"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.

Balance

What a week. It's been good, but I am exhausted. Thoroughly. It is a nice feeling.

I miss being home with Little Big Boy, but it is good that he has one on one time with G, too. Things are hectic yet with trying to balance getting everyone where they need to be; G is handling the brunt of the juggling-he is a master at it really.

When I was in high school I penned a poem-okay, I penned many, many poems, but this particular one was about hiding myself from the world. I went deep inside myself and stayed for a long time. Then came the time when I was ready to begin the long journey back up.

I sometimes wonder what my life would have been like without abuse, but more and more I have realized that if anything had been different, that it wouldn't be my life at all. I think that is what you call "acceptance." Instead of looking at the abusers in my life and feeling like they had stolen it, I can see that my life is just my life.

It has taken me many years to arrive at this insight. Twenty years of therapy-off and on, but therapy nonetheless. It is as if I suddenly realized the truth in the statement that I was not a bad girl. Those men did bad things, but they didn't do bad things because I was bad-they did bad things because THEY were bad.

The concept is very simple. It is easy to say it, too. It's not the victim's fault. The thing is that you have to believe it for it to be true. And to arrive at it being true means that you embark on a journey of self-acceptance.

When I was a little girl, one of my uncles walked into a room while his father was molesting me. The uncle said, "You deserve it." For many years, that was the loop that ran inside my brain. I think although I didn't knowingly buy into the accusation, that on some level I believed that I must have done something to deserve the abuse. Years later, after being battered, 18 year old's father told me, "Look what you made me do."

When I first launched my blog, I think that I was going to use it as a place for creative writing, but it actually evolved into a place where I could blossom and flourish. Many of the blogs that I read were discovered at Rosie's blog. Little does she know how much of a catalyst for healing that she has been.

When it comes right down to it, though, you have to inspire yourself to heal yourself. Acceptance is balance. I'm learning to love the high-wire and the acrophobia is fading. Maybe the little girl in me is ready to take my hand and walk with me side by side and not hide behind my knees anymore. That is a journey that I have waited a lifetime for.

Whistle while you...

Wow! I was too pooped to visit the computer last night. I was too tired to cook...Too tired to clean...Too TIRED. It was a great feeling.

I am still in shock or awe or something about things falling into place so quickly. I was praying about this very much. I was so worried about whether or not it would work. I prayed very hard and nonstop.

The job was advertised as full-time, so we had to consider whether it would be worth my going back to work after so many years. I was worried about leaving my children with just anyone. It is always difficult to entrust my children's well being to someone else. We have the memory of "the yelling school."

When Number One Daughter was about two and a half, she began to dread going to daycare, which we called "school." She started to refer to it as "the yelling school." I went to pick her up one afternoon and sure enough the teacher in her section was yelling at children. Not just yelling; she was YELLING. She grabbed something out of a little girl's hand, too. I saw the whole thing.

I stood there and stared at her and asked her what she was doing. I stayed with that class until the little girl's parents arrived. The girl was crying and I told her mommy what had happened. Then I went to another teacher and told her what I had seen. I also told her to have the director call me. We never took Number One Daughter back to that place.

Well during the interview, I was told that they were going to try something different. They were making the position part time. It fits with G's work schedule! The children get to be with us: hooray! And hip, hip HOORAY!

I was exhausted yesterday after work. G brought dinner home before he went off to his job, so I didn't have to worry about cooking. I am still tired this morning, but it is a good tiredness. I am back out there and I survived it. Dare I say that I flourished out there? It is like riding a bicycle, I think.

The job is very low stress and busy enough that the day flies by. It is as if Jesus heard all of my prayers and tailored the job to fit all of my needs and pleas. I am so blessed. Very blessed indeed.

Golden

Number One Daughter has made a full recovery. Her appetite is back; she is a grazer and it is hard to find things that she likes to eat, but when she was in the hospital and for three or four days afterward, her appetite was nonexistant.

