Daniels Birth Story- Part 1

I made a startling discovery cleaning out closets to make room for our new little one. I found baby pictures of Daniel that I had hidden away. A box full. I saw them and I was overwhelmed by memories of my second born. Painful ones that I would rather have kept hidden away. I saw within them my battle with a two year long depression. I remember swimming in despair for such a long moment. It was a sudden and unexpected turn of events that led to this time. One that I have rarely discussed and one that makes my throat tighten as I think of it now. It wasn't so much a postpartum depression as much as it was PTSD.

It all began within hours of Daniels birth. I received a call from my doctors office that shook me to the very core. One that made a childhood monster rear its ugly head. It was a thing that most women wouldn't have thought twice about.... My doctor was out of the country by then, leaving for a 7 day trip to Germany within hours after delivering Daniel. I was left in the care of the doctors on call and his nurse at the time. It was the nurse that made the call. As I lay in the hospital bed, smiling down at our new little one, I reached to answer the phone. "Kim, I have some news, but I need for you not to panic." I felt my skin turn cold as she told me that my HIV test had come back indeterminate. She followed this with the instruction not to breastfeed Daniel until further notice. With that, she hung up. I remember telling Joe and him telling me it was probably nothing and that we would deal with whatever lay ahead of us. I remember nurses watching me and counseling me and telling me to talk to my pastor, as if I were a sinner that led to this conclusion. I remember one nurse storming into the room as I had forgotten the one warning... Do Not Breastfeed. I had been awakened by my new born calling me in the middle of the night and cradling him to me as a mother will do out of a primal urge to feed their baby. She told me that if I dared to try and breastfeed him again, she would have no choice but to call social services. I remember crying, all alone, as Joe was home with Matthew. Nurses asking me if my husband was faithful, If I was faithful, If I did drugs to bring this about. I remember the feeling of being unworthy and stained. I was told by the doctor on call and several nurses that these tests were very rarely wrong and that it would take two weeks to get the final test results back. I did have one nurse tell me in confidence that she had  seen the test wrong on several occasions, but they are trained to stick to the script, so as not to raise any hopes in the hopeless. I was anxious and crying. I explained over and over again that we had been faithfully married for 12 years and that I had numerous negative HIV tests with both of my children, but in the back of my head... Was my childhood fears. What if? I was raised in a culture of drugs and had actually had an aunt who passed away from this horrible new disease. It kept me awake at nights as a child. An ugly unavoidable monster in the closet. I myself, had never done anything to be in a category of high risk. What if?.... What if it had lay dormant through all those happy years? What if?.... What if I had contracted it giving blood for the numerous blood tests a woman has during pregnancy? What if?.... What if the love of my life HADN'T been faithful? The what ifs were back and they didn't feel as if they would ever release their hold on me. I couldn't tell anyone outside of Joe. I told him not to tell anyone. My mother-in-law knew something was wrong the next days and weeks, as I was not the mother I should have been. I was anxious and angry. I didn't want company. I wasn't breastfeeding as I swore I would. The lactation specialist at the hospital told me to pump and dump. Pump every chance I got and dump it out over the next few weeks. I tried, but I was so angry. I gave up within days. It was too painful to see a part of me swirling down the drain.

   I remember reaching underneath my arm and feeling a painful lump a week into the wait. I remember the questions swirling around in my head. What if?... I called the doctors office telling them that I needed help. That I needed answers. That I felt that I would go insane. My doctor told me to come in right away. When he saw me he was shocked... and angry. Angry that I was called by his nurse. Angry that the doctor on call didn't call him. Angry that my records... our records.... where never taken into account. He told me that he has AT LEAST 4 false positives a year. He told me that he has more false positives now that they are checking ALL mothers than true positives. He told me that women who have more than one baby can start to make markers that can appear to be HIV, but it's actually your body trying to fight off an invasion of a pregnancy. Its rare, but becoming more commonplace as mandatory testing has become the norm. He sat us in his office and called the lab in another state. He demanded that they get him my results NOW. He told us not to leave the office until he had an answer. Within the hour, as he sits counseling us, the phone rings. It was the lab. Absolutely all markers were clear. I left the office on a temporary cloud of vindication. It should have been the end. But I was angry. I had lost a week. One that I would never get back. I had gained nothing but fear and anger.

 I realize now that losing the next two years was my doing. I was so lost and afraid. I dug the hole deeper. I would try so hard to shake it off but then I would see birth pictures or hear a story and it would all come flooding back. What if?.... I began putting pictures away. Daniel would ask why Matt had a scrapbook and his was incomplete. I just couldn't face it. I STILL cry seeing them. Looking back on it now, I realize the insignificance of it all in the grand scheme of things. I see the selfishness in being so lost as I was. My children are alive and healthy. We are blessed beyond measure...

When I found out I was pregnant with Dash, it was this that played over and over in my head. What if?... I remember my throat tightening in that familiar way as I sat having my blood drawn. My hands clammy as he drew vial after vial... I remember the doctors NEW nurse (the other one disappeared shortly after Daniel was born) calling me with all my results. I can still hear her tell me nonchalantly that everything looked great. (HIV negative, Strep negative, Iron level low.) I stopped her and asked her to repeat the HIV result. I told her that I wanted a copy to take to the hospital. She also told me that after my case, the doctor started testing his patients the month before delivery instead of letting the hospital do it. This gives them time to run any final confirmatory tests before delivery. Did I make a small difference? I hope so... There are so many times I wanted to go to the hospital and tell them what they did to me. I still may... I am armed with knowledge now.

