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.

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.