In not quite 4 years I have met and married and my husband, giving birth to two ridiculously wonderful daughters, gained and lost 50 pounds twice, moved 3 three times, said good bye to two dogs, gotten one new puppy and caved to a severe cafinne addiction.
My Georgia Peach and my Hazenut are approaching 23 months and 9 months respectively. They are delightful, laughing, lovable little ladies whom I have no idea how I every lived without.
The home we are in now is just that, our home. Not a house. Not a place to live in for a few years until x, y, or z happens. But our roots planted, pictures hung, home.
Our new dog Roscoe is a wonder dog. He is such a good puppy we know that he will be a great dog. He is only 4 months old and he has already started babysitting for me. He stopped Georgia from jumping from the table to the couch then went over and watched the baby for me while I cooked. He's amazing.
I've officially lost all of my baby weight from both babies and thats pretty awesome. Weight Watchers online and a good jogging stroller is my prescription for that. It was a long stretch to feel so out of my own body like you do when you are pregnant....for two years straight.
My family is as adorable as every and my computer's hard drive is filled with their pictures. So until I get all of those safely moved onto CD's and my portable hard drive you're just going to have to take my word for it
I am beginning to rise above the ashes of sleep deprivation.
I miss writing like I miss playing the piano. My fingers ache for it and my mind writes all day long. Much like Cher or NKOTB I'm making a comeback, again.
Hello words. Its nice to see you again.
Friday, September 9, 2011
Friday, September 2, 2011
I Pledge Allegiance
I pledge allegiance to the flag of the United States of America, And to the Ducks who play on Saturday, one season under God, Indisputable with LaMichael and Barner for all.
Tuesday, June 14, 2011
A Mother's Prayer for her Daughter by Tina Fey
The Mother's Prayer for Its Daughter by Tina Fey'
First, Lord: No tattoos. May neither Chinese symbol for truth nor Winnie-the-Pooh holding the FSU logo stain her tender haunches.
May she be Beautiful but not Damaged, for it’s the Damage that draws the creepy soccer coach’s eye, not the the Beauty.
When the Crystal Meth is offered,
May she remember the parents who cut her grapes in half
And stick with Beer.
Guide her, protect her
When crossing the street, stepping onto boats, swimming in the ocean, swimming in pools, walking near pools, standing on the nearby subway platform, crossing 86th Street, stepping off of boats, using mall restrooms, getting on and off escalators, driving on country roads while arguing, leaning on large windows, walking in parking lots, riding Ferris wheels, roller-coasters, log flumes, or anything called “Hell Drop,” “Tower of Torture,” or “The Death Spiral Rock N’ Zero G Roll featuring Aerosmith,” and standing on any kind of balcony ever, anywhere, at any age.
Lead her away from Acting but not all the way to Finance.
Something where she can make her own hours but still feel intellectually fulfilled and get outside sometimes
And not have to wear high heels.
What would that be, Lord? Architecture? Midwifery? Golf course design? I’m asking You because if I knew, I’d be doing it, Youdammit.
May she play the Drums to the fiery rhythm of her Own Heart with the sinewy strength of her Own Arms, so she need Not Lie With Drummers.
Grant her a Rough Patch from twelve to seventeen.
Let her draw horses and be interested in Barbies for much too long,
For Childhood is short -- a Tiger Flower blooming
Magenta for one day --
And Adulthood is long and Dry-Humping in Cars will wait.
O Lord, break the Internet forever,
That she may be spared the misspelled invective of her peers
And the online marketing campaign for Rape Hostel V: Girls Just Wanna Get Stabbed.
And when she one day turns on me and calls me a Bitch in front of Hollister,
Give me the strength, Lord, to yank her directly into a cab in front of her friends,
For I will not have that Shit. I will not have it.
And should she choose to be a Mother one day, be my eyes, Lord,
That I may see her, lying on a blanket on the floor at 4:50 a.m., all-at-once exhausted, bored, and in love with the little creature whose poop is leaking up its back.
“My mother did this for me once,” she will realize as she cleans feces off her baby’s neck.
“My mother did this for me.” And the delayed gratitude will wash over her as it does each generation and she will make a Mental note to call me. And she will forget.
But I’ll know, because I peeped it with Your God eyes.
Amen.
First, Lord: No tattoos. May neither Chinese symbol for truth nor Winnie-the-Pooh holding the FSU logo stain her tender haunches.
