Computer glitches

I HATE COMPUTER GLITCHES!!!! I am so addicted to immediate information and entertainment that when our computer is on the fritz, I go bloody boonkers.

Maya's lesson: gratitude

This is an excerpt from an Oprah interview...My little sister sent it to me today...It is provocative...and known, but so easy to forget.

I live in the space of thankfulness - and I have been rewarded a million times over for it. I started out giving thanks for small things, and the more thankful I became, the more my bounty increased. That's because what you focus on expands, and when you focus on the goodness in your life, you create more of it. Opportunities, relationships, even money flowed my way when I learned to be grateful no matter what happened in my life.

"Say thank you!" Those words from my friend and mentor Maya Angelou turned my life around. One day about ten years ago, I was sitting in my bathroom with the door closed and the toilet lid down, booing and a hooing on the phone so uncontrollably that I was incoherent.

"Stop it! Stop it right now and say thank you!" Maya chided. "But - you don't understand," I sobbed. To this day, I can't remember what it was that had me so far gone, which only proves the point Maya was trying to make. "I do understand," she told me. "I want to hear you say it now. Out loud."

'Thank you.'" Tentatively, I repeated it: "Thank you - but what am I saying thank you for?" "You're saying thank you," Maya said, "because your faith is so strong that you don't doubt that whatever the problem, you'll get through it. You're saying thank you because you know that even in the eye of the storm, God has put a rainbow in the clouds. You're saying thank you because you know there's no problem created that can compare to the Creator of all things. Say thank you!"

So I did - and still do. Only now I do it every day. I kept a gratitude journal, as Sarah Ban Breathnach suggests in Simple Abundance, list at least five things that I'm grateful for.My list includes small pleasures..."

"My thank-you list also includes things too important to take for granted: an "okay" mammogram, friends who love me, 25 years at the same job (and loving it more than the first day I started), a chance to share my vision for a better life, staying centered, having financial security. I won't kid you, having money for all the things I want is a blessing. But as I look back over my journals, which I've kept since I was 15 years old, 99% of what brought me real joy had nothing to do with money.

It's not easy being grateful all the time. But it's when you feel least thankful that you are most in need of what gratitude can give you: PERSPECTIVE... Just knowing you have that daily list to complete allows you to look at your day differently; with an awareness of every sweet gesture and kind thought passed your way. When you learn to say thank you, you see the world anew.

As Meister Eckhart so eloquently stated: "If the only prayer you ever say in your whole life is 'Thank you God', that would suffice."

Unacceptable school status quo

Three school shootings in recent weeks are not listed on this map. There may be more that that missing from it, too. This map included 2005 shootings and none from this year.

This is status quo. This includes shootings after Columbine, which is largely thought of as ground zero for school violence.

I called Number One Daughter's school last year and asked about school safety and what they do to prevent shootings. I was assured that they had a program in place.

Last week I sent a message to the Superintendent of Schools and cc: the school board and the principal for Number One Daughter's school, too. The superintendent referred my inquiry to the assistant superintendent of schools. He asked her to reply. She hasn't yet.

In the superintendent's message, he assured me that there is a safety plan in place. This is status quo. All of this is status quo. And status quo is unacceptable.

Among other ideas, I am taking my concerns to the PTA. I am not happy that I was patted on the head and that my ideas and concerns were not taken to heart. I think the reason that I was patted on the head is that the superintendent and school administrators in general believe that there will be a certain amount of knee-jerk reactions to the school shootings. Although I assured them that this wasn't a knee-jerk reaction, my concerns were cast off.

The Wisconsin representative who is calling for teachers to be armed needs to have a refresher course in reality. Arming teachers is not a good idea. Even though he suggested that other countries do so with no major problems. Surely he must realize that there is a far greater danger in arming teachers than exists when you are airline pilots!

We need cameras in and around the school. We need self defense courses for teachers and students so that they have an idea of what to do if they are taken hostage. We need a curriculum that teaches empowerment to everyone so that they realize that they do not have to be victims. We need a national action plan. It is scary, I know. It is very sad, too.

The idea that I am going to float that could help immediately on a national level is very simple: Give every teacher, administrator, librarian, indeed anyone in contact with students a Life Alert necklace. They are monitored 24/7. One push of a button and help is being summoned. No delay looking for a phone-cell or otherwise. The first inkling of trouble is the time to push the button to summon assistance.

In Colorado, the adult who murdered one girl after molesting several, was noticed by many people before school. Suspicions were raised. Hair was standing up on the back of people's necks. See that is the first sign that your guardian angel is whispering in your ear. Indeed, the thing that we must encourage in our schools is for people to listen to that little voice in our minds that says, "Danger!"

I'm ready for the nay sayers who are concerned about prohibitive costs too. What insurance company wouldn't rather spend money to improve security in our schools? They would be preventing lawsuits-potentially. I am a mom on a mission. You can mess with me, but don't mess with children. Not on my watch.

Word processing

I keep telling myself to use Word to write my posts, but I don't listen! So another post is lost in the great void....even when I used "recover post," most of it was gone.

I hate when that happens!

The Wrong War

If some of our children are battling wars on other shores,

Dying for reasons that appear to be
based on fiction and not fact,




And leaving scars imprinted in the hearts and minds of our soldiers who are but Little Big Men and Women...
Children dying on foreign streets in wars that our government representatives themselves would flee...
Much less allow their children to be sacrificed for...




While violence is claiming the lives of our children in our schools and on our streets...

Then we are fighting
the wrong war.

School defense

It pains me greatly that we are going to have to teach our children the same lessons that are taught to passengers on airplanes post 9/11. Prior to 9/11, flight attendants were taught to listen to the instructions of the hijackers. Now passengers are told that they must help keep planes safe by not allowing a criminal/terrorist to take over a flight.

Sadly, we need to teach our children the same message. Of the three school shootings, the Amish school shooting is the most disturbing-that is if one can be more heinous than the other.

It is one thing to want to take your own life, but it is another to decide to take others with you-no matter what has happened in the gunman's past. Exacting revenge isn't an option. Even anger at the Supreme Being isn't a reason to take others with you.

School shooters are terrorists. I do not care how old the shooter is. I do not care what their past reveals about their lives. I do not even care if they are suicidal. There is no reason to take hostages, especially in a school.

Terrorism is rampant in our own country; perhaps it is time to focus on home-grown terrorism. I do not understand when taking innocents hostage became the standard for criminals, but it is time to prepare our students to defend themselves against terrorism.

My fear is that if we do not do something soon, we will have to arm our teachers; it will be like the cockpit of an airplane. Some pilots arm themselves.

We have to teach our children that if something seems out of place, that they shouldn't ignore it. They should report it immediately to school personnel. At the first "inkling" of a problem, school personnel should call 9-1-1.

For a long time schools have had fire and disaster drills. It is time to hold anti-terrorism drills, too. Safety needs to be reinforced. If only someone had known that they should have fought off the shooters.

The principal at the school near Madison Wisconsin was a hero. He fought off the shooter. He took him to the ground. I am deeply saddened that the principal's life was taken, but he saved dozens if not hundreds of other lives.

In the end, parents are the final line of defense against terrorism in our schools. If we suspect that a student is capable of inflicting harm, we should speak up. We should also be alert when we take our children to school. Perhaps we need parents in the classroom to combat the likelihood of an attack. Parents trained to spot trouble. It is a sobering thought.

