Days Gone By....

I play a game on another blog, apples to apples. This time the instruction was to write a short story on days gone by...thinking of new years reflections of yesterday. I'd like to post here what I wrote there...


DAYS GONE BY.....

sitting on the floor, criss cross applesauce, she gazed into the blinking lights of the christmas tree...

bright lights of red, yellow, green and blue, blinking in tune to "we wish you a merry christmas" drew her into a hypnotic gaze....

she looked down at the presents under the tree. The giant life size barbie smiled back at her surreally. There was a hess truck, ready to go, parked next to boxes wrapped in pretty paper and ribbons. The was another truck filled with chocolate candies...

and she remembered, a different christmas eve; a christmas that seemed so long ago.

with a tree that barely had any lights at all and a scattering of ornaments which had been hand made from paper.

with a Tonka dump truck also filled with chocolate candies. christmas ball candies wrapped in tinfoil colors of red, white and green...

gifts under the tree from Santa waiting for a two year old to pitter patter down the stairs...

she had laid on the sofa that night, wanting to fall asleep but couldn't. The anticipation of the baby's expression with all the gifts she managed to get for him was keeping her awake.

She had begged, borrowed and stoled as the saying goes to get all the dreams she had for this little one.

A single parent working part time at college barely managing to get the bills paid, never really having enough for the bills, the food and the bus fare to get around.

But she did it!

She got him a small table and chair set, had her father buy him some music sing a long videos, signed up for donations with the local red cross toy drive.

and christmas was here.

feet came piddle paddle down the stairs.
"ma ma?" she heard him ask.

"here I am baby, ma ma is down here on the couch. Santa Claus came!'

she was surprised to learn that the two year old didn't really seem to know what that meant.

He just wanted to climb in her lap and watch the christmas lights on the tree.

She got up and gave him a present, "open this one, open it quick, see what Santa brought!"

The little toddler climbed out of her lap and pushed the present away. His eyes were drawn to the dump truck with bright shiny balls in the back.

He toddled over to the truck, sat down in his clumsey, new at walking kind of way; and played with the chocolate candies as if they were the greatest little bright balls that ever existed.

The bag had cost 99 cents.

He kept playing with his new balls as she went from anxiously wanting him to rip open all his gifts to resigning that well, christmas if for him, and if those 99cent bag of chocolate balls brought him joy; she would let him have joy.

She got up and started her household chores. After dinner that night, she tucked a blanket over him as he slept next to the tree on the floor, beside all the presents that hadn't been opened.

She reached down to kiss him goodnight, as he stirred, she saw a ball held tight in each hand; smushing chocolate all over his fingers. Only in his sleep had the chocolate found it's freedom from the wrappers.

19 years later she sat here looking at the new dump truck filled with candies for the new toddler. A different baby, a different father, a different time.

Now there was money, now there would be enough food; enough for the 20 guests that had just joined them for christmas eve dinner. Tomorrow there would be siblings shouting with joy in the morning and a daddy lovingly watching.

This year there was a tree decorated with plenty of lights, plenty of beautiful ornaments...and yet still some hand made paper ones remained.

Those are my favorite ones, she thought.

and she laughed to herself as she looked at the mountains of gifts for the children. She had again spent way too much money, and wondered at the lesson lost from the toddler before.

She had again, not been able to stop shopping after purchasing a simple bag of shiny balls, perhaps saving the money for a later day.

Now, after all these years, after all these children, she knew that even though it was the simplest gifts that touched the hearts of children....

it was her heart she was touching to be a generous Santa Claus..

giving because she knew now, 19 years later, that those precious simple pitter patter days really do vanish much too quickly like the old people had told her.

Before falling asleep on the couch again, like she had for 20 years on christmas eve; she looked at a handmade paper christmas ornament swinging above the new dump truck with tinfoil wrapped chocolate candies...and lovingly remembered days gone by...


Merry christmas everyone.

Why I believe in Santa Claus

Brian over here:
http://thecheekofgod.wordpress.com/2008/12/25/saint-anonymous/

reminded me of a different time in my life.

These days I haven't posted in a while because I am busy....

busy baking gingerbread houses, watching ballerinas dance to the nutcracker, wrapping presents, handing out gifts, lauging and taking pictures.

I'll post them soon.....

but Brian's post led me to remember,

it was a season of being poor. real poor. my state welfare check was 525. a month, the rent was 490. there were no extras. half the time, there was no basic needs.

i would take the dollar foodstamp, go to the grocery store, buy a pack of peanutbutter cheese crackers for .35- to get the change left over for the city bus. i would have to go back on line over and over again. i needed the cash to pay for my fare, to finish college, to climb out of this hellhole of poverty.

i would rotate paying the phone bills and electric bills every other month to avoid shut off. never paying the entire amount, just the basic bill to keep the utitlities on.

i had no money for toliet paper or sanitary napkins, that was my biggest ache.

i was never really good at keeping my house clean, those years it was worse. i suppose social services should have taken my child just because of the state of my home. i was running to transfer 4 buses each day, toddler in tow, to finish school to make a better life for me and him. running to class, running to daycare, running...and never really catching up with anything.

and christmas would come.

i would let him go to his father's for christmas because i had nothing much for the tree- and wanting him to experience "family" and christmas like every other child. so he would go to his grandmothers upper middle class home, with the trees, the christmas shows, and all the gifts....great big wonderful gifts....and food...and most of all; love of family surrounding him.

oh, i loved him. i loved him more than anyone. i would find a way to beg, borrow and sometimes steal to get those special little things he dreamed off...and we would go to christmas lights that were free....and sit under the tree gazing at the lights.

santa is real.

one year we moved three times from apartment to apartment. getting kicked out for having too messy of a house, getting kicked out because i had a male friend (not a boyfriend) sleep over that was black and my landlord almost died of a heart attack from his racist mind, and one because i just couldn't let the landlord grab my behind one more time...

so we moved, and we moved and we moved....at one point we were in a homeless shelter- the day after christmas. that was the racist landlord that kicked me out the week of christmas because he didn't want girls like me living in his homes; what would the neighbors think of him?

the following year, i moved to a little apartment above a deli that was on the cove of wethersfield. i took less transit busses to get to school at st. joseph's college. i started to take my son (4 now) to the congregational church after he had a bad reaction to his grandfather dying. (real bad, he thought when they buried him that he was in the sewers with the teenage mutant ninja turtles).

we lived in wethersfield Connecticut- one of the affluent towns in our state with old charming history. we walked to the First Church of Christ every Sunday, with our cat in tow like a puppy. i started to volunteer to teach Sunday school and meet other families. i left my paganism behind me and returned to the roots of my childhood in hopes of security for my son's life.

and then christmas came.

