Ye olde electric company's "Bah humbug"

My dad mentioned to me that there weren't many homes decorated for Christmas this year. He lives in South-eastern Missouri. Last night I picked up Number One Daughter from her Brownie's Christmas Party and ran some quick errands. Lo and behold, there weren't many homes decorated here either.

There are your die-hard decorating fans who put up their overblown outdoor displays no matter what; you know the kind that actually rival the National Lampoon's Christmas Vacation display. But I am talking about your average decorator. You know: Joe Outdoor Decorator. A simple string of lights around the roof of his home and maybe a string or two of lights on his hedge, but nothing too extravagant. Apparently Joe Outdoor Decorator can't afford to put up his tasteful lighting display this year. What a shame!

One of my most favorite memories is driving around and looking at Christmas lights. When 18 year old was 18 MONTHS old, he would squeal happily, "Yites!!!!" It bothers me that there may be children who don't get to see the enchanting displays that he enjoyed. I loved light displays when I was little too.

So I am alarmed, but I have an idea on how to fix this problem. The outdoor lighting and decoration manufacturers need to, "put the squeeze" on electric companies. Yes! The Outdoor Lighting & Display Manufacturers Mafia, if you will. I imagine that outdoor lighting and decoration manufacturers have a lobby because a lobby is a requirement if you want to be heard by our government.

Granted not all electric company's are city owned, but that doesn't mean that lobbiests couldn't work on privately-held electric company bigwigs, too. Surely, the Manufacturers Mafia would be able to persuade electric companies to hold down rates so people can turn on lights.

All kidding aside, what about heating? It is a crime that people cannot afford to keep their homes warm enough in winter. Stories of fixed income elderly literally freezing to death is reprehensible, to say the least.

I wonder what electric company upper management's home lighting displays look like? I would venture that they can afford to put a whole lot of lights on their upper class homes. Hmmm. I think I have an extra long extension cord lying around here some where...

Finding the magic

My little sister's second oldest son asked her, "What do YOU want for Christmas?" Her reply was very simple, "Magic. I want magic."

He is a freshman at Texas A&M University. He has a heart of gold. This year, he sent money home to my little sister for the Christmas tree. I ask you: what college freshman has money for a Christmas tree???? He knew and understood that this was important to his mom.

In the telling of this exchange between daughter and son, I find Christmas magic, for what is more definitive of Christmas than a selfless act. I will never know what sacrifices this son made to be able to send funds for the Christmas tree, but I know that it represents far more than that money could possibly buy.

Moreover, this is a gift that keeps on giving long after the tree makes its way to the curb around New Year's Day. My little sister's second oldest is a good man. That is the best gift that he could give. I know that the MAGIC of Christmas can elude, but sometimes a fresh pair of eyes can help reveal it. Viola! It is Christmas.

No other way

I found this quote after the events of September 11, 2001:

If Tears Could Build A Stairway, And Memories A Lane,

I'd Walk Right Up To Heaven And Bring You Home Again.

And then this morning I thought about my brother.

What if?

It is not worth the risk and I move freely toward the phone

to tell him I am here and I have missed him.
There is no other way and I am glad.

On the outs

When years have rolled by and there has been a rift or misunderstanding with a sibling and out of the blue a holiday card arrives, I am tempted to run to him. Especially because the signature line makes it seem that it is quite possible that he could be in a lot of pain.

Then my pride or whatever you want to call it takes over and I do not know what to do. I want to grab the telephone and call him because he sent his new phone number. I want to tell him that I am here and never went away.

Then this voice inside of me wells up and wants to scream: YOU CUT ME OFF.

You did this and it hurt my heart...Without explanation and with a lot of chat between our parents and sisters, you cut me and my family out of your life.

I think that I know why you did it. My Number One Daughter had sent several letters and messages to you when you were very, very ill. You never replied and I scolded you. I think you were ticked off about it. Well, what price my daughter's feelings? You have three daughters and never considered how they would feel if I had done the same to them. You would have moved to protect them.

I'm sorry. I'm sorry for the years that have been lost. I am sorry that it looks like you are still in pain. Most of all, I am sorry that you didn't understand that a little heart reached out to you. A little heart was trying to comfort you. You didn't even acknowledge her.

Where did you learn that? Her heart is worth the trouble of a note. Even one sentence: Thank you, Number One Daughter. Just one sentence.

I am sitting here paralyzed by this. I have written you a Christmas card, too. I only wrote them last night. But it is sitting here because I don't want to set my kids up for pain again.

Seven years ago, I left my parents house on Christmas Eve. We were hundreds of miles from home and I left anyway, husband and 18 year old in tow. It was an awful night. Eighteen year old was 11 years old. I was pregnant with Number One Daughter. The awfulness was in the air. It was smothering. I yelled at my father. He said things; I said things and we left. I remember looking towards the back door and he turned off the light before we drove away. That was a defining moment. I left their home in darkness. I remember that night as if it were yesterday. 18 year old vomited in the backseat. His tummy was a rage because of the awful confrontation. We didn't even get that far away and stopped at a hotel. We had Christmas in a hotel that year. Bright and early we arose opened gifts and then hit the road. It was a 14-hour drive home on Christmas day. We had the roads to ourselves that year.

