Are We a Government of the People, or Not?

Society in every state is a blessing, but government, even in its best state, is but a necessary evil; in its worst state, an intolerable one.
Thomas Paine, from Common Sense

Our government is sticking its fingers into every aspect of our lives. Our founding fathers did not want that. Our current elected officials in DC have forgotten that our founders wanted individuals and states to be more powerful than the federal government. For the most part, our Representatives and Senators have been inoculated with the DC vaccine that prevents them from caring about you and me.

As leaders, they believe they are untouchable. But we have a strong way to fight back. Let’s stop re-electing the same foolish and arrogant people. Just because they have a famous name or have been in office a long time does not mean they are doing a good job.

Look at the voting record of your elected officials. It’s not that hard. I get an email every week from http://www.congress.org. It tells me what my representatives and senators voted on and how they voted. It also tells me what upcoming votes there are so I can call them in a timely fashion if I want to let them know how want them to vote.

Remember, they are there to represent us but they cannot do that if we don’t tell them what we want. We have a responsibility to speak out, know the issues, research them, and vote. It is imperative that, as parents, we do this. So much of what we decide as voters affects them more than us.

Set a good example for our kids. Talk to them about civics and current events. Encourage them to be active. We are in this mess now because of apathy. We are the only way out.

It is time we take our constitutionally guaranteed power of the people back from Washington!

The Best Part of Me

You're the best part of me
The best that I am
Or ever will be
You, baby, you're the part
That allows me to open my heart
And let love inside
I want you to know
What I've always known
You're the best part of me.
from the song, You Are The Best Part of Me. Sung by Neil Diamond

Working in my office this morning, I had Neil Diamond music on in the background. I found myself listening to the words of this song and my mind drifted to my children. Memories of childhoods, pranks, talks, activities, and more popped into my consciousness.

I remembered times when my marriage was going bad, or when it was simply gone, and loneliness engulfed me. You, my children, were there for me. You gave me unasked for hugs, sticky kisses, and unconditional love. Even now, so many years later, the joy of that love makes me warm. You could not have known the pain I was in, but you soothed me.

And you kept me grounded and moving. There was never time to wallow in self-pity or spend weeks in bed. There were lunches to make and bottoms to wipe. There were games and practices to attend and hair to brush. Day by day, you kept me busy and I healed. You were the medicine that made me whole again.

Everyday you made me lots of things--tired, happy, frustrated, proud. But mostly you made me smile and laugh, even when I thought I would never smile and laugh again. When I felt unloveable and unable to love, you would show me that I could love because I loved you all so much. Your boundless love made me realize that I was loveable. Who needed therapy when I had you all?

I see you all now and realize that there are a few scars from your childhoods, and for that I am sorry. But mostly I see warm, caring adults who are better than I ever was at your ages. I see people who are making this world a more wonderful place, one person at a time. Sometimes, I marvel at the fact that you came from my body and wonder how that could be.

Truly, you are the best part of me.

What To Do With a Pile of Crap

I think you need to...focus on the wonder that is you…..Celebrate your marvelous existence…Perhaps that sounds difficult now, while every cell in your body is recovering from your pilgrimage….give yourself time to mourn. Be patient and compassionate with yourself, then do it. Cross over the threshold.
Mary Anne, from the book, When the Piano Stops by Catherine McCall

Each of us has crap to get over in our lives. Sometimes it is a big pile of crap. Sometimes it is a small pile of crap. But it is our crap and, therefore, important to us personally. Losing yourself to it only prevents you from seeing the glory of you. You are unique and special. Don't believe anyone who tells you different! You have a purpose in life that is wonderful and is only yours.

So let go of the crap. I hear you—it is easier said than done. But let it go. If it is a grudge against someone, forgive them. We don’t know what is in their hearts or their lives. But we do know ours. Remember that no two objects can fill the same space, so where hate and anger exists, there cannot be love. It may diminish your ability to love a little or a lot, depending on how much you are hanging on to.

If you focus on that anger rather than being truly happy, then the other person has control over you. So they have hurt you and now you have ceded control to them. Is that what you really want? And the rest of the sad news is that your anger and hate does not affect its object one iota. The only one it affects is you. So, as Mary Anne says in the book, Celebrate yourself and cross over the threshold into forgiveness.

When you do cross through that door, remember to slam it shut and lock it so it never again damages your life.

This is Real Life, Folks!

Ok, I have talked about my dad recently. What I didn't tell you was that he has four great-grandchildren--all boys. Yes, Monty and I have 12 grandchildren but some are steps and some are from his side of the family. That aside, Daddy is pretty proud of his boys.

This summer when the outliers (the ones who live in another country right now) were home, I was determined that we would get a photo of the 4 guys and their great-granddad. Sounds easy, doesn't it?

The first obstacle was coordinating everyone's schedules; a Herculean task of its own when you are trying to also include nap times and "happy, not cranky" times. Then, of course, you also have to consider the children, not just the parents.

Finally we were all together and decided to make a stab at getting a picture. Where were those people from photo studios who know how to make kids pay attention and smile sweetly at the camera? My biggest regret was in not videoing the whole thing--I could have made a lot of money on some funny video show!

