A holiday to remember

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

Deleting the inbox

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ssdurfk

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

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

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

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

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

A paper clip to remember

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

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

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

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

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

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

Turkey, trimmings and tidings of joy

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

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

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

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

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

http://wandascountryhome.com/autumnsharvest/

Happy Thanksgiving

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

Dusting of snow

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

"Reality's" gray line

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

Please vote for this 8 year old!

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

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

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

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

"Days" rant

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

I love you Mike and Kaitlen.

Judging Abby's mommy

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

Children CAN protect themselves

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

Parents should know that:

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

How to Respond if a Child Tells You About Abuse:

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

THE CHILD NEEDS TO BE TOLD:

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

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

Reporting Suspected Child Abuse or Neglect.

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

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

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

When u wish upon a star...

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

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

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

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

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

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

God bless you and yours this holiday season.

Sevens tag

Tagged by Chocolate Makes it Better;)

7 things I want to do before I die

1. Live in a warmer climate again
2. Take G and the kids to Japan
3. Show G the California Redwoods
4. Take my family to Disneyland in Anaheim
5. Establish a memorial scholarship fund in Mike's honor
6. Make peace with my past
7. Collect shells with Number One Daughter and Little Big Boy along the shore of the Pacific.

7 Things I Cannot Do

1. I have never learned how to relax.
2. Eat spicy fare-yes, I'm 50% Hispanic and cannot eat spicy food
3. Ignore suffering
4. Sit without fidgeting
5. Sleep all night
6. Recite the multiplication tables
7. Paint-I long to paint beautiful landscapes and portraits

7 Things That Attract me to the Opposite Sex

1. Eyes
2. Sincerity
3. Personality
4. Hairy chest
5. Smile
6. Chivalry
7. Confident stature

7 Things I say Most Often

1. No way, Jose
2. Yes way, Jose
3. Pretty please, Jose
4. I love you
5. Have a happy day
6. Actually
7. I love this/that song

7 Celebrity Crushes-not crushes, but I find these men have/had a lot of sex appeal

1. Dopey
2. Gregory Peck
3. Tom Hanks
4. George Peppard in Breakfast at Tiffany's; I despised the A Team and never watched it.
5. Ewan McGregor
6. Sean Connery
7. Cary Grant

I hate Halloween and other tales

I hate Halloween. There are enough boogie men in my world. Number One Daughter started to sing The Five Little Pumpkins and I joined in. The smile on her face was incredible. I told her that I sang that song in school, too. It is comforting to me that some things do not change. To borrow a line from Breakfast at Tiffany's, "it gives me hope...Continuity with our past." or something very close to those words. We might not be trick or treating. G has to work. His parents are going to D.C. for the weekend. Maybe we will trick or treat in another community on Sunday so Daddy can take part.

1. Little Big Boy doesn't want me to call him "Puppy" anymore. He didn't like us to call him anything else. He has grown up so fast. He loves school. He comes home from school and I ask, "How was school?" and he replies, "It was AWESOME!" He can't wear size threes anymore. Some fours aren't big enough. My Little Big Boy-the baby-is growing up too fast and walking out the door too quickly. It is happening right before my very eyes and I want to shout: Wait! Wait up. Alas, it is better to say: Go on. Go ahead. Enjoy.
2. Number One Daughter is having a tough time with Halloween. The "haunting" music has her in tears each night. Tonight I had her try singing Christmas carols while she tried to sleep. That didn't work and she asked if she could recite poems. SURE! That didn't work either. So I told her to turn on the hall light and sing Jingle Bells. Soon, minus the tears, she was sleeping peacefully.
3. Salsa just snuck outside with Pepper. Declawed cats, they darted out when I was letting Bessie out. I tried to coax them back in, but the cats just disappeared. Pepper sneaks our frequently. And for the first time ever, Salsa joined her. It was like a prison break-well planned and timed. I just know that Pepper has been telling Salsa all about "out there." Well, I left the light on and am worried sick, but I couldn't find them when I went outside. I will check one last time before I lock up for the night.
4. I am watching the Astros in the top of the 11th in the third game of the World Series. Two out. The score is tied 5-5. I do not like the Sox...But it appears that eight men out might be helping the nine men on the field. Every call has gone their way-minus one homer early in this game. How I wish the Astros would take it all, but again, Shoeless Joe et al, appear to be in on the games.
5. Joey, our adopted cockatiel, is pulling out some of his feathers. I am alarmed to say the least. I have read that it is something that they do when they are upset, nervous or the like. So I talked with him quite a bit today and put extra millet sprigs in his cage. Is it possible that he is having a delayed reaction to his new home? I hope not.
6. Today I was spring cleaning. It is my hope that we will be able to have Christmas this year. Last year, I was recovering from surgery, so no tree. This year, I want to have all of the trees up. One day, I will have my year-round-Christmas room. 'Til then, I will just enjoy it from the end of September to the New Year. It really doesn't bother me that Christmas decor is given more space in stores than Halloween junk. I do not like 10/31. I know that television shows and many people make a big fuss over it, but to me it just lost all of its allure when I discovered the history of it. There are so many things that I prefer. As much as I like autumn, I despise autumn colors. I have never liked them. Except on trees. Autumn's palette belongs on trees and slowly drips off of them and runs over and onto our lawns. It is beautiful.