In the past decade, we have learned that school isn't necessarily a safe haven for our children. It is time to prepare our children for life in this war zone. I am stunned that I wrote it. I am stunned that we need to do this, but we must find a way to protect our children when we aren't with them. They are their best defense-if we prepare them.

Heaven help us.

Zach Bonner is Superman!

A friend of mine, an EIGHT-YEAR-OLD SUPERHERO, Named Zach is the President of The Little Red Wagon Foundation. When Hurricane Charley hit Florida, Zach was about six and he was moved to raise money and got donations of toys for the children affected. He jumped to action after Hurricane Katrina, too.

Then Zach organized fund raising to buy backpacks filled with necessities like toothbrush and toothpaste and snacks for HOMELESS Children.

Currently, Zach is holding an auction on eBay to raise money for these and other projects. The money will be given to children in need all over the country.

If you are moved enough to help him in his cause, I would really appreciate it. You can view the items for bid at this link:
http://search.ebay.com/_W0QQsassZlittle_red_wagon_foundationQQhtZ-1

I also invite you to meet Zach for yourself by following this link: http://www.littleredwagonfoundation.com/

There is a link to join his website and you will receive eNews from him and his site. You will discover how dedicated to helping children that he is.

In this world, and especially in the circumstances that we face after natural disasters and September 11th, we are in need of genuine heroes. Zach is one such hero.

Thank you!

~Renee

Nancy Grace's smoking gun

Trenton Duckett is missing. His mother said that he was sleeping soundly in his crib when she checked on him at 7 p.m. on August 26th. Trenton's mommy's name is Mindy Duckett.

Mindy said that she had shopped all day with her two-year-old son. When they returned home, she stated that she placed him in his crib around 6:30 p.m.

According to the police report, Mindy told police that a couple of her friends came over to watch a movie. At 9:30, she went to check on her toddler, but he wasn't in his crib. Mindy called the police.

The police were shown a cut screen in the baby's room and a picture that had been knocked off of the windowsill. The police began the search for little Trenton.

I do not know the events that brought about Mindy's appearance on Nancy Grace's show, but I know that outcome of it. Mindy Duckett, 21, shot herself to death after a very disturbing exchange with Nancy Grace.

The blonde former prosecutor is well known for her fist pounding declarations of guilt aimed at guests on her show. I think the 21 year-old didn't know what she was getting herself into when she agreed to appear on the show. I wonder how many times Grace accuses someone of doing something and they actually are guilty? It is thought provoking.

Grace made Duckett trip all over herself during a cross examination that ended with the blonde host accusing the 21-year-old of something sinister...Not in so many words, but there was no doubt what Grace was insinuating.

It is highly likely or perhaps highly probable that Mindy Duckett played a role in the disappearance of her son. Statistics prove that when a member of a family goes missing, it is often a family member who made the other "disappear."

Remember Jenny Jones? Another blonde talk show hostess who played a role in a death that occurred after a guest appeared on her show? There are some things that do not belong on television, but the problem is that viewers watch shows like this. A jury held Jones accountable for the death of a 32 year old guest after he revealed a secret crush on a heterosexual guest. Three days after the segment was taped, the man who was "humiliated" on the show killed the guest who had a crush on him.

Mindy Duckett may have known what happened to her little boy, but Grace crossed a line. The only person who might have been able to find Trenton has taken any information that she had to her grave.

Trenton's mom was an orphan from South Korea. She was a gifted student, by all accounts. Her grandfather insists that she told him that she didn't have anything to do with her son's disappearance. There are times when this kind of blind faith proves unwarranted, but does that justify the means? Not to me.


I hope that Duckett's family takes Nancy Grace to task for the suicide of Mindy Duckett. Mindy could have helped authorities find her boy; if she had anything to do with his disappearance, she might have been coaxed to revealing that given time. Instead, when Mindy pulled the trigger to shoot herself, Nancy Grace might as well have been standing beside her with her finger on the trigger. That is not good television. That is a travesty of justice especially for Trenton Duckett.

Marcus Fiesel's plight was known

Although the digital picture isn't of the best quality, it is easy to see how cute this little boy is. Candy is smeared around his mouth. His eyes are deep and expressive. He looks like any other little boy. Unfortunately, this isn't just any other little boy. Sadly, this is Marcus.

Marcus had a disability of some sort. I do not know what his disability is, nor is it important. He is a cute boy. I look at this picture and want to hug him tightly.

I wish that I could change Marcus' name and bring him home, but it is too late for that. He died when he was three years old. He was a child in the foster care system. On Tuesday, August 30th, 2006, his foster parents were charged with his murder.

His so called foster parents had a family reunion to go to. Rather than take this adorable little boy with them, they decided to leave him behind. If only they had done simply that. Instead, his foster parents rolled him up in a blanket with his hands pinned behind him. Then they wrapped him up in the blanket with duct tape and placed Little Marcus Fiesel in a closet. They left him there for two days. Upon their return from the reunion. Little Marcus was dead.

When his "foster parents" discovered his body, they had no more mercy for this little boy then they did when they placed him in the closet. This man and woman took his body to a remote location. Then the couple "made several attempts to burn Marcus Fiesel's body and concocted an elaborate sham to cover up the boy's death, Hamilton County Prosecutor Joe Deters said Tuesday (August 30th)."

I do not know why it is so easy for foster parents to be approved to provide shelter to children and then abuse, abandon, neglect, torture and murder them. I do not know why we stand for it. I do not understand why there are so many people opposed to adoption by alternative life style living parents who want a child so very badly.

The government doesn't believe that gay couples should wed or be given the privilege of being parents. Meanwhile, it apparently believes that the foster care system is a safe haven for children.

This is Liz Carroll. Her husband, David Carroll, Jr. Helped murder Marcus. They stood before cameras and begged that he be returned home. Then they repeatedly returned to his body and tried to burn his remains. They pleaded for his safe return. But they never cared about his safety at all. To them Marcus was nothing more than a paycheck. In essence, the foster care system is the "puppy mill" of children. Trade services for money without regard to the living or death conditions of the helpless victims.

It is beyond time to fix the foster care system. Innocent children are dying. No one listened to Marcus Fiesel's whimpers. No one could hear him, yet the district attorney knew that this wasn't the first time that he had been left alone. Marcus Fiesel's plight was known, but someone choose to ignore it and now little Marcus Fiesel is dead.

New 9-11 video

I cannot believe that anyone was able to keep this to themselves for five years. This is the new perspective on the WTC tragedy. The view is just from the side of the front doors of the North Tower.

The woman filming is holding an infant. My heart ached as I listened to her commentary. It is a stunning sight. Shocking moments caught in time. I think it is important that the couple released this because with the aid of digital technology, someone may be able to identify some of the emergency workers prior to the fall of the towers. This might provide some closure for their families.

It is not easy to watch. I didn't watch any of the "anniversary" coverage from five years ago. I did watch this and it is a poignant reminder that we must be on-guard. Not paralyzed, but on-guard and watchful. Not frightened, but empowered to do all we can to prevent another attack on our shores.

On September 11, 2001, President George W. Bush did the best that anyone could under the circumstances to pull our country together after a terrifying event. The tears in his eyes were genuine. I think that it is easy to forget that he was moved by the plight of the families that lost loved ones on that dark day. Whether you or I support the President is unimportant right now. We need to remember that he led us on a very dark day. On September 11, 2001, I was proud that he was our President.