Several weeks later, I called to talk. My dad said, "It's a bit too early for that." So I hung up the phone. I do not know when we began talking again, but it was that year.

I talk to my parents and miss them, too. I would like to go visit them again, but that chance that there will be ugliness weighs on me and I do not go. Neither Number One Daughter, nor Little Big Boy have met my parents. I have invited my parents to my home, but they do not come. To be fair, they do not visit any of us-their children that is. They have their reasons.

The disfunction in this family has caused many a rift. Now I need to decide whether or not "fixing it" is worth the trouble and possible pain. I remember when my dad was gone...In Vietnam and when he was simply stationed abroad for a year at a time or stationed in San Diego when we lived four hours north, that I was the one who walked down scary dark hallways to make sure that bogeymen were at bay. It always turned out to be a branch against a window or something benign, but there was that one real-live bogeyman in our lives. The "grandfather" who trolled the halls at night.

But the bogeyman that remains alive and well in my imagination now is the one that I cannot figure out what to do with. I know that families cause each other pain and you move on, but I am hypersensitive when pain lands on my children's doorstep. I am determined that they will not be harmed. So I sit here and I can't make myself step into that darkened hallway in my mind.

I would like to call my brother; I really would, but I am staring at the phone. I would like to go visit my parents for the holidays again...But the trek is haunted with carnage and the phone lines are tied up in carnage. Once upon a time, the carnage was my heart.

Stacy's Mom "B" side

Yes. Stacy's Mom by Fountains of Wayne is the song that plays on the latest Dr. Pepper commercial.

Which brings to mind this aside: In my early 20s when I was working in the most beautiful California State and National Parks, including Muir Woods, where I first fell in love with my wonderful Redwoods, I would break things up for my crew by performing the then very popular Dr. Pepper commercial: "I'm a Pepper...You're a Pepper...He's a Pepper... She's a Pepper... Wouldn't you like to be a Pepper, too?" I would just leap up on top of a picnic table and dance from there to a tree stump and so on. Singing the song and dancing and soon, my crew would be dancing and singing with me. Oh, those were truly special days. Who wouldn't want to be a Pepper? But I digress.

So the current Dr. Pepper commercial features an "ordinary" mom. A soccer mom who brings an ice chest of Dr. Pepper to the soccer team. It is a great commercial in my mind because it combines the thought that "moms" have "it" going on. In the day, I could truly have been Stacy's mom, but that is another story.

Now as former radio personalities, my husband, G and I were privy to some of the stories behind the music. It is rather neat to know the origin or inspiration of a song. G is an alternative music guru. You name any band and he will have listened to them and liked them long before they hit the airwaves or before they became mainstream popular. Like Gwen Stefani former front woman of No Doubt...There is always something a bit sad when a band folds so the "talent" can go mainstream. To this day, I prefer No Doubt to Gwen Stefani solo, but that is the way of the all mighty dollar and dreams, eh?

Well, you may notice that in my previous post, I chose a picture of Elle MacPherson. This is not accidental. The story of Stacy's Mom that was spreading was that it was inspired by Elle or one of the other "supermodels" of her day. Elle has a daughter, you know. Well, leave it to me to contact the band's handlers to get the scoop on the inspiration. Surprisingly, I received a reply immediately.

Suffice to say that the thoughts of the author of the reply were unimaginative to say the least. Uninspired and frankly monotoned. So I will tell you "my truth" about it....

Once upon a time, Adam, a member of Fountains of Wayne noticed that Elle MacPherson was preparing to board a flight with her daughter. He watched Elle tend to her daughter. Even when Elle wasn't on an assignment, her body always looked like she was camera ready. You can just look at Elle and get a feeling that she understands that her body looks best when she reaches for something this way or puts that there that way. She is constantly aware of her body, as if a camera lens is always aimed in her direction...Even when she is retrieving a soda from a vending machine.

He watched her board the flight. He was dazzled by her smile. He caught himself thinking about what it would be like for her daughter to grow up in that statuesque shadow. In fact, Adam was so taken my Elle and her daughter's future that he penned the lyrics for Stacy's Mom while in flight. The band went into the recording studio and the rest is, as they say, a platinum record.

I won't swear this is the way that it really happened, but this is the way that I like to think it happened and it is far superior to the way that I was told it happened. Interestingly, I find that it is a very appropriate story to tell during the holidays when so many stories are told. We can't swear that they happened the way that the story tells us they happened, but in our heart of hearts, it is the way we hope that they happened.

I'm in love with "Stacy's Mom"

Fountains of Wayne's song Stacy's Mom is running through my head. It is one of those songs that I think about when I need to "strut." It is an ego boosting song. Enter self-talk, "That's right! I've got IT goin' on."

Of course, I change the name of the girl to Number One Daughter and off I go. Self-talk is cheap, usually, and distructive, too. BUT sometimes I really challenge it and when I do that...

Honey, I GOT IT GOING ON!!!! Ahahhahahahahahahahahahaha This is MY house. ahahhahaha Use it! BE it! FEEL it! BELIEVE it! It transforms my day from ho-hum to OH YEAH.

