area, as children these days place significant importance on clothing, shoes, who has which video games/Ipods/cell phones, but that also needs it's own post.

If I say one thing, my son says the opposite. No matter what. No matter if he knows he is right, it is simply to contradict me and I see it. I have tried taking privileges away, grounding him, and sitting him away from anything and everyone in an effort to take all stimulation away (a form of behavior therapy that worked with him for years). But gosh, now the child is simply unpleasant to be around and I feel myself brace when he comes in the door because I just know it isn't going to end well - whatever it is.

Those of you with boys, or girls, who have been dealing with issues such as these, or of course any of you readers that may have expertise in this area of parenting, I beg you to please offer up some new ideas. Parenting mags just don't cut it anymore. I am tired already and we have barely begun the journey.

One Day at a Time

2007-11-04T07:59:00.000-05:00

We all know the phrase, "One day at a time", but let me expand on it's significance in my life as of late. Oftentimes we focus on the future, what might happen, what could happen, and get ourselves all worked up before we even really know what is in fact going to occur. I subscribe to the theory that if we remain in the present, in the moment, we can achieve a happier state of being and truly be at peace with whatever we are confronting in the moment.

Those of you who read my blog on a regular basis are aware of my situation concerning the scam and it's repercussions on my job and family. So, as a person must in this kind of circumstance to keep from going crazy, I have stopped fighting and questioning and berating myself, and embraced the way things are going to be for now. Of course, I am human and that does not mean that I don't have some moments of tears and frustrations, but I think the key to moving on and opening new doors is to not remain stuck in all that fear and emotion but let those feelings have validation and flow through. As I wrote a few days ago, being more aware has brought me a feeling of peace and I have been in a different state of mind for the past few days.
Don't get me wrong, I have focused on finding work from home, but not obsessed over it, following whatever lead presented itself. I have practiced holding fast to the state of mind that knows everything will be okay, and relaxed. It is amazing how things are simply falling into place, as I focus on taking it day by day, moment by moment, even those things I thought were not going to take place for such a long time.
As of yesterday I believe I have found a little something to do from home to earn enough money to be okay right now, so that burden is lifted, thankfully. But at the same time, along with that satisfaction, is an unexpected yet pleasantly surprising development.

Much to my delight and surprise, the carrier agency I had been working with for a long time ( to be a gestational carrier) contacted me last week with good news. I had pretty much shelved the idea of being a carrier and as is often the case, things are falling into place now that I have stopped trying to make it happen.

First, let me offer some background info on this situation with the agency. After 10 months of working with this agency (since Nov. 2006), being matched, and then everything falling through at literally the last moment (in July 2007), I just backed off figuring it just wasn't meant to be or wasn't the right time. In August, I let the agency know that I was still interested and when they had a couple, they could contact me, but that until then, I was not going to initiate contact or inquire further. I just had to let it go and wait to see if it would come back to me in it's own time, knowing that if it did, then it was meant to be. The whole situation was very disappointing because I had really wanted to be a gestational carrier, put a lot of time and effort into getting all the required documentation, and most importantly, felt a connection with the Intended Mother with whom I had originally been matched. But, hard as we tried, it just wasn't meant to happen. There was always some kind of issue that was holding everything up and the process lingered on for months, frustrating everyone involved until finally all the blocks tumbled down around us, disintegrating the whole thing.

My motivation for being a carrier was/is that I can't imagine life without my kids and since pregnancy is something I enjoy and I have experienced no health problems while pregnant with my children, I determined that I had something to contribute, and it was my heart's desire to do so. I put years of contemplation into this decision and initiated the process in 2006, feeling that I had reached the place in my life where I was ready. To make a very long story short, my profile was sent out again last week and was accepted by a couple who sound very nice. This time things are moving along at a rapid pace and the pieces are falling into place effortlessly. I am very much looking forward to this opportunity and, if it actually happens I will post updates often - especially when the transfer takes place and whether or not it means Baby!

Down the Road

2007-11-02T10:51:00.000-04:00

...The glow of the red tail lights against the cool, still-dark morning
...The brightness of the interior lights beckoning all to come within
...Children's excited voices purring
...Parent's nervous small talk
...The hum of the heavy engine

We arrived a half hour early and still found ourselves swallowed up in a huddle of parents, teachers, and excited students, arms heavy with paper lunch sacks, CD players, and water bottles.

The boys and girls, most of whom arose at 4 a.m. due to sheer anticipation are headed off on an adventure. The fourth grade field trip - lasting 13 hours.

For many, it is their first experience riding a charter bus and the excitement is too much to contain, spilling over in ramblings about nothing and everything all at once.
My Jacob is a member of this drone of carefree travelers.
My baby.
Headed down the road, in a very large bus. Without me.

Sometime last month, the conversation went something like this:

"Jacob, do you want me to go with you?" I asked.
"Aww Mom, I am old enough. Please can I go by myself?"
"Well," I say, trying to decide if I thought he was ready, "ok, buddy, I guess you are old enough." I rationalized that although he is only nine, he does very well in school (actually was just invited into the AIG program), has a good relationship with his teachers, and has been showing some maturity around home lately.

So, there I was this morning, standing off to the side with my cup of coffee which had grown cool in the crisp morning air, as my little/big boy climbed aboard with a quick "Bye Mom!"
I watched him clamber to the back of the bus, locate his buddies, plunk his backpack down, and settle in.
As I turned to walk back to the car, I can't be sure, but I believe the sound I heard was apron strings popping. But, I can't be certain of course.

Edited to add: The Boy has returned, safe and sound. And asking for an Ipod.