Wealthy families in church that wanted to share their love. one woman who worked at Aetna Insurance had their company adopt us.

i never told anyone about the toliet paper and sanitary napkin heartache of poverty.

santa knew.

that year i had presents galore, stacked up in my living room for myself and my son. i had food baskets, canned goods, toys, clothes...and little treats that make christmas special. i had a wall mountain of toliet paper, no lie. my kitchen wall had toliet paper stacked from floor to ceiling- because every gift giver had included a large package of it.

that year, i kept my son home and we walked to christmas eve service at that beautiful church; i cried and thanked God.

the poinsettas in the assembly, the beautiful hymns, the church bells ringing,
and the loving faces of my church family surrounding us.

I LOVE christmas, and Santa is really real.....

thanks for letting me share.
thanks to Brian, for helping me stop and remember what christmas is really about.

MERRY CHRISTMAS EVERYBODY

An Ode to my son's teacher

WHAT my son's teacher does....an ode to Ms. Debbie.

My son's teacher wakes up each day to go to work, just like you and I.
my son's teacher gets her two children off to school, just like you and I.
like some of you, she is a single parent and does this on her own.

my son's teacher gets to school earlier than other teachers,
because my son and his friends have to get to school before the rest of the kids.
some of them can't handle big buses.
some of them can't handle lots of kids, bells, and teachers directions in the hall.
my son is one of them.

my son's teacher has a schedule to follow,
scratch that.
my son's teacher has 5 schedules to follow
because each child is in a different grade,
has a different IEP,
has a different set of educational needs.

my son's teacher has two paraprofessionals.
so she has to know their schedules,
lunch times, break times and needs.

my son's teacher has a lesson to teach.
scratch that.
my son's teacher has 5 lessons to teach.
because, well, you know, there are 5 different kids in her class.

my son's teacher has LEGAL, law binding, I E Ps to follow
5 of them.
and I can hardly understand the implementation expectations of 1.

my son's teacher has BOARD OF ED requirements to meet.
hey guess what, some of her kids aren't meeting state standards.
can you believe it?
a non verbal child with autism can't read at grade level,
and that is a bad thing according to statistics.

my son's teacher has parent teacher conferences.
scratch that.
she has conferences plus weekly meetings with parents,
plus support groups,
plus communication folders,
behavior phone calls,
PPTs, annual, bi annual and in between.

my son's teacher can plan during "specials"
scratch that.
each child goes to a special with their "regular grade"
so someone is always in class.

my son's teacher can plan during "lunch"
scratch that.
my son's teacher sits with a child or two who
can't eat in the cafetaria and teaches them
appropriate behavioral skills for dining.

my son's teacher loves to teach.
over and over and over and over.
much like groundhog day for the elmentary kid.
because kids like my son, have to learn things
over and over and over and over.

my son's teacher uses a behavior modification program.
scratch that.
yeah, she has 5 different ones.
scratch that,
the clinicians have just decided to change the program.
scratch that.
they've changed it again.
scratch that.
they gonna change it every month to keep it fresh.

my son's teacher loves the hugs she gets.
scratch that.
if she is giving a therapeutic hug it is because my son
is standing on a table
kicking her
or throwing chairs across the room

my son's teacher gets a break.
scratch that.
there is a time out room when my son needs a break.

my son's teacher gets out early because our children are on
modified programs.
scratch that.
she attends meetings all afternoon, every day, while my son is
riding the bus home.

my son's teacher loves to talk on the phone.
she must.
she has to call parents almost daily.

my son's teacher gets sworn at with no apparent
"antecendent"....yeah, that's the term for what
triggers a behavior.

My son's teacher deserves whatever the school district pays her.
whatever days off she can take to sleep.
whatever medical benefits her family can have.
whatever vacation days she needs.

because I need her.

and like my son will tell her, if he is having a good day,

"Miss Debbie, you are the Best teacher in the whole world"

and frankly, she is not the first one, nor the only one.


Yours,

the mother of the most incredible and wonderful boy.

HAPPY THANKSGIVING

I am thankful for.....



being able to prepare for thanksgiving,

by making cornucopia breads with my children's classes,

for each child to take one to their own home,

kindergarteners and 8 year olds,



and teachers too.....

and even one for our own table.

Life is good. Happy Thanksgiving.

E E G

E E G

means "leave me alone!"

today for no reason that feels important enough to me, i held my son's hand as he was strapped to an E E G machine.

a child who abhors the light touch of tickle, was asked to quietly lay down as a technician marked circles with a red marker all over his head while measuring the distance between marks.

she then lightly put glue on those red spots.

and then attached what she called a mini camera to those glue spots.

and then wrapped his head with gauze to hold in all in place.

and then remembered to attach two more of those electodes to his chest.

then proceeded to put a light over his eyes that flashed furiously.

and then asked him to be quiet now and go to sleep.

as i lay down on the hospital bed next to him, he asked,

"why am I hooked up to cameras?"
"WHY can't I talk ?"
"why did they put cameras near my nipples"

and i couldn't answer him because the nurse told me to ignore him. i squeezed his hand three times; our secret message; I LOVE YOU.

at which point he sat up and yelled,
"ok, this is a little too freaky"
"NO ONE CAN SLEEP IN A STRANGE BED WITH WIRES ON THEIR HEADS"
"Ok mom, I'm done, we can go home now."

"I'm SERIOUS"

"H E L L O is anyone out there? This is too weird for me!"

at which point i sighed, the nurse walked in and asked him to drink the anesthesialike stuff.

which he informed me smelled like ROBITUSSIN.

which he refuses to allow in the house.

which then I had to leave and get DAD.

which caused everyone to hold him down to give him the stuff.

and as he was falling asleep, not allowed to talk, pointed with his finger to the air and spelled,

M O M.

his secret message that he just invented for dad to go and get me.

which dad was not allowed to do because the nurse said so.

but when he fell asleep, mom went in.

and they recorded his brainwaves.

even though he has never had a seizure.

that i know of.

and they gave him a cute bear.

and now we are on our way to celebrate his good job with chinese food.

the medical community needs to leave him A L O N E.

he knows more than them.

Wires on heads don't make a good time to nap.

Choices

"It is our choices that reveal who we are far more than our abilities." - Dumbledore from Harry Potter


it is a quote written on the magic marker board in my son's class. a class of 6 children with various abilities and disabilities. a quote that i found so profound that i am typing it here and putting it up on a wall at work. i work in a residential treatment center for teen boys. i read the series last year with these boys and somehow missed it. so now i find myself pondering the choices that i have made that reveal far more about who I am than any strengths or gifts that i claim to posess.