Four days after we brought her home, Little Big Boy fell on the stairs. It looked like something went through his cheek, so off to the ER he went. As it happens, there were two cuts one on the inside of his mouth and one on the outside. He was lucky. They were concerned that he had a concussion, but those worries were unfounded. That is it for us and the hospital!!
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I interviewed for the job at 10:00 a.m. on Friday. At 4:55 p.m., I got the call and offer. I start working on Monday. I did it! I survived the anxiety attacks and did well in the interview. It was a great interview. I feel so blessed.


Grace. Sportsmanship. Glory. Gold.

Shizuka Arakawa deserves the accolades. When we lived in Japan, I learned not only another culture, but another way of life. The Japanese are humble. Every where we went in 1969, we were greeted by curious people. They offered us their Japanese to English dictioneries while they pointed at a sentence. Usually the sentence read: You teach me English and I will teach you Japanese. We had weekly lessons where lots of college students came to our home for English lessons.

Once in a while two couples would come to our home. One husband spoke Spanish and Japanese and the other spoke English and Japanese. My mother is Mexican and speaks fluent Spanish. Oh! The afternoon long conversations that were had. It was an enchanting time in my life.

When great things happen for Japan, I am always so happy; it is as if I consider Japan my country away from my country. I am fortunate to remember our two years in Japan. My little sister was four through six, so she doesn't recall our trip and exposure to the wonderful culture.

When Arakawa was on the ice, you could feel her presence. She was amazing. I have enjoyed these Olympic games. It seems that not many others did. What a shame. Watching talented athletes is a great way to introduce children to different sports and cultures. I miss moving around like we did when I was a child. I would like to travel with my children-Wish I had been one of those workers at the meat processing plant! Nebraska? The lottery is an amazing thing-I do not play...You can't win if you don't play.

Interview & Olympics

I have an interview this morning. It has been a long time since I worked outside of the home. We need this. I think I want this, too. It would make everything much easier-except daycare. It is very difficult to decide whether or not it is financially sound to work full time. If the money is simply flying out the window to daycare, it isn't worth the sacrifice of time spent with my children.

I am lucky that I have a husband who supported my desire to stay home with Little Big Boy. He stayed home with Number One Daughter.

I know that quality daycare professionals are not paid well-That is awful because we entrust our most precious children to their care-They deserve every penny. The thing that is difficult is that it costs money to work outside the home.

I am praying that His will be done.
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My favorite moment in the Women's Olympic Figure Skating Free Skate was when the lovely Japanese skater realized that she in fact had won the Gold! I am so happy for Japan! Shizuka Arakawa performed an elegant free skate last night. This is Japan's first ever medal in figure skating and also their first medal of these games. It was a lovely program and her humbleness-so very characteristic of Japanese people was charming. I read that she said, "I don't realize I have the gold medal." It was charming to the tenth plus one.

Sasha, Emily and Irina fell to the ice and it was so hard to watch their hopes and dreams crash with them. I give them credit-They all got back up and finished nicely-Nailing the landings in subsequent jumps. They should be proud.

My second favorite moment from last night's telecast was when the Italian skater performed. She was so graceful and happy to represent her country. She was graceful and lovely. As soon as her music ended, the tears streamed down her face. She did her country proud.
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In a way, today is my own Olympics. Anyone who suffers from anxiety attacks will understand how hard it is for me to go out on this interview. I hope to conquer my anxiety-I have to for all of us. Today with butterflies in my tummy and a panic attack underway, I ask you to think good thoughts for me and send up a prayer that His will be done. Thank you and God's blessings.

Bitter Button...

It must be hard to be a two-time gold medalist. In fact, you must be in such great demand that you never get enough sleep. That is the sole reason that makes sense about Dick Button.

He sounds bitter. He sounds angry and it is impossible to enjoy figure skating with him spewing his drivel. I find him so offensive and in a poll of my family and friends, I am not alone.