Pirate's Booty...well, kids' Booty is more like it

2007-11-01T14:37:00.001-04:00

The Loot...Need I say more?

Well, I will, of course. We made a 1 & 1/2 hour trek through the neighborhood last night. This was the first year in a long time, I think since Jacob was 2, that I took the kids trick-or-treating. We have usually gone to various church festivals, but this year decided to give the trick-or-treating thing a whirl. Was fun, but sure has changed since I was a kid.

People are nice enough but only give out one small treat or a roll of smarties (one roll) or a piece of gum. I mean, come on. These kids get all dressed up, are trained in the polite spiel of "trick or treat" and "thank you", their parents' feet hurt, and all these people can part with is one snack-size Snickers bar?

But, as you can see, we ended up with more than enough to go around, I actually did not have to carry Serenity, didn't lose any kids, no one got hurt, and I think we even had a little bit of fun.

Thank goodness it only comes once a year!

Owls

2007-10-31T14:07:00.000-04:00

Here is a special Halloween/Fall treat we enjoy each year. Try it out!

Recipe:

2/3 cup shortening, soft
1 c. firmly packed brown sugar
1 egg
1 tsp. vanilla
1 c. crunchy peanut butter
1 1/3 c. sifted all-purpose flour
1 tsp. baking powder
1/2 tsp. salt
1 c. oatmeal
1 1-oz envelope no-melt chocolate
semisweet chocolate pieces for eyes
Whole cashews for nose

Combine shortening and sugar; beat until creamy. Add egg, vanilla, and peanut butter; blend thoroughly. In another bowl, sift flour, baking powder, and salt together. Add to the creamed mixture; blend well. Stir in oatmeal. Divide dough in half. Set one half aside. Shape other half to form roll 8 inches long. Add envelope chocolate to remaining half of dough. Roll out chocolate dough on waxed paper to form and 8 inch square. Place other roll on top of chocolate dough. Wrap chocolate dough around roll to make a log of sorts; pinch seam together, ends should show both chocolate dough and other dough. Wrap in waxed paper; chill at least 1 hour. Let stand at room temp for 10 minutes before cutting. Cut into 1/4 inch slices. Lay slices flat. Pinch chocolate dough on each slice at top to form ears for each owl face. Place the chocolate chips for eyes, and the cashew for the beak. Place on cookie sheet. Bake for 12-15 minutes at 350-degree oven. Makes about 30.

Kids and adults love these and they are actually somewhat healthy!

Wave of Peace

2007-10-30T09:34:00.000-04:00

It is hard to describe the way I felt this morning standing outside my apartment in the early sunrise, gazing at the colorful trees high on the mountain top through the layers of fog for which the Smokies are so famous. The air was a crisp 27 degrees; the perfect fall morning.

The feeling was sudden, it washed over me like a tidal wave. It covered me. I felt such a sense of tranquility and calmness flow through my body. My mind wanted to scream "but look at what is in front of you, look what just happened, what are you going to do!!" But, for some reason, and I am having a hard time finding the words to lend justice to the feeling, nothing mattered in that moment except for the feeling of peace. I reveled in it, feeling myself uplifted and placed back on track, knowing that although things look very dismal right now, all will be okay.

Today, I feel myself regaining balance, inner clarity and strength, though I can't explain why today and not yesterday or tomorrow, for everything is still in circumstance as it was when I retired to bed last evening. I have no tangible reason to feel better.

Yet, I do.

As I look around, I see things I do not usually notice within the hustle and bustle of normal activity. It is almost as if they are placed there solely for my awakening.

The car with a flat tire - a problem I do not have to face today.
The homeless person sitting in the intersection -- a problem I do not have to face today.
The jar at the gas station asking for money to help the child with cancer -- a problem we are not facing today.

I realize, with unarguable certainty, that although my family is up against some hard times, we could be facing even larger insurmountable issues, and within my gratefulness that we are not, I find lasting peace.

Thank You Virtually Much

2007-10-29T18:59:00.000-04:00

I just want to take a moment to thank everyone for spending a moment on my blog to read my story in the previous post and taking the time to leave words of encouragement and advice. It truly did brighten my dark time to know that there are folks out there that care. And a special thank you to Slouching Mom, who sent people my way to read and pass it on.

I am frantically searching for some kind of work that I can do from home, that is legitimate of course, to hold us over for a little while until I can find a permanent job and a new daycare for my girls that I trust. That is the long-term hang-up right now -- I can't snap my fingers and enroll them in a new daycare, because the decent ones are always full and have long waiting lists, and without daycare, I can't work -- viscious circle, but one we will overcome eventually. So, if anyone has any ideas in the area of jobs from home, it would be extremely helpful right now.
Thanks to some of the commenters on my post, I checked into NC Jobnetwork.com and filled out a couple of apps for work from home jobs like transcription and customer service calls, which also led me to other web sites that offer the same type of office work from home. I figure, as long as it isn't attached to my bank account in any way or asking me to pay for the job, it might be ok. Who knows? Just doing all I can do and keeping my fingers crossed at the same time that something will follow through.

SCAM

2007-10-28T08:16:00.000-04:00

Contrary to the fact that I thought a certain amount of wisdom and the ability to recognize an untruth comes with age, I was scammed this week.

Hopelessly, unexpectedly scammed. Beyond repair it seems. I have reached, or should I say sunk to a new level of gullibility.