Dad sat on the love seat and we surrounded him with kids ages 3 and under. The parents were making faces and noises in the background--funny by itself. My stepmom was laughing hysterically in the corner, far away from the chaos.

As you can see in the photo, all was normal. One child was climbing down to escape and constantly had to be put back on the loveseat. The infant was, thankfully, asleep. However none of us know how. The next one was crying hysterically. Why? We don't know except that he seemed to do that every time he was around Daddy. And the fourth munchkin was sitting sweetly making goofy faces at the camera.

This is real life, folks. What did I do? I enlarged them and gave them to everyone. Daddy's was framed and he got it for his birthday. Really, everytime I look at mine, I laugh remembering the craziness that went into that picture. To me, it is more valuable than a fine studio portrait.

How much reality do our kids need?

On Fox News the other day I saw a short segment about the pros and cons of a new American Girl doll. The back story on this on is that she was homeless. If you missed it, here is the link:
http://blog.parentinggirls.com/2009/09/video-homeless-doll-debate-on-foxnews.html.

What do you think?

Now, to be fair, the doll does have a happy ending in which her mommy gets a job and a house. But, seriously, is this what we want for our kids? Little girls that are playing with these dolls are very young, mostly 4-8 years old. Why do we want them to have that much reality forced on them at that age?

I thought dolls were for play rather than for social statements. Little girls play with dolls and mimic their own lives. It is a way for them learn about becoming an adult and dealing with issues in their own lives. Adding a homeless story to a small child that is not homeless can create all kinds of questions and fears that child is not prepared for at such a tender age.

Why do our babies have to know that ugliness and pain exist? Can't they just be innocent for a few years? Can't they just play with their dolls and have tea parties and pretend to be a puppy or a pilot? Can't they just be little?

There is plenty of time for kids to experience the negative things in the world. Why do we have to explain homelessness, drug addiction, mental illnesses, losing a job, and all these things involve to a 5 year old? What purpose does that serve?

It will frighten a child. I know I would have been afraid that I would end up homeless. That is not play. It is forcing our children to lose what little innocence we have not already taken away from them. Very sad!

Happy 85th Daddy

Yesterday was my dad's 85th birthday. To live that long is one thing, but to be fully in control of your mind and bladder is miraculous. He is an amazing man and I strive to be more like him. In honor of him, I am posting a poem I wrote for him several years ago. (The photo is my dad and sister from earlier this year.)

NOT COMPLETELY NEW

You taught me your ways
And under your loving gaze,
As a child, every day I grew
Into someone not completely new.

You gave me direction and love,
Taught me to cherish nature and the stars above.
You taught me to be honest and fair,
And about myself and others to care.
Just like you I wanted to be
Giving no thought to being me.

Inevitably I sought independence as a teen
And now I’m somewhere in between.
I am me and I am you,
Someone not completely new.

We can’t always know God’s plan
And some things we never understand.
However, now I know one thing.
When the angels come to sing
And take me to my final rest,
The part of me that is you has been the best.

For I am me and I am you,
Someone, thankfully, not completely new.

Forget Vampires: Grandma Scares Me to Death!

If little Nathanael could write about his Mema, this is what he would tell you all--that I scared the first real tears out of him. You know, that is not what a grandma aspires to, not what we dream of when we think of being in on the "firsts" in our grandchildren's lives. Unfortunately, it happened to me.

Background to the story: I babysat for two other little grand-guys while both parents went to the doctor. Both had upper respiratory symptoms and were feeling lousy. So I kept the guys for a couple of hours. The next day, Nathanael's dad asked if I could babysit for a little while.

Back to the story...I arrive at their house complete with a mask to wear when near the baby so in case I was a germ carrier, I might not pass it on to the baby. Sitting across the room from him was great. I didn't have to wear the mask and we were making faces at each other--he is so close to laughing and is so cute.

The trouble came when I took him from Mommy so they could leave. I put on my mask and picked him off her lap and all was well for a few minutes. I had him on my shoulder and he could not see my face. Unfortunately, then, he looked me dead in the face, or mask as it may be. Then all you-know-what broke loose.

The word scream does not adequately describe his reaction. Hysterical would be more accurate. Daddy came running over and pointed out as he was yanking my grandson out of my arms that Nathanael was actually crying tears. It was the first time he had seen tears in his son's eyes and I thought he was going to have a coniption. (If you don't know what that means, you aren't from Dixie...)

Of course I felt awful and my son proceded to try to make me feel worse--in fun. Soon the baby became accustomed to how I looked and we got along fine, but I didn't get any more smiles that night. He just kept looking at me with suspicion like he was saying. "Who are you? You sound like my Mema and feel like my Mema, but you don't look like my Mema."

I am happy to announce that I was there today, sans mask, and we laughed together a lot. He seemed to be over the mask trauma. (I hope I don't have to pay for therapy later.)

However, my other son called me to say that he heard from his brother that Nathanael had taken a good look at my face and became hysterical. I, of course, set the record straight and then forbade him from speaking to his brother ever again.