FAMILY COAT OF ARMS

in browsing through my photos this morning, I came across this photo that my oldest has downloaded to my computer.

my oldest is a history addict and in particular is interested in his family history.

he tells me that this family coat of arms is old because of it's colors and simplicity. (he also looked dates up on line but don't tell him I told you so)

It amazes me watching him research with such intricate detail the early formings of my father's family.

When he talks about history- albiet the male's version- he becomes alive and animated. He knows his wars, his weapons, his rulers, his governments, and the people of those times.

He actually makes me want to delve into history and learn.

The other day he asked me if it bothered me that he get this coat of arms tatooed on his arm....

TATOOED?

he's not a tattoo kind of kid...or maybe it's me that isn't a tattoo kind of mom.

He is 21 years old- I don't recall ever asking my parents for an opinion at that age. Frankly, it could be worse, he could be wanting to tattoo a girls name on his arm. I consider myself lucky.

Dysfunctional before dysfunctional was "in"

Dysfunctional before dysfunctional was "in".

care to join me on a ramble about my childhood?

dysfunctional; that's what my family was. as a little girl in a neigborhood where homes stood so close together you could pass sugar between neighbors without leaving your kitchen.

the homes were built in the early 70's, starter homes, they were called.

everyone who lived there were working class; i.e. poor. poor white trash but i didn't know it at the time. the rest of my town did.

my family? we were the poorest in that poor neighborhood, it seemed. we were definitely treated different than others, some parents didn't even let their kids play with us.

as an parent, i have come to know why.

my parents were products of the 60s.

my mother and father drove a light blue VW Bug.

They were in the "indulged" generation whose parents were WWII and depression survivors.

I have heard them referred to as the "me" generation.

Having said that, some levels of "me" are just a little too, well, "ME".

My parents were best friends with the next door neighbors. They had a daughter and son, the girl was one year my junior, the son was only months older than my brother. The two families became close friends.

and then some things started happening. I am not sure exactly what, being I was about 5 years old, innocent and in love with my parents.

my father started to see the woman next door. I am told he was confused at first because while he lived with my friend's mother at the local ski resort; my sister was conceived by my mother.

eventually, he chose the neighbor's wife.....standing at the door one day with his guitar in one hand telling me that he would never see me again.

I remember the pain. the tears. and my little brother's hands holding mine tightly.

It didn't seem long before we had to move.

next door.

Seems my mother was having a baby by that woman's husband; and they were getting married.

the girl next door and I were best friends and in our innocence, overjoyed about becoming "sisters".

Memories of my youngest brother being born are fond. Moving to the other school district as our homes were on "the line" weren't so fond. Missing my father and his family created an ache in my heart. My new step father never seemed to like me nearly as much as he idolized his children, that he was raising with my mother because their mother left them to live with my father.

insanity.

bad boundaries.

a family that if I met them today, I would not let my children play at their home.

There are just too many things that cause a red flag.

so today, some 35 years later, I wish I could tell you that everyone grew up and all is well.

they didn't.

they are still wounded, sick and stuck in that teenage mindset that they were way back then.

When I read stories about dysfunctional families...or see them on t.v.; a part of me says,
"hey babe, you don't know dysfunction" and I wonder why now it seems like people brag about their lives in this way?

mine was a horrible secret. a family i was ashamed to be a part of. a face i was ashamed to look at in the mirror. a life i tried to run far from.

dysfunctional before dysfunctional was cool.

and one generation above them?

there really wasn't that much dysfunction. Normal every day people problems. my mother was a military brat and hated moving around the country. BUT both my parents came from island families...generations of relatives living on Martha's Vineyard. Large extended families full of love and stories....it's that family that has kept me somewhat connected to sanity.

Lately, I dream about the social changes that the 60s fought for, I cheer the new FDR we have in office, I hope for return to a path of freedom for people....but there is a part of me that hangs on tightly; because some change can is painful for others.

The "me" movement instead of the "establishment" was much needed....but it is my opinion that there needs to be balance. Taking care of "Me" without respect to social norms should never be about neglecting children in your care; or causing pain to others for your gain.

It wasn't the divorce, or remarriage that made my life painful growing up; contrary to what the christian right would say. Nor the 60's lack of values and merge towards social changes. It wasn't secret affairs nor visits on Saturdays with dad.

It was the pain turned into hatred within the adults in my life that hurt my childhood. Selfishness to levels of insanity. Selfishness to levels where humans became monsters; not caring about the little eyes that looked to them trustingly and adoringly. Using children in a chess match to prove to the other set that they (the new couple) were better than the other couple. Seriously. moments where that insantity manifested by visitations ending well past the court orders. moments were one couple are screaming at the other couple in the car as children are piling in or out. a particular moment where my step brother was pulled; one arm by my mother, the other by his mother. the women screaming at each other that he was "their" child. my mother telling her that she abandoned him because she didn't care; his mother yelling at her that she gave birth to him but had to leave because of domestic abuse. adults telling teenagers that they left because the other spouse was a better sex partner. moments in hell.


I guess I ramble outloud to let the reader be ware. Fight for CHANGE. Change is needed. Just look at eyes looking at you for answers about their identity in your lives as their parents. Remember covenants that you make, outloud and silent ones. Remember most importantly that change should be about us lifting up; empowering each other. As soon as we step on another for any reason; we have walked off the path of change for the betterment of society....

EGO SUM

that is one phrase I remember from Latin in ninth grade.

It means, "I AM"

I also remember other things...

Cultural things that our teacher told us about the Greek Civilization.
Historial things like the volcano of Pompeii.

I remember learning that our language has its meaning from early latin/greek origins.

I remember being told that the Greek word Familia..

meant anything that a man owned, including his wife, animals, house, and children.

I remember learning that it was a patriarchal and patri-lineal society.

and we read some love poems...

but they weren't for their wives.

No, their wives were kept in their homes with their children,animals and belongings..

they were for their "lovers"; other men.

Men were worshipped, revered, loved and honored.

So I come to the crux of this thought process...because that is what blogging is for me.

On my previous post, I quoted a scripture.

Of course I realized that the men being referred to had little to do with homosexuality.

seriously.

Maybe I come across on my blog as simple, but I like to talk simply and be direct. I am not totally uneducated.

My point is however, that languages and cultures have shaped our current culture and values.

Especially our spiritual ones.

I pose questions to get us to think.

There really are people who take scriptures literal...and leave things out when it pleases them to do so.

that's all.