I'm not sure what to expect after Dash is born. I think I will surround myself better. I think I will let more people in. I will accept help and talk when I need to. I pray that I do things differently, for my children's sake. I pray that I'm more open.... I'll Pray...


As for now... I'm moving on. I am naming this post Daniels Birth Story - Part 1. I am doing this because I never want Daniel to think that this was the soul of his existence. I want to write about his TRUE birth story later on. The one that reflects the love that we have for him and the joy that he added to our family. THIS was NEVER about him. It was about me. I am also burying it deep into my blog, because I'm not sure if I really want anyone to read it. I had to write it. I had to put into words the monster in my closet. I didn't do it to be read..... I rushed through it, putting the words onto digital paper without a care for style or technique. It's just been there, under the surface for so long... and it's done.

UPDATE: I've had my two blood tests and both have been negative.... of course! :)

The Card

I've been thinking about my mom and dad today. They've both passed away in recent years. If you haven't lost anyone so much a part of you, there is something you may not know. There is a small window of time after they leave you that you feel their presence. Maybe hours, maybe days. There is an electricity in the air. The wind blows cold when it should be warm. There are small unexpected gifts, like the butterfly that lands on your shoulder, the tomato hornworm for their sweet buggy grandson. The answered prayer at the last minute. There is the rainbow trout that ONLY Matthew could catch. The buzzard (because my dad had a wicked sense of humor). Then there is the Card.

When my mom passed away, she left my step-dad, lost and alone. He stayed with us for a week, getting his bearings, wondering how to survive the loss of his soul-mate. My step-dad and mom had never stayed overnight with us in the past. We had offered and begged, but they always followed the same pattern. Come bearing gifts. Stay a few hours, then head home. So we were pleasantly surprised when this this man my children called Grandpa decided to stay. He spent time with the boys and our extended family. He helped around the house and shared memories of my mom. One afternoon he decided to run home and pick up a few keepsakes that my mom wanted for me to have. As we were looking through the boxes of pictures and memories, I came across a card. It was addressed to Joe and I in my moms neat handwriting. I opened it and felt that electricity.... I asked Ronnie if he had bought the card and he said no. I could tell that he was as surprised as I was. There was a doorway behind a picket fence. There was a verse of scripture that read

Cheerfully share 

your home with those 

who need a meal or a place 

to stay for the night

1 Peter 4:9

Opening the card, it read

Thank You from the bottom 

of my well-cared-for heart 

for wrapping me in the love of Christ as you

welcomed me into your home.

Love, Mom and Ronnie

I remember...

I remember carrying my moms ashes out of the funeral home. I was her only daughter. I was so angry because nobody else offered and I was so determined not to ask...I wouldn't have let them anyway, it was not their burden to carry.  My jaw was set as I walked out the door and down the sidewalk. I was expected to be the strong one, as always... taking me back to being a child and always being the one to carry the burden. I'm grateful to God for easing my burden over the last 16 years. I'm grateful to God for a strong shoulder to lean on... in Joe.

My Daddy

   Tomorrow marks a year. It's been a year since my daddy passed away. He was such a large force in my life for so long. Words usually come easy for me as I write, but the words for this... It's difficult.

   Daddy was the sun and the rest of us just rotated around him, careful to get too close for fear of heat.

   Daddy lived many lifetimes and I came along well into one of them. He first married at eighteen and went on to have eight children with his first wife.

   He married my mom when he was thirty-five and she twenty. I came along five years later.

   Laura became my step-mom when I was sixteen. It was difficult sharing him, but I was grateful for the moment to break-away from his orbit, at least enough to have a life of my own. With Laura came came six step-kids and an amazing baby sister. She is a Junior in high school as I turn thirty-seven. I am grateful for the richness they've added to our lives.

   My daddy was a good man in his soul, but he was long lost from it. I truly believe he loved deeply but his fears overruled him. He felt shame instead of Grace and with that he turned all that was good into mistrust and anger.Thats why its so hard for me to find the good times. He avoided them and kept them from me. From all of us.

I can find dads Grace, but to do so we have to drive. We drive to the Texas Hill Country. I can feel his goodness on the wind. I can see his love in the red streaks of the hills at sunset. I can see my dad as a boy in my sons as they splash in the river.

   Thats where we were when we heard the news. By a river watching Matthew catch a rainbow trout that continued to elude Joe. It was meant for Matthew to do. Friday, February 13th 2009. Leave it to my daddy to leave us on Friday the 13th.

The Backwards Motion of The Sexual Revolution

"Women who seek to be equal with men lack ambition".  ~Timothy Leary

        We are stronger than men in every sense and yet we strive to be equal. Why do we lower our standards? The sexual revolution did little to help women find their power. I would even counter that it took us backwards in our fight. Proving the point that we were nothing more than sexual beings. It gave us a false sense of control, but what it really did was give men a constant plaything with no reason to revere us. Sure we may not get pregnant but men could still use us to their abandon. They no longer had to restrain their urges until they were ready to become fathers and husbands.  Men took this opportunity to place the burden of responsibility squarely on our shoulders as women. The goal should never have been to equate us to men but to EXALT us as women. To give power to our evolutionary and God-given design as caretakers and nurturers. To honor our mothers and their mothers before them. Instead woman of the movement looked down upon the very woman that raised them, shaming those that were stronger and worked harder than any of us have ever had to.