You can argue many things about our government right now, but on that awful day all I could see for miles and miles was raw courage under fire. I mean that from the blind man who made it all the way out from the 78th floor to the hundreds of emergency services workers who marched in and met their fate.

This is a link to the newly released video: http://www.revver.com/view.php?id=59686 I originally linked it here so you could see it, but my blog won't load with it. You won't be able to look away. I don't know why that is. Perhaps it is because all of the video shot of the WTC event showed the buildings and people running from them. This shows the people "marching into hell for a heavenly cause..."

9/11

Five years ago, I distinctly recall wondering why I was three months pregnant with Little Big Boy. Why was I bringing a child into a world where people would take civilian planes and use them as bombs all over the eastern United States? Why was I bringing a child into a world where treachery and insanity appeared to reign?

A lot of time has past, but the images from September 11th are fresh in my mind. The most disturbing of all of the images that I recall from that fateful day are the ones that show people jumping from the WTC windows. What in God's name was so awful that the person preferred to jump from almost or over 100 stories up? How could jumping be preferable to staying put? My imagination tells me the answer to this question and it is almost as disturbing as the pictures from the event itself.

I'd like to say that I went on courageously after the events of 9/11, but I didn't. Over the next few months and even years, I became paralyzed. I was so certain that another attack was eminent that I kept myself from living. I justified it by believing that I was protecting my family from a fate such as the one faced by the thousands who died on 9/11.

I know now that there is nothing that I can do to protect my family or myself from terrorists. God's will is His will. It is nothing more and nothing less than God's will. That is not to say that it is His fault or doing. No! It is only to say that if I am called to Heaven, I have to answer that call no matter what circumstances take me there. And it is the same for my family.

When I was a child, my parents could assure me that I was safe. I have lived through and survived enough to know that I wasn't safe, but I have also learned that it wasn't anyone's fault. It was simply what was.

I spent a lot of time trying to make sense of my past-of real, live bogeymen. I talked it over and tried to purge it all from my very soul. In the end, I realized that no matter how much I talk about it, it isn't going to change. I can only change my perception of the events.

I look at September 11th now as a time when people ran from the WTC. Maybe people ran from the Pentagon, too. And even from Flight 93 as it plummented to the ground in Pennsylvania. But while others ran away from the horror, there was a select group of people who ran toward and walked toward and marched toward the scenes of the terror and crimes. And five years later, I can honestly say that I have resolved to be one of the people who walk toward it, instead of run from it.

It isn't a death wish, either. It is a LIFE wish. I choose to live my life inspite of the terror and horror that exists in the world. I choose to believe that there is a greater good. I choose to believe that we can stand up to those who try to control us with fear. I believe that I can show my courage and defiance. They can come here and attack innocent civilians. I know that now, but I'm not afraid of it anymore. I am ready to look them in the eye. Checkmate.

Too much

There are far too many things going on that I would like to comment about. Some good. Some bad, but far too much blog fodder! It makes me wish that I had kept up with daily blogging. So this is going to be another multi-post.

1. I was so sad to hear of Lightfeather's loss...so much has happened this year. I am praying that she will have a much brighter future...filled with acceptance, peace and love.
2. My hubby knows the family of the little conjoined male twins-separated about two days ago now. The boys are doing as well as they can following the marathon surgery.
3. Both Number One Daughter and Little Big Boy started school on Tuesday. It is always nice when school starts AFTER the holiday and not before. It gives the temps a chance to become more mild so the students don't have to sit in stifling rooms.
4. Menopause sucks-whether it is brought on by age or by surgery like mine, it just sucks. There is too much information about the side effects of hormones and all that. You'd think that there would be something safer that works. (I love Whoopi's comment about menopause in her HBO special.) If pharmaceutical companies can solve the terrible and dreaded ED...why can't they find a way to ballance out hot flashes! I mean really!
5. Another foster child has been murdered at the hands of his foster parents. That is not a story suitable for this post, but I have his picture and the awful story to tell. I will post it soon. It is just too painful to write for now. I still think that if these murderers are the best foster parents that can be found that someone ought to head up to Capitol Hill and kick some ignorant butts. There are real loving families awaiting children and their only crime is that they live an alternative life style. In this day and age, that seems too trivial to worry about. Again-the parents who are murdering foster children have been approved by the same entity that opposes gay foster parents. Is it really so awful to have gay foster parents that it is better to subject children to torture, abuse and murder? Who is making these laws anyway!!!??????

Measuring Men

I am not a big fan of over-lapping sports events. It seems to me that teams play longer seasons for one reason: make money for the owners. It's really no wonder with the salaries that skyrocket every year.

When a player signs a new contract, he should have to abide by it for at least half of the term of the contract-regardless of the amount of money any other player is hired for or making...regardless of the amount of money that he thinks he should be making. Hold outs should be fired immediately and they shouldn't be allowed to play for half the term of the contract that he is holding out from.

Part of the reason why we allow poor sportsman-shipship to reign, is that we allow agents to go for the dollars over all else. Does one player really need all of that money? Does anyone person need that much money? In a world where famine is a sick reality abroad and in our own country, it is sickening that one person is given so much money. It doesn't make sense. It is about time that we try to clean up the mess of it.

Remember the "Hockey Dad" murder or rather the "Hockey Dad Manslaughter?" One dad didn't like the checking that was going on. The other dad was in the ring with the kids and wasn't going to do anything about the "excessive checking." Why is this use of the hockey stick called "checking?" It should be called assault with a potentially lethal weapon.

Brett Favre was a bad boy. A very bad partier. I met him out one night when G and I were dating. We were out with G's friend who is an ESPN producer. We were all out and I went to talk to Brett on a bet. He is a nice man, truly, but he wasn't always a good boy.

Then three things happened that changed Brett's life: Mark Chumura assaulted a teenaged girl and Brett met Reggie White. Chewy and Brett were buds. I do not know why Brett wasn't at that party that night, but he wasn't. Shortly thereafter, Deanna Favre filed for divorce.

These three things combined to force Brett to take stock of his life and thankfully, he chose the path of family first. It probably wasn't easy to stop drinking and partying, but he did it and made a lasting impression on his family and fans. Brett Farve isn't a saint, but he is a good man. I think he owes a lot of this to Reggie White, who was inducted into the Football Hall of Fame posthumously Saturday afternoon.

Reggie White broke the mold. He proved that a good man can accel and do great things and still be a good man. That is a lesson that every player in every sport should be taught. We, as fans, employ thugs by purchasing their jerseys and numbers and wearing them. Men and I use the term loosely, who support illegal activities, like drugs, prostitution and burglary should be treated like criminals and not heroes.

I don't think that Brett is a hero. I don't think that many men can live up to that mark. Reggie was a hero. He saved men from themselves. That used to carry a lot of weight. It used to be a standard that we held ourselves up to. Be the best man you can be. The best person that you can be. When we stopped requiring that of people, well simply put, we allowed ignorance and greed to rule. Greed is not one of the seven deadly sins by mistake.

Reggie White was only 43 when he passed away because of an undiagnosed heart ailment. In my heart of hearts, I do not think that he passed away from such a benign cause. I believe that the good die young because their hearts get broken more in their lifetimes. Yes they keep going and asking the rest of us to live up to the proper standards, but they see heartbreak and take it upon themselves to try to correct it.