Therapy and things

Well. Friday was therapy for P and I. It went so well that I simply had to write about it as soon as possible. Dry sarcasm is hard to hear on a blog, huh?

It was impossible. I wanted to leave at least three times and said as much. That boy. THAT boy. That BOY. Three ways and it doesn't seem to fit any way that I spell it.

I was hurt. Enraged. Anxious. Nervous and stunned. In tears and ready to make my escape. And all this in 45 minutes.

I think that we are beyond the "who is right or wrong" of it. I do not trust him. That simple and that complicated.

He doesn't want to come home again-ever. I find that stunning.

It ended badly, but neither the therapist or I knew it. I got the dose of it ending badly on the ride home. He wants to be "out there." It is where he can have his way without asking. He can live his life his way. I'm embarrassed for him, actually.

He is unemployed and living at the home of a like-aged friend. I wonder what the friend's parents think. I wonder what story they were told. I doubt the truth is being told, but does it matter? Am I thinking like a child myself?

During the year and a half that P was back with me, he lied, snuck a girl into our home late at night and had sex with her, had sex in our backyard, suffered that he had no say or part in an abortion-though it is what he wanted to happen, flunked out of high school, made up a class at the last moment and received a diploma-though it is still sitting at his high school waiting for him to pick it up.

He did all of these "grown up" things and after the therapy session, he was angry that I have to drop him from our health insurance. It is a requirement, since he isn't living here and doesn't want to return-which is for the best, I think.

I have given him a deadline to pack his room and I told him that he has to call me the day before he wants to come over and pack it up. He is going to store it here, which is fine for now.

So after four days of pondering the situation I realize that I am angry with him-again, still-which ever. I'm angry that he doesn't want to come home. I'm angry that he thinks everything is owed to him on a silver platter. I'm angry that he wants what he wants NOW. I'm angry that he feels entitled to it. I'm angry that I had to remind him that I did not get an apology from him for calling me vile things.

I think, too-and maybe most of all, I'm angry because "my boy" doesn't want to come home. He isn't my boy anymore and more importantly, I don't think he ever was. Not in the biblical sense of him not being my son-no not like that. I mean that all during the therapy session, he kept telling me how much better it had been living with his father. The batterer. The jerk. The man who so many times left deep purple bruises on my body that didn't go away for months. "The man" who knocked me out-literally.

My son models his measure of a good life by a man that is absolutely worthless. A man who doesn't deserve to be called, "a man." My son worships a man who threatened to take my boy from me and has made good on that promise. A man who told my little boy so many lies and was so deceitful with him that my son believes that I was the batterer in that relationship. OMG. That is the true measure of his father being the lowest form of life. He told my boy that I hit him...I cannot even begin to say how deeply that hurts.

My son believes "that man." He believes him. OMG, he BELIEVES him. Well doesn't that just make me want to grab an axe and play Paul Bunyan. (When I worked in forestry and my emotions were running hot, I would chop down brush, or buck up wood or run a chainsaw for a few hours. Physical labor is good for the soul.) He has believed this for a long time that I was the one who was hitting his father-what a laugh that is, but to be told this in the little room, well, I wanted to climb the walls. So, he's staying "out there."