May she be Beautiful but not Damaged, for it’s the Damage that draws the creepy soccer coach’s eye, not the the Beauty.
When the Crystal Meth is offered,
May she remember the parents who cut her grapes in half
And stick with Beer.
Guide her, protect her
When crossing the street, stepping onto boats, swimming in the ocean, swimming in pools, walking near pools, standing on the nearby subway platform, crossing 86th Street, stepping off of boats, using mall restrooms, getting on and off escalators, driving on country roads while arguing, leaning on large windows, walking in parking lots, riding Ferris wheels, roller-coasters, log flumes, or anything called “Hell Drop,” “Tower of Torture,” or “The Death Spiral Rock N’ Zero G Roll featuring Aerosmith,” and standing on any kind of balcony ever, anywhere, at any age.
Lead her away from Acting but not all the way to Finance.
Something where she can make her own hours but still feel intellectually fulfilled and get outside sometimes
And not have to wear high heels.
What would that be, Lord? Architecture? Midwifery? Golf course design? I’m asking You because if I knew, I’d be doing it, Youdammit.
May she play the Drums to the fiery rhythm of her Own Heart with the sinewy strength of her Own Arms, so she need Not Lie With Drummers.
Grant her a Rough Patch from twelve to seventeen.
Let her draw horses and be interested in Barbies for much too long,
For Childhood is short -- a Tiger Flower blooming
Magenta for one day --
And Adulthood is long and Dry-Humping in Cars will wait.
O Lord, break the Internet forever,
That she may be spared the misspelled invective of her peers
And the online marketing campaign for Rape Hostel V: Girls Just Wanna Get Stabbed.
And when she one day turns on me and calls me a Bitch in front of Hollister,
Give me the strength, Lord, to yank her directly into a cab in front of her friends,
For I will not have that Shit. I will not have it.
And should she choose to be a Mother one day, be my eyes, Lord,
That I may see her, lying on a blanket on the floor at 4:50 a.m., all-at-once exhausted, bored, and in love with the little creature whose poop is leaking up its back.
“My mother did this for me once,” she will realize as she cleans feces off her baby’s neck.
“My mother did this for me.” And the delayed gratitude will wash over her as it does each generation and she will make a Mental note to call me. And she will forget.
But I’ll know, because I peeped it with Your God eyes.
Amen.
Tuesday, April 19, 2011
Parent', don't dress your girls like tramps- CNN
Another article worth sharing in my parenting opinion. This one is written a father, LZ Granderson writes a weekly column for CNN.com. A senior writer and columnist for ESPN The Magazine and ESPN.com, he has contributed to ESPN's "Sports Center," "Outside the Lines" and "First Take. Here are his words about they way some people dress our little girls.
I saw someone at the airport the other day who really caught my eye.
Her beautiful, long blond hair was braided back a la Bo Derek in the movie "10" (or for the younger set, Christina Aguilera during her "Xtina" phase). Her lips were pink and shiny from the gloss, and her earrings dangled playfully from her lobes.
You can tell she had been vacationing somewhere warm, because you could see her deep tan around her midriff thanks to the halter top and the tight sweatpants that rested just a little low on her waist. The icing on the cake? The word "Juicy" was written on her backside.
Yeah, that 8-year-old girl was something to see alright. ... I hope her parents are proud. Their daughter was the sexiest girl in the terminal, and she's not even in middle school yet.
Abercrombie & Fitch came under fire this spring for introducing the "Ashley," a push-up bra for girls who normally are too young to have anything to push up. Originally it was marketed for girls as young as 7, but after public outcry, it raised its intended audience to the wise old age of 12. I wonder how do people initiate a conversation in the office about the undeveloped chest of elementary school girls without someone nearby thinking they're pedophiles?
What kind of PowerPoint presentation was shown to the Abercrombie executives that persuaded them to green light such a product?
That there was a demand to make little girls hot?
I mean, that is the purpose of a push-up bra, right? To enhance sex appeal by lifting up, pushing together and basically showcasing the wearer's breasts. Now, thanks to AF Kids, girls don't have to wait until high school to feel self-conscious about their, uhm, girls. They can start almost as soon as they're potty trained. Maybe this fall the retailer should consider keeping a plastic surgeon on site for free consultations.