It's about time that we use the old yardstick to measure the worth of a man. Yeah, bad things happened in the world back then, too, but they were the exceptions and not the rule. We have to hold ourselves up to a higher standard because that is what Jesus wants for us. We are supposed to be God-like. That is the goal. We need to hold everyone up to these standards-no matter what great gifts that God gave them. When we hold ourselves up to the proper standards of conduct, humanity and love, well we are earning our way into Heaven. It seems too many people have forgotten that. Yes, Jesus died to pave the way, but Heaven isn't a birthright. We earn the right to walk in the grace of God by trying to immulate His good works.

Reggie White was literally as big as a house. I walked within ten feet of him one day and I had to look up to see him. That man's body was full of heart; a very good and hard working heart. As much as he deserves to be in the Football Hall of Fame, I know that he is part of a much better and bigger team...and that is the team that he hopes we aspire to join and support.

Busted!

My heart is heavy tonight:

1. Children are dying in wars around the world. Seems like another country erupts into war each week.
2. Mel Gibson's conduct during a drunk driving arrest is more than appalling. I cannot believe that he spewed such hatred. If he made The Passion of the Christ from this chair of bigotry and ignorance, then I am not at all sorry that I wasn't able to watch the film. The pain that I heard about was sure to send me reeling. I am so sensitive to such things and make other's pain my own. I cannot believe that he was so awful. And alcoholism isn't a good enough excuse to act like he did. God doesn't hate Jewish people. How can any hate anyone when claiming to do something in His name? It's absurd.
3. My 19 year old asked my father if he would come to his Naval Academy graduation. My father said, "I don't know. I have to think about it." This is typical of my father. He declined to walk me down the aisle at our wedding without giving me more than, "I don't see how I can do that." No explanation. Nothing. It still hurts ten years later. Yet, it hurts me more that my son reached out to him-my father was a career Marine-for his support and my father..."Captain Father" declined. As near as I can figure it, he declines such things because my great aunt left her house to him. He is fearful that someone will break into it, so they just stay there. Never visiting their children or grandchildren. My father has never met Number One Daughter or Little Big Boy. Never. I don't think it is in the cards either. When I think of taking them to meet him, all I can think of is that if they meet him and my mother, they surely will face rejection from them. So I think, "No, thank you, Sir." I don't want my small children to have to live with the rejection that you inflict on your own children...much less your first generation of grandchildren.
4. I hope that peace reigns in Israel and Lebanon.
5. I pray for peace in the Middle East...Sometimes it seems like no one is listening...

Lucky Seven

Happy birthday, Number One Daughter. I am so very proud of you. I can't believe that it has been seven years since we rushed to the hospital during a severe thunder-storm with tornadoes popping up all over the state!

We were going to have her birthday party tomorrow. I almost cried when everything transpired today....

Her special, best friend from first grade was invited to her party, but can't come. She has an emergency Dr. appt. at Children's Hospital tomorrow. She's been having seizures. Yeah. I thought that, too.

As soon as I told Number One Daughter, she looked at me with her Caribbean blue eyes and said, "I'm not having my birthday until she gets better." That simple. That easy. That IMPORTANT to her heart.

I called her friend's house again and left a message that we are postponing her party until their daughter is better. My voice cracked a bit when I left the message.

Angels talked to my daughter when she was a newborn. We almost lost her, but it is obvious to me that Jesus himself holds her hand. She really does walk in his footprints. She is so loving and generous. How many seven year olds would give up their party? I am so very proud of her. My heart just swelled with pride.

Heart

When Barbaro shattered his rear right leg at the Preakness, it was devastating, but now that he is facing death because of the inflamation in his left rear leg, well it is beyond heart breaking.

The fact that he survived repeated surgery to his shattered leg, infections and replacement of hardware in his broken leg was a testament to his spirit. This new tragedy is stunning.

Trauma Centers around the U.S. operate on devastating injuries daily. Hardware is used repeatedly in injuries to heads and limbs. I am curious why it is so difficult for a horse to recover from similar surgery. In my mind, I wonder if it is because sterile equiment and a sterile surgical suite are not used-Mind you, I have no idea if there was a sterile environment for Barbaro's surgery.

I coordinated the Health Careers Awareness Project when I was in college. I selected the participants and used a grant that was awarded to the local JTPA. It was a fascinating program. We witnessed surgeries, treatments and opportunities in the healthcare arena from nursing homes to veterinary practice and EMTs to hospital ERs.

During the trip to the veterinary office, I was surprised that we watched a surgery with no protection for the cat. It was a sad surgery. The animal was being spayed, but she was already pregnant. I was stunned that the vet performed the feline abortion without emotion. It broke my heart.

Anyway, it would seem to me that all these years later, that there would be a way to save this amazing stallion. Each day I read with great interest about how he is faring in the ICU. He has demonstrated so much heart. There is so much honor in a person or animal with heart. I think that we aspire to have heart. If we go into our lives with the same heart in trying circumstances, we would be a very happy world, indeed.

Adoption Outrage

It has happened again. AGAIN. At the very least, it happens weekly. A story breaks in a newspaper that adoptive parents have abused their adopted children...Or foster parents have abused their foster children.

Yesterday, CNN reported that a couple with four children: three boys and one girl tied the boys up to keep them away from food. The girl wasn't starved, but the boys weighed only a fraction of what they should.

Legislators think that they are doing children a favor by making adoption laws. Yet, these stories are not rare-not in the least. It is a huge knife in my heart because these families are "screened." There are background checks. There are investigations. Then innocence is lost when courts award adoption to a man and woman who proceed to abuse their children.

The very same legislators occupy their time by drafting and submitting bans on gay/lesbian adoption. There are no screenings. There are no background checks. There are no investigations. The legislators have convinced themselves that if you allow gay and lesbians to adopt children, that those very children will be "recruited" into the gay/lesbian life style. This is ignorance at the highest level.

A few weeks ago, a report was released that indicates that there is a difference in the brain of gay/lesbian people. It is not an anomaly or choice, it is a genetic disposition. I have never heard of research into what the brains of abusive parents look like under the microscope.

A child needs love and care. When a child needs a family and prays to God, the child doesn't ask for a heterosexual home. They simply ask for a home. A home, a family and love. These are the things that children need to thrive. Rather than allow children to have a loving home, our government has decreed that it is better to place a child in an abusive home than a gay/lesbian home. Ignorance. Insanity. I cannot find the words to express my outrage over this.

A child who has been abused is a million times more likely to abuse children. Apparently our government thinks that the abusive legacy is preferable to a loving, caring home with two mothers or two fathers. It is a crime to be gay/lesbian, according to our government. I encourage you to watch the case and see how short the prison terms are for this couple. This isn't justice; it is a joke.

Gates of Heaven

I want to whisk my man away for a while. I think he deserves a bit of quiet and pampering. He has the best soul. He truly is the best man that I have ever known.

Great Gma, passed yesterday at 4:55 p.m. G was there by her side. He told her, "Everything is going to be okay. It's okay to go." And then she took a few breaths several minutes apart and she slipped away toward the gates of Heaven.