Backing up a bit, let me explain. For the last three months, since finishing WCU, I have been job searching for something in the field of criminal justice or social work, as those were my programs of study. I have been working, while searching, as a preschool teacher because that has been my livelihood for thirteen years. I love working with children, but unfortunately, one cannot actually make a living working in childcare if he/she has a family to support. Very unfortunately.

So, three years ago I dropped everything, moved into subsidized housing (to minimize rent expenses so I could attend class full time), downgraded what luxuries we did enjoy, and hit the books for a solid three years until August of this year. Tough transition for all of us, but one I truly felt was going to benefit us in the long run. I was embarking on a journey that I thought would lead to a better life for my little family, as it had become apparent that their father did not want to participate in their lives long term. (By long term, I mean past the point of conception. He pretty much lost interest after that).

So, back to present times. I have sent out over 40 resumes, all to no avail. It seems that each time I hear the standard, "oh, we love the fact that you graduated Summa Cum Laude, however we need two years experience. Come find us then!". OR the job turned out to be something that would not fit my lifestyle as a single mother, which of course does not allow me to work nights or 12 hour shifts. It also appears that Asheville, where I reside, does not have a high call for social workers or court service workers, as it is mostly a tourist economy. Who knew? Guess I should have.

In frustration, I began to accept the fact that, for now, it was obvious that I would continue to work in the daycare and at least that would sustain us until I could either move to a different city or find more permanent employment. I posted my resume' on Careerbuilder, as a last-ditch effort to rake in the possible categories or places in the area that I had overlooked or didn't know about. WELL, do I wish I hadn't done that. Here begins the slippery slope.

I was contacted by a company stating that they had an opportunity for me, had reviewed my resume' through Careerbuilder and sent me an email with a link to a web page explaining their business, should I choose to accept their offer. I was intrigued, naturally, especially because the position would allow me to work from my PC at home and stay with my girls. I clicked over, read the entire site, felt it was legit, but just in case I sought advice from someone close to me. To make this part of the story short, I decided to take the offer, after a few days of thinking it over and looking into it a little deeper -- albeit, not deep enough. I reasoned that it couldn't be a scam because it was through careerbuilder, payed reasonably well for the task requirements, and I could begin immediately. Oh, if only I had had a crystal ball.

I put in notice at my existing job at the daycare, also let them know my girls would no longer need to attend, and plunged forth into a new opportunity. I was unbelievably excited at the prospect of being able to work from home and stay with my kids. I was going to be able to be with them, watch them grow, experience their joys, and enjoy their days instead of passing them off to a teacher every morning for her to do those things and enjoy my children the way I longed to. For those of you aware of how daycare works, there is always a waiting list at the good schools, so when children drop or terminate, their spots are usually immediately filled.

Two days ago, the bomb dropped. One day after I put in notice at my job and removed my girls from the school. Within a two hour period, as I attempted to process the first transaction requirement for my 'job', I came to the realization that something was dreadfully wrong. The transaction would not go through Paypal. They put a hold on the account awaiting further investigation. At first I was blinded by anger, then finally a silent, slow resolve fell over me like a dark cloak of doom.

This was indeed a scam, I was told. A money-laundering scam. A bogus company that preyed on people like me, through agencies such as Careerbuilder that made their facade seem even more legitimate. Because who would think that fake companies could gain access to people's personal info and resumes on job sites that proclaim the utmost security? They operate by stealing websites of reputable companies, rerouting the emails to their personal email and operate as such, using unsuspecting people like myself to do the dirty work of processing the fake shipments and accepting the dirty money payments into the Paypal account. What?! Excuse me? Fake payments? Dirty money?

I could not believe it. It was like a movie, or something that happens to someone else. How could I be so gullible and stupid as to not see the signs that I am certain must have been there. Did it sound to good to be true? Maybe. Did I want it too badly? Probably. In any case, I am left holding a very empty bag with very few possibilities left in it. I have no job, my girls have no school, and well, as a single parent those two issues are inconceivably huge to overcome.

Thanks for listening. Please pass this testimony on to anyone you love or care about in an effort to squash these companies and force job-searching sites to enforce even higher security measures. Because let's face it. Scam artists are everywhere. And anybody is fair game.

All in a Name

2007-10-21T12:09:00.000-04:00

There are many positive and rewarding aspects to working with young children, but one of my favorites is the cute nicknames their parents call them when they arrive at the end of the day to pick them up. Some of the names are just love names, some are variations and butcherings of the child's given name, still others are siblings attempts at pronouncing the other child's name and it is just considered so cute the whole family has to join in.

"Hi Bean!"
"come here Be'be' "
"How was my little pea's day"?
"Where's Jaxie?" (Jackson)

It goes on and some of the little nicknames will probably stick on into childhood, much to these children's chagrin.
For example, when I was younger and my brother Jonathan was born (much to my delight by the way), I nicknamed him "Thins". It wasn't as if I couldn't pronounce his name (I had actually learned to enunciate and speak in full sentences by the time I was 18 months old, so speech wasn't an issue) but rather just a way for us to be connected. It stuck, and throughout the years, as we were growing up I referred to him as such for various reasons -- to show I loved him, to irritate him, to embarress him, whatever and whenever the urge struck. There were times he didn't mind and there were moments I know he could have strangled me with his bare hands. My prents tried to force me to stop, but nothing worked and even now from time to time, I will dig into the recesses of childhood memories and pull out that little token of affection when talking to my baby brother.