I forget about Dick Button, but when the Winter Olympics roll around, I simply hope that NBC will have left this man behind. Why don't the NBC execs see his limitations and callousness? He has seen his day and it is time to get rid of him.

Scott Hamilton on the other hand is wonderful. I love the way he gets excited for the skater. It is so neat to listen to someone who loves the sport comment on the program being performed. He yells, "WHOA!" and it just makes me feel good.

Scott Hamilton watches the performance from the perspective of one who loves the sport. Button calls the shots from the position of "I am the king of all I survey." In other words, Button's over-blown ego is root of his bitter attitude.

Scott Hamilton is a pure joy to watch on the ice-his trademark back flip is highly entertaining. More than that, he is a man who faced his mortality repeatedly and keeps smiling. He is the epitome of a great performer.

So NBC, I am telling you can the man with the attitude. Button had his day on the podium and doesn't deserve the honor of commentating on the performances given by today's top figure skating athletes.

It is very sad to see someone so lost in his ability that he can no longer enjoy the sport. Most of all, it is sad to see NBC continue to employ this man who has long been a bore. Hand the mic to Scott Hamilton and turn Dick Button out to pasture. The smile in Scott's voice is far superior to anything that Button offers up.

No. 1 Daughter & Pediatric Ward

This morning after having been in the hospital since Tuesday afternoon, Number One Daughter was released. On Tuesday, we rushed her to the hospital with appendicitis. The pain in her right side was so blistering that she couldn't walk. As it happens, she ended up not needing surgery, but was in the hospital for four days.

Her white blood cell count was a toxic 23,000 and this morning it was back in the normal range at 9,500. I have many stories to tell of the stress, panic and not knowing what was wrong. They never did find out what the infection was. Apparently it was viral and not bacterial, but she is lying on my bed in my room eating fruit roll ups. She hadn't eaten for three days. Again, I have many stories to tell, but I am going to tell you two of them now:

On Thursday morning, we were hit with a huge winter storm. We have a ton of snow! We were in the hospital on the second floor in the pediatric wing. We had been in the hospital for two days and I never left from the moment that she was admitted. Number One Daughter's fever was spiking repeatedly until last night at midnight, but yesterday morning, it was 102.9 before they gave her Tylenol.

She was lethargic and was tired of being poked and prodded. Well, the snow was piling up and I pulled the Venetian blinds up and opened the window. Snow was blown into her hospital room by strong gusts. There wasn't a screen on the second floor window, so I turned my back to her and worked quickly. She was laughing because I was freezing and saying, "Oh! Brrrr. Brrrr Brrrr!" Then I turned around and presented her with her very own snowman. I made him out of the snow on the window and positioned him so that he was looking in the window at her. She smiled and we laughed about it for at least an hour and every time we looked at him. It was a blessing from God to hear her laughter again. And we had a little bit of fun in our room.

The snow storm continued barreling through. We had great flashes of lightening and thunder snow, too. It was a huge storm. In fact it was so strong and awful that the Sheriff's Department had to close the interstate for a while.

During the storm, Life Flight was called because a two week old was having trouble breathing. Ideally, the baby would have been transported to Children's Hospital in Milwaukee. The storm prevented the baby from being flown there. So they had to bring him to the hospital where we were.

We heard the helicopter land and they rushed the infant into the room directly across from ours. My parents had sent a teddy bear and multi-colored balloon with the message, "Get Well" on it. Number One Daughter was so moved by the baby's cries and his racking coughs. Our nurse came into our room and Number One Daughter said, "Would you take the Get Well balloon to the baby for me?" The nurse's face just melted as I assure you mine did. I do not know when I have felt such a rush of pride and love. The nurse took the balloon to the baby's room and we prayed for him many times over the course of the day and afternoon.