Let's all think, talk, and encourage growth.

as my kids at work would say, "it's all good."

Two Men in One Bed? Luke 17:34

I have to tell you, I wish I had spotted this one for myself, but a more wiser friend pointed this out.

Scripture confuses me these days, seriously.

Somehow, it used to all make sense, even when it didn't- it didn't seem to matter.

I find myself wondering about scripture- about christian values- and ultimately about Jesus.

Is scripture the Perfect living word of God? without error? and if so, which translation? I am told that the King James version is the one without error.

There is so much in scripture that perplexes me.

What perplexes me more is what the CHURCH does in the name of scripture.

Take for example, homosexuality.

Talk to any fundamental christian and they know; it is sin. Talk to some, and they would have no problem yelling, screaming, condemning, and even arresting those who call themselves gay.

and yet, I come across this verse. Jesus is talking about the rapture...if one is so inclined to believe in the rapture. Look it up for yourselves, I give you the infallible KING JAMES VERSION.

....and it says,

"I tell you, in that night there shall be two men in one bed; the one shall be taken, and the other shall be left."

So I ask you, christians and non...gay and strait....jew or muslim,

"WHAT THE HELL WOULD TWO MEN BE DOING IN ONE BED" ?

and if they are doing anything remotely near to what I am doing with my husband, then "WHY IS ONE BEING TAKEN TO HEAVEN?"

could it be possible that homosexuality is not a sin?

and he turns 21!

I was 20 years old. It was fall. The world was going to sleep; I was waiting for new life. A season out of season.

The leaves turned color, the smell of snow fell on the air, I waited....and ached to see his little face.

On this morning, I woke up early, 5 am early, and it was snowing. I was amazed with the snow, it was the most beautiful snow I had ever seen. It caused me to want to cook....

so I began cooking meals for a week...then two weeks...and then there were enough homemade meals from scratch in my frige to feed the entire third world...

so I looked at the snow...and it caused me to want to clean. so I cleaned the house from the top to the bottom...and every drawer...and every closet...and every tea cup.

and looked out at the snow.

which caused me to call everyone I know to say, "HAPPY FIRST SNOWY DAY". it didn't often snow this early in November. So people thought I was going to go into labor.

but I didn't think I would because I was already three weeks late, and this child was doing "his own thing" already. I doubted that he would ever come.

that night, after dinner,3 weeks late, standing by the phone, when GUSH, the waters broke...like a damn, a flood on my kitchen floor.

I hollered, "Mike, I broke my waters..."

nonplussed, the man ignored me...see in my last month; every time I sneezed, every time the baby moved...I thought my waters broke, but it was a bladder issue.

Now I knew the real difference....so I called him to come and see.

Grabbing every towel that we owned, we mopped up the mess and called the doctor.

24 hours and some later; I gave birth to a 9 pound 12 oz whopper boy that I named Jason.

November 14, 1987.

and 21 years later I still havent' stopped loving him with all that I am.

I have so much to say and no words to tell it...

I only hope that whatever I was supposed to pour into the child is in there..enough to get him into manhood...enough that he can start walking....without leaving his mama behind.

Happy birtday sweetheart...you'll always be my dinkydoo.

A little thing I read online in the press...

Do my eyes decieve me?

"WASHINGTON – All smiles and compliments, President-elect Obama and his wife, Michelle, called on President Bush and first lady Laura Bush Monday in a White House visit that was part political ritual, part practical introduction and a striking symbol of the historic transfer of power to come. The president and Obama talked war and financial crisis. Laura Bush and Michelle Obama talked about raising daughters in the nation's most famous house."

Does this offend anyone else? Didn't we just enter the era of "change" of "openmindedness" and well, "maturity"

those are some adjectives described this week after America elected a black president.

And TWO LITTLE SENTENCES puts us back into the neanderthal period.

THE MEN TALKED BUSINESS and THE WOMEN DISCUSSED BEING MOMMIES???

HUH?

I hope the men shared what it was like being a daddy in the white house...and I hope that the educated women had a little more to say than how to serve tea, bake cookies and be a mommy.

CRAP.

THAT PRESS MADE ME MAD.

How is this still tolerated???



*this article was quoted from the Associated Press

a request I sent out to the homeschoolers CHAT, just now

Why is it that when mom goes to work.....
and 5 year old girls play quietly....
dad's think all is well?

OK that rant is for another day.

HELP HELP HELP HELP

my daughter gave herself a makeover when no one was looking
yesterday...

her bangs were getting long apparently.. .

and now they are butchered...
and so is the rest of her head.

O M G

we usually go to cost cutters in (city near home)...but I think this calls
for desparate measure...

ANYONE KNOW OF A GREAT let me say that again GREAT hairdresser that
can make my daughter beautiful again inspite of hair of various
lengths...and in the presence of a hyperventilating mother??????

(City near home) area. that can see us N O W ?

trying to make this a fun moment...but not getting there...might
just get myself divorced instead....

O M G

so she is independent and wants to be a beautician, RIGHT????

O M G

I think I am going to take her to get her nails painted today...and
try to make this some sort of a positive thing...

OMG

anyone want a husband???? HE IS FREE FREE FREE...in fact, I'll send
him with food, money, clothes and soap....

AAAAAAAAAAHHHHHHHHH HHHHHHHHH

jane

Obama holds a press conference?

Were you all a little surprised?

I certainly was. I don't recall a president elect holding a press conference to address the state of the economy or well the state of anything

so his actions, leave me thinking.

What is his motive?

is he trying to show that he is a strong leader?

did he get a briefing from the white house that was worse than he expected?

is he taking power over the leadership, now, during a lame duck session?

is he trying to assure the consumer confidence so that things don't get worse going into christmas?

WHAT THEN?

Can I tell you a secret?

I fell in love with him. I loved his open candor, his smiles, his strength, his speech....his jokes. I wanted to run and buy him a hypoallergenic dog! I laughed when he called himself a mutt. I smiled when he spoke to the newsreporter with a hurt arm.

First time in a long time that this woman actually stayed paying attention to a briefing of any kind from the white house...I think September 11, a few years back was the last time.

Scares the shit out of me. Frankly, when someone is that engaging socially, I worry about them being sociopaths.

seriously.

maybe I work with too many of them?

Nah, I have followed too many engaging speakers to church. I have surrendered my money, my time, my values, my adoration....

to be spiritually raped.

kicked in my blood.

I have donated money for a needy family in my church and found out later it was for their salt filtered inground pool "PRAISE GOD"....when I needed beds for my littlest children but the pastor said he prayed, and a family was in "need" so I thought they needed more than me.