With my own children, well, yes we are guilty of nicknaming.
Jacob is referred to as Jacoby pronounced Ju-ko-bee, with the emphasis on 'ko'.
Maxwell's name is of course already shortened to Max, but he still gets 'maxy' which I am sure he HATES, or soon will, and from other non-family members he gets dubbed names like Maximus, Maximillian, Maxwellian..the list goes on unfortunately. People seem to really have fun with his name. Poor kid.
Journey is 'sweetness', my name for her when she isn't whining or carrying on. So, needless to say I don't say it often! Kidding.
Serenity's little pet name is 'peek-ums'. Don't ask. Her brother designated that one when she was about 6 months old, I think because she was so enthralled and amused with peek-a-boo.

I have noticed around here a regional favorite that everyone calls their baby at some point is 'boo' . Regardless of name, gender or age. This one I do not understand, never heard before moving to the south, but alas, hear it nearly everyday when parents arrive to retrieve their little angels, and I can't help but smile.

Do you have a nickname? Do your children have love names or unfortunate nicknames that have stuck no matter what?
If so, do tell!

It went something like this

2007-10-14T14:31:00.000-04:00

The setting:
Our oversized, but not-so-comfy recliner in our living room, just after naptime. Journey was cuddling on my lap for a few blessed minutes before her sister woke up--a Sunday afternoon ritual in our home of late. Little did I know what that blond little head was cooking up and was about to spew forth from it's perfectly-shapen miniature pink lips. Oh mercy.

"Mommy?"

"yes, Journey?"

"Mommy, just where do babies really come from?"

As my heart flutters and I nearly choke on my diet coke, I stammer. NO, not yet. She can't be asking me this yet. Her brothers still have not inquired, for which I have been eternally grateful.
I fish around madly for an answer that will suffice until I can issue a more prepared and accepatable one--like 10 years from now. If only we could have some kind of parental-alert that would give us even a five minute lead on questions like this.
Yeah.

"Well, Journey, babies, well, er, come from inside mommies' bellies"

Pause. A pregnant pause, if you will.

"No, I know that already, 'cause that is where Serenity came from. Cause she was in your belly, then you went to the hospital, then the doctor helped, then she came out, then she came home. But How did she get in there?"
Sigh.
Of course, my exquisitely curious and out-spoken daughter was not to be placated with this kind of beat-around-the-bush response. No ma'm. SO, in brief, I kind of explained to her what helps a baby "get inside the tummy".
After our chat, which actually took only a few minutes, and much to my relief remained G-rated, allowed a few more minutes for me to compse myself while my daughter looked at me very accusingly. Her mind was trying to make sense out of what I had just told her, I convinced myself.

Her comment:
"No wonder I don't like to play with Porter, Mommy. I just knew he was up to something".

The Mom Song Sung to William Tell Overture with Lyrics

2007-10-13T16:21:00.001-04:00

Thanks to Mitzh, many funny minutes of laughter with this video! Please listen and enjoy!

Repeat Performance

2007-10-12T07:17:00.000-04:00

Darkness
Fear
Familiarity

lockdown
breathe
stay
survive

let it happen
live it
let it go

feel it
leave it behind

until next time..

Life is full of odds. And ends. And repeat performances.

This and That X 4

2007-10-09T14:48:00.000-04:00

Thanks Painted Maypole for the tag on this meme'!

4 Jobs I have had:

a pounce-on-customers-as-they-walk-in person at Gymboree (yeah, a bit scary)

Nanny

Infant teacher

Preschool teacher

4 Movies I love to watch over and over:

Erin Brockovich

Sound of Music

The Story of Us (from this movie I adopted a tradition at the dinner table with my kids each evening called High/Low, in which we talk about the best and worst parts of our day...very fun!

Parenthood--because it is just SO like that.

4 Places I have lived

Memphis, TN

Iowa

Rudolstadt, Deutschland

Maggie Valley. NC

4 TV Shows I enjoy watching. I despise comedy shows and I am not much for drama shows, so here are my choices when I watch TV.

The Closer

The First 48 Hours

John & Kate +8 ( show on Discovery channel about a family with a set of twins and a set of sextuplets--gives me strength to see them go through their daily life as it is with that many kids and know that i have nothing in the world to complain about!

Little People Big World ( Great family reality show)

4 places I have been:

Paris
Venice
San Francisco
Disney World

4 websites I visit daily ( a tough one for me b/c I am not a web-browser, I do not have enough patience)

my email
blogs I enjoy reading
weather.com
Rawstory.com

4 Favorite foods

Hashbrowns
Romaine salad with sunflower seeds and Ranch dressing
Bagels
Anything 'soup-like'/ crockpot creations ( I love soups and stews)

4 Places I would rather be ( this one is a bit challenging b/c I am truly happy right where i am right now, but that is probably because the kids aren't fighting!)

a beach
a cruise
on a mountain top
can't think of any others!

Ok, so now comes the time to tag and since I am so far behind with this meme' these might have already been tagged!

1)Mitzh,

2)Slouching Mom,

3)Amy's World,

4)Christine

On the Spot

2007-10-07T13:24:00.000-04:00

A few days (weeks?) ago, my new friend Amy over at Amy's World, did an interview and I had such fun reading the responses that I wanted to participate as well, so she sent me the following questions to answer.

Ok, girls' naptime has begun, I have a fresh cup of coffee (pumpkin spice), and I have a candle burning...I am ready to tackle these questions. Here goes!