We've been here with Abercrombie before -- if you recall, about 10 years ago they sold thongs for 10-year-olds -- but they're hardly alone in pitching inappropriate clothing to young girls. Four years ago the popular "Bratz" franchise introduced padded bras called "bralettes" for girls as young as six. That was also around the time the good folks at Wal-Mart rolled out a pair of pink panties in its junior department with the phrase "Who Needs Credit Cards" printed on the front.
I guess I've been out-of-the-loop and didn't realize there's been an ongoing stampede of 10-year-old girls driving to the mall with their tiny fists full of cash demanding sexier apparel.
What's that you say? Ten-year-olds can't drive? They don't have money, either? Well, how else are they getting ahold of these push-up bras and whore-friendly panties?
Their parents?
Noooo, couldn't be.
What adult who wants a daughter to grow up with high self-esteem would even consider purchasing such items? What parent is looking at their sweet, little girl thinking, "She would be perfect if she just had a little bit more up top."
And then I remember the little girl at the airport. And the girls we've all seen at the mall. And the kiddie beauty pageants.
And then I realize as creepy as it is to think a store like Abercrombie is offering something like the "Ashley", the fact remains that sex only sells because people are buying it. No successful retailer would consider introducing an item like a padded bikini top for kindergarteners if they didn't think people would buy it.
If they didn't think parents would buy it, which begs the question: What in the hell is wrong with us?
It's easy to blast companies for introducing the sexy wear, but our ire really should be directed at the parents who think low rise jeans for a second grader is cute. They are the ones who are spending the money to fuel this budding trend. They are the ones who are suppose to decide what's appropriate for their young children to wear, not executives looking to brew up controversy or turn a profit.
I get it, Rihanna's really popular. But that's a pretty weak reason for someone to dress their little girl like her.
I don't care how popular Lil' Wayne is, my son knows I would break both of his legs long before I would allow him to walk out of the house with his pants falling off his butt. Such a stance doesn't always makes me popular -- and the house does get tense from time to time -- but I'm his father, not his friend.
Friends bow to peer pressure. Parents say, "No, and that's the end of it."
The way I see it, my son can go to therapy later if my strict rules have scarred him. But I have peace knowing he'll be able to afford therapy as an adult because I didn't allow him to wear or do whatever he wanted as a kid.
Maybe I'm a Tiger Dad.
Maybe I should mind my own business.
Or maybe I'm just a concerned parent worried about little girls like the one I saw at the airport.
In 2007, the American Psychological Association's Task Force on the Sexualization of Girls issued a report linking early sexualization with three of the most common mental-health problems of girls and women: eating disorders, low self-esteem and depression. There's nothing inherently wrong with parents wanting to appease their daughters by buying them the latest fashions. But is getting cool points today worth the harm dressing little girls like prostitutes could cause tomorrow?
A line needs to be drawn, but not by Abercrombie. Not by Britney Spears. And not by these little girls who don't know better and desperately need their parents to be parents and not 40-year-old BFFs.
I saw someone at the airport the other day who really caught my eye.
Her beautiful, long blond hair was braided back a la Bo Derek in the movie "10" (or for the younger set, Christina Aguilera during her "Xtina" phase). Her lips were pink and shiny from the gloss, and her earrings dangled playfully from her lobes.
You can tell she had been vacationing somewhere warm, because you could see her deep tan around her midriff thanks to the halter top and the tight sweatpants that rested just a little low on her waist. The icing on the cake? The word "Juicy" was written on her backside.
Yeah, that 8-year-old girl was something to see alright. ... I hope her parents are proud. Their daughter was the sexiest girl in the terminal, and she's not even in middle school yet.
Abercrombie & Fitch came under fire this spring for introducing the "Ashley," a push-up bra for girls who normally are too young to have anything to push up. Originally it was marketed for girls as young as 7, but after public outcry, it raised its intended audience to the wise old age of 12. I wonder how do people initiate a conversation in the office about the undeveloped chest of elementary school girls without someone nearby thinking they're pedophiles?
What kind of PowerPoint presentation was shown to the Abercrombie executives that persuaded them to green light such a product?
That there was a demand to make little girls hot?
I mean, that is the purpose of a push-up bra, right? To enhance sex appeal by lifting up, pushing together and basically showcasing the wearer's breasts. Now, thanks to AF Kids, girls don't have to wait until high school to feel self-conscious about their, uhm, girls. They can start almost as soon as they're potty trained. Maybe this fall the retailer should consider keeping a plastic surgeon on site for free consultations.