I have cooked, cleaned, prayed with, cryed with, babysat for free for, created ministries.....

and left to cry alone when I lost two babies while in my womb.

and left to worry alone when my teenager needed surgery.

and left lonely, when the mother's group that I formed, started meeting without me because I was crying too much about a very recent miscarriage.

So, I'll stay glued to this mesmerizing pastor- um I mean president elect.

But I'll watch from afar; and wait....and keep my money in my wallet; my hope in check; and my adoration hidden.

Spiritual abuse has far reaching tentacles....

To thy ownself be true.....

This morning as I was readying THE CHEEK OF GOD (tysdaddy),
I felt a sense of jealousy.

You see, he is able to write without regard to his readers.

WOW. What freedom.

That is what I am striving for......

When I first began blogging, I was recovering from being a born again christian in a fundamental christian cult. It was hard for me to find my own thoughts after those years of being locked up in black and white thinking.

I was affected by comments, most were positive, but some were not. When I couldn't handle exposing myself to shame and condemnation; I stopped blogging.

Then I came across THE BROWNSTONE BIRDER while looking up bird names for my daughter..

and I wanted to write again.

I have unsuccessfully tried to compartmentalize my writings...spiritual abuse in one area; my family stuff in another.

It seems to me that I bore those who write diligently about spiritual abuse/ religion with ramblings about day to day parenting...

or I offend the families that I found with my liberal...straddling the fence...kind of thinking.

I worry about offending; being offended or worse- no comments at all.

Today I strive for the ability to write freely, and without apology.

I am what I am.

I LOVE diversity.
I Love reading blogs that support Obama and McCain...
I Love reading about spiritual journies of many people...
I love hearing your thoughts; for and against and even your prayers...

I believe that in accepting differences; I am increased.

I hope that in sharing my stories; I am teaching others.

My favorite love of all is discovering the families here in blogsphere...
the families of all shapes, sizes and color...

and sharing in their journey of life.

So welcome to my blog corner...stay awhile...read, discover, disagree or cheer me on...

every once in a while let me know you stopped by..

a blossom of.....hope?

ok you all know that I didn't vote and yet I can't not be touched by,

the tears on the faces of Americans,
the woman who fell to her knees in astonishment,
the roar of the noise as they partied outside the whitehouse,
the cheers from across the globe,
the poetry of still rising,

the belief that perhaps our voice might really count is lurking,
that perhaps there isn't a conspiracy to make us working slaves,

like a scared abused puppy peeking from beneath the couch to see if my new owners really do care enough to feed me and love me;

I rise slowly to good thoughts on being American,
to hope that homes won't be lost,
freedoms stolen,
earnings robbed.

Wow. I did absolutely nothing and yet it feels good today to be an American.

Were we really the first country within the slave trade to elect a black man?

Good for us.

We as a nation are maturing and growing up.

Our spirit is evolving.

Who knows, maybe we can have world peace, save the world from hunger and pollution...and leave a future for our children.

Maybe the dream still lives on. . . .

maybe.

we'll see Obama....January thaw comes quicker than you think.

PET RABBITS SPOTTED IN NEIGHBORS YARD!

we tried like heck to catch you.....

last night must have been scary sleeping in the wild....ok, not so wild we have spotted you under the neighbor's boat.

we have good food over here.....and well, we miss you....

we'll fix the hole in the cage.....oh maybe I shouldn't tell you that part.

FALLY and PETER RABBIT.....PLEASE PLEASE COME HOME.

TRICK OR TREAT

Robin fell asleep with chocolate in his hands....

and when we tried to take them; he grabbed tightly but stayed asleep.

Bell was dancing with daddy as she passed out gifts of pumpkins that she made to all those giving her candy (she's so sweet hearted...)


and BATMAN didn't appear....he was "himself" instead.


but granpa....used to being cast in THE HAUNTED GRAVEYARD at Lake Compounce to raise money for diabeties...couldn't resist putting on his dress ups....
and the cousins were there, causing a scare......



or two....



and then there was the one MACAW cousin, flapping her bright feathers everywhere....




HAPPY HALLOWEEN EVERYONE!

One last rant before tomorrow....

OK everyone gets that we are NOT the electoral collage, right?

You know that the popular vote has voted for one candidate but the electoral vote has been the opposite, right?

So PLEASE, tell me again, WHY ARE YOU VOTING????

WHY IS IT SO IMPORTANT THAT OUR VOICE BE HEARD?

If no one is listening when my voice is speaking, what does it do for me to keep on speaking?

Want to know my fears?

I fear that tomorrow the people will vote for Obama....but the electoral vote will be for McCain........and riots will errupt.

I fear that Obama might be elected....and attempts will be made on his life just like every other presidents.....but the public will be told it's because of race...and we'll have more racial problems.

I fear that people will vote for McCain for all the wrong reasons....like they think he is against abortion (when I was going to vote for him last time; he was a pro choicer)......and think they are doing the more- moral thing.

I fear that if Obama looses- people will feel that it is because America is still overall racist.

But my biggest fear?

McCain winning.....dying of a heart attack....

and that person that claims to be a voice for women with special needs children will be in charge ....

OMG HOW CAN YOU KNOW WHAT IT FEELS LIKE WHEN YOU HAVEN'T EVEN STARTED PARENTING A BABY WITH SPECIAL NEEDS...

talk to me baby in 7 years when your child has "BEHAVIORS"...and when you don't have income to help you....and oh don't get me started...because I LOVE MY SON but I would never never be a women with a baby saying I know what it is like because when my son was a baby; I held him and loved on him like my other babies....special need problems don't start looking stressful that early........

ok, off my rant.

those are my fears but I respect everyone's right to have an opinion...

too bad we really don't have a voice that counts.

Thanks alot buddy....

thanks for finding my debit card, driver's license and employee i.d. and NOT mailing it to me.

Mean people suck.

Let me tell you about my day because of you.

What started out to be the day that I was to organize for Halloween tomorrow, ended up being the day spent at the Police Department.

See, You are so stupid that when you made reservations at the night club in New Haven; you gave my phone number to confirm.

What a surprise I got to find out I had reservations at a party house for 21 year olds; complete with break off rooms to make out and have sex.

I haven't even thought of that kind of fun in about 20 years.....

It was all I needed to be alerted that what I thought was my misplaced debit card yesterday...is really a stolen card.

Don't know where you found my card, but it was probably as I was racing through grocery stores with 3 children at heel, trying to get things done.

Couldn't you see that I had 3 children that might need that money to FEED them with?

no, I guess a night out on my back was more important to you, you selfish turd.