It meant a lot to him that he was there. I admire him for his strength. I'm amazed that he is as okay with it as he is. He told me, "I've been given a great gift." He told me that he didn't like elderly people before this. You know they are hard of hearing and it is difficult to communicate with them, but now he feels a kinship with them. It is very neat.

He isn't impatient with elderly drivers anymore either. He just waits for them to go. It makes me feel bad.

I think that the United States is the only country in the world where we treat our elderly as a huge inconvenience. Others the world over treat them with respect and awe. Haven't they lived through so much! Can't they teach us so much?

I am determined to take this page from G's book and use it to develop one of my own. It is striking how childlike the elderly are. I think it is the way it is supposed to be. The innocence returns as we reach the end of our lives. Only with that innocence are we allowed to walk in Jesus' presence. It all makes sense in my heart now.

My husband is a great man.

Holy Cow, Batman

What a few weeks this has been! Everything that can happen, has...almost literally....

1. 19 year old's car-the one that I bought for him just two or three months ago; his FIRST car-was parked in the street in front of our home and BAM! CRUNCH!! HOLY TOTALED CAR, BATMAN.
2. On the bright side, no one was injured-a mother was on her cell phone when she ran into the car. Her children were with her...one-seven year old was in the front seat. It is almost miraculous that her children weren't hurt. Thank God.
3. Then 19 yr. old bolstered by the mistaken encouragement of his father decided that he needed a status car. He drove all the way to Georgia to pick up a BMW. My son has a Beemer...it sits parked in the same spot as the Grand Prix...tempting fate and distracted drivers...but you can't tell a teen anything, huh? (I love him anyway.)
4. G's great aunt passed away. In true fashion, the doctor gave her two weeks to live and she lingered for four weeks. No one EVER told her what to do or how to do it:) She lived a good long life.
5. G's 102 yr. old great-grandmother is slipping away fast. She is lovely and was born in 1904. G is heartbroken, but taking it very well. He cares for her most nights as she makes her way to her journey home. He is an amazing man, my G. He is gifted with people who are reaching the end of their lives. Truly gifted.
6. I signed a deal to write a mini-book. I did it. I finally signed a book deal. Even though it is a mini-book, I'm just happy that I achieved this milestone. I have wanted to write a book since I before I won a writing contest when I was in the 5th grade.
7. I am listening to Music Choice-80's music channel right now. Mony Mony by Billy Idol is just starting. Do you know the story of Mony Mony? Tommy James wanted to write a dance craze song. He was in New York in a hotel room and a neon light was flashing: M-O-N-Y: Mutual of New York and music history was made:)
8. I miss radio...does it show?

Bless Us With Peace

"Daddy, where are you?" The little girl asked on this holiday.
In the lines of fire, Honey, so that you can live and play.
"Daddy when are you coming home?"
I miss you and don't like to play alone.

"Dearest Darling, The nights are so long without you by my side.
I am brave in front of the children and know they are your pride.
At night I sprinkle your after shave on your pillow to help me sleep.
I meet you in my dreams and feel my heart leap."

"We are filled with pride by your sacrifices so that we can live free.
And we send God's blessings to you and hugs from the kids and me.
We filled the care package with jerky, toiletries and love
Little snacks and gifts made by little hands with great love."

"How long is a month without you? Or even a single day?
Come home to me soon, my Love, I constantly pray.
Just a moment, Darling, there's a knock at the door..."
I turn the knob and see the uniforms before I crumble to the floor.

"Good night, my Darling," I manage to utter as I lay a rose on your grave.
"Good bye, Daddy," your baby sniffles, "you were so brave."
Just before I leave your grave, I stifle a sob-laden cry...
"Dear God in Heaven bless us with peace every Fourth of July."

Airman First Class William Hart Pitsenbarger

THE CITATION: Airman First Class Pitsenbarger distinguished himself by extreme valor on 11 April 1966 near Cam My, Republic of Vietnam, while assigned as a Pararescue Crew Member, Detachment 6, 38th Aerospace Rescue and Recovery Squadron.

On that date, Airman Pitsenbarger was aboard a rescue helicopter responding to a call for evacuation of casualties incurred in an on-going firefight between elements of the United States Army's 1st Infantry Division and a sizable enemy force approximately 35 miles east of Saigon. With complete disregard for personal safety, Airman Pitsenbarger volunteered to ride a hoist more than one hundred feet through the jungle, to the ground.

On the ground, he organized and coordinated rescue efforts, cared for the wounded, prepared casualties for evacuation, and insured that the recovery operation continued in a smooth and orderly fashion. Through his personal efforts, the evacuation of the wounded was greatly expedited. As each of the nine casualties evacuated that day were recovered, Pitsenbarger refused evacuation in order to get one more wounded soldier to safety.

After several pick-ups, one of the two rescue helicopters involved in the evacuation was struck by heavy enemy ground fire and was forced to leave the scene for an emergency landing. Airman Pitsenbarger stayed behind, on the ground, to perform medical duties. Shortly thereafter, the area came under sniper and mortar fire. During a subsequent attempt to evacuate the site, American forces came under heavy assault by a large Viet Cong force.

When the enemy launched the assault, the evacuation was called off and Airman Pitsenbarger took up arms with the besieged infantrymen. He courageously resisted the enemy, braving intense gunfire to gather and distribute vital ammunition to American defenders. As the battle raged on, he repeatedly exposed himself to enemy fire to care for the wounded, pull them out of the line of fire, and return fire whenever he could, during which time, he was wounded three times.

Despite his wounds, he valiantly fought on, simultaneously treating as many wounded as possible. In the vicious fighting which followed, the American forces suffered 80 percent casualties as their perimeter was breached, and airman Pitsenbarger was finally fatally wounded. Airman Pitsenbarger exposed himself to almost certain death by staying on the ground, and perished while saving the lives of wounded infantrymen. His bravery and determination exemplify the highest professional standards and traditions of military service and reflect great credit upon himself, his unit, and the United States Air Force.

Group Therapy

Frankly, I held little hope that the soldiers that were kidnapped last Friday would be found alive; too many kidnapping victims have been murdered to hold out any hope for that, but my heart is breaking for the soldiers families.

In spite of the political turmoil, there is still rousing support for our troops. That is what was sorely lacking during the Vietnam conflict. I am no fan of the 60s or 70s. To me it is a bitter pill. The memory of people shouting hatred at our troops. It was a sad day in the life of the United States.

I suppose that I should fess up to being duped by my President and the "intelligence" used to launch this war...Against the wishes of many countries. Nevertheless, Saddam Hussein has committed horrific crimes against his countrymen. I still believe that the people of Iraq will be better off living a life without a tyrant as the leader of their country.

I do not know if this war was necessary. Perhaps that will never be known, but I do believe that we took down a heathen. How many times do we sit idle as people are murdered? How often does it happen in our big cities?

When Katrina all but wiped New Orleans from the face of our country, it became evident that we are not prepared to take care of our own. God knows that homelessness and hunger are problems here-in our neighborhoods. Your next door neighbor could be going to bed hungry tonight.

Yet, we keep our gaze directed to Darfur and the problems in the Middle East. We know that tyranny is not only unjust, but inhuman. Perhaps the greatest lesson that we could have learned after 9/11 was that we are not prepared. We aren't.

Before we help anyone else, we need to help ourselves. As long as hunger, homelessness, disease and desperation take lives in the United States, we are just as guilty as the leadership that inflicts these things on their own people.