We've been here with Abercrombie before -- if you recall, about 10 years ago they sold thongs for 10-year-olds -- but they're hardly alone in pitching inappropriate clothing to young girls. Four years ago the popular "Bratz" franchise introduced padded bras called "bralettes" for girls as young as six. That was also around the time the good folks at Wal-Mart rolled out a pair of pink panties in its junior department with the phrase "Who Needs Credit Cards" printed on the front.
I guess I've been out-of-the-loop and didn't realize there's been an ongoing stampede of 10-year-old girls driving to the mall with their tiny fists full of cash demanding sexier apparel.
What's that you say? Ten-year-olds can't drive? They don't have money, either? Well, how else are they getting ahold of these push-up bras and whore-friendly panties?
Their parents?
Noooo, couldn't be.
What adult who wants a daughter to grow up with high self-esteem would even consider purchasing such items? What parent is looking at their sweet, little girl thinking, "She would be perfect if she just had a little bit more up top."
And then I remember the little girl at the airport. And the girls we've all seen at the mall. And the kiddie beauty pageants.
And then I realize as creepy as it is to think a store like Abercrombie is offering something like the "Ashley", the fact remains that sex only sells because people are buying it. No successful retailer would consider introducing an item like a padded bikini top for kindergarteners if they didn't think people would buy it.
If they didn't think parents would buy it, which begs the question: What in the hell is wrong with us?
It's easy to blast companies for introducing the sexy wear, but our ire really should be directed at the parents who think low rise jeans for a second grader is cute. They are the ones who are spending the money to fuel this budding trend. They are the ones who are suppose to decide what's appropriate for their young children to wear, not executives looking to brew up controversy or turn a profit.
I get it, Rihanna's really popular. But that's a pretty weak reason for someone to dress their little girl like her.
I don't care how popular Lil' Wayne is, my son knows I would break both of his legs long before I would allow him to walk out of the house with his pants falling off his butt. Such a stance doesn't always makes me popular -- and the house does get tense from time to time -- but I'm his father, not his friend.
Friends bow to peer pressure. Parents say, "No, and that's the end of it."
The way I see it, my son can go to therapy later if my strict rules have scarred him. But I have peace knowing he'll be able to afford therapy as an adult because I didn't allow him to wear or do whatever he wanted as a kid.
Maybe I'm a Tiger Dad.
Maybe I should mind my own business.
Or maybe I'm just a concerned parent worried about little girls like the one I saw at the airport.
In 2007, the American Psychological Association's Task Force on the Sexualization of Girls issued a report linking early sexualization with three of the most common mental-health problems of girls and women: eating disorders, low self-esteem and depression. There's nothing inherently wrong with parents wanting to appease their daughters by buying them the latest fashions. But is getting cool points today worth the harm dressing little girls like prostitutes could cause tomorrow?
A line needs to be drawn, but not by Abercrombie. Not by Britney Spears. And not by these little girls who don't know better and desperately need their parents to be parents and not 40-year-old BFFs.
Tuesday, April 12, 2011
Did you do anything today?
I write an aweful lot of blog posts and journal entries in my head these days, but I cannot seem to find the time to actually put them down on post or paper. So in lieu of my own thoughts and insights I am posting someone else's, with whom I agree and whose work I was actually able to read. Albiet in four sittings, plus another three to simply cut and paste and write one paragraph. Motherhood is busy, and I cherish every moment.
From the blog Kellymom.com
My husband came home today and saw me sitting on the couch, toddler on one knee, and baby nursing on the opposite breast. I was trying to turn the pages of a book with the hand not attached to the infant,while listening for the sound of the stove buzzer, which would indicate that tonight's pork chops were at the stage between "well-done" and "the dog gets tonight's entree."
My Darling husband looked at me innocently, and asked "So, did you do anything today?" It's a good thing that most of my appendages were otherwise engaged, as I was unable to jump up and throttle him to death. This was probably for the best, as I assume that asking a stupid question is not grounds for murder in this country.
Let me back up a bit, and explain what led me to this point in my life.
I was not always bordering on the brink of insanity. On the contrary, a mere four years ago, I had a good job, steady income, and a vehicle that could NOT seat a professional sports team, and me, comfortably. I watched television shows that were not hosted by singing puppets. I went to bed later than nine o'clock at night. I preferred sex to sleeping in. I laughed at those people who drove halfway across the country hauling a tent trailer, three screaming kids, a drooling dog, and called it a holiday.