I have given power away again to that jerk. I have given him the power to enrage me again. They say realizing that some thing is a problem is the first step to resolving it, but I have been down this road so many times. I thought that I beat this to death a long, long time ago. And here it is again rearing its ugly head. WHY CAN'T I JUST ESCAPE THE ABUSE OF THE PAST? WHY DOES IT ALWAYS COME BACK? EVERY TIME THAT I THINK I HAVE KICKED IT, IT CREEPS IN AGAIN.

I guess now all I want is for him to come pack his things. The deadline is Friday. Sigh. Then on November 11th, we go back to therapy. Why do I subject myself to such torture? Because he's my boy.

Sleep sweet, Rosa Parks

On December 1, 1956, Rosa Parks refused to give up her seat to a white passenger on a bus.

Two months later, she was taken into custody and finger printed. The fact that giving up her seat was the law is obscene.

I wish that we were farther along in race relations and rights. So many people are victimized even in the year 2005.

I am glad that she had the courage to take a stand on that December day so long ago. How many people have that kind of courage? To stand up and be counted in a country where simple basic rights were being denied must have been very frightening. It saddens me that there are still basic rights denied to people.

Poverty, hunger, racism, hatred run rampant in our world, but there are people like Rosa Parks. I hope that everyone who thinks about her today and in the days ahead are changed in a way that helps them do the right thing.

Like next time someone says a racist remark, you take the time to say, "that isn't funny." Or the next time someone gossips about someone who is different, you get up and walk out of the room. Or tell the gossip that you don't like talking about people behind their back.

I don't know if I would have refused to give up my seat. I don't know if I would have been that courageous, but I can live my life a little differently because Rosa Parks was. I hope one day that there won't be a need to discuss basic human rights as a goal in our lives. I hope one day that we will see it come to pass.

Rosa Parks died today-peacefully in her sleep at the age of 92-and I know that Jesus himself was there to welcome her home.

Fall on your knees

Have you ever hit rock bottom? Really hit it-hard. You know that you are as low as you can get and that is a good thing. Then, the bottom falls out again. There must be different levels of rock bottom. One step up and two steps back. I think that we are finally to the point where there are no more false bottoms and we are going to be making steady progress back up.

I texted messaged w/P today. I wanted to know what outcome he was looking for. Did he expect or desire to come home after the session? What was he thinking?

I was surprised that he didn't want to come home. I really was. I figured that he would want to just come home after the therapy session, but I was wrong. He said he didn't want to come home. He just wanted a relationship with his family.

I was relieved. G and I had been discussing terms for P to have to agree to before he could come home. I was glad that he didn't want to come home. TALK ABOUT GUILT! I mean, I feel guilty for feeling relieved.

G and I are getting closer again. We don't have a constant battle over manipulation by P. And we don't have that feeling of dread that something is going to turn into an argument. The yelling is almost non-existent. There is a sense of calm-well not perfect calm and certainly not all fun and games, but since P has been "out there," we have gained some peace.

It is strange that I assumed that P would want to come home right away-that he had had enough of being "out there." He doesn't want the rules or the arguing or yelling either. Perhaps I didn't realize that while I wasn't looking my boy did become a man. He is intelligent enough to know that it is not a good situation if he isn't willing to live by house rules. That is a "grown up" revelation.

He has made his mistakes and I have made mine. We will continue to do so, but I will have to tell him tomorrow that I am proud of him for being honest. He could have said that he would live by house rules and followed them for a few days and then gone back down the same ol' path. Instead, he chose to stay "out there."

I know that his reasons for staying out there aren't necessarily mature and sensible, but they are honest. Right now, that is very manly to me, so I have to remember to tell him so tomorrow.

Thank YOU for reading and keeping me in your thoughts and/or prayers. We are going to be okay. I apologize for not visiting your blog and commenting, but I need to continue to repair my family. I know some who drop in need prayers and thoughts, too...I am thinking about you. Thank you for listening.

