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

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.

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.

"Sugar makes him hyper"

Do you remember hearing that when we were kids?

My mother would say that about my brother. "SUGAR MAKES HIM HYPER."

I thought I saw the same thing with my sons. I could tell if he got his hands on a chocolate bar. They became wild, hyper and out of control.

Until recently, I thought Sugar was the evil one.

I want to share with you all, another evil thing in our food.

(as if we don't have enough to worry about already).

I introduce to you,

VANILLIN.

google it, you'll find that the real vanilla, from the vanilla bean, is not able to grow at the rate we consume it.

you'll read that today there is an artificial vanillin that is a chemical compound created with petrochemicals. You've read that right, chemicals we use in our car.

you'll find a hazardous material listing with Environmental Health & Safety.


I decided to try an experiment with vanillin. I removed it from my son's diet. I bought "sundrops"; a "M&M" alternative at the healthfood store. It still has chocolate, it still has sugar but the artificial vanillin is not used.

Then I gave him a bag of real M&Ms....and WOW.

He spun circles, his language decreased in clarity, he was hyper and extremely ADD-like.

The problem? Vanillin is not a food ingredient so it can "hide" in the foods we buy.

So we wonder why neurological issues are prevelant in our society- things like an epidemic of autism. We wonder why we are an obese society with diseases killing us that are all diet related.

It isn't all because we are gluttons who live at McDonalds.

We are also victims of corporate greed that makes profit over deception.

No one told me as a child that when I bit into an all american Hershy bar that I was also eating a chemical with a hazardous waste listing....

did they tell you?

It doesn't take a rocket scientist to figure out that offspring of any animal fed this stuff is going to have genetic problems.....

So what do we do about it? In my younger days I would have tried to organize a group of people to fight it, would have at least got on a loud pedastal to shout it out for all to hear.

today?

I am going to go eat a Hershy bar. That at least, will make me feel good for the next 20 minutes.

(and p.s. NO this does not get sugar off the hook; he's no good either)

Keep Your Hands to Your Own Bodies!

I am having difficulty uploading a video.

see if you can see my LAME attempt to teach my children some boundaries!


http://video.google.com/videoplay?docid=302491463860435555