So, now I have to call the man who delivered a cord a wood...and tell him that the check I wrote to him that he is counting on to feed his kids....is LOCKED.

and Firestone, who fixed my car yesterday....will charge me $20 to stop payment on the check we wrote to them for $600.........

and Walmart, well, the manager isn't sure if there is a charge with a police report but there is definitly one at LOWES.

Yeah, and my supervisor is going to love to hear that I have to get a replacement work I.D. Which I will have to drive to Hartford, a good hour out of my way, with three kids, to get replaced.

And only God knows what the DMV is charging these days for a replacement driver's license.

Thanks.

I hope you were on camera when trying to buy a night out on my dime....Did you smile and say cheese? Cause the police are hoping so.

Pumpkintown 2008!

ahhhh, we had a better day yesterday.....


BELLE appeared....and enjoyed her "loot"


Robin was on the look out for evil.....


Batman met up with Batgirl....




Aren't my children, lovely?

on loosing my mind.....

today i came close, really close to loosing my mind.

it all started.......well, honestly sometime over the past few months.

we are on a hamster wheel, turning and turning, running to get there...

but where?

there was a goal, I am sure of it.

The goal is to get everyone in this family in their places with bright sunshiny faces.

That means people to work, in school, in therapy....and on time.

and the dryer broke.

and one car died.

so we run to the laundry mat with loads of wet clothes...

and we run to all the therapy appointments, meetings, trainings and field trips with one vehicle.

and my sister's husband is sick, very sick.

and she is loosing her house.

soon.

with 4 kids to feed.

so we run. to appointments. to therapy. to school. to work. and wake up each day to do it all over again.

my one year old now needs occupational therapy. it's an eating issue. one similar to Caleb but yet very different.

and my teenagers car died. sunday. he commutes to college.

so today I wake up after working an added shift last night, hoping the money will pay for a new dryer or a car battery. oh, did I add that the new car has a battery that periodically doesn't work?

at 6:30 a.m. my 8 year old woke up screaming and holding his ear...not a good sign.

which woke up my 1 year old screaming "ba ba" wanting to nurse to make up for me being gone last night.

which woke up my 5 year old who never wakes up well if it is too early. so she starting crying, this ear peircing wine.

so I forced myself to get up. get the lunches made. get the clean clothes on. find the homework folders. before the bus can come.

but my 8 year old held his ear, curled up on the couch and peed on it.

so I called his school and called the doctor so he could be seen...squeezed in between dropping my teenager off at college and getting home before the kindergarten bus.

then I left to drop my husband off at work (one car, remember) and beg my sister to come with me to the baby's occupational therapy because there was no way I could handle the 8 year old (he has autism) with the baby who screams through his therapy appointment; which sets off an auditory sensitive 8 year old;

who already peed on my couch so there is no self control today.

they decide to hang out at her house instead. my one year old screams as we leave because it isn't fair; he wants to stay too.

arriving a little early to therapy, I swing by the party store to buy my daughters yellow gloves and crown for her "Belle" costume because there is a Halloween party; tomorrow.

seriously. and I have to go because I have to return a cage that a women lent me when I bought guinea hens from her last week.

because the pamper boxes I brought to her home just wouldn't hold the pecking hens.

so I pull into the party shop parking lot...and the baby fell asleep.

So I drive to therapy thinking I'll catch this store after therapy.

there were no parking spaces at therapy.
none.
and we came to this facility 3 years ago for easier access to the office.

but a factory of some kind moved in next door and takes all the spaces. so I parked illegally in one of the handicapped spaces; after asking permission.

so while my baby is in therapy by himself; I meet a woman with a four month old baby that is bigger than my 13 month old. and it makes me worry more.

and I rest for a half hour thinking, wow, he isn't crying this time....this is progress.

then the therapest opens a sound proof door (can I buy one for my home?)and he is screaming for his life. he is out of breath as he sees me. she hands me an eval. it's not good. he needs therapy two times a week. yeah, in the middle of my week filled with vision therapy, dog therapy, occupational therapy and speech therapy for my 8 year old. yeah right. but I sign him up because, well, I want early intervention, right?

so I go back to the party store and they don't have yellow gloves.....so I buy white ones.

oh well Belle, get a life.

I run next door to Aldi's to grab a few food items to get through tonight until I can shop tomorrow. I fill my basket, get to the register, and they can't take my debit card BECAUSE THERE IS A CRACK IN THE MAGNETIC STRIP...so I leave my groceries there and race home to get my oldest to get him to school before he is late.

when my sister calls.

Caleb peed his pants and needs a change of clothes.

So I race the teenager to his class, run to my sisters, change my son, feed him and race him to his doctor's appointment.

I get him into the car on time but the car won't start. (remember that quirky battery).

So my sister comes out to jump my car but I can't find my cables. husband tells me (thank god for cell phones) there on the floor in the front seat which I can't see them because it is a mess.

I jump the car but now my son wants to ride in auntie's car.

So I start counting to ten...and back again...and bribe and threaten...and we get to the pediatrician's office ten minutes after 2pm

to find out that the appointment is at 3.

Which means that my son who can't wait without spinning circles around everyone; has to wait.

and they run late anyway.

so at 3:15 I tell the nurse I will come back after I go catch the school bus for my kindergartner.... but the wonderful doctor hears me so she comes quick.

and he has an ear infection.

would ya think?

but she has a million other necessary questions about all his other evals.....yeah he is going through a ton more evals, MRI, catscans, sleep studies...but I can't talk...so I tell her I'll catch up with her in two weeks because he has an appointment with her to check HIS WEIGHT.

yeah, he weighs too much....

and the baby comes in around the same time because he weighs too little...

and I rush to the car,
and I race to beat the bus....
and I get one off the bus to nurse the other...
and plan dinner to find out things are missing (remember Aldi's?)

then it is time to pick up husband and go to pharmacy to get perscription.


I walk into CVS like I have for years. I walk to the "drop off" counter and the woman is not waiting on anyone. I try to hand her a script but she rudely tells me that she is busy.

A woman is asking another employee questions about items near me...this looks like it is going to take a while.

So I ask the first woman because I am confused, if I can drop off the script so I can shop.

This rude woman says something like "YEAH< but I am with a customer so you can do that after you wait your turn!"

which is when I lost my mind.

"NO THANKS I'LL GO SOMEWHERE ELSE WHERE THEY WANT MY MONEY AND BUSINESS AND DON'T HAVE FREAKING BAD ATTITUDE" and stormed out of CVS and into the parking lot and into the car, shaking, and crying...and telling my husband we can NEVER GO IN THAT STORE AGAIN.

because I am sick of being yelled at; told NO; kicked; things thrown at my head...oh that's the autism.....