1) What is the single greatest challenge you face being a single mom of four children? Ok, that is a tough one. I guess my greatest challenge lies in making sure I combine the tenderness with the firm hand in equal balanced doseages. Too much of either throws things out of whack and the results can be tragic and long-term (no stress there, right?) By that I mean with issues like discipline as this one is often tough for me. I have to play two roles simultaneously--mom and dad--and by nature, usually, women tend to be more nurturing than strict or firm. Children need Mommy's lap and a tender hand, but they also need and must have strict firm approach to discipline in order to learn respect, obedience and all that 'other stuff'. I have had to learn, especially with my boys, to kind of set that soft touch aside when they are in need of some 'guidance' and be more assertive in my expectations of them, as well as following through with any consequences I dole out for transgressions. I have had to learn to not let my emotions get the better of me in situations where a man would have undoubtedly commanded more instant respect and diffused the problem a lot more quickly than I mangaged to. Obviously, I can't use the old "Just wait until your father gets home" trick. Unfortunately, I yell more than I would like and we are really targeting that right now in our home. Whew! I kinda rambled on with that one...
2)What is your favorite guilty pleasure? Oh, this is a fun one. I don't get a lot of 'me time' obviously. So, after 9 p.m. when the kids are long asleep and I am able to sit down for a few moments, I allow myself to have a small delectable treat and unwind a bit. Whatever my heart desires. Chocolate, in one form or another, usually wins hands down (I know, boring and typical but what can I say), as I am not much of a cake/pastry eater. I give that to myself, feeling that I have earned it (damn skippy!). Although I should feel guilty because I know it is bad to eat sweets at night, too much sugar will pack on the pounds, heart diesease, blah blah blah., but I don't give a hoot. I enjoy every bite. Guiltlessly!
3)If money were no object and you could spend a week anywhere in the world ~ where would you go?Somewhere you have been before or someplace new? Why would you go there?
Lets see. Having spent some time overseas in Germany (as an exchange student) and France and Italy, I would more than likely go back there for a week. I adore it over there ~ the people, the food, the culture...and I would love to go back and visit some new cities that I didn't get to see before.
4)Looking back on your life, do you have any regrets? If you could go back and tell your younger self something, is there one thing you would change, knowing what you know now about life? Hmmm. As I see it my life is a culmination of choices I have made. A collaboration, if you will between good choices and well, not so good ones. I feel like, if I could go back and whisper something in my 18-year-old self's ear, I would say, "be less gullible and trusting and pay attention, for things and people are not always what/who they appear to be". I learned some lessons in my life the hard way, but I guess most of us do and that actually makes us who we are. Taking those times of tribulation away would diminish character and the ability to perservere through tough times. I do hope that my children grow up strong enough to weather what the world will inevitably throw at them and of course, I will want to protect them from pain and suffering. I have only one regret and that is the fact that the first time I went to college, at age 19, I stopped after a couple of semesters 'to work awhile'. If I could go back, I would finish college while I was young and without children b/c going to school amidst raising children, and having another baby in the middle of a semester, working and generally just participating in life was hard.
5)Your post where you spoke about your decision to have your youngest child rather than an abortion: do you think you will ever share that with your daughter?
This is often something I wonder myself. I think that in the run of things, probably not. If the cirucmstance arises where I feel it is pertinent to discuss ~ say if she one day finds herself struggling with such a decision (God forbid) or if she ever asks me anything about my feelings toward abortion in a personal way, I will tell her the truth. It is such an integral part of her birth story so I feel like someday, she will ask. She will feel led to know the answers to some of life's bigger, more difficult questions, and the opportunity will present itself. I do hope that when I speak of it, I remain non-judgemental, for if she is at that time struggling, she may not make the same decision as I and she deserves (every woman deserves) that freedom, the real freedom, of true choice.

SO, thanks Amy, I enjoyed answering your questions. You came up with some good ones!

Boys!

2007-10-05T11:32:00.000-04:00

Meet Dirty McMuddy...

and his sidekick, Dusty McFilthy.

This, my friends is after ONE AFTERNOON of playing outside.
Fun was had by all.

A Different Language

2007-10-03T08:25:00.000-04:00

Driving home yesterday I realized that I speak another language.
Now, of course, many of us do speak a language ( or two) other than our native tongue, but let me explain.
In this case, I mean that I speak toddlerese.

Serenity, having just turned two, is turning the infantile grunts and gestures and one-word commands into actual (well, kind of) words and vocabulary. All fine and good.
However.

Most of her words are not even similar to real words yet, thereby leaving us baffled half the time as to what she is trying to say. A certain chain of syllables means ' big truck' and ' my cup of juice', but the real whole words do not yet fully exist.

It is truly fascinating, development of one's language, and the more I thought about it I recognized that we moms actually do, even if for a brief time, speak a different language during the vocabulary development of our toddlers. We must learn to recognize the chain of syllables that mean a certain word but sounds nothing like the word we know, and commit it to memory in association with it's meaning so we can more rapidly recognize it the next time we hear it. This does not mean that we don't say the word correctly often so as to help our toddlers learn the correct pronunciation. Here I must add that pronouncing a word correctly to a cranky, hungry, out-of-sorts toddler IS NOT a good idea so knowing what they are trying to say is VERY important.

In addition, we must learn to REPEAT everything that our little ones say so they know we are listening, thereby teaching them the art of conversation, which differs from communication vastly. To me it became apparent that right now, with Serenity learning to really talk, my mind feels the same way it felt (exasperated and overwhelmed) when I was living in Germany and trying to translate every word and phrase until I became familiar with the language.

Immediately following birth, infants watch the movement of people's mouths, listen to the rythym of the speech surrounding them, and begin to recognize voices. As chidren grow into toddlerhood, they are learning to communicate their wants and desires through gestures and very basic imitations of the speech they have been listening to for a year. Some children catch on very quickly and can speak full sentences very early, others take the two to three years to fully enunciate correctly most words in their daily language.
I realized, sitting at the traffic light (I am surprised at this point that I remembered to drive as I was so caught up in pondering this ) that as each of my children has reached this point in development, I remember learning to recognize these "new words" and constantly translating their meaning to other people who couldn't understand my child.