Stacy's mom, has got it going on
Stacy's mom, has got it going on
Stacy's mom, has got it going on
Stacy's mom, has got it going on
Stacy can I come over
After school (after school)
We can hang around by the pool (hang by the pool)
Did your mom get back
from her business trip (business trip)
Is she there?
Or is she tryin to give me the slip (give me the slip)
You know I'm not the little boy that I used to be
I'm all grown up
Now baby can't you see!?

Stacy's mom, has got it going on
She's all I want, and I've waited for so long
Stacy can't ya see?
you're just not the girl for me
I know it might be wrong but,
I'm in love with Stacy's mom

Stacy's mom, has got it going on
Stacy's mom, has got it going on

Stacy do you remember
when I mowed your lawn (mowed your lawn)
Your mom came out
With just a towel on (towel on)
I could tell she liked me
From the way she stared (way she stared)
And the way she said
"you missed a spot over there" (spot over there)
And I know that you think its just a fantasy
But since your dad walked out
your mom could use a guy like me

Stacy's mom, has got it going on

She's all I want and
I've waited for so long
Stacy can't ya see?
You're just not the girl for me
I know it may be wrong but,
I'm in love with Stacy's mom

Stacy's mom has got it going on (shes got it going on)

She's all I want and
I've waited for so long
Stacy can't ya see,
You're just not the girl for me
I know it might be wrong,

I'm in love with-Stacy's mom, ah-oh-ah-oh
I'm in love with-Stacy's mom, ah-oh-ah-oh

Wait a minute
Stacy can't ya see?
You're just not the girl for me
I know it might be wrong but
I'm in love with Stacy's mom

Protect a child

Is he real? Does he exist? These questions are not being asked in my home this year, but I know that it is coming. It is years away, but it is out there lurking.

Once my dad told me that my son didn't believe in him anymore. I knew that. My dad thought that 18 yr old continued to "believe" because it got him more gifts on Christmas morning.

But I surprised my dad when I said, "I know he doesn't believe anymore, but Santa will always visit my home." It is the truth and you know why? Because I still believe. I'm not kidding. I do. I believe in Santa. He is as real and necessary as breathing.

When the questions come about Santa and they most assuredly will, I will tell my children, "Yes. Yes, Santa is real." He walked this Earth giving to children...Honoring children...Protecting children. Oh! To have known the real St. Nicholas. A man so true to children that he endured years in prison because he was thought to be a spy.

St. Nick lived the spirit of the season every day. When he died, I think that he called on every able bodied person to carry out his work. So parents took up the fight, so to speak.

St. Nick was a religious man. He knew and believed in Jesus. Maybe that is why children were so important to him. Jesus said, "Let them come." To me, Jesus and Santa are intertwined; most believe that they are separate. Yet, to me they believed the same thing: children are most important.

If everyone lived that...Really believed that children are most important of all, well there wouldn't be anymore wars...And famine would not be tolerated...And child abuse would be abolished because no one would stand silently by while a child was abused. It could happen, but we have to make up our minds that it is worth the fight.

We need to realize that silence is not an option. Do you have a neighbor who yells unmercifully at their child? Have you ever said anything about it? I do. You may think that it is none of my business; however, if St. Nick had thought that it wasn't his business we wouldn't have Christmas at all.

Protect a child. If you see a child in need, reach out. Children do not have voices when they are being harmed. It is up to us to provide the voice. I hope that my children never have to spend a dime on therapy because a traumatic event stole their voice. That is my wish for the New Year: no child's voice will be lost to trauma. Oh, I know it is a weighty wish, but it could happen.

The tears welled up in my eyes

Today was my birthday. I spent it at the hospital-undergoing tests. I am not sad or upset or anything. It was a nice day after the testing.

We picked up the kids from school. Then we went to an early dinner at my favorite Chinese restaurant. Yummy-that's all I have to say.

We arrived home and Number One Daughter ran into her room yelling, "presents!!" Then she brought me a gift wrapped in a coloring book page of My Little Pony. It was violet-my favorite color, so it was extra special. Inside were two hand-drawn figures. One a gingerbread daddy and the other a gingerbread mommy. There was also a picture of a cake with heart sprinkles and a box with heart shapes on it. And a very humbling gift completed the package: one of her necklaces.

Oh! What a bounty. Little Big Boy thought it must be time to unwrap the gifts that are under the tree, so when we weren't looking, he started to bring them upstairs. We convinced him that they were for Christmas and he marched them back downstairs.

Number One Daughter took him into their bedroom to draw cards and now Little Big Boy doesn't feel left out.

G's birthday was the fourth. I gave him a print from Breakfast at Tiffany's. I have told G that he looks like a young George Peppard. We love that movie and the kiss at the end is the print that I gave him. It is a small token of the love that I have for him. I gave him a black and white print, but it is of the scene herein.

These last three years, he has earned a living while I stayed home with Little Big Boy. All the while, he has also been going to college again. He is on his way to a second degree. He does this without a word of complaint. He works third shift and goes to school days.

More than that...as I have become almost home-bound, he also runs the kids to and from school, to doctor appointments and grocery shopping. He is an amazing man.