I drive to STOP and SHOP. Drop of the script. Buy a bag of Baby Ruths and walk around eating them while trying to figure out what I need.

THEY REMODELED THE FREAKING STORE so I can't find anything I need.

so I buy important stuff like ice cream, whip cream, bananas and things I haven't bought in a really long time....and remember to get the chicken noodle soup, gingerale and saltines for my sick kids.

I get in line, OK has anyone tried to pay for groceries these days? there are like double the amount of self help lines than those with an employee!

I figure if I am going to ring up my own groceries, they ought to pay me the $7.00 an hour while I am doing it that they pay their other employees who do the same thing.

plus i need someone to type in my card as a credit, because the strip is broke.

As my groceries are being rung up; I recognize a woman in line behind me. My obgyn who was proud of me when I lost weight by eating healthy....and she has a ton of healthy food...

I frantically start bagging the candybars, ice cream and canned soup to hide what I am feeding my family...evil processed garbage...

when a woman from the PTA walks by....

and I realize that I am shoving groceries into plastic bags; lots of them.

Oh, I didn't tell you that I am pushing the school to go "green" and have started a committee for this venture....complete with trying to get a composter for the school and chairing the committee for FAMILY FUN DAY in January; a crafting workshop using clean garbage.

seriously.

and here I am; green queen; shoving processed chemical junk into plastic bags that are killing dolphins in the pacific ocean.

crap. Maybe I'll tell them I had no plastic in my own home to bring in and had to buy junk food in plastic garbage to help teach a lesson to those who are ruining our planet with their garbage!

Ha! Yeah, that's the ticket. Do ya think they'll believe it?

Oh well.

you win some days; you loose others.

thanks for listening....but I got to go pick up my son from college....

maybe I catch your comments on my rebound when I come back tonight to eat the banana split.

got any creme de mint? rum? vodka? anything?

You know, they run classes at some therapy centers for parents to learn how to take care of themselves in the midst of autism.... a group once a week to listen to other mother's vent.

What the hell do I need that stress for? I'll come home to my house trashed!

Why doesn't someone just get my insurance company to pay for a maid twice a week...then I could de stress!

but you know I complain but I wouldn't trade my kids for anything- I love them all and am blessed to have them in my life...so don't misunderstand me; it was just a bad day.

Our TEEPEE

Remember the Tee Pee we built last spring?

Well, it grew!

and we read it in.....

and we loved our birdhouse gourds in it!

and we waited for greenbeans to grow in it...


we watched nature in it.....



(ok blurry shot, but can you see the hummer on our scarlet runners?)



and we ........in it....HA no we did not! It looks like it but he wouldn't read without the stool because he was afraid he would crush baby seedlings!



SO, do you like our teepee?

Our children's friends. . . . .

As a parent we worry about so many things. Today I write about their friendships.

I worry about them having friends; having the right friends; being invited to parties; not being invited to the wrong parties when they are teenagers...and well, yes, you get the point if you're a parent.

One of the most difficult thing for me has been accepting that my son's peers when he was in kindgarten have out grown him socially. It is easy to forget the feelings of failure as a parent when he is tucked away across town at a school just for kids that have problems like him. My goal was to get him returned to our local school because the people there are like family.

How perplexed I felt just this week when I learned that he DOESN'T WANT TO RETURN to our local school.
I was dropping off his sister, when he got out of the car, walked to the front door of the school, starting spinning in circles and said, "WOW, THANK GOD I DON'T GO TO THIS CRAZY INSANE SCHOOL ANYMORE!"

wow, he has let go, so why can't I?

Last night we attended a Family Fun Event at our local school as my daughter is now in kindergarten there. I cringe inside and hurt when I see the kids that he went to kindergarten with. They are so happy to see him; and him they. I hurt inside wishing that there was something more I could do for him....but then they get to talking....and those other kids even in their love for him; are clearly much, much older socially. So I straddle the fence; wishing for him he was successful here at public school....but rejoicing in the growth that he has made and the joy he brings everyone.

austism sucks.

For us, this balance of him being in an appropriate school while visiting his old friends works for today. It reminds me of a song we sang as girl scouts; "make new friends, make new friends; but keep the old; one is silver and the other's gold".


On a completely different note; my daughter made a new friend. We have been hearing about "vivian" since the first day of school. Vivian, Hannah and Alice have been best friends and planning playdates.

Let me back up a minute to tell you that there was another girl attending school this year that we were glad did not get selected to be in Hannah's class. Joanna is a child of a family that attends a cultic christian church. We had been friends with her family off and on through the years. We were very worried that Joanna might be selected to be in our daughter's class as it would pose stress on our family for numerous reasons.

So last night, at the Family Fun Event, Hannah and Vivian found each other to play. Vivian introduces us to her family. She holds my hand and says, "come meet my moms." Her mothers were very nice and we planned to get the girls together for a play date.

On the way home, my husband, a recovering born again christian who sometimes is perplexed by the fact that he is not a conservative born again christian any more says, "did that girl have two moms as in LESBIANs?"

"I guess so," I said. After all, I didn't ask them if they were having sex.

"what do you think about that?" He said.

"well, things could be worse." I said.

"how?" He asked

"well, Joanna could have been in her class, and they could have become best friends"

We laughed for a while because sometimes we just need to put things in perspective.

Our kids will find their own way and we need to get out of the way. As long as no one is getting hurt or doing anything illegal; we've decided to let our children grow up as they're intended to. Hopefully as they embrace their life path, we as parents can grow ourselves.

more on my last post....

You know as I read through what I wrote, I realized that I come across as a Democrat.

Well, I am not.

I was.

I am nothing anymore.

When I was in collage, my grandfather called me a bleeding heart Liberal...and I was so much worse than that.... a social communist probably.

I volunteered my time (that I had none to spare of) to so many causes to save the world.

Coalitions to end homelessness (remember "we are the world" of the 1980s?)

Community based medical services....

and what did I see?

corruption there as well.

welfare fraud at cooporate levels....justifying it like a Robin Hood.

I was shocked. The liberals were not any more moral or holy....

My bleeding heart broke. Lying, stealing, manipulating numbers for the greater good is NOT more MORAL to me.

I spent over 10 years fellowshipping with republicans; "the christian right" on Sundays.

My husband and I were the last registered Democrats in our fellowship.

It was a "SIN" to be a democrat amongst our peers....