How free are we when even workplace equality has thrown of the balance of our lives by making it virtually impossible for one person to provide for their family? So many women entered the workforce at once that it was a financial boon for corporations everywhere. They could pay us less AND lay off our husbands at the same time. They continued by lowering mens salaries instead of raising womens. We can no longer choose lightly to raise our own children without the sense of guilt and burden we feel by placing so much of one partners shoulders.

 How free are we when we feel a profound sense of guilt for choosing not to take birth control. We, even as married women, feel that we are socially irresponsible, if we choose to avoid the  chemicals and hormones that MAY not work for us. We are racked with guilt as feminist women look down upon a woman like Sarah Palin for having the audacity to give birth to a child with down syndrome. Surely a woman that "chooses" that could NOT be an intelligent capable woman to look up to! Further, they rail against her daughter as she takes, once again, a vow of abstinence, snickering at the ignorance of a girl thinking that she may control her own sexual urges. They talk of freedom of choice as long as its not that "Duggar" woman that dares to have 18 children in this day and age.


My father was the biggest pro-feminist of them all, I can assure you. He saw absolutely no reason for my mom to stay home to raise me after I was born. He demanded that she return to waitressing six weeks after I was born and she never sealed the hole in her heart. Where was her power?


My husband and I worked together for eight years to build our lives and home, so that we could be prepared to raise a child. When I decided to stop working to raise my oldest, my father told me that I should be "ashamed of myself" for putting such an undue burden upon my husband. I took my power and my moms, along with the grace of God and a whole lot of prayer and I made the decision that was right for US.


This isn't to say that we shouldn't have birth control or the right to "equal work, equal pay" Surely, we do. Yet we need to look into our mirrors and ask WHY we are more tired than ever before, less happy than even our own mothers. HOW is it possible that we can have it all,  yet we seem to have less? WHAT is our new place in this world? WHEN did this happen and WHO caused our turmoil?  We did, by forgetting our mothers and what the real struggle was about. I think the mistake came when we turned it into a social and political movement instead of an evolving , natural process of society. We let too few speak for too many 


We don't need to find our equality, we need to find our Power.

"It's A Wonderful Life"... If you just look.

I love "It's A Wonderful Life". It is the one movie that I must see every Christmas. Without it's message I am lost in a jungle of greed and want. Its simple message is that each of us touches the world around us in ways that we may never see. Let your gift to the world make a positive difference in the life of another. We can't possibly please everyone, but we can make smile those that matter the most. There will always be "Mr. Potter's" in your life and you will never please them, so stop trying and be true to who you are.

A few lessons in giving from Emeka Okenwa on face book

 ...The Lord doesn’t see things the way you see them. People judge by outward appearance, but the Lord looks at the heart.”
1st Samuel 16:7(NLT)

The beauty of what we do is in the reason for doing it. The whys and the wherefores of our every good works is what God looks at. The bible says,"Even if I dole out all that I have [to the poor in providing] food, and if I surrender my body to be burned or in order that I may glory, but have not love (God's love in me), I gain nothing" 1st Corinthians 13:3(AMP). Love is greater than any other reason...Love is the grestest motive

Lets be Love motivated in our every action!

"And so faith, hope, love abide [faith--conviction and belief respecting man's relation to God and divine things; hope--joyful and confident expectation of eternal salvation; love--true affection for God and man, growing out of God's love for and in us], these three; but the greatest of these is love."
1st Corinthians 13:13

...The Lord doesn’t see things the way you see them. People judge by outward appearance, but the Lord looks at the heart.”
1st Samuel 16:7(NLT)

The beauty of what we do is in the reason for doing it. The whys and the wherefores of our every good works is what God looks at. The bible says,"Even if I dole out all that I have [to the poor in providing] food, and if I surrender my body to be burned or in order that I may glory, but have not love (God's love in me), I gain nothing" 1st Corinthians 13:3(AMP). Love is greater than any other reason...Love is the grestest motive

Lets be Love motivated in our every action!

"And so faith, hope, love abide [faith--conviction and belief respecting man's relation to God and divine things; hope--joyful and confident expectation of eternal salvation; love--true affection for God and man, growing out of God's love for and in us], these three; but the greatest of these is love."
1st Corinthians 13:13

Everything that we believe, comes from somewhere.

   Everything that we do, Everything that we believe, comes from somewhere.

   One year, as I was entering the third grade, my school decided that I was a good candidate for the magnet school program. A magnet school is a school that draws students outside of their community by offering alternate curricula, such as arts and specialty sciences. The magnet school that I would attend was downtown in Houston. A good 30 minute drive from where we lived. I spent almost 4 hours a day on the school bus.

   Although we spent time studying the three R's, most of our days were spent studying art, violin, gymnastics, dance. I can remember more from those hours in that one year than all of my years in school. I learned to appreciate beauty and ordinary talent in a whole new way. Not only did I expand my knowledge of these fields, but I also learned the art of education. It helped me to see the beauty of the written word and even an equation.

   During that time, I met one of two people that changed the course of my life, just as a butterfly flapping its wings in China sends a tidal wave around the world. Small acts of kindness that found my soul.

    The school counselor saw me weekly. She talked to me, never down to me. As I look back, I realize that she had concerns that I was neglected at home. My clothes didn't fit. Rarely were they clean. I smelled of smoke. I was sick often. My parents were detached and uninvolved. I was a modern day ragamuffin.

   Right before Christmas that year, she asked if I would like to go shopping. I remember as she pulled up to where I lived. She was beautiful and her car was so warm. I felt so safe. Now that I look back on it, she would have had to ask for permission, yet I never remember my parents mentioning it.