Today, Number One Daughter was able to see the baby boy very briefly as they rolled him away for tests. I took her over to meet the baby's mommy. She looked at me and I said this is my daughter, she gave you and your baby the balloon. The baby's mommy said, "Can I hug her?" And I said, "Of course!" The baby's mommy cried as she hugged Number One Daughter. I hugged the mommy afterwards and bestowed wishes for God's blessings on her son and her family.

The balloon was placed near the crib and the helium in it made it reach for the sky...A silent but very heartfelt plea and prayer from my six year old daughter to comfort and heal this baby. As we turned to leave their room, I told the mommy that God would be with her and her son. And as we walked out, I knew that God was patting Number One Daughter on the head for her compassion and big heart.

I am so exhausted from the worry, but look how blessed I am: My daughter walks in Jesus' footsteps each day. There is no greater joy.

The winner is...

What is the con-troversy? Chinese figure skating pair Dan Zhang and Hao Zhang went out there to perform their long program. They were going to attempt a throwing move that had never been performed in competition. Unfortunately this lithe beauty fell hard on her knees.

She got right up. Her tears and pain were obvious. She went back out on the ice and tested her knee. Trainers questioned whether or not she should attempt to finish the routine, but she was not to be denied. These after all are the Olympics-She as worked for this moment all of her life. This was their moment.

They took back to the ice and every lift...Every jump...Their footwork and grace were exemplary. This team deserved to medal.

Their performance reminded me of Carrie Strug's jump when her knee was injured. You could argue that Zhang wasn't as injured as Carrie was, but I would challenge you on it. Who is to say how much pain she felt? Her adrenaline kicked in and she "brought it." I couldn't be more proud, if they had been American skaters.

The heart that I witnessed last night brought me to tears. This. Yes THIS is what the Olympics are all about. Heart. Competition. Perseverance. I was so moved by Zhang and Zhang's performance that I watched it again at about 4:30 a.m. CST and I was moved to tears again.

The Olympics are a celebration of mind over body-sometimes. On a day when so many athletes had to be flown out of the competition and then they stated today that they are going to still try to compete-well that is what the Olympic spirit is all about.

I was treated to a pairs' figure skating performance that was worthy of a gold medal. Giant hearts from the land of giant pandas....It's all good.

Olympic egos

Little Big Boy has a double ear infection, so I'm glad that the snow storm missed us. We got a few inches of snow, but that is it. However, we are expecting a big storm tomorrow. I hope that we do get some good snow; we haven't had a good fall in years.

Two feet of snow creates a lot of issues, but it also makes for a lot of fun. Just google pictures for the 26 inches that NYC got. Beautiful.

I have been watching some of the Olympic coverage on NBC. I have a gripe:

I am so tired of people thinking that you have to talk during the event. Wouldn't you like to just enjoy a performance? It is as if the news personalities are bigger than the event that they are covering. I mean it is as if, the reporters have Olympic egos.

I noticed it at Coretta Scott Kings funeral, too. If they thought we would be bored by one of the eulogies, they would talk during the speech. I wanted to hear what people had to say.

Educating viewers is one thing, but to overtake the performance with chatter makes it impossible to enjoy something. I mute the sound often, but it detracts from the performance, too. The little tribute that they gave to Michelle Kwan last night was bookended by a conversation with the reporter and Bob Costas. They spent more time discussing and "setting up" the tribute than was given to the footage and tribute itself.

Sometimes, I just want to say, sit down; shut up. I think that they have forgotten how to find a balance. It's also evident in the way we are force fed things that we like. Remember when Who Wants to Win a Million Dollars was fun? Regis was great. Then they made the show several days per week and it was too much! I still cannot watch Regis-and I had been a fan since his days doing a morning show in Los Angeles.

They are force feeding us Dancing with the Stars, too. 90 minutes. 90 minutes one night and one hour called The Results the next night. Well, I didn't watch last week. I really like the show, but it is so full of "filler" that it is impossible to stay interested. I do not like the host, either. I didn't like that guy when he was the host of America's Funniest Videos.