Then to top the whole birthday off, my daughter came to me and told me that her class is gathering "gently used" toys and books to give to children who don't have any. She brought with her one of her Barbie dolls...not the ones with hair that is cut off...not the ones that she has had for too long...no...she brought me one of her "princess" Barbies. She offered it to me and she said, "I don't care very much for her anymore....someone who doesn't have any dolls will care for her a lot."

I told her that God is looking down on her and smiling with a tear in his eye. I said to her that he is up there with all of the good angels and he is pointing down at you and saying, "Look! Look, there." And he is so proud...then the tears welled up in my eyes and I told her that I am proud of her, too. She has the real spirit of the holiday in her soul.

How blessed am I? All the way up to the sky!

A holiday to remember

I expected to have a lonely Thanksgiving. I expected to be disappointed, too. I wasn't setting the bar very high in expectations this year.

After kicking 18 Year Old out of the house almost eight weeks ago, I just wanted to bury my head in the sand. Circle the wagons-that is my survival technique. It appeared that He wouldn't be coming over for the holiday. I invited him weeks before.

Then on Thanksgiving Eve, I decided to drop the "pride" and I called him. I reinvited him over and the delight and excitement in his voice rings in my ears as I type. He said he would arrive around three, so I knew to plan to eat at four. He is perpetually late.

Lo and behold! He called for a ride at two o'clock. We weren't even dressed. hahahahahaha. I was so busy in the kitchen, that I hadn't thought about showering or dressing yet!

The turkey was done one hour early. I lamented, "It's not time to eat yet!" Then Little Big Boy yelled incredulously, "You mean we don't get to have a FEAST????" Well, I had to laugh.

I think he called it a feast because Number One Daughter was telling us the story of the great first feast of Thanksgiving. It was interesting to listen to all the details that she had absorbed. She has her daddy's brain and ability to retain a lot of information. She loves school and that in itself is a wonderful blessing.

The side dishes weren't ready until four, but everything tasted wonderful. I am a great cook. It was a survival skill that I learned-my mother's specialties were good, but there are things that I learned to like only if they are charred. Not charred on the grill; charred like-close to flames. In my mom's defense, her roast beef with all of the trimmings can't be beat and to this day, I prefer her beans and tortillas to my own. Her Thanksgiving spread is hard to beat, too. I have never been able to make her stuffing from scratch, but this year's was close:)

All in all, I think that everything tasted so great because our little family was together. Just the five of us. It was a wonderful holiday and it will go down in the books as one of the ten most memorable. The year that my oldest came home for the first time. Yes, it was a landmark event.

Eighteen Year Old doesn't want to come home to live-he likes his freedom out there. No rules. No rush. There are things that I want to tell him-like: you are living WITH another family-you MUST find a job! But I have tried that, so I repeat to myself the good ol' Dr. Phil line, "How's that workin' for ya?" and I leave him alone. He wants to make his own way.

I know it is wrong for him to live in their home without a job. I know this, but maybe he needs to figure this out for himself. I asked him if he wanted to come home and he doesn't. He likes the "no rules" mentality, but he will discover that everyone has rules-EVERYONE.

But on Thanksgiving, I was simply glad to have him near. He was helpful and considerate. I could barely walk by the end of the preparations and he carried things for me without my asking. Well that's a bit of an embellishment, but that is how I want to remember it. In short this Thanksgiving was magical.

Deleting the inbox

xxyztmf

ssdurfk

ckdstyr

I find myself trying to pronounce the word verifications when I comment. If the word sounds interesting, I try to come up with a definition for it.

I know that it is necessary-who ever thought someone would spend their time learning to "spam" blogs? For that matter, who ever thought anyone would send such filth in the form of spam to email addresses? Surely there are better ways to spend time than to create disgusting messages.

I terminated my personal email address because of the pornography that was finding its way into my inbox. No matter what setting I used or the rules I created to fight them, they still ended up in my inbox. I would delete one and then five others of the same sick graphic rolled in, so I erased my inbox.

Isn't it sad that people spend precious time figuring out how to "out smart" email rules? Then the heathens are hired by the likes of Microsoft so that they can stay on top of viruses. So who is winning here?

There is so much in this world to be done. So many wonderful things that need doing. Oh to be so smart and to use that ability for good-kind of like a capeless super hero. Yes! I want to be a super-like The Incredibles. And my super power would be to reach through the screen and throttle the person who is sending filth via email. Deep breath. I feel better already.

A paper clip to remember

One paper clip for every victim of the Holocaust. Six Million Jews. Five Million others-exterminated by the Nazis in Germany. Eleven million people killed in total because a crazy man had an idea that their lives would "contaminate" the rest of the world.

The Paper Clip Project is complete, but it is not over-not by a long shot. Paper clips were gathered and sent from all corners of the world. One suitcase of paper clips was prepared by a group of German students who wrote letters of apology and requests for forgiveness from Anne Frank.

I watched the documentary: Paper Clips, now showing on HBO. It changed me. It moved me. It made me think. Imagine being one of the eighth graders involved in bringing this project to life. You will discover why paper clips were selected as the symbol of remembrance and you will learn the meaning of the butterfly paintings and the butterfly sculpture that is near the museum.