  She told me that she went to Saint Matthews church on Shephard drive, right down from where I lived. I remember riding past that church at Christmas time every year, fascinated by the nativity scene, feeling a connection, although I never set foot inside. Now at this moment, I see the connection. She and Saint Matthew's had taken up a collection for me, for that Christmas. As we drove, we talked. I know we had to talk about me, but what I remember is absorbing all the words about her and her family. She was married, no kids at the time, had a cat. I remember spending the day trying on clothes, buying coats, shoes, dresses, even gifts for my parents. We spent the entire day together, going to lunch,  running errands as we stopped at the dry cleaners. Along the way, we stopped at her house. It was a small house, warm and clean. Perfect. I played with her cat and wanted to move in. I never wanted to leave. It seemed as every book I had ever read. Although I went home, I don't remember any of it. The day was too perfect to think of reality. Although she knew things were bad at home, she never quite knew how bad. That day, simply being a kid with a dream, saved me.

   What I remember next breaks my heart to this day... It was a few months later and my dad was to have a conference at the school. I can't remember why . I can't remember if it was urgent or just a day to see what I had accomplished. What I remember is being in the car, driving around for hours. My dad being angry because he couldn't find it. I remember as tears slid down my cheek as he shouted. He was angry because I was going to a school that he could not find.  He had never, not once, walked into the school that I loved so dearly. And he never would. We never made it to the meeting and I never went back. The next day I was told to walk down to the school down the street and register.

   Now, as a mom, I am at my boys school weekly, daily. I know every teacher and counselor. I know every hallway. If there is something that needs to be done, I'm there to help. Some have attempted to plant a halo firmly upon my head, but the truth is, I do what I do for purely selfish reasons. I have kids, some...such as I was, modern day ragamuffins, that call me by name. I see them smile and I know that as I smile back, one day they'll think to pay it forward. Kindness.

   So, to all teachers, counselors and volunteers... There are days when you ask yourself why you do what you do. There are parents that don't care and kids you can't reach, but there are some that will look back upon you fondly. Some that have found their soul through your words and actions. Some that will grow to new heights because of you. And you may never even know it.

Azaleas against Bamboo

IMG_0630
Originally uploaded by MDS mommy

This was taken at Mercer Arboretum.

olive grove images

Let's talk about Race

 A response of mine to a forum on the President's healthcare policy.


I just hate this feeling of walking down the street and noticing color again. I hold the door open for someone and I think, "Does she hate my race?" I see underground videos of people like Van Jones and reverend Wright and countless others and it shocks me to know that they hide these deep seated feelings of resentment. I'm not saying that I don't understand, but I guess thats the point. I can never truly understand. I just think that harboring resentment is only letting it boil up inside of a person to the bitter end and it gets us nowhere. 


What I am trying to say is this. When a black man such as Van Jones says that the white man owes those that he oppressed, he is not saying that "all men are created equal" He is saying that The white man is to become the slave and the black (indian, hispanic, chinese) man the oppressor. Revenge is an ugly thing and needs to be set aside to make this a better world. Is that what Martin Luther King would have wanted? Is that what he meant by "I have a dream?" Does that sound like what Kennedy meant in his definition of a liberal? "Someone who looks ahead and not behind?" I don't want my sons to pay for the sins of the grandfather twice removed. I don't want them to see color as they walk down the street.  


So stop letting our representatives turn this into something racial. It isn't. And that is only used to incite anger. That is not change or hope for a better world. Believe me if they are allowed to do this to me, they will be allowed to do this to you.

This picture...

... moves me as few others ever have.

There's NOT an app for that...

Joe's text to friends - "I ripped my Pants today" 

Erin's reply - "Kim will sew them when you get home" 

Joe's response to Erin - " I don't think the iPhone has an app for that" 

*cue laughter*

Autumn

What I'm looking forward to... Fall, pumpkin carving, festivals & Mini Candy Apples! Take green apples and a melon baller core out rounds of an apple. Stick a wooden skewer into the green skin, dip into melted caramel and whatever else your heart desires. Bite sized autumn.








Two of my favorite Authors (Athol Dickson and Dan Brown) are releasing books on the same day... September 15th. Now I just have to decide which to read first.


Our New parent volunteer program at school. I hope it's successful. I hope that I am able to demonstrate to other parents how rewarding it is to play a part in our students well being and success. It's going to be a great year!


Planning to.... Go to Wimberly in September/october for the olive pressing at Bella Vista. See my current dream below.


Go to Dewberry farm pumpkin patch and corn maze.


...Go to the North Pole on the Polar Express ( Texas State Railroad in November/December 1st class) in our finest pajamas for storytime and hot cocoa.


My current dream... Having an olive grove in the Texas Hill Country. Texas olives and olive oil, I guarantee, are the next big thing. Bella Vista Ranch is the first to offer commercial olive oil in Texas.
.

Washington DC or Bust

    Matthew spent a lot of First grade learning about monuments and what they stand for, so this summer we decided to take a road trip to Washington DC. The idea actually came with the release of "Night at the Museum Battle of the Smithsonian". We spent most of the summer putting off our trip, that is, until Daniel began demanding that we go to "Big City". He was relentless in his pursuit of this road trip. After some reluctance, we loaded up our Suburban and head to our first stop, Lafayette Louisiana.

   Louisiana is the reason I dreaded this trip in the first place. It seems to never end and you go across one swamp only to find another. Since we left at night, I knew that we wouldn't make it through. We stayed in a Hampton Inn only to find out that it was right next to a small airport, which, as the planes fly over you, actually drip jet fuel onto your head. That was not a pleasant experience.