Even as our local state republican leaders were going to jail (gov. John Rowland) for criminal activity....and even child molesting (mayor of Waterbury CT); we (democrats) in our church group were immoral.

It angered me.

I guess you could call me a conservative Democrat or a liberal republican.

I liked McCAIN the LAST time he ran, but I remember Dobson and others trashing him...
now, he is holy by their standards.

How does THAT happen?

He scares the crap out of me this time around.

But so does OBAMA. I mean, WHO is paying his campaign ads if he is so 'middle class"? WHO has bought his presidency? Kennedy, perhaps? Makes one wonder.

Now as I ramble, I must tell you that BEFORE my christian days; before when I was a "bleeding heart liberal"; I have always had difficulty with the abortion issue.

I believe that life begins at conception.... I believe that abortion (plus really bad adoption laws) in our nation has had a horrible side effect where families have had to look to other countries to adopt babies. While American children are growing up in horrible institutions here....trapped within a system of dysfunction.

BUT unlike many pro-lifers; I cringe at making it totally illegal.

WHY?

Because our government has done little to protect women and children. Historically men who also help concieve these children are able to move on with their own lives and leave women to struggle raising children on their own; often poor and shunned by their community- Historically women have been battered but are not able to leave and support their families...Historically girls who have been raped or incestually raped; have been called liars.

So I struggle with leaving these decisions in the hands of our government-

a government who HISTORICALLY has drugged the poor african males with syphilis...and tested radiation on retarded adults in residential facilities...and spread flu viruses over our air to tract the spread of it....google it if you don't believe me.

What am I today?

An American too cynical to waste her time finding a babysitter who can care for an 8 year old with autism....to go down and vote....when at least once in our history the electoral collage ignored the people's vote....and at least once in our history no one is really sure who won the state of Florida legally... and the choices they give us are not of the people to begin with....

So I'll stay home that day; in my self centered bubble; enjoying my children and gardens....

accepting what I can not change; politics in America.

I will not be voting this year.......

now before you throw stones at me and call me anti-american;

listen


I have a FEW issues with the candidates....

Let's talk the republican ticket. If I had one wish it would be to slap the conservative right silly for their hypocracy.

Just imagine for one moment if you would...if Chelsea Clinton were pregnant.....hmmm I can imagine it; "well, you know, the sins of the fathers...." or "well, if her father hadn't committed adultry in front of the entire nation....." or "well, her mother is so busy being a man that she didn't parent her" and how about comments about "generational curses".

Need I say more?

No, the christian right gives their applause to their candidate for being GODLY.

OK.

How about the abortion issue?

Has ANYONE read what McCAIN has voted for during the past decade? This may surprise some people but he is NOT A PROLIFER PEOPLE.

and how about that? Its ok to blow up cities with children and kill them- and pregnant women....but we are more holy if we make abortion illegal.

murder is murder.

whether for oil or self-righteousness- it's still murder.

AND this is not about the economy guys-
Democrats and republicans are going to take our money.

McCain doesn't know how many houses he owns- and trust me, it won't be long if Obama becomes president that he won't know either.

I find it ironic that the party (republican) that wants NO GOVERNMENT INVOLVED IN OUR PRIVATE LIVES...doesnt feel that way about abortion and homosexuality.

I find it ironic that the party that wants to help the middleclass, poor and underpriveleged (democrats) live in mansions over here at some of the most expensive areas (can anyone spell K E N N E D Y).

So do I sound confused?

I am not.

I am against hypocracy on both sides.
I am irritated by the belief that we as americans think we can make a difference in the vote. I am not an elector....my vote does NOT count.
I am irritated by the millions of dollars spent on all levels for the election.
I am irritated that friends and co-workers fight to the death arguing over who is the candidate from God.
I am irritated by it all....

oh, except those saturday night live imitations.

That would be a reason for me to vote republican, if my vote counted, because I could use some laughs watching those imitations of that women who I can't even say her name out loud that is how sick she makes me.....yup, could use some more laughs these days.

Tiger Lily's shadow

Hannah (age 5) loves to sneak my camera when I am not looking and take pictures....

pictures of her baby brother, pictures of her toys, of her painted toes...

but mostly of her flowers.

When I found this photo in my camera, I really fell in love with it. I am thinking about entering it into the local fair contest.

I love seeing the tiger lily up close- and the shadows of the lilies on the wall.

Some of her best photos are of her flowers, so if you humor me, I'll share...

goodbye scott, rest in peace

http://www.wtnh.com/Global/story.asp?S=8986996

I interrupt these musings of our summer fun to share with you all a recent loss.

Officer Dario "scott" Aponte was killed the other night in a car crash while responding to a domestic violence call.

Scott was the father of a child who went to the same therapeutic center as my son.

For the past two years as I have sat in the waiting room for two hours, I have gotten to know Scott's mother in law, wife and child. Anyone with a child on the spectrum knows the connectedness one feels when hour after hour, week after week, one sits in the waiting room sharing joys and pains with another parent in the same boat.

I laughed with the boys grandmother, shared recipes for the holidays, and waited patiently for the arrival of their baby last spring. I shared hopes and new ideas with the boys mother, and prayers that her new baby would be born healthy.

When Scott started bringing in the son, I knew the baby had come. We shared tales of sleepless nights, of mother inlaws who are so helpful but live too close....and other things that parents in waiting rooms talk about....and even more than that, as my son pursues a degree in criminal justice; he shared some tips with me there as well. Scott and his wife were both cops in New Haven Connecticut.

He was so happy about the birth of his new baby...

So when the news hit our television yesterday, I didn't quite recognize that it was Scott who was killed.

I called "ANNE". Anne is the center of all of our being at this therapy center. I am not sure what her title is, but it is her face that greets us at the counter, her voice that we hear on the phone... her patience that we feel when we are having a stressed out day.

I knew when I heard her voice. "Anne, that isn't our cop, is it?"

"yes."

and devastion has set in for all of us.

This man Scott was a sweetheart, family centered, loving, and positive man. He loved his family in a way that one doesnt' see to often- it showed in his eyes and smile. He was kind, funny and easy to love.

My heart goes out to the family- to the small children who will no longer have daddy at home, to his mother in law and most of all to his wife.

His wife; a fellow police officer; a mother; a woman; who is now left grieving for her love while raising a 4 month old baby and a special needs son..


http://www.wtnh.com/Global/story.asp?S=8986996
.

and then there was Shakespeare.....

we LOVE (ok me and the kids) going to Shakespeare outdoors every summer.
this year we saw Twelth Night

You can see that my children LOVE LOVE the performance.





and I leave you with some scenes..... adieu