Of course, I had this epiphany while Serenity was in the back seat screaming "cee bu"..translated "city bus"...this is by far one of the easier phrases to decipher. One of the harder ones as of yet was "wa toma tay pee"...directly transalated "watch Thomas the Train please?"

So, as time moves on and my toddler becomes a pre-schooler, her speech will graduate to new levels in development, none as hard as this initial explosion into communication.
Well, maybe until she becomes a teenager anyway, and I don't even want to talk about what communication will be like during that period of time!

"Peaceful Warrior"

2007-09-30T11:50:00.000-04:00

Last night I watched a truly exceptional movie that is still provoking thought and wonderment in my mind today. It is called Peaceful Warrior (2007 DVD).

The fact that it has moved me is not based solely on the content itself, but on the fact that it is a true story. It is Dan Millman's true story, he is the author of a couple of books--Way of the Warrior, and The Life You Were Born to Live. A phenomenal story to be certain. I recommend checking the movie out if you are curious as to what your purpose is, or even if you aren't because it is just that good.

How attached are you to your story? Who are you without it? What are you if not ruled by emotion? Can you be in the moment, in the HERE and NOW? What exactly does that mean? How do we release ourselves from the thoughts that rule us and drive our actions? Is it truly possible to love unconditionally those that need it the most?

These questions I ask myself today as I peruse Dan's book, The Life... and ponder different parts of his story.

"there is never nothing going on"
Just sit with that for a moment. How much do we really notice going on in the world outside of our own thoughts and stories?

Sky-high with Fun

2007-09-28T20:20:00.000-04:00

Apple picking is a traditional family outing/adventure for us every year in late September. However, due to the April frost we had this spring, the crop here this year is non-existent. At least the apples are non-existent, that is.

Turns out you can have just as much fun 'picking apples' even when there are NO apples to pick!

Literally.

We walked around the orchard for almost an hour and retrieved TWO apples from the tip top of a couple of trees. Please take notice of cheerful children although thier little baskets are totally empty.

BUT,

We had a blast, the weather was gorgeous on the mountain top, and we came home with just enough apples (which we retrieved from a trailor set up for pickers that was full of Gala, Fuji, Rome, and others--we assumed what may have been harvested from the far end of the orchard)

to make our favorite dessert--Apple Brown Betty. Scrumptious!

Of course, playing in the playhouse was enormously entertaining, as was drinking apple cider from the apple-shaped sippers that cost $2.50 PER SIPPER.

But all in good fun.

In which my 9 year old beat me

2007-09-20T10:30:00.000-04:00

In a race that is!
You know you are getting on up there when your 9 y.o. son can beat you in a foot race across a small parking lot!

"Mom?"

"yes, Jacob?"

"Wanna race?"

"sure, buddy..." (thinking that I will run slowly and let him win)

Yeah, right. It didn't quite work out that way.

Not only did my son win the first race, in which I started off slowly and rapidly realized that I needed to actually RUN. But, he won by a LARGE distance the second race in which I ran as hard and fast as my thirty-something body would allow.

Puts things into perspective..I still hurt and that was two days ago...

Your age is marked by the way you feel and run!

Decision

2007-09-16T08:42:00.000-04:00

I had to share this photo of myself and my brother taken last month at my graduation. I will probably hear him fussing at me for posting his picture, but give him a break, he is a conservative/atheist and knows not the sentiment with which I write.

He probably isn't aware, but my brother has been a great source of motivation for me through these past few years as I struggled through school while raising my children and working too. Periodically I received from him little cards that were such moments of encouragement that pushed me to keep on going. I still have the cards and reflect on them when I am frustrated, or feeling defeated and worn out. We have always been close, my brother and I.

Currently, my brother is in the middle of a tough decision, wrestling with deciding whether or not to better his career (in which he excels)by moving to a large, unfriendly city or remain in the city in which he presently lives, and wait for the next career jump-start, hoping that it will be closer and in a more attractive, alluring place to reside. You see, my brother is so good at his job that other firms desire his presence and contribution; he is only 28 and has been out of school for a mere three years. Like, wow. Can you tell I am a bit proud of my little brother?

What makes this a hard choice is the fact that much of his happiness lies in his favorite pasttime--running; a passion he has fervently followed for many years now, and to which he dedicates most if not all of his spare time. He runs marathons at the drop of a hat, facilitates running events, participates in a running training group, and is training for an ultra-marathon next month. If he chooses to move, this particular pasttime of his will undoubtedly suffer b/c of the locality. In the other city, it is hot and all you see for miles is concrete. There are few, if any, lush areas, no trails, and no familiar safe neighborhoods with overly-abundant trees and beauty like where he is now.

What should he do? Which is more important? Happiness, stability, and predictability? Money? The chance to move up the corporate ladder? Would the sacrifice be worth it? What would you do?

Hang in there little brother, things will pull together and the fog of indecisiveness will lift. Trust your judgement, you will not fail yourself.

Happy Birthday Little One

2007-09-14T20:50:00.001-04:00

Four days old
First few steps..walking to Mommy, away from Nana
First pig tails..stayed in for all of three minutes, while distracted searching for cheese puffs
Screaming at THE TOP of her lungs--these days a favorite activity
Devouring birthday cake with blue icing.

From tiny peanut, to Big Girl.

Happy Birthday Serenity.