The next day, we drove for 12 hours to our next destination, Stone Mountain, Georgia. Stone Mountain Georgia is a state park with two resorts and one very large campground. Although we brought our tent gear, we decided that it was too late to camp, so we stayed in one of the resorts, after some initial mixup with our reservations, we made it to our room at 10.30. The next day we enjoyed the site of Stone Mountain, as well as the amusement park followed by a fun picnic and laser show.

I annoyed Joe with my insistence of downloading state songs to my iPhone as we drove through each state. Needless to say, we listened to Ray Charles and Charlie Daniels as we left Georgia heading to our next destination, Biltmore, North Carolina. This was the ME part of the trip and I was really looking forward to seeing "America's Castle" the largest residence in the United States. Of course, it was amazing and I am really looking forward to going one Christmas.


Four Days into our Trip we finally made it to "Big City" Washington DC.
We stayed within one mile of The Mall, which I wouldn't recommend. When I say that transportation and parking is a nightmare, I mean it. If I had it to do over again, I would stay at a less expensive hotel twenty miles outside of DC. I would drive to Arlington Cemetery and I would pay whatever they are charging to ride the tour buses to all of Washington DC sites. They drop you off in front of whatever you want to see then you hop back on. We didn't do any of this. We walked the first day, for miles and miles with a four year old, who by this time has decided he has seen enough of "Big City". We managed to see a few museums and decided to head back to our hotel. Another problem with Washington DC, there are no restaurants within the vicinity of the mall (barring bars) that are open after 5:00 pm. There are hotel restaurants, which I have yet to find one that is kid-friendly. We didn't know this so we walked and walked... and three hours later decided, kid-friendly (or budget friendly) or not to eat at our hotel. Daniel promptly passed out as we waited for our food.

The next day, again not wanting to deal with public transportation, we decided to leave our hotel and park close to the mall. (yes, I know, you told me so...) The thing about DC parking is there is street parking, but you cannot park on the street until 9:00 after rush hour, so guess what people do... They drive around the mall playing musical cars for 30 minutes before 9:00. At 9:00 on the dot you either park or you are out of luck. We, by a miracle, managed to get the very best (one of only 40 or so) that actually let you park until 4:00 PM. All the rest are only two hour spots. We managed to see the Washington Monument, the Lincoln and Jefferson Memorials as well as the rest of the Smithsonian museums. I did miss the Library of Congress. I have to say Washington DC is awe inspiring and not something I will forget any time soon. I am so glad that we decided to make this trip. We stayed two solid days and could have easily spent a year.

   The next day, as we were leaving, we stopped at Arlington Cemetery and finally, my favorite, Mount Vernon. Mount Vernon was George Washington's private home on the Potomac and it is not to be missed. The museum is fantastic. The boys loved seeing his teeth! Another note on DC, whoever first said "I walked uphill both ways in the snow to school," must have lived there.

We headed back home through Tennessee, which just happens to be where my sister lives. It was the first time we got to use our tent the whole trip, as we got to camp in her yard, right next to the creek. Matthew found a Geode, which when we broke it open was better than any souvenir we bought the whole trip. It sparkled and will make a nice show and tell for school. We really enjoyed getting to visit with my sister, since she's so far from home now. She made sure to show us the town while we were there. We managed to see Nashville and Memphis, as we listened to Mark Cohan and Alanna Miles.

We were gone a total of twelve days and I have to say that my boys were amazing. They were attentive and interested. Nobody missed the TV or video games or toys(much). I know that they are young, but I do hope they always look back on these memories with fondness.

I have to say this about our country as we battle through tough times and turmoil. America truly is amazing, the people, the mountains, the oceans, the food, the music as well as the monuments that define us. I am so proud to be an American.

New to Blogger

Although I've had my Blogger account for two years, I have always kept my blogs on Myspace. I have decided to transfer a few of them here and hopefully I'll be able to post more soon. Please forgive me if my posts seem messy or misaligned, the Myspace editing features were not as friendly as these are. I have managed to spend a perfect Saturday morning setting up this page and now it's time to enjoy the rest of my weekend, as I hope you do as well!

K

My Pet Peeve of the Millenium

My Pet Peeve of the Millenium - Forced self checkouts...

Let me explain.

It was 11:00 last night after taking the boys fishing when we decided that we really needed some groceries. Kroger was right around the corner, so we ran in and grabbed two kid sized carts, one for each kid. They are perfect for keeping the kids occupied, other than all the extra food you have when you get home. (honey, did you buy the 6 pack of cracker-jacks?), but I digress.

We made our way through the store and completely filled up our carts. When we make our way to the registers, we notice something! Not a human being in sight. Let me rephrase, not a human kroger employee in sight. There were other people with carts of groceries wandering around in a daze, realizing they had just possibly wasted an hour of their lives filling a cart with no one to take their money at the end of the trip.

Joe and I, although we despise them, head to the only area with lights...The Dreaded Self-Checkout Lane. We start scanning our items one by one bagging them while the machine hyperventilates if you don't place said item in bag within .5 seconds to be properly weighed to deter thieves. (Here's a hint, kroger, if you don't want your stuff stolen, get a real person to check us out.) Oh, oh fruit, how do you scan fruit! Item lookup, that's how. What, no fruit sticker! agghhh.