Eleven million paper clips are stored in a genuine rail car that housed Jews on their way to the concentration camps. Survivors stories and moving letters from their families are read. I encourage you to watch it.

Prejudice is alive and well and it sickens me. If you watch this documentary, it will show you what the residents and students of a small Southern town did to understand the weight and cost of prejudice. More importantly, it will show you what prejudices live in you and how you can change it.

I am forever changed by this documentary and the Paper clip project. The students and community of Whitwell, Tennessee took an amazing journey and you can go for the ride. Again, it changed and enlightened me and I know you will be too.

Turkey, trimmings and tidings of joy

G is working part of the holiday, so we are lying low. Just us. I like it when it is "just us." It takes a lot of the anxiety out of the equation.

Granted there are so many "issues" that crop up when we do this. His family lives in town and they all go to his parents' house for the holidays. I should say that they "converge" on his parents' house. His mother's family is large, as is his father's family, but it is his mother's family that gathers for all of the holidays. They celebrate everything.

It causes hurt feelings when we do not go, but that is not the intention. Sometimes, I like a more intimate celebration. I grew up with just the four of us kids and mom and dad at holidays. It is comfortable when it is a small number. No competition during discussions. Less stress. Most of all I like an intimate celebration because you can focus on the people who make your life better every day in wonderful ways.

So this Thanksgiving, I'm grateful to have time with my husband and children. I invited P. I told him the offer was good until 9 p.m. on Thankgiving. He didn't know what his plans were and I doubt that he will come, but the invitation is out there. I am going to gather my family around me and enjoy their company. This holiday is just for us.

So from our peaceful celebration to yours-even if yours isn't;) Happy Thanksgiving. Enjoy everyone and everything. Don't forget to taste the life!

http://wandascountryhome.com/autumnsharvest/

Happy Thanksgiving

Holiday blessings to all and to all an elastic waist band:)

Dusting of snow

Early this morning, we had our second dusting of snow.

"Reality's" gray line

When I was 18, our family doctor told me, "You need to learn to relax." I have never accomplished that goal. Never. I cannot recall any day in my life when my body wasn't "on guard."

It is a result of a gpa who trolled the hallways at night. And it is also the result of being bashed upside the head or kicked or whatever that P's father would feel up to. I used to think that they were separate things, but they are actually related. Gpa T taught me what to expect when it came to men.

I read somewhere or heard somewhere-I think both-that if you want to be a writer, you should not write about incest or abuse. Let me rephrase that, if you want to be a successful writer you shouldn't write about incest or domestic violence or date rape.

Does that mean that once taboo topics have yet again numbed society to the depth of the pain inflicted on survivors of abuse of any kind? I find that interesting. What is that show? The one where people eat bugs and other deplorable and disgusting things-yes, "Fear Factor." You-not you, you, the "royal" you-You mean to tell me that people would rather watch this disgusting excuse for entertainment than hear another true story of abuse?

Rather than spend money on ridiculous fodder as so called "reality" t.v., that money could go to Ethiopian families who have to place children in orphanages because they cannot feed them properly. See this month's issue of Good Housekeeping for the story of two such children. They are now flourishing with their adoptive family in the United States.

That is reality. So the "Survivors, Fair Brady, Bonaduce, Tommy Lee-gag-he is a batterer" are consuming resources and apparently enough viewer brain cells to keep them going. To what purpose? What good is being served?

No-television was not invented to serve a "greater purpose." It was invented to entertain. So called "reality television" is not entertainment-it is exploitation.

Somewhere along the line...think NYPD Blue, which was supposed to be so daring, made it okay for words like, "slut. bitch. bastard", etc. to be uttered during prime time. That isn't entertainment either. Last night and the night before, I watched reruns of Friends and the Gilmore Girls...I like them both, but Lorelei uttered the word, "slut" and it rolled off of her tongue so easily in the seven o'clock central time slot that I just stared at the screen. Yes, they have the little viewer rating on the upper left hand corner, but last time I checked, I was not 14. I cannot recall the words that were uttered on Friends, but there are many words uttered on that show.

I only just began to watch Gilmore Girls again. It was a show that I always liked, but just stopped watching. Maybe it was the language that made me turn off the t.v. set in the first place.

Using this "language" is not okay. It is not freedom of speech. It is carelessness. It is laziness. A great man once said that using vulgar language is actually laziness. It is a crutch. You are not asking your brain to define what you are feeling, you just insert an expletive.

I suppose part of the reason that I am opposed to this language is that when I think of the trolls that I have known...the ones who stole innocence from me, I think of things that are lost. This language is stealing the innocence of our children. They have become numb to its vulgarity. I am hyper-sensitive to the potential loss of innocence, you could say, but you cannot deny that I can recognize loss of innocence when I see it.

Please vote for this 8 year old!