Star light; star bright

I have been wishing on stars lately. Wishing. Hoping. Worrying. But I know that I will not find answers in the stars...Unless I am following the Star. The right Star. The Star that led so many to the manger.

I have written, but not finished a half dozen posts. I do not have anything to say, but this I know is true. I need to really give this all up to God. I need to let go. It is the most difficult thing that I can do.

When I am in this "mode," I usually lash out and attack things that bother me. I am a "fixer." If things are wrong, I right them. If there is an injustice, I right it. If there is someone who needs a "dressing down," I give it.

I learned to be a fixer a long time ago; it is my survival skill. It is what my mind taught me to do because my childhood terrorist was beyond my control. I have had many adult terrorists, too. I have discussed this in depth many a time. But these are the things that molded the person that I have become.

Lately, I have been wanting to secede from my family. I want my family to just go away and leave me alone, which is very contradictory to what I have written before. I haven't seen most of them in years and years, but it is especially at times like these that I want them to be gone from my life.

I look for approval-especially from my father. I will never have it. Even though he has on a few occasions told me that he is proud of me, I know when he is not. Like when I call him and my mother on the telephone and my children are talking in the background or making too much noise. I can hear the disapproval in his voice. The "children should be seen and not heard" mentality. This has cost me many sleepless nights and tears, but it is what it is.

I really struggle with my need for parental approval because I would also like to dress-down my parents. I would like to voice my disapproval and disappointments. My irritations and dislikes.

Perhaps that is what P is struggling with now-to a degree. He wants and perhaps needs parental approval, but he also wants and needs his independence. I cannot give my approval for some of his actions, but I can tell him that I love him and always will-more now than ever. It is exactly in times of crisis that we should blanket our family in love. Surround them with a family hug...Even long distance.

I do not have to approve of P's actions, but that doesn't mean that I don't approve of or love him. That is a difficult lesson to teach a child. I see the difficulty that I have with Little Big Boy and Number One Daughter. It is hard to tell a child that what they have done is naughty, but that you still love them...Not because the words won't come, but because their hearts and minds are so fragile. Little Big Boy doesn't understand how I can be angry and still love him, but I keep trying to show him how it is possible. At three and six years old respectively, Little Big Boy and Number One Daughter need to know that I am always going to be there for them.

That is a very hard lesson to teach when P has been kicked out. The little ones do not know where P is or why he hasn't been here lately. Little Big Boy keeps saying, "I wish P was here." "I do, too," I say.

Once when P was about eight years old, he and G were traveling alone across the state. P looked at G and said, "When you are thinking about someone who isn't with you, do you think that they are thinking about you, too?" G replied that he did think that it is true. I have been thinking and praying a lot for P. I wonder if he has been thinking and praying a lot for me, too?

I saw him briefly this morning. I hugged him for a long minute and let him go with tears in my eyes. Then he said, "When is your next appointment with Kris?" I told him that I didn't have one; to which he replied, "If you make an appointment, I'll go with you." We are going to therapy on Friday morning.

It is true. When you are thinking about someone-they are thinking about you.

"O My Father, if it is possible, let this cup pass from Me; nevertheless, not as I will, but as You will" (Matthew 26:39).

In your 18th year

Another turning point; a fork stuck in the road.

Time grabs you by the wrist; directs you where to go.

So make the best of this test and don't ask why.

It's not a question but a lesson learned in time.

It's something unpredictable but in the end it's right.

I hope you had the time of your life.

So take the photographs and still frames in your mind.

Hang it on a shelf

In good health and good time.

Tattoos of memories and dead skin on trial.

For what it's worth, it was worth all the while.

It's something unpredictable, but in the end it's right.

I hope you had the time of your life.(music break)

It's something unpredictable, but in the end it's right.

I hope you had the time of your life.

It's something unpredictable, but in the end it's right.

I hope you had the time of your life.

18 year old loves that song. I don't know where he is. Maybe that is best. I texted him that I love him and always will. I worry and wonder where he is. Nights are long, but I hope that they are short, warm and comfortable for him.

He called a couple of days ago, but it ended in him swearing at me again. Right now, I guess he just needs to be out there to see what "reality" truly means.