Meanwhile... Daniel has taken his little human cart and headed to the dreaded toy and candy aisle. What, is that an employee I see, eyeing my son suspiciously as he loads up his little human cart? How about you come up here to check me out? Again, I digress.

There are four bags on four weighers to stack all your groceries into. We have loaded all four bags full and have begun stacking stuff precariously around and on top of them. As I hold a can of peas contemplating whether to try stacking it or giving up on vegetables all together, the machine threatens to call an attendent. Please, call one, please! We wait and wait. 15 minutes later the machine gives up on said attendant (10 minutes past my giving up) and I manage to stack one more can on top of our bags. We manage to finally get the Kroger machine to TAKE our money.

Thank God, I didn't have coupons that night, as I cannot imagine what is involved in that process.

Next time I will find a manager and demand a 10% employee discount for scanning my own groceries. (along with healthcare and a 401K)

Now, about Home Depot....

Science Mayhem and Bookfair Humor

So this week I've spent volunteering at Matthews school book fair. Kid's are so funny. They will spend an hour trying to pick out a 45 cent pencil, get 5 cent's in change and want to know whhhyyy they can't buy the 10 dollar comic book. And if they have two dollars in change they will buy 1 bookmark at a time until every last spendable penny is spent. I love these kids. :)

Me to a first grader: Hi Calvin!
Calvin: Hi Matthews mom!
Me:Calvin, do you like super-heroes?
Calvin: No Ma'am
Me: Do you like animals?
Calvin: no ma'am
Me: How about a book on ScoobyDoo?
Calvin: No Ma'am
Me: Calvin, what do you like?
Calvin: Mushrooms...
Me: Calvin, buy Scooby Doo.
Calvin: Thanks Matthew's mom.

Then there's the one about the little girl and monopoly money....

Overheard
Librarian to blond haired student returning a book: Honey did you enjoy this book?
Student: Yes ma'am, I did!
Librarian: Did you notice that it was is in Spanish?
Student: It was?!?

5 year old angel girl: My mommy want's me to buy a ms Patsy book
Me: Ms Patsy book, sweetheart? I don't think we have one. Did your mom want Ms Massy to help you maybe?
angel girl: My mommy says it's on the top shelf.
Me: Honey, your mommy will be in to work with me this afternoon. Maybe you should come back then and we'll ask her.
angel girl 5 minutes later: I remembered! My mommy want's me to buy Fancy Nancy!
Me: Yea! Here you go, Angel girl. You did so well remembering. :)

Meanwhile during the week, I did a science project for Matt's class. ( I'm a nerd) We put a raw egg in vinegar overnight in the teachers lounge. The next day, we examined the egg and the shell was completely dissolved, the egg being held together by the rubbery membrane. When you shook it, you could see the yolk move! Those of you who have been to my house at easter have seen this done. Anyway, the kids loved it. As I was leaving the classroom, I overheard all the kids telling Matthew that he had the Coolest Mom Ever. Now that, is better than a Nobel prize. Afterward, we put the egg into water and set it on the counter overnight. By the next day, the egg had expanded to at least twice the original size due to water absorbing into the membrane. Awesome. I just hope it doesn't explode until tomorrow, so they can see it. After all, you have to have an explosion to be a real scientist, or so the boys tell me. By the way, the teachers were not to crazy about the science experiment in their refrigerator.

After school, we took the boys to see Bolt. Funny, funny.
Bolt: Shh, there's the guard!
Hamster: I'll snap his neck.

I love being a mom.

P.S. Tomorrow is the Fallin for family festival from 10 to 2 at Matt's school. I think it's open to everyone and the book fair will be open if you're looking for Christmas presents. Come by.... Erin, this means you. :)

YHVH - Behold the Name. Behold the Nail

Stress seems to be my middle name these days. My dad is in the hospital following another heart attack. Joe calls this afternoon stranded after his work van broke down. Turns out the fuel pump is out, which means two days of downtime and cost for repairs. Christmas is around the corner with taxes nipping at it's heels. School needs, party plans, it all seems unending. As I began hyperventilating this afternoon, I began to pray for God to show me His plans. For Him to tell me that He would handle it IF I just let it all go into His heart for a while. I believe this, I truly do. I have seen it happen many times, and yet it is never easy to pass on the burden.

With all this, I have been having a Crisis of Faith, not so much a crisis of faith exactly, but a need to explore Jesus as a Jew. A want to know that side of Him and to respect it fully, without disparage. I feel as if, without that, my faith isn't complete.

Anyway, in the moments before sheer panic set in, I sat down at my computer and looked up my favorite author of all time - Athol Dickson, for no other reason than a desire to do so. I found the following article on the meaning of GOD's true name. It startled me. Please bear with the author to the very end paying close attention to the last three paragraphs.
-------------------------------------------------------------

""I am still amazed by something a friend emailed to me yesterday, a quote from a devotional called Behold and Be Held, the Memorial Name of God, by Aaron Rabin. I can't find this devotional on the web, or I would link to it. I won't quote the whole thing here, lest I infringe on Mr. Rabin's copyright. So I'll just get to the bottom line.


In the devotional, Mr. Rabin refers to the tetragrammaton, YHVH. This is the most holy name of God, given to Moses at the burning bush, the one that most English translations render as “I AM”. The Hebrew letters sound like "Yud Hey Vav Hey". YHVH is also the "forgotten" name of God, which Jews say has a meaning and a pronunciation that was lost because their ancestors have refused to speak it aloud since about a generation before the Roman destruction of the temple in Jerusalem. (To learn more about this, visit this site, and scroll down to "The Name".) Today YHVH is most often rendered as "Yahweh" when written or spoken by Christians and others. It is still never pronounced aloud by Orthodox Jews. “Jehovah” is an older, less accurate rendition. YHVH is also the name most often printed as the LORD (all caps) in English Bibles. (Sometimes "Adonai" is translated that way as well.)


