Measuring Men

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

Busted!

My heart is heavy tonight:

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

Lucky Seven

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

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

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

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

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

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

Heart

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

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

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

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

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

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

Adoption Outrage

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

Gates of Heaven

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

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

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

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

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

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

My husband is a great man.

Holy Cow, Batman

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

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

Bless Us With Peace

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

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

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

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

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

Airman First Class William Hart Pitsenbarger

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

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

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

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

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

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

Group Therapy

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

Full circle

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

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

Little Women

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

The golden hour

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

DANCE!!!

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

ENJOY. LOL.
Renee

Mutha's Day

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

This and that...Again...

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

Musing

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

Happy Mother's Day.

I left

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

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

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

Vulnerability

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

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

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

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

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

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

Ten

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

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