Our government doesn't take our homes and crops from us; nor does our government steal our riches or assassinate us on the streets, but we are killing each other and causing each other to suffer. We the residents of the richest country in the world. We have so much. Yet people suffer here just like in poorer countries.

Perhaps we need to turn our gaze inward. Maybe it is time to concentrate on the little wars that erupt every night in our major cities. We need to hold a huge therapy session for our government-help them recognize that we need to help ourselves before we can truly help anyone else. Self-nurturing isn't selfishness, it is necessary.

Full circle

On a very dark day in September of 2005, I kicked 18-year-old out of our home. Last week he called me and wanted to know if he could come home. He moved in yesterday.

My heart is singing. I have so much to say, but we are busy with the last day of school. He left a moody, angry and deceitful boy and he walked in the door like a man. Amazing transformation-like a butterfly emerging from the chrysalis.

Little Women

Little Women is one of my favorite novels. Four daughters pining away for their father while he is at war...I have often thought that the story mimicked our lives. Well with the one exception: we had three girls and one boy.

Little Sis was Beth, Big Sis was Meg and I was Jo. That is what we all believed.

During the Vietnam conflict, we waited for our Daddy to come home. We made him audio tapes. I remember that I "played" my nose-stop laughing. It is a talent, is it not?

I think that Dad was gone many more years than he was home. Deployed here. Deployed there. Destinations unknown.

We were lucky: our Daddy returned in one piece from every deployment. Yes, it is not lost on my how lucky we are. The family of Colonel Skinner wasn't as fortunate and I remember watching the sedans drive up and the stoic looks on the faces of the men who seemed to march to my best friend's door. That knock and hundreds of thousands like it have rung out in towns and cities and bergs across this great country. Indeed that knock has been heard around the world too many times.

I understand the sacrifices of our military because we lived the military life. I have a brother in law in the service and 19 year old is still considering signing up. He has friends in Iraq right now. These men and women have our backs.

There are little women all over the world who are hoping that their daddies come home safely to them. Today I honor the lives of those lost, but not forgotten. Today, I remember the bravery that our soldiers display even in the face of certain risk and possible death.

Today I also pray for peace. I wish that there were more leaders who wanted to hear silence rather than gunfire. As long as tyranny, terrorists and threats exist, we will have war. Today, I pray that not one single future infamous leader is born. Even if only for today, I pray that this day will not shine on the face of a baby destined to become a heathen.

I must also remember our fallen police officers, agents and marshals; as well as our fallen fire fighters. Their risk is as great, but on our own streets. God bless the men and women who live their lives to make me and my family safe all over the world.

God bless America and democracy. God bless freedom. God bless the families who have lost so much that we can live our lives unafraid. God have mercy on our troops.

The golden hour

Robert Frost has been quoted in this blog many a time. I found the inspiration to write when I was in elementary school because I loved his work.

The Golden Hour is a medical reference among its many definitions. In essence, there is an hour in which to save very, very sick trauma patient.

A 'golden hour' of hope. A golden opportunity to make a difference in the life of someone who met with extraordinary circumstances. Or rather and simply at the wrong place at the wrong time.

Tonight I watched Baghdad ER. On the verge of tears throughout, I have to ask myself if my little sis is right when she asks me, "Why do you surround yourself with suffering?"

I found that question incredibly thought provoking. It didn't take long for me to recognize the pattern that she is referring to and then I asked myself another question: Do I surround myself with suffering so that I will not have to think about or more importantly "relive" so that I can purge the suffering from my own life?

As long as I can remember, I have volunteered to help, but was my volunteering a means in which I was able to immerse myself in someone else's pain and thus ignore my own. I am very open about the monsters in my past. I have had years and years of therapy. Each time that I think that I have reached the point where I can live my life without PTSD making an appearance, it finds a time and place to rear its head. Usually I can lengthen the time between memories by focusing on other's suffering.

So, am I really helping others, or am I really running from myself? That isn't the correct question either, the real one is much more thought provoking: Am I ready to look the monsters in the face once and for all? Have I finally arrived at a point where I realize that I cannot exercise the monsters from my life, but I can live with it now. It is okay that I was hurt, but no one is harming now. It's okay to laugh and be happy.

I used to think that my "happy self" was a lie. Most of my life, I "acted" like people wanted me to be. Happy, engaging, entertaining. Most of my life was based on this "lie." I was always laughing and smiling. In the privacy of my own room, I wrote sad poems of rejection and loss.

Recently, I noticed that my "happy self" isn't a lie; it was a defense mechanism and a survival skill for a long time. But now when I am surrounded by people that I love and who love me, it is okay to be happy-inside and out. Recently I realized that I can be happy.

So Robert Frost is actually wrong in this poem: "...so leaf subsides to leaf; so Eden sank to grief; so dawn goes down to day. Nothing gold can stay." It isn't true. A rainbow is not always seen, but the promise is always there. If you give yourself permission, the gold in life can envelope you like a hug from God.

Perhaps now for the first time in my life, I realize that I can be happy and live with the past because no one is harming me now. I don't have to be sad and feel the loss anymore. It's over. I can be lifted up on the shoulders of my family and friends and be happy. I know that this feeling is not new to my blog, but maybe each time that I get here, I get closer to really living life. And for that reason, I feel like standing on the Grand Teton and shouting for joy.

DANCE!!!

Judson Laipply is dancing in the video on the righthand border. Click the play button and enjoy six minutes of great memories:)

ENJOY. LOL.
Renee

Mutha's Day

I do not like swearing. Not in the least, but I could not think of a better title for this.

Last night, a 27-year old mother was arrested for leaving her two-year old daughter in a minivan while the "mutha" drank in a tavern. The minivan was left running and the heater was on high. The little precious girl had a winter coat on and was bawling her eyes out.

A man who arrived at the bar at 12:30 went inside and asked everyone in there if it was their van. He found the "woman" and she went outside-stumbling all the way-and then tried to leave the scene.

The man and his fiance blocked the woman from exiting and the man removed the little girl from the van so that the woman wouldn't leave. When police officers arrived, they promptly arrested the woman. The baby girl was placed with her biological father.

Earlier this week, a woman was convicted of killing her 18 month old baby. She tossed the baby into a bathtub. That isn't exactly true. She THREW the baby into the faucet. There was a brain hemorrhage and the baby never awoke from a nap.

In this world there are mothers and there are "muthas." Thank God I was blessed with a mother and my daughter is so compassionate, that I know she will be a wonderful mother. I think mothers should be allowed to punish "muthas." Why?

The mother who left her baby in the car while she partied in a tavern was charged with a misdemeanors. The woman who threw her baby into the faucet was given single digit years in prison. Yes, mothers should be able to punish "muthas."

Potential parents who find that they are unable to conceive should also be able to punish "muthas." Yes, this would be real justice.

This and that...Again...

We had snow flurries for Mother's Day. No, I am not kidding. They melted as soon as they hit anything, but there were little bits of snow and freezing rain.

I love Calla lilies. They were my wedding flower. Ivory roses and white calla lilies. These yellow ones are wonderful.

When you watch My Great Big Fat Greek Wedding, there is a scene in her hubby's parents' dining room and there is a black and white photo of a calla Lilly. It is beautiful.