Now I have become one of them! What happened? The stick turned blue.
I have traded in my Victoria's Secrets lingerie for cotton briefs and a firm support nursing bra. Good-bye, Garth Brooks. Hello, Raffi, Lois and Bram. My idea of privacy is getting the use the bathroom without a two-year old banging on the door, and the baby spinning the toilet paper roll from my lap. And I finally understand that the term "Stay-At-Home Mom" does not refer to a parent who no longer works outside the house, but rather to one who never seems to get out the front door. So here I sit, children in hand, wondering how to answer my beloved husband.
DID I DO ANYTHING TODAY?
Well, I think I did, although not much seems to have gotten accomplished. I shared breakfast in bed with a handsome young man. Of course, the breakfast consisted of a bowl of porridge and leftover cookie crumbs found between the sheets. Then a handsome young man is about thirty-four inches tall and only gets really excited at the sight of bugs, a little blue dog, trucks, cars and Pancakes.
I got to take a relaxing stroll in the woods. Of course, I was on the lookout for frogs and lizards, and had to stop and smell the dandelions along the way. I successfully washed one load of laundry, moved the load the was in the washer into the dryer, and the dryer load into the basket. The load that was in the basket is now spread out on the bed, awaiting my bedtime decision to actually put the clothes away or merely move them to the top of the dresser. I read two or three classics. Of course, Dickens and Shakespeare cannot take credit for these works, as we have moved on to the works of Seuss and Sandek. I don't think I will be making any trips to the Adult Section of my local library anytime soon. In between, I dusted, wiped, organized and rearranged. I kissed away the owies and washed away the tears. I scolded, praised, hugged, and tested my patience, all before noon.
DID I DO ANYTHING TODAY? You betcha!
I will now understand what people mean when they say that parenthood is the hardest job they will ever have. In my LBD (life before diapers) I was able to teach young minds how to divide fractions and write complex sentences, but I am unable to teach a strong willed three-year-old how to use the toilet. I was once able to navigate urban streets while talking on the car phone and looking for a decent radio station, but now I can't get the wheels on my stroller to all go in the same direction.
I've graduated from a university, written newspaper articles, and won awards, but I can't figure out how to get carrot stains out of the carpet. I used to debate with my friends about politics, but now we discuss the merits of cloth versus disposables. And when did I stop talking in sentences that had more than five words?
So, in response to my husband's inquiry, yes, I did do something today. In fact, I am one step closer to one of life's greatest accomplishments. No, I did not cure AIDS or forge World Peace, but I did hold a miracle in my arms. Two, in fact. My children are my great accomplishment, and the opportunity to raise them is my greatest challenge. I don't know if my children will grow up to be great leaders or world-class brain surgeons. Frankly, I don't care, as long as they grow up to be happy and fulfilled. They are my greatest joys, even though I sometimes cry myself to sleep at night in frustration. The point is, that today I got to watch my children take another step on the great journey of Life, and I even got to point out some of the sites along the way.
As challenging as parenthood is, it is also equally rewarding, because we are using all our wisdom, our talent and skills to help forge a new person. It is this person, these people, who, in turn, will use their gifts to create our future. So every nursery rhyme I recite, every swing I push, every little hand I hold is SOMETHING!
----- by Cyndi Devlin
From the blog Kellymom.com
My husband came home today and saw me sitting on the couch, toddler on one knee, and baby nursing on the opposite breast. I was trying to turn the pages of a book with the hand not attached to the infant,while listening for the sound of the stove buzzer, which would indicate that tonight's pork chops were at the stage between "well-done" and "the dog gets tonight's entree."
My Darling husband looked at me innocently, and asked "So, did you do anything today?" It's a good thing that most of my appendages were otherwise engaged, as I was unable to jump up and throttle him to death. This was probably for the best, as I assume that asking a stupid question is not grounds for murder in this country.
Let me back up a bit, and explain what led me to this point in my life.
I was not always bordering on the brink of insanity. On the contrary, a mere four years ago, I had a good job, steady income, and a vehicle that could NOT seat a professional sports team, and me, comfortably. I watched television shows that were not hosted by singing puppets. I went to bed later than nine o'clock at night. I preferred sex to sleeping in. I laughed at those people who drove halfway across the country hauling a tent trailer, three screaming kids, a drooling dog, and called it a holiday.