Mommy's precious baby, I love you.

Fair

2007-09-09T08:34:00.000-04:00

FALL IS COMING! Inspired by some of the posts I have been reading concerning the upcoming autumn season, I must also rave a bit about this wonderful time of year. This picture was taken near our home last year, during one of the most vibrant leaf seasons we have ever experienced.

I love fall for many reasons, but today I am focusing on one of the things I look forward to most about this time of year.

THE MOUNTAIN STATE FAIR!

Today we are going to the fair! I think I may be more excited than the kids. I love the sounds of the rides, the aromas coming from the vendors all cooking their specialty--everything from pronto pups to funnel cakes, the excited voices and shrieks from those daring enough to climb aboard sky-high rides, my children jumping up and down wanting to do everything all at one time.

Our fair comes around this time every year and it ushers in the season for us. We spend a day walking around the fairgrounds, visiting the petting zoo, eating, riding, and generally just enjoying being together. The weather is usually beautiful, around mid 70's, and by now a nice breeze is blowing.

The leaves have not yet begun to turn, but it always seems like, when the fair leaves town, the trees take their cue to begin that beautiful process. And here, in the Smokies, autumn is so breathtaking.

Next autumn post--Apple Picking at Sky Top Apple Orchard, complete with pictures--another of our traditional autumn adventures.

Inner Child

2007-09-06T19:14:00.000-04:00

Ever notice how easy it is to voice your opinion about something, like kicking dirt off your shoe, and going forward like nothing happened, not wondering the impact of your statement may have left with the other person?

"yes, I totally agree with that" or

"no way. that is SO wrong. I can't believe anyone would ever choose that".

People speak all day long in reference to things they probably have no idea about. Make remarks against situations with which they have never been confronted. I used to be one of these people, until two and a half years ago. I would drop my comments here and there, not really giving my beliefs a second thought. Never asking myself why I felt a certain way towards something, just usually going with the majority. Judgemental? Hell, yeah.

It seems like we can so easily speak for or against something before or without ever having any exposure to what it feels like to be in the position/situation we are attempting to speak for or against. Mostly, I have noticed, that the people offering the advice are the people that have no right to be speaking. They aren't asked for their opinion--they offer it freely and loudly. On the contrary, a person who actually might have something worthwhile to offer, usually doesn't just offer their thoughts forward; they wait until asked or prompted. They exude a certain comforting wisdom when they speak of their experience.

Take abortion for example. SO many people stand either vehemently for or steadfastly against abortion, without even really understanding what a woman feels like to be in the position to have to make such a heavy decision. A decision that has no 'takeback' backroad. A decision that a woman must forever live with, no matter what.

As my youngest child nears her second birthday, I am and will always be reminded of the fact that I almost did not have her. By my own choice. I struggled for the better part of 12 weeks with the decision of whether or not I wanted to bring another child into the world with a man who had proven himself unworthy of being a father. We were already separated and the fact that the opportunity came and passed during which I conceived her weighed heavily on my mind as immoral and a bad choice on my part.

I struggled with decisions like whether or not it was fair to a new baby to be brought into the world and into a home with three siblings and a single parent, because in my heart I knew that although he was telling me with his words that things would change, he would not step up to the plate any more for this child than the others he could so conveniently forget about. I knew that I was taking it on alone, and I was scared. I was ashamed. I wondered how fair it was to ask my other three children to share yet another slice of the pie- so to speak. Could I have enough Love, patience, and mothering to spread to another little person? Was I capable? I was just getting started in school, was barely making ends meet as it was, I couldn't even imagine another child to care for.

Before I realized it I was sitting in the parking lot of the abortion clinic, my $500.00 in hand, my i.d, and beside me was sitting my mother (I know, she is a true saint--the most non-judgemental, supportive person you will EVER meet). I sat there wondering what I was doing, but still feeling like I had no choice but to abort this new life growing inside me. I was in tears on the inside, some on the outside, having read what lies ahead and not knowing if I could handle this choice either. I wanted a third choice. Where everything would work out perfectly.

My car was surrounded by the protesters with their obnoxious signs, chanting something I thought I would never forget. But have. We probably sat there for almost an hour, mostly in silence. I stared at the white doors and could almost imagine the sterile, cold feeling of the rooms on the other side of those doors. As I sat in my car, I felt a kind of peace drape over me, like a warm feeling. In that moment, my mother asked me quietly, "would you do this if God was walking in beside you?". It was as if I did not even need to think about it. I simply said "no" and we drove away--my sweet baby still inside my belly. It grounds me now to realize how close I was that day to altering my life and the lives of my children forever, irreversibly.

I am not a religious person, but I do consider myself to be a spiritual person. I feel like there is a higher power out there, and religions attempt to encompass it into their own respecive denominations and name it accordingly--Buddha, Alla, Jesus, etc. But the feeling is still the same.

I will forever and always know that if I haven't walked through the pain myself, I have nothing to say. Nothing to offer but a prayer of peace to the person struggling. I do not walk around protesting this or that, but remain constant in what I believe and practice it each day by example.

I look in my sweet, precious baby's face and ask myself, what would I have ever done without her to teach me, to allow me to walk through such a learning experience, to grow as a person..it is part of her purpose and I can't wait to see her fullfill that on a grand scale.

God Bless.

Oh, the ultrasound is of Serenity (now you know some of the meaning behind her name) in my third trimester and if you look at the first one, you can vividly see her eye peering out as if to say Hi! Here I come!