I feel guilty and afraid, but there are times when Little Big Boy yells at me and I know what is happening. The yelling took over our home, so it was time to put an end to it. It just seems to have cost so much either way.

When Number One Daughter was in a daycare program, she changed rooms and began to call it "the yelling school." I popped in unexpectedly one afternoon and discovered that "the yelling school," was a very accurate description of her new room. The teacher was yelling at a student and grabbed something out of the little girl's hand. The look on both of their faces were awful...one out of control, the other fright filled.

I reprimanded the teacher and took my daughter and the other girl to another teacher's room and asked for the center director. She wasn't in and I left a message for her to call me. I told G what had happened and we never stepped in that facility again; no one was going to treat our daughter like that. It was a bad situation and I made certain that the district HQ knew what had happened.

Now I realize that we were all yelling in our home. It was time to end the yelling. I do not want Little Big Boy or Number One Daughter to think of this as "the yelling home." So much to repair.

The silence from 18 year old is a weapon I suspect. That alone makes this necessary, but it isn't easy. Ten years from now, I hope that the silence was worth it for all of our sakes.

We'll leave a light on...

Yes. We'll leave a light on and a path cleared to the door. Wishing wishes...a soldier...a soldier comin' home....

Soldiers are everywhere, I think. You might be a soldier. Fighting your "good fight." A tough day at work. The loss of someone dear. A prodigal son or daughter. Are you a soldier-fighting a fight of some kind?

Then you know how tough YOUR fight is. So tonight, get down on your knees and say a prayer for our Armed Forces. Their fight could cost them their life. And they are fighting for us. For our freedoms, our country, our children.

I am lost in my "issues," but I know that there are greater pains. There are deeper sorrows. There are bigger fights. God bless all soldiers.

And while we're on the subject: After all that has happened around the world, isn't it TIME TO BRING GOD BACK INTO OUR SCHOOLS? Back into our government. Back into our lives.

After Katrina hit New Orleans and all of the devastation was evident, Anne Graham was interviewed on a morning show and asked where God is in all of this? Her answer was stunning and profound-an email message is making the rounds now about her reply. This is it:

"I think God is deeply saddened by this, just as we are, but for years we've been telling God to get out of our schools, to get out of our government and to get out of our lives. And being the gentleman He is, I believe He has calmly backed out. How can we expect God to give us His blessing and His protection if we demand He leave us alone?" In light of recent events...terrorists attack, school shootings, etc. I think it started when Madeleine Murray O'Hare (she was murdered, her body found recently) complained she didn't want prayer in our schools, and we said OK.

Then someone said you better not read the Bible in school. The Bible says thou shalt not kill, thou shalt not steal, and love your neighbor as yourself. And we said OK. Then Dr. Benjamin Spock said we shouldn't spank our children when they misbehave because their little personalities would be warped and we might damage their self-esteem (Dr. Spock's son committed suicide). We said an expert should know what he's talking about. And we said OK.

Now we're asking ourselves why our children have no conscience, why they don't know right from wrong, and why it doesn't bother them to kill strangers, their classmates, and themselves.

Probably, if we think about it long and hard enough, we can figure it out. I think it has a great deal to do with "WE REAP WHAT WE SOW." Funny how simple it is for people to trash God and then wonder why the world's going to hell. Funny how we believe what the newspapers say, but question what the Bible says.

Funny how you can send 'jokes' through e-mail and they spread like wildfire but when you start sending messages regarding the Lord, people think twice about sharing. Funny how lewd, crude, vulgar and obscene articles pass freely through cyberspace, but public discussion of God is suppressed in the school and workplace.

Funny how when you forward this message, you will not send it to many on your address list because you're not sure what they believe, or what they WILL think of you for sending it. Funny how we can be more worried about what other people think of us than what God thinks of us."

Well, I do not like Billy Graham. Once upon a time, he said if his "congregation" didn't send him enough money then God was going to "call him home." What a bunch of malarkey. God wouldn't take someone to Heaven over a "material" thing like money. I do not like televangelists either. They are dooms day sayers and they prey on your pocketbook. Pun intended.

But I have to agree with his daughter that our world is going to hell. If our money says, "In God we trust" why can't we?