Now I have become one of them! What happened? The stick turned blue.
I have traded in my Victoria's Secrets lingerie for cotton briefs and a firm support nursing bra. Good-bye, Garth Brooks. Hello, Raffi, Lois and Bram. My idea of privacy is getting the use the bathroom without a two-year old banging on the door, and the baby spinning the toilet paper roll from my lap. And I finally understand that the term "Stay-At-Home Mom" does not refer to a parent who no longer works outside the house, but rather to one who never seems to get out the front door. So here I sit, children in hand, wondering how to answer my beloved husband.
DID I DO ANYTHING TODAY?
Well, I think I did, although not much seems to have gotten accomplished. I shared breakfast in bed with a handsome young man. Of course, the breakfast consisted of a bowl of porridge and leftover cookie crumbs found between the sheets. Then a handsome young man is about thirty-four inches tall and only gets really excited at the sight of bugs, a little blue dog, trucks, cars and Pancakes.
I got to take a relaxing stroll in the woods. Of course, I was on the lookout for frogs and lizards, and had to stop and smell the dandelions along the way. I successfully washed one load of laundry, moved the load the was in the washer into the dryer, and the dryer load into the basket. The load that was in the basket is now spread out on the bed, awaiting my bedtime decision to actually put the clothes away or merely move them to the top of the dresser. I read two or three classics. Of course, Dickens and Shakespeare cannot take credit for these works, as we have moved on to the works of Seuss and Sandek. I don't think I will be making any trips to the Adult Section of my local library anytime soon. In between, I dusted, wiped, organized and rearranged. I kissed away the owies and washed away the tears. I scolded, praised, hugged, and tested my patience, all before noon.
DID I DO ANYTHING TODAY? You betcha!
I will now understand what people mean when they say that parenthood is the hardest job they will ever have. In my LBD (life before diapers) I was able to teach young minds how to divide fractions and write complex sentences, but I am unable to teach a strong willed three-year-old how to use the toilet. I was once able to navigate urban streets while talking on the car phone and looking for a decent radio station, but now I can't get the wheels on my stroller to all go in the same direction.
I've graduated from a university, written newspaper articles, and won awards, but I can't figure out how to get carrot stains out of the carpet. I used to debate with my friends about politics, but now we discuss the merits of cloth versus disposables. And when did I stop talking in sentences that had more than five words?
So, in response to my husband's inquiry, yes, I did do something today. In fact, I am one step closer to one of life's greatest accomplishments. No, I did not cure AIDS or forge World Peace, but I did hold a miracle in my arms. Two, in fact. My children are my great accomplishment, and the opportunity to raise them is my greatest challenge. I don't know if my children will grow up to be great leaders or world-class brain surgeons. Frankly, I don't care, as long as they grow up to be happy and fulfilled. They are my greatest joys, even though I sometimes cry myself to sleep at night in frustration. The point is, that today I got to watch my children take another step on the great journey of Life, and I even got to point out some of the sites along the way.
As challenging as parenthood is, it is also equally rewarding, because we are using all our wisdom, our talent and skills to help forge a new person. It is this person, these people, who, in turn, will use their gifts to create our future. So every nursery rhyme I recite, every swing I push, every little hand I hold is SOMETHING!
----- by Cyndi Devlin
Thursday, March 3, 2011
Hazel Rae
Sweet Hazel Rae and I one day shy of 11 weeks old. She is a remarkable baby. Calm, smiley, eats well and sleeps like a dream. Hazel sleeps better than Georgia does on most nights. Two nights ago, at only 10 weeks old, she slept from 9pm to 6:40 am! Incredible.
I do feel that Hazel is more fiesty that Georgia by nature. Which will stand her in good stead against her fabulous sister who is pretty certain she is fabulous too. Hazel Rae is happy unless she isn't. She doesn't seem to have any in between. But then as soon as the issue has been handled she is smiling and trying to laugh again. This could prove to get exciting when she's a teenager, or toddler for that matter.
While I was pregnant I never bought into the notion that once you have one good baby the next one is destined to be a nightmare. I wasn't about to put that expectation on my precious unborn child. And in our case I was right. I have been so blessed as to have two easy babies in a row and I am immensely grateful.
Friday, February 11, 2011
My beauties
Mom what if I have ugly babies?!" A question I once asked my mom. She likes to laugh and remind me of that these days.