Lets play 'cards'

2007-09-02T07:17:00.000-04:00

We all are aware of the 'growing' problem of childhood obesity in our country. America--The land of the free as well as the Supersize Me way of thinking when it comes to food (if you have not watched that documentary, I recommend it). And, the faster the food the better, fits into our speedracer way of life.

About a year and a half ago I began to combat this way of eating and thinking in my home with my children. As I read and heard more about the trend of children being inactive and overweight, and began to learn more about the recommended true portion sizes for different foods (deck of cards, baseball, ping-pong ball, etc.). I decided to try to integrate this into our daily meals/snacks both in and out of home, whenever possible.
At first I was met with some whining and begging for more food, but standing firm in what I knew was enough and that they had really eaten enough for that sitting, I didn't budge. Over time, we began to eat our meals more slowly, talking and interacting at the table (a time of day I now cherish and look forward to with my kids), and no one usually asks for a second helping. They have become accustomed to eating the right amount of food and realizing that they are satisfied and their body doesn't actually feel hungry anymore (we all have heard of the 20 minute rule before going back for seconds).
Perhaps, if I get the kids used to realizing what true portion size is while they are young, it will be natural to them as they grow older and begin to eat more frequently away from home.

So often I see children consuming more food that most adults require at a meal. When I visit the school lunchroom of either of my boys or work in the daycare, I see it everyday and I see how overeating as well as eating inappropriate foods is promoted at an early age.

Look at the typical school menu at a public school, or a childcare center. As far as menu choices, in which a 5- year -old Kindergartener is offered the same amount of food as an 11 -year- old Fifth grader, it consists mostly of fast food, food high in saturated fat and calories; chicken nuggets, french fries, pizza, tacos, cheeseburgers (of the frozen, greasy variety)...you get the idea.
When the schools do offer a healthy veggie option, they either couple it with a somewhat unhealthy choice that kids opt more for, or they drown it in butter and boil it to death so that all the minerals are long gone. The only drink option is milk, which is unfortunate for the growing number of people who are realizing the unhealthy benefits of milk and do not want their children drinking it (see my recent post entitled Don't Drink your Milk ).

At home , my kids are served a healthy portion of their meal--which is balanced out to focus on most of the food groups--and if they are still hungry they can have seconds on the more healthy aspect of the meal such as the veggie or some fresh fruit. Same thing goes for evening snacking, which is kept to a minimum, but because of the outside activity my boys engage in, I realize they are using up a bit more energy and require more to be satisfied in the evenings. However, this "more" is not three slices of pizza or a few cupcakes, poptarts, or cookies--it is a protein snack of some kind, or a bowl of low-sugar cereal. We also keep fresh fruit in the house and have cut/sliced veggie options in the fridge for easy grabbing. Also worth mentioning is what kids drink--sodas, koolaid, energy drinks such as gatorade--children are getting a lot more calories than they need from drinking also. My rule is--they can have a soda when we eat out, they get a Gatorade if we are going to be outside most of the day (pool, hiking, park), and they never have Koolaid.
I also try to portion things out according to the amount of calories each child needs on a daily basis--from oldest to youngest. Around here, my kids are aware of portion sizes, what makes a correct portion, and they realize that the older ones get more than the younger because of caloric requirements. (Of course, it is explained to them in a MUCH simpler way).

Some of my friends support my view on the importance of food portions/selections, others frown and disagree stating that their children will burn off whatever they eat and are already thin so it doesn't matter. To this I respond with the fact that cholesterol and trans fat is still an issue in good health--even in kids that are thin already. America also is dealing with heart diease, diabetes, and other diet-related issues besides obesity. Let's just be honest: It starts at home.

Here is a list of some of the healthy foods that I keep in the home for easy grabbing:

Carrot/celery
Peanut butter balls (PB, honey, evap. milk, rice krispies--add and mix together until firm enough to make balls--refrigerate)
apples, peaches, pears,
berries
soy yogurts,
rice milk ice cream bars
all fruit popsicles
granola bars

You get the idea...portions AS well as food choices are important, not just for the kids, but for us as well.

Edited to add: I don't mean to sound like we don't occassionally eat fast food, or have unhealthy days, b/c we do of course! The road to health eating begins with awareness and that is my point with this post.

Also remember, when eating out, portion sizes are usually three to four times larger than the recommended serving size (!!). Try sharing meals or packing half of the meal in a to-go box before even beginning to eat.

While at home, practice letting your child serve himself the appropriate portion size so he becomes aware of how much is enough.

For additional and helpful info on children's as well as adult portion sizes, check out MYpyramid.com

Aaaaaaahhhhh!

2007-08-29T19:50:00.000-04:00

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

2007-08-28T15:24:00.001-04:00

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.

2007-08-25T19:57:00.000-04:00

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

2007-08-25T11:51:00.000-04:00

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

2007-08-24T18:42:00.000-04:00

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

2007-08-19T10:20:00.000-04:00

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

2007-08-17T19:53:00.000-04:00

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

2007-08-16T19:33:00.000-04:00

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!

2007-08-16T12:17:00.000-04:00

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

2007-08-15T14:07:00.000-04:00

Baby's First time sitting at the Big Table!

Yep. Way more playing this evening than usually!

Span of Time

2007-08-15T12:12:00.000-04:00

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

2007-08-14T09:36:00.000-04:00

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

2007-08-13T11:28:00.000-04:00

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

2007-08-12T10:33:00.000-04:00

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!

2007-08-11T16:50:00.000-04:00

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

2007-08-09T14:31:00.000-04:00

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

2007-08-09T07:16:00.000-04:00

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

2007-08-07T15:37:00.000-04:00

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!)