We are force fed everything. How many versions of Law and Order and CSI do we really need? The interest in such shows would last longer if they weren't served up all week. Not to mention the availability of reruns.

Some where a long the line our intelligence was doubted, I think. I don't mind not knowing what the name of a trick or jump is. Rather, I do not want to try to learn it during a performance. Show me it in the weeks before the Olympics. I mean would you or I know if someone missed the forth rotation on a jump? Maybe we have to listen to it because people complained about not knowing the jumps, but now they provided far too much information.

I performed in an Olympic tournament. When we lived in Japan, I took judo lessons. I was one of three who demonstrated falls and rolls. It was a very cool experience. It took place before the fights. Back then, we didn't try to force feed things to our fans. (:)

Kwan's true grace

I have supported Michelle Kwan in her quest for gold each time that she has pursued it. It has eluded her. This year she was given a spot on the Olympic team even though she wasn't able to earn her way onto the team. At the time, I blogged that Emily Hughes should have been the one allowed to go to Torino.

By withdrawing from competition this early, Michelle Kwan leaves enough time for Emily Hughes to get up to speed.

I watched the footage of Michelle Kwan choking back sobs as she talked to her coach after she cut short her practice. It was heartbreaking. Michelle's struggles on the ice to achieve the pinnacle of her hard work hasn't been easy to watch. It is like watching Tai Babilonia and Randy Gardner. These things happen.

Michelle cemented her championship status by pulling out of the Olympics because her injury will not allow her to compete. By reaching this decision-under heartbreaking circumstances, yet again, I think she has won something here that is much better than gold. She displayed more grace off the ice than she can ever achieve on the ice and that is a lot of grace. In time, I hope that she sees it that way, too.

Matthew 10:28

For years I have suffered from anxiety. It is debilitating. I have spoken before of the recommendation of therapists that people who are depressed or suffer from anxiety are not supposed to listen to or read news or listen to evangelists; both accentuate the negative.

Since the events of September 11th, I have had a short circuit in my ability to deal with anxiety. I have talked about it in therapy. I have blogged it.

In actuality, my anxiety was made worse by the events of 9-11; it was actually born in my childhood because of my grandfather-the predator. I am always "on-guard" and had always been "on-guard" since I was about four years old. It is difficult to live in fear.

I watched coverage of Coretta Scott King's funeral. During the coverage, it was reported that Martin Luther King, Jr. Heard about JFK's assassination and turned to his wife and said, "That is going to happen to me." She looked at him and said, "I know."

They knew. They knew and yet kept going. They kept marching and peacefully protesting even though they knew that someone had him in their sights. After her husband was assassinated, Coretta Scott King said, "I will not live in fear." Then she went to Memphis to march with the sanitation workers.

Wouldn't we have understood, as President Clinton stated, if she hunkered down with her children and went about a quiet life after her husband was assassinated? Yes. We would have understood. Yet she didn't. She continued the fight...The march...The dream. She kept going. Not only to honor her husband, but to continue to pursue a better life for all races.

It is funny that I had to go back to reading the news to connect all of the dots. I "get it" now. I had been immersing myself in fear. I was actually trying to find out the worst case scenario so I would know what I needed to do to prepare for a terrorist attack or a pandemic or a fight like that which occurred on Flight 93 on Septemtber 11th.

I felt that I needed to know what could happen and in looking into all of the possibilities, I scared myself half to death....Almost literally. Now I realize that nothing in my life has changed. Some day we will all die-we cannot predict it or prepare for it. It will just happen-No matter what I do to prepare. We are after all mortal.

This has been a long and difficult journey for me. Little Big Boy was born six months after the World Trade Center was destroyed. At the time I wondered why we were bringing another life into being; it all felt so scary and frightful. But now I realize that the chance of death has always been there. I just forgot that. It was there before September 11th, too.