Anyway, in his devotional Mr. Rabin refers to a conversation he had with an Orthodox rabbi, which drove him to question his Christian faith. Here is a quote:


"As I spoke to the Orthodox rabbi and used the Scriptures to support my faith, I felt like a child in a highchair trying to explain the theory of relativity to Albert Einstein. He called me an apostate Jew, accusing me not of finding Messiah but of embracing a pagan religion. He wielded the Scriptures like a sharp sword, slicing my faith - and my heart - into smaller and smaller pieces.

"My testimony, which had always been to me like a beautiful stained glass window that I could gaze at to see the power of God's saving grace, now seemed like a pile of broken glass. My faith was in crisis. I knelt and pleaded with God to restore the joy of His salvation in me."


This is very like the crisis I felt myself after spending years studying the Torah with several rabbis in my home town. (You can read about it here.) Like me, Mr. Rabin turned to the Lord and to the Bible. In the midst of his search for truth, he says the Holy Spirit led him to the story of the burning bush, and the secret name of God, YHVH.


Mr. Rabin investigated the ideographic meaning of the Hebrew letters Yud Hey Vav Hey. An ideogram is a symbol that represents an idea, like those little male and female shaped signs you see on the outside of public restroom doors. This is similar--but not identical--to the Chinese written system, or ancient Egyptian hieroglyphics. Hebrew letters have had ideographic meanings since ancient times. (Learn more here). I knew this, but I never thought to check the tetragrammaton against those meanings as Mr. Rabin did. When I verified his assertion here, here and here, I was amazed. There are several ideographic meanings for each of the letters. Hey, for example can mean both "window", and "look" or "behold". Vav can mean "hook", "peg", or "nail". But in each case the ideas represented by the letters are closely related. With all of this in mind, using the ideographic meanings of Yud Hey Vav Hey most commonly accepted by Jewish scholars throughout the centuries, I found they absolutely match Rabin's translation.


Symbolically speaking, the most holy name of God, YHVH, can indeed be translated as:

 "Behold, the hand. Behold, the nail." ""

He's no Prince Charming...

... and I'm definately not Cinderella!
Our fourteenth anniversary is coming up in a few weeks and I always take the time to reflect on where we are in our relationship. Love ISN'T a fairy tale. I'm not saying this in disrespect of our relationship. Just the opposite, in fact. The truth is, it isn't always perfect. We sometimes take each other for granted. HE doesn't pick up his socks and I am terrible at getting the laundry done (or the dishes, in fact).WE are both too easily frustrated with our kids. (Poor kids) HE can't make a plan to save his life. I can't take out the trash.

That being said, I love him. Like a love song. It is such a give and take thing and sometimes its a love and hate thing. Our lives are wrapped up in each other. Everything we've been through, we've been through together. Its beautiful to step back and see everything woven together, as it was meant to be. The ups and downs and always having someone to look to in those moments of despair. I hope my kids see that their Daddy, dirty socks and all, is THE love of my life.




Reason # 10,000

What did you do all day today, honey?

Sometimes, when Joe gets home from work, he likes to ask me how my day was. Not in the form of "Did you survive?",but in the form of "Honey, what did you do today?"

For some reason, I always take this to be a negative statement.

What I hear is " They are only two little boys,

Why isn't dinner ready?,

Are those really your pajamas?

I realize as he asks this question, that I can't really answer,yet I am exhausted from something.

What did I do today?

Joes out fishing today, so I've decided to play a little game.

Instead of mindlessly picking up all the little messes that occur during my day, I am going to let them accumulate and then

I am going to take pictures of them when normally I would pick up, mop up, or vacuum said mess.

I will also try to avoid the word NO unless there is impending danger. I intend to do this until right after lunch and Daniel's down for a nap.

It all started with a box of Trix that Matthew helped Daniel obtain by standing on the counter-top

They then proceeded to carry them to the living room, whereupon, Daniel decides that they are better eaten straight off the floor, thereby turning the full box of said cereal over, spilling all of it's contents onto my carpet.

Daniel looks up at me and says "mess"

 OK, this is going to be easier than I thought, harder too, because I have to somehow

manage to keep the boys from smashing cereal into the carpet without saying NO.

Not that That ever works anyway...

So I decide I will begin lunch quickly. Walking into the living room, I notice that Daniel has once again pulled everything out of the TV cabinet.  

I direct Daniel into the kitchen as I cook. Daniel steps into the refrigerator (yes, I said into) and retrieves two puddings and a holey serving spoon from the drawer. He never manages to grab a normal spoon. (Last week, I found him sitting in the middle of a dozen eggs. He looks up at me and says "mess")

Lunch (raviolis with red sauce anyone?) is served. Mess is made, coke is spilled and yea, I made it!

I have to draw the line at putting Daniel in his bed covered in red sauce, so I hose him down, give him a kiss and carry him into his bedroom, stepping over a million toys (and don't forget the Trix) on the way.

I change his diaper Again (don't ask) and put him to bed.

I know, you're thinking there seems to be a whole lot of Daniel and very little Matthew. That's true, however, the Halloween costume and toys laying on the floor was from Matt just last night right before bed (I didn't even bother). The shoes right in front of the couch, Joe's.