Zach is such a cute young philanthropist. Since he was six years old, he has raised thousands of dollars for children who have met with unfortunate circumstances. He has met and used to post on Ro's blog. Anyway, he has been nominated for an award at PBS. Please follow this link and vote for his foundation. And if you can email the link and/or post it on your blog, too, well, that would not only be awesome, but a blessing. This little guy pays it forward every day;)

It is the "Be More Awards". You can vote for his foundation under the alphabetical link below. The name to vote for is: Little Red Wagon Foundation

http://www.wedu.org/site/apps/fc/form.asp?c=adJFLKNjGiF&b=1187097

He is deserving and very humble. Thank you and God bless. I pray that he wins this award because he most assuredly deserves recognition.

"Days" rant

My husband has been a Days of our Lives fan for most of his life. He and his buddies would watch it during lunch in high school.

I hate soaps because I was addicted to One Life to Live when I was in school. They are addicting and that is that. I stopped watching them for over 15 years for that very reason.

But, you marry a soap addicted man and you get roped back in. Now Days is just another soap in my mind. Marlena possessed was probably the worst of it all-until now that is.

Jack is planning to kill himself. I am so angry with this story line. The writers and actors could have taken the high road and used this as an opportunity to educate about suicide and the realities of it. Instead, Jack is flippant about his suicide plan. And he has accomplices!

Enter Billy-he asked her to help him commit suicide. And she turned him down and left the house. Again, the portrayal could have been helpful, poignant, even, but the writers and actors are treating it with no real knowledge of the toll and emotional turmoil that is present in a suicidal person.

My Number One Daughter's Godfather, killed himself when he was 29. Forever 29. He wasn't able to find a reason to live. G and I knew that he was suicidal; he called us one afternoon in tears. He had followed his dream and become an FBI agent. He was living in KC and telling us that he was living his dream. But it was the things that he wasn't saying that I wonder about now.

When he called us, we made him lock up his service revolver and go to the emergency room. The doctor said it wasn't "classic" depression. No meds were prescribed. He got on with his life for a while. He volunteered as a mentor in a program that taught people to read. He was working on cases that excited him.

In retrospect, that time lasted less than one year. All too soon, we got the call. He didn't arrive at work one morning, so agents were dispatched to check it out. They found him shot to death in his bedroom.

Then there is Kaitlen. Forever 16. Both of her parents killed themselves. Her mother shot herself to death in front of Kaitlen. Two days later, Kaitlen was found cradling her mother in her arms. They had to pry her fingers off of her mother's body. Kaitlen was in shock. Less than two years later, Kaitlen killed herself. And I miss her so much. There is such a heart wrenching story that is or rather, was Kaitlen's life. We talked about adopting her. I tried so hard to help her. She was in the hospital when she completed suicide. Bless her heart.

This is suicide. It is forever. There is no taking it back. It is painful to the family and friends and it leaves a trail of unanswered questions. Not a day goes by that my heart doesn't think of one or the other or them. I miss them very much. In the end, only a suicidal person can decide whether or not life is worth the fight, but how I wish that I had done more.

Suicide is NOT what is happening on Days. Stupidity, yes. I refuse to watch it. I beg of you to not watch it or to write to the program and tell them how irresponsibly they are portraying suicide. They are making it look like an easy decision and act. It is not. It is in a word: devastating.

If you or anyone you know is thinking about suicide, get help immediately. The best thing to do is ask them if they have a plan. If they do, get them to the emergency room immediately. If you are the one thinking about suicide, I beg you to think of this:

Someone will have to identify your body. Suicide is a permanent solution to a TEMPORARY problem. Suicide is forever. Your friends and family will survive your suicide and it will cause great anguish and pain. Don't do it. Call a crisis line. Call your best friend. Call your mother. Call someone and talk it out. Visit this website for more information on suicide prevention and education: http://www.save.org/

I love you Mike and Kaitlen.

Judging Abby's mommy

Number One Daughter is heartbroken, but not as heartbroken as Abby and her mommy.

• Abby is a child in Number One Daughter's class at school.
• Abby is six.
• Abby is in the first grade.
• Abby has one brother and one sister.
• Abby has to go to a new school.

Abby's last day in Number One Daughter's class was yesterday. Everyone in the class made a card for Abby. Number One Daughter said that her card said, "I love you." on the outside.

Abby, her brother and sister have been removed from their mother's care. Number One Daughter told me the story through her eyes this morning. And my eyes are still moist with tears.

"Abby has to live with her grandma and go to a new school on Monday. Her mom has to get a job before Abby can live with her again. And Abby was crying and I kept doing this," Number One Daughter demonstrated crying up to the sky. Then she continued, "Everybody made a card for her and she made a card for everybody. I like Abby."

If you are a Judging Amy fan, you will be thinking about Maxine Gray and DCF and court and the removal of children from their parents. It is a blessing that Abby's grandma can take them in...That she is willing and able to take in her grandchildren.

I wonder about Abby's mom. Is she the victim of circumstance? Is she unable to find a job? Can she not afford daycare? What is it in Abby's life that caused this ripping apart of a family? How I wish that I had known. How I wish that I could have helped.

I want to believe that Abby's mommy has hit bad times and that this one an injustice. I want to believe that she will find a job and be able to get her children back soon. I don't want to think about addictions and all that.

And all of a sudden it occurs to me that I don't know at all whether or not Abby's mom is moving in with her mother, too. Was this a court thing? Or was it circumstance and necessity? Did a marriage fail and now a stay at home mom is running home for comfort and support and care? I have no idea why I was so quick to jump to the conclusion that Abby was actually removed from her mom's custody. And I am shamed by it.

"You can also call her Abigail," Number One Daughter explained, "but I like 'Abby' best. It is short and pretty."

"It won't take a long time for her mom to find a job," Number One Daughter said later. Then she goes off to watch a video or play with Little Big Boy. She keeps flitting in and out of my presence bestowing little bits of her sorrow on my lap. Her mind continues to work the problem and try to make sense of it. Each time she comes in my room, I wonder if she is going to ask me the question. The one question that I wonder if she is worrying about.

Then it comes with a serious face and wrinkled brow: "Mommy, will I have to go live with Grandma. You don't have a job." Ah, I tell her, I have the BEST job; my job is taking care of you. And she flits back out with a skip and peace reigns in her world again.

"I miss Abby," she tells me. Yes, Honey, I know that you miss her. The best thing that you can do for her is to pray that she gets everything that she needs at her grandma's house. Let's pray for her together. And we do. Then silently, I pray that Abby and her family will be able to get on their feet and be reunited it they are separated or find the courage to overcome these difficult times, regardless of circumstances.

And I end my prayer with a plea that God give her a friend who will love her as much as Number One Daughter does.

Children CAN protect themselves

I am a survivor. I survived childhood sexual abuse. I survived date rape. I survived domestic violence.

More importantly, I broke the cycle of abuse and try to teach my children to protect themselves. Little did I know that I was going about it wrong! Wow...I mean, I thought that as a survivor of childhood sexual abuse, I am especially aware of what needs to be told and how to prevent abuse. I am not.

If you think about it, a survivor is hyper-sensitive in the first place, so it stands to reason that I would over-react to such a threat. It is so obvious, that I sit here wondering why I never considered it before. Yet, I just realized why I am so controlling: I don't want harm to come to my family and I will do anything to protect them. So far that has included alienating a lot of people, including doctors and their assistants. In my mind, if the doctor or assistant can't help my child NOW, then they are harming them. Crazy thought, but very real panic issue for me. And it has taken me a long time to make this realization.

Today, I received a newsletter from the Polly Klaas Foundation (find the link to the Polly Klaas Foundation on the left-hand gutter under "B the Cure"). She was a child abducted, sexually abused and then murdered. In the newsletter, there were links to articles about teaching children how to protect themselves from sexual abuse and abduction. The material is well written and it addresses the possibility of sexual childhood abuse without discussing specifically what could happen. It gives a child tools and vocabulary and PERMISSION to tell on someone who has tried to touch them inappropriately or harm them in some other way.

I present this information here because I lived through sexual abuse, but it still affects my life today in ways that I am only beginning to recognize. Believe me, I have been trying to overcome the abuse in my life for 26 years. So, I am telling you the best way to protect your children is to teach them to protect themselves. This investment in empowerment will save your children a lifetime of pain and choices based on the lowest self-esteem imaginable.

Here is the information that you can use to protect your children:

Child Sexual Abuse: the Hidden Epidemic
By Sherryll Kraizer, Ph.D., Coalition for Children

While abduction by a stranger is one of the most terrifying things for a parent to think about, children are actually far more vulnerable to abuse by people known to the family and community. Child abuse occurs when an adult causes, or threatens to cause, emotional, physical or sexual harm to a child. Child abuse includes physical, sexual, and emotional abuse.

Parents should know that:

1. 85 to 90% of all abuse occurs at the hands of someone known to the child, someone in a position of trust.
2. About one in every four children will be sexually abused by the age of eighteen.
3. Most sexual abuse involves no outwardly visible physical damage to the child.
4. The damage comes from the physical and emotional violation of the child, and the violation of a trusted relationship. These can be more long-lasting than physical injury.
5. Most abusers are family, friends, and neighbors, someone the child knows and trusts.
6. Parents, schools and organizations may use all of the avoidance technology at their disposal against strangers, yet experience tells us that they are almost always surprised to discover perpetrators in their midst.
7. Parents obviously donÂ’t leave their children in the care of people they believe to be perpetrators, but the facts tell us that parents must be prepared for such an event.

A Child's Best Defense
The best way to prevent abuse when the parent or care-taking adult is not present is to provide children with the skills they need to help protect themselves. The essential prevention of child abuse skills can be taught without talking about abuse. Children donÂ’t need to be told what abuse is, who the offenders are, how they operate, what they do, or why. They donÂ’t need to be told that the people they love might hurt them. Rather, prevention is learned through positive and concrete messages that give children the skills they need to act effectively on their own behalf when they are in potentially abusive situations.

The reality is that there are times when children can and must be responsible for their own well-being, such as when they are alone with a potential abuser. At such times, they need permission to speak up. They need specific skills and techniques to stop what's being done to them. And, they must know they will be believed and supported by the adults in their lives. The best overall defense children have against abuse is:

• A sense of their own natural abilities,
• The ability to accurately assess and handle a variety of situations,
• Knowing where and how to get heland Knowinging they will be believed.

Prevention of sexual abuse training begins with children's natural abilities, what they already know, and the experiences they've already had. The positive and concrete fundamental messages in prevention of child abuse by people known to the child include:

1. Your body belongs to you.
2. You have a right to say who touches you and how.
3. If someone touches you in a way you don't like, in a way that makes you feel funny or uncomfortable inside, or in a way that you think is wrong or your parents would think is wrong, it's okay to say "no."
4. If the person doesn't stop, say, "I'm going to tell" and then tell, no matter what.
5. If you're asked to keep a secret, say, "No, I'm going to tell."
6. If you have a problem, keep talking about it until someone helps you.

Children learn that they can have more control over what happens to their bodies when we teach them, and when we show them through our own behavior, that their bodies do indeed belong to them. Children as young as two and three already know what touch they like and what touch they don't like. Touching they don't like makes them feel uneasy and may seem wrong to them. The Safe Child approach to prevention simply gives them permission to speak up. It teaches them how to speak up effectively and in a way that is appropriate.

Prevention of child abuse techniques must be learned not just as ideas, but as real skills. Proven classroom programs for children and follow-through by parents are the best way to learn these skills. This means practice. Part of effective prevention education includes role-play, giving children an opportunity to see how it feels to say "no" in a difficult situation.

Just as children don't learn to ride a bicycle by talking or reading about bicycling, children don't learn to prevent child abuse without opportunities to work with the techniques, to practice and feel comfortable with the skills. Role-play, practicing and parental reinforcement are the keys to teaching children to protect themselves when adults are not there to protect them.

How to Respond if a Child Tells You About Abuse:

The trauma of a child reporting abuse is very real. If this happens, the first concern is to remain calm and supportive of the child. Give the child an opportunity to tell you in his or her own way what happened. Donover-reactact or criticize the child in any way.

THE CHILD NEEDS TO BE TOLD:

1. That you believe him/her and you're glad s/he told you.
2. That s/he didn't do anything wrong.
3. That you will do your best to see that s/he is not hurt again and you will make every effort to get help.
   

Do not promise the child that you will do anything specific. You may not be able to keep that promise. Children who report sexual or physical abuse need to be examined by a doctor. Make the child a part of the process. If possible find a physician the child knows or one who is particularly experienced in abuse cases. REMEMBER: Almost without exception children do not lie about abuse, except to deny that it happened. REMEMBER ALSO: The trauma of abuse is long-term and not always apparent. When a child reports being abused, the process of recovery begins. The next step is to report the abuse and begin the process of treatment for the child.

Reporting Suspected Child Abuse or Neglect.

The decision to report suspected abuse is almost always difficult. Remember that 85-90% of all sexual abuse and virtually all physical and emotional abuse involve someone known to the child. This means that the offender is usually known to the community. Interpersonal relationships and community considerations frequently bring hesitation to report. At these times, it is important to remember that the TOTAL responsibility for the offense lies with the offender. Reporting protects the child and may protect other children from becoming or continuing to be victims of abuse. A person who reports suspected abuse is not responsible for ruining the offender's life. The person who has the courage and takes the responsibility to report is saving a child as well as future victims.

ANYONE may report a suspected case of child abuse or child maltreatment. It is important to know that the law does not require certainty before reporting and that you have no responsibility to investigate or to try to gather more information yourself. Any suspected case should be reported. Reporting suspected abuse or maltreatment does not make a person legally liable, however there may be penalties for failure to report. The law protects any person, official, or institution that makes a report in good faith (meaning an honest belief that a child is being abused) by providing immunity from any liability, civil or criminal, that might otherwise result from such actions. While reporting child abuse can be difficult, all of us have an obligation to act on behalf of all children. If we do not act, who will? The National toll-free number to report suspected abuse is 1-800-4ACHILD at www.childhelpUSA.org .

THE COALITION FOR CHILDREN The Coalition for Children is a not-for-profit organization, founded in 1983, which is committed to creating and providing positive and effective prevention programs for children and families. The Coalition is not a group; rather it acts as a catalyst, bringing together individuals and organizations for specific projects and community action. To learn more, please visit: www.safechild.org.

When u wish upon a star...

make sure you are wishing on the right star. This is by far my favorite time of the year...patience, courtesy and generosity abound. There is so much going on in everyone's lives, but they set it aside and treat people better than ever.

It has been a long time since I found words for a post-even now, I choose to set aside my worries and concerns and ask you to support the hungry.

On the left hand gutter, you will find a category of B the Cure; please follow the link and click to feed the hungry. It is free and you can click every day.

In 1984, Bob Geldolf had a vision to hold a concert to Feed the World; twenty-one years later, Live-8 rocked the world because the job still isn't being done. This season, maybe you can buy one less toy that will make its way to the back of the closet and donate the money to your local food bank.

Another option is to approach organizations like St. Vincent de Paul and offer to sponsor a family for Thanksgiving or Christmas. You provide a complete meal for a family or a staples and holiday gifts for the family.

This year give the greatest gifts to those who need nessities. It will change their lives...and yours, too.

God bless you and yours this holiday season.