I have allowed myself to be immersed in the fear. Coretta Scott King was brave and her children were brave to carry on their father's message all these years...Knowing that someone could raise a gun to them, too. They defied the shooter(s) and thus thwarted the assassination. In spite of the assassination, the civil rights movement moved forth...Undaunted. That is what I wasn't able to see any more. I should just continue on toward the dream...The dream that hatred will be abolished...Right?

So now I can get back to living. Now I understand what it all is about.

Matthew 10:28

Do not fear those who can kill the body, but cannot kill the soul; rather fear him who can destroy both soul and body in hell.

A Heavenly reunion

Let freedom ring.

From the game to the slammer

Hooray for the Steelers:) I wanted them to win. After the game was over, I watched Cowher's three daughter's mob him and the joy on their faces was wonderful to see. Over the years, they had shed so many tears because their dad didn't win the big game.

I didn't watch the game; G had to work during the game and I didn't feel right watching it without him. I flipped to it three times to check the score and I watched the last five minutes and 44 seconds. It was wonderful. G was rooting for Holmgren's Seahawks-because in Packer country we still think highly of him; however, I wanted Cowher to take the win.
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David Spade is in the Capital One commercial that asks: What's in your wallet? Little Big Boy replies, "I don't have a wallet."
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Number One Daughter celebrated the 100th day of this school year on Thursday. She brought home her report card and had the highest marks in every class. This is worrisome. She is very bright, but a perfectionist, too. She came home from school one week ago and misspelled two words on a practice spelling test. She was so disappointed in herself. She said, "I used to get them all right." Then she dissolved into tears.

I explained to her that the reason that they make dictionaries is because no one can spell every word. I also said that I was glad that there is a book called a dictionary because I do not know how to spell a lot of words. Then we looked up some words together. She was smiling by the time we finished. G is very worried about her; he was so upset when she was crying. He said, "She's like me." and the pain in his eyes was as deep as the pain in her eyes. So I told him that I thought she'd be lucky to be like him. We talked about it for a while and in the end he was smiling too.

Perfectionism is a disease. We all have it. I hope we can exercise it before the kids judge their worth by it as a measure of their potential.
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Dateline NBC's To Catch a Predator III is to be applauded. They finally brought the police in on the sting. More accurately, they brought in the Riverside California Sheriff's Department. The sting netted 51 with 50 predators being arrested. From a rabbi to a Homeland Security Agent, this net cast a wide path into every socio-economic bracket and every race. It is alarming to see the jobs these predators held...Teachers...ER doctor...Actor...Sexual offenders.

What was most stunning was that some of them hung around when an actual arrest was being made. The men who just sat in their cars were arrested, too. There must be something that we can do to protect children from predators.

The best weapon that we have is to teach children the dangers of surfing the internet for friends. Helping our children create a support system complete with nurturing friendships is the best tool that we can offer.

I regret not going to the police about my mother's father...If only because he wouldn't have been able to harm any one else. Yet during the Dateline report, one of the predators had been prosecuted 20 years ago for molesting three children in one family. Yet here he was trying to do it again. He trolls for victims online.

When I was in high school, I knew of two teachers who were molesting teenage girls. One of them was reported to the police. He was suspended with pay. In the end, he was allowed to return to work because there wasn't enough evidence to convict him.

The other teacher bought air plane tickets for students to meet him in the Bahamas. He wasn't reported or found out. He was a science/chemistry teacher. The other one was a math teacher. They were given the benefit of the doubt back then. I wonder if it would be different now?

We have to teach our children about trolls because they do exist and they can be our neighbors. I did a sexual predator search in my zip code on one of the sites online. There are 20-some in this area. Blocks from my home. I had no idea. It is a very sobering realization.

I'm glad that Dateline has continued to pursue this story. If you haven't seen it yet, it is airing on MSNBC in reruns.