Mind you, I make my own messes, but that isn't the topic today, is it?

Ok, well, I have a living room to clean.

Oh, and all this reminds me that I really, really love my boys.

My dirty, smelly, messy, silly, sweet, little boys.

So thats what I do all day, honey.

The living room is clean, just as daniel wakes up,

but the kitchen...

This election season, I am tired of hearing...

.. it's a womans body, she should have the right to do as she wishes about her reproductive organs. I am not talking about your reproductive organs when I say I am Pro-life (anti-choice, as planned parenthood refers to it). Remove them if you wish, That's your right, take a birth CONTROL pill, that's your right, abstain, that's your right. I will stand by my belief, however, that what an abortion does is end another life. It isn't your life that's removed after all, but that of another. Do not say it's a part of me, therefore it IS me and I can remove it as an appandage.


¶ Funny thing is, most pro choice abortion programs will try to use the Christian or religious definition of a soul to define when life begins. I don't think any scientist would deny that a human life begins when it has the ability to replicate it's cells, multiplying and growing. After 21 days, it's heart is pumping blood of it's own unique blood type, completely separate than that of the babies mother. All organs are in place soon thereafter. How much more "alive" can you get? Do not use God to define a life, then deny God has the right to create a life.

¶Then there is the standard, "If I were raped..." Less than 2 percent of abortions are done due to rape. Furthermore, there have been studies stating that victims of rape that chose to keep their babies actually fare better mentally because something good came out of a horrible situation. This isn't to say that I would EVER want to make that decision, nor do I think that abortion should be completely taken off the table completely. The problem is, if you only let rape victims have an abortion, then everyone becomes rape victims and innocent men will be sent to prison, therefore everyone should be able to have one.

¶The truth is, 90 percent of abortions are done as a lifestyle choice, meaning that the mom had sex, got pregnant, but did not want to BE pregnant. 1 in 4 pregnancy's end in abortion. That is 1.5 million abortions in the united states annually, only 20% of which are under 20, So stop blaming it on the teenagers. 47% are repeat abortions. Why, when birth control is so easy to obtain, are there so many women having lifestyle choice abortions?

¶ I know that abortion may have a place in our society, just don't try to define away what it is. Maybe it should be left of the table for those extreme and horrible situations. I wouldn't wish that decision on anyone and I do not condemn any woman who has made that decision. However it should, never, ever be of no consequence.

¶ What some pro choice advocates want in regards to expanding abortion: Abortions available to ANY age without parental consent. Is (or was) legal in 14 states Late term abortions as far as into the early 3rd trimester.

¶This is a good article link on the subject if you're interested. www.prolifephysicians.org

For a long time, I always assumed that it was a small problem, within a womans rights to make a responsible decision. When I started learning what the procedure involves, how many are being done, and the lengths that planned parenthood and similar organizations go to in order to continue the expansion, I became ashamed of not knowing what I thought I knew.

What upsets me the most is the attempt to devalue the mother and child bond during pregnancy. I knew within days, that I was pregnant both times. It drove my doctor crazy that I came in so quickly. They were people and my job was to grow them until they were ready to come into the world. To say they were not of value until they breathed their first breath is an insult to them, to me and to God. Planned parenthood gets infuriated when people bring up Scott and Lacey Peterson. They did not want to see him convicted of two murders because it undermined their claim that it was a fetus and not a baby. I could go on and on...

They are also adamant that a girl as young as thirteen should have an abortion without parental consent. What kind of world do we live in that a girl cannot get her ears pierced without consent, but abortion is ok? The important thing is to keep an open dialog and to understand the issue.

Our Lucky Number 13 Anniversary

It will be thirteen years since we promised to Love, Honor and Cherish (Obey, Hah). There has been sickness and health, richer and poorer , but through it all, I love him more now than ever.

Just this week, with my moms memorial, I realize how much Joe does for our little family. He has been my rock through the years and this week was no exception. He arranged my moms roses when I didn't have the strength to face the task. They were perfection, honoring mom and in turn honoring the relationship that she had with Joe. There was so much that he has done to help me get through her passing that I can't begin to write them all.

I have been flipping through all the letters that he has written over the years, to me, to our boys, and I am amazed at the depth of my feeling for him as I see the love he has for us. How is it that he can be so forgiving when I'm not on my best behavior? How can he look past my many flaws as if I were flawless?

He is also an amazing daddy to our two little men, teaching them all that they need to know as they grow in his image. Teaching them love , respect, and the importance of hard work, yet the value of family time.

I am quite lucky to have him as my partner. Walking beside me through all that life may throw at us.

I have what is known as Mommy Brain

I've discovered something about being a mom. There have been studies that make what I'm about to say fact. The official terminology is "Mommy Brain"

My I.Q. has always been a respectable 135-140. I know because, every few years, I've taken one, starting when I was in School. After having Matthew, I took one online and discovered it had dropped to 132. Disapponting, but I could live with it. I don't know why it's always been so important to me, but it has.

Daniel is now one and I've been feeling a bit out of sorts lately. Slower and more confused. The back of a cereal box has become quantum physics. I decided to get back online and take another I.Q. test. Three I.Q tests later and my suspicions were confirmed! It is now 110! That is 22 points, shocking isn't it! I've read that "Mommy Brain" is caused by learning all the new skills needed for raising a child. Changing them, feeding them, keeping them from sticking a cheerio up their nose. Is there really not enough room in my brain for this without thowing out what's already in there? I've realized that if I continue having children, before long, I will be "The Missing Link"