I know I am biased, but I'm pretty sure I bipassed that fear and have been blessed with a couple of true beauties.
I know I am biased, but I'm pretty sure I bipassed that fear and have been blessed with a couple of true beauties.
Friday, February 4, 2011
Daddies girls
A dad and his daughters. Every girl deserves to feel like a daddies girl, and I think my two are well on their way.
With Georgia about 10 days old
and with Hazel about 6 weeks old
With Georgia about 10 days old
and with Hazel about 6 weeks old
Wednesday, January 12, 2011
We love our Ducks!
Our Duckies may have lost to Auburn by a field goal in the final seconds of the BCS Championship game but we don't care. This family wears green and gold come rain or come shine. The girls and I suited up at home for the big game while Daren was down cheering on our team live and in person.
Thursday, January 6, 2011
An 11 Step Program
Here is an 11 step program for people who think they may want children. It cracks me up. Currently lesson #3 is my favorite.
Lesson 1
1. Go to the grocery store.
2. Arrange to have your salary paid directly to their head office.
3. Go home.
4. Pick up the paper.
5. Read it for the last time.
Lesson 2
Before you finally go ahead and have children, find a couple who already are parents and berate them about their...
1. Methods of discipline.
2. Lack of patience.
3. Appallingly low tolerance levels.
4. Allowing their children to run wild.
5. Suggest ways in which they might improve their child's breastfeeding, sleep habits, toilet training, table manners, and overall behavior.
Enjoy it because it will be the last time in your life you will have all the answers.
Lesson 3
A really good way to discover how the nights might feel...
1. Get home from work and immediately begin walking around the living room from 5PM to 10PM carrying a wet bag weighing approximately 8-12 pounds, with a radio turned to static (or some other obnoxious sound) playing loudly. (Eat cold food with one hand for dinner)
2. At 10PM, put the bag gently down, set the alarm for midnight, and go to sleep.
3. Get up at 12 and walk around the living room again, with the bag, until 1AM.
4. Set the alarm for 3AM.
5. As you can't get back to sleep, get up at 2AM and make a drink and watch an infomercial.
6. Go to bed at 2:45AM.
7. Get up at 3AM when the alarm goes off.
8. Sing songs quietly in the dark until 4AM.
9. Get up. Make breakfast. Get ready for work and go to work (work hard and be productive)
Repeat steps 1-9 each night. Keep this up for 3-5 years. Look cheerful and together.
Lesson 4
Can you stand the mess children make? T o find out...
1. Smear peanut butter onto the sofa and jam onto the curtains.
2. Hide a piece of raw chicken behind the stereo and leave it there all summer.
3. Stick your fingers in the flower bed.
4. Then rub them on the clean walls.
5. Take your favorite book, photo album, etc. Wreck it.
6. Spill milk on your new pillows. Cover the stains with crayons. How does that look?
Lesson 5
Dressing small children is not as easy as it seems.
1. Buy an octopus and a small bag made out of loose mesh.
2. Attempt to put the octopus into the bag so that none of the arms hang out.
Time allowed for this - all morning.
Lesson 6
Forget the BMW and buy a mini-van. And don't think that you can leave it out in the driveway spotless and shining. Family cars don't look like that.
1. Buy a chocolate ice cream cone and put it in the glove compartment.
Leave it there.
2. Get a dime. Stick it in the CD player.
3. Take a family size package of chocolate cookies. Mash them into the back seat. Sprinkle cheerios all over the floor, then smash them with your foot.
4. Run a garden rake along both sides of the car.
Lesson 7
Go to the local grocery store. Take with you the closest thing you can find to a pre-school child. (A full-grown goat is an excellent choice). If you intend to have more than one child, then definitely take more than one goat. Buy your week's groceries without letting the goats out of your sight. Pay for everything the goat eats or destroys. Until you can easily accomplish this, do not even contemplate having children.
Lesson 8
1. Hollow out a melon.
2. Make a small hole in the side.
3. Suspend it from the ceiling and swing it from side to side.
4. Now get a bowl of soggy Cheerios and attempt to spoon them into the swaying melon by pretending to be an airplane.
5. Continue until half the Cheerios are gone.
6. Tip half into your lap. The other half, just throw up in the air.
You are now ready to feed a nine- month-old baby.
Lesson 9
Learn the names of every character from Sesame Street , Barney, Disney, the Teletubbies, and Pokemon. Watch nothing else on TV but PBS, the