I am keeping busy and continue to search for another gig. There isn't much available right now. I never thought about it, but a lot of jobs are taken because students are home on break from college. And of course high school students are off, too.
That's fine with me. I wouldn't mind having the summer with my children. Troy will be in four-year-old preschool next year and will go three days per week instead of twice. Then it is on to all day kindergarten.

I think it is good that K-5 is all day now. I would have loved being able to go to school all day. Even though it was only half a day when I was in kindergarten, we still had to have a nap period at school. I HATED that. I could never fall asleep.

I make up for that now. Sleep deprivation when the kids were infants is still taking its toll on me. I say that only partly in jest. I think that G will never be caught up on his sleep. He made the Dean's list again and the Who's Who in American Colleges. Already degreed, he is very close to his second degree. What a great accomplishment. He works so hard. I don't think that I tell him how proud of him I am often enough. I am. I am in awe of his resolve and dedication. I wish that I had half of his drive when it comes to school.

Kids are sleeping and I have chores to do. Come back again, soon. Renee

Musing

Tom Cruise was on Ellen today. It made me think of Rosie and her huge crush on him. I adored Katie Holmes. I am still rather stunned that she and Cruise are together, but when true happiness finds your heart, you have to be smart enough to take hold of it.

Happy Mother's Day.

I left

Well, I resigned. Who needs all of that stress? I feel better.

My kids and I are battling sinus infections and poor Little Big Boy has a double ear infection to boot.

I'm waiting for the next opportunity....

Vulnerability

Will I lose my job? Me thinks it is in the wind. I just cannot complete my work in one business day. It's really sad because I do like the job itself.

Someone from my past, a sith, if you will discovered me and emailed me. I do not know how he found me, but suspect that he googled my father's name and found me that way. I changed a recent post and my blog address so that he couldn't find me again.

He is a relative. The son of a monster. The apple did not fall far from the tree. There really were monsters under my bed. I know that I am not alone in that, but the shock of his finding me made me feel little and vulnerable again.

I am safe. It is 2006 and I am safe and I am not a little girl.

I wonder if I will ever move to a place in my heart, mind and body when I can accept my past and live in the present. I don't have the answer. I know that I am not unique. I know that it is prevalent. Perhaps that is the greatest irony of all: maybe people get tired of hearing about childhood abuse of any kind.

Although there is a lot of baggage on my plate this weekend, I am not drowning in despair. I am looking forward to relaxing with my family this weekend. Monday will bring what Monday will bring.

Ten

...years since we said I will or I do, or whatever we said. LOL. I have so much to say, but no time to post. I'm still trying to prove myself on the job. I just wanted to pop in and thank you for checking in on me.

one year ago, I launched this blog and I posted every day...now I wish I could post once per week. :) Miss you....hugs, Renee

Fascinating

This horse is crafted from driftwood. Y ou would be amazed by the beautiful sculptures that the artist does-and not just horses, but mostly horses. My little sister sent me about one dozen pictures of her work and her website-the artist's, not my sister's:)

http://www.jansch.freeserve.co.uk/index.htm

Visit her site. It is more amazing than anything that I can describe.

I have been working many, many hours. It is not going well, so silence reigns. I hate silence, but just realized that there are times when I wrap myself in it for comfort.

Originally, I was signed on for part time work. It has been increased to full time. My supervisor wants EVERYTHING and I mean every slip of paper and duty completed by the end of the work day. It is almost impossible to finish everything in one day.

She trained me for two days and then went back to her office and has come down a day here and there to train me more, but she doesn't understand why I am not "getting it". It's hard to understand something that you have not really been prepared for.

I am no dummy and have always been a high producer, but this gig is hard to grasp. There are many new things to learn. I am about ready to give up and that is not like me. I am in a quandary. I am sad, too. No one likes to be a loser. That is how I feel...Ignorant. My supervisor is so frustrated. I told her from the beginning that I am visual and "hands on." That is how I learn best. She doesn't understand why it isn't staying with me when she makes me watch her do something.

Today, like every weekend for a month, I went to the office on my own time to try to get a handle on things. I printed out this online training manual and have been reading it, but she so much as told me that this coming week is my last to make it work. She said, "I really want this to work, but I have concerns."

I have to admit that I am feeling like it would be better to just leave. It has in many ways been a nightmare. Yet, it did get me back out into the world again. I leave my home each morning and go to work. I have left our home more in the past two months than I left home all of last year. I was virtually a shut in...So it has been a good thing, but I wish it was going better.

I did see an advertisement for a great job, though. So off I send my updated resume; time to see what is in store for the next leg...

Blessed Easter to you.

"The known soldier"

Thank you Staff Sergeant Dwight Morgan.

Marine Staff Sgt. Dwight J. Morgan 24, of Mendocino, California.

Morgan died when a Marine CH-53E crashed in a remote region

60 kilometers south of Bagram in Northern Afghanistan.

He was assigned to Marine Heavy Helicopter Squadron 361 (HMH-361),

the "Flying Tigers" of Marine Aircraft Group 16, Combined Task Force 58,

3rd Marine Aircraft Wing,

Marine Corps Air Station, Miramar, California. Died on January 19, 2002.

Thank you Colonel Skinner-Died on helicopter as it lifted him out of Vietnam for his return to his family. His tour in the war zone was over. Then God called him for a tour in Heaven.

Thank you Captain, Ret., dad

Vietnam Veteran

Career Marine.

Thank you to my brother in law, an Air Force drill sergeant,

two cousins, home safe from Iraq and three friends currently deployed.

I am a military brat and proud of it.

God bless our Armed Forces around the world and at home.

Don't Tread on Me.

Land of dreams...

"give me your tired; your poor, your huddled masses." The Statue of Liberty sits in New York harbor greeting people from around the world. I do not understand the immigration mess. I do not understand even when I consider the events of September 11th.

This is a crazy world. A dangerous world, but if we lose our compassion for others, then we have lost the meaning of the American Dream.

Immigrants have come from every corner of the world to seek a better life for themselves and their families. I know that all of us would find the date when our ancestors immigrated if we looked up our family trees.

In every culture there are people who need help. There are poor every where. In fact, you probably know someone who goes to sleep hungry each night. There is so much discrimination in the world. Even in the year 2006. I am so sad about that.

I think we need to admit that we have a lot of work to do in race relations, poverty and hunger. We need to work on it every day and begin the job at home-with our children.

Thankfully immigrants came to this country in the first place. I can only hope that we will welcome people home again. The American Dream is dying a painful death...not only for those who are trying to make it here, but for those of us who have lived here for generations. Fear or apathy will only breed harm.

You know someone who is hungry. You know someone who wants for a necessity. These people live that every day. It's time to open our arms and minds again...

As Tears Go By
Rolling Stones
Marianne Faithfull

It is the evening of the day,
I sit and watch the children play.
Smiling faces I can see
But not for me,
I sit and watch as tears go by.
My riches can't buy everything,
I want to hear the children sing.
All I hear is the sound
Of rain falling on the ground,
I sit and watch as tears go by.
It is the evening of the day,
I sit and watch the children play.
Doing things I used to do
They think are new,
I sit and watch as tears go by.
Hmm, hmm, hmm, hmm, hmm, hmm, hmm, hmm, hmm
Hmm, hmm, hmm, hmm, hmm, hmm, hmm, hmm, hmm
Hmm, hmm, hmm, hmm, hmm, hmm, hmm, hmm ...

I find this song soothing...as heart breaking as it is; it makes me ponder things. How to make it better for children...how to spare children....that is what my life is really about. Rather that is what I want my life to be about. I used celebrity drops in this song to ask our listeners to call in and/or drop by our radio-athon. We raised money for the Variety Club. It was a perfect song to get people to open their wallets...I love children.

As an aside, I love Jon Edwards new show on WE (Women's Entertainment). Jon Edwards Cross Country. Amazing to have that talent. Amazing.

Goodbye, Mommy

She couldn't have been more than four years old. Her little face against the cold window. She stared out into the night watching the cars leave the parking lot. Tears streamed down her face and her sobs were oddly controlled for one so young. She waved to each car because she wasn't sure which one was theirs. "Good bye, Mommy," she cried, "I love you. Good bye, Mommy."

A couple feet away, her mother stood. The little girl had wandered off and the mother was teaching her a lesson. A young sales associate-obviously of high school age was moved by the little girl's tears. She wanted to walk over to the little girl and scoop her up and tell her that her mommy was here. But the little girl's mommy waved the teenager off. No one was allowed to rescue the little girl. The mommy didn't let anyone rescue her.

The mother should have been rescued herself. If someone had rescued that mommy, she might not have stood there inflicting pain on her little girl.

I see it as if it is happening right now. Post Traumatic Stress Disorder is like that. One step up and two steps back. Today, I realized that the many monsters in my life included the people that I expected to protect me. The need for me to protect my children is so strong and unwavering. I do not understand how someone could stand by while their child cried for any reason.

Tonight I am standing in that window watching all of the cars drive away and I think that I will never be home again. In a way, it might have been an easier life.

I keep accepting things, but then a new dam bursts and visions visit relentlessly. I wonder how many more nightmares I have to relive?

"I'm the Special Day boy!"

Rise and shine and give God your glory, glory... That was how today felt. Little Big Boy is one step closer to becoming a Big Boy. Today he turned four. He jumped out of bed and said, "Today is my birthday! I'm the Special Day Boy!" "Mom, I'm four," he said excitedly as he showed me four fingers.

"Why are you so special today," I asked to which he stated matter of factually, "Because Jesus made me special."

Four? Um hmm.

18 year old turned 19 on the 14th. You see March is the big birthday month in my side of the family: My brother: March 12th; 19 yr. old: March 14th-though I went into labor at 5:30 a.m. on the 12th and finally the dr. took him by C-section; March 15th my niece; March 28: Little Big Boy and March 31st my God son.

Today Little Big Boy got a Power Rangers SPD bike. He was so grateful for each gift. Even a water bottle that 19 year old gave him; it's one of the promotional kind that Play it Again Sports gives away...19 yr. old works there now.

We had the birthday party at a place called Pizza Safari; it is a tamer (pun intended) version of Chuck E. Cheese's, which I swore off when 19 year old wasn't...;)

It was a great party. My baby is four. Sigh. It goes so fast. I can't wait to get outside in the spring air and ride bikes. Oh my life is grand.

Story board...

Visit Heidi's Pieces of Me for a fun challenge....:) http://4youmyworld.blogspot.com/ It will be interesting to see where this goes...

La da da da da

da da da da da da da da da....can you see me on the trapeze and that song is playing...Burt hums it in Mary Poppins while he is pretending to ride a unicycle on a highwire in one of his sidewalk pictures.

Today was a bad day. If it could go wrong, it seemed like it did. However, I couldn't sleep last night and I finally lied down at 4:15 a.m. and Little Big Boy awoke at 5:55 a.m. Big exasperated sigh!

I am not used to juggling anymore. I mean that with a wink and a smile. Today was frustrating, but it wasn't awful-rather there was a two hour period when I was ready to scream, but it's over.

I like my new job. I worked ten hours yesterday so that I can learn the software. I could hardly move when G picked me up. I'm still hurting from my fall down a flight of stairs. I haven't told my boss about about it. It isn't a work related injury; it happened months ago, but my back has never been the same.

So I am pooped through and through. I have days when there is so much new information in my brain that I short-circuit. I mean it is like hitting a brick wall. It is interesting, though. I work in an office alone for the most part and I flourish when I am given a job and allowed to simply do it.

G is taking the brunt of the juggling right now. He has to juggle much more than I: school, full-time job and family. He has no time for himself. He thinks the same thing about me. Then we realized that our time at work is our time. It gives you a brighter perspective. In the short-term that works.

Number One Daughter is a "clinger"...no, not Klingon...a clinger...she needs to be in the same room with us. She can do something independently, but she flourishes when we are near. Little Big Boy on the other hand is so independent that it is almost scary. He is very out-going and he can sit alone and play for long periods.

Their personalities make juggling everything a bit easier. One is ready for cuddling, but I don't feel overwhelmed by it. They take turns. Our night-time routine is non-existent and it is rearing its ugly head!

Bath! Books! Bedtime! It is a perfect end to a day of juggling....night, night.

"Reality" t.v.

I stayed away from so-called reality t.v. for a long time. Then last year, I decided to watch American Idol. Then I stumbled upon America's Next Top Model and finally upon Project Runway. I should have stayed away.

I'm not watching Idol this season; that doesn't matter much because most of the world is watching it. I am not watching Tyra's model search this season either. And now that Project Runway has ended, I have decided not to watch it next season either.

I wanted Daniel Vosovic to win. During the finale, I thought Santino Rice might have pulled off a win. It was bizarre that the judges beat Santino down all season and then bashed him all over for playing it too safe at Fashion Week.

Santino was the element that kept it interesting-in the eyes of the producers. He was one of the last two so many times during the contest that it is a wonder that he made it all the way to Fashion Week. But Chloe Dao pulled out a shocking win.

Dao had discussed that she had already done the New York designer scene and that she wasn't sure that she wanted it. In spite of her back peddling regarding her "hunger" for the win, I think she was the least likely to take advantage of the winnings, which include a Saturn sports car, $100,000 seed money to start her line and a mentorship by Banana Republic.

In simple terms, Dao has "been there; done that." I didn't care for her line either. Some of it looked like bad prom night dresses. I mean AWFUL. All glowing materials...pass my sun glasses, please.

Daniel won most of the challenges during the season, as did Kara Sann, last season...but there was one big difference: Daniel is a nice person, too. Yeah Kara is nice, but she pulled the fast one with her designer shoes last season, which, by the way, I did not watch.

I'm done with reality t.v. The outcome is bizarre. The person that seems to earn the win doesn't win. There is so much "drama," which is only a ploy to keep people watching. Also, the season two reunion show was a bust. Guadalupe was drunk. They had been drinking. Obviously no producer remembered the final episode of Cheers and the after party that was held on Jay Leno's Tonight Show. The cast was drunk and stoned. I was certain that after that error in judgment that producers would not mix alcohol and/or controlled substances with reunions or other televised cast showings.

There was a little bit of redemtion for Daniel, though; Michael Kors told him to call him if he needs a job. I thought the dress that Kors made for Heidi Klum at Fashion Week looked an awful lot like Emmet's party dress for Nicky Hilton...hmmmm.

Reality t.v. is fake. I used to think that it was just funny. What a joke that people watch it. That is what I thought. Now I think reality t.v. is sad. Very, very sad. They sew. She cuts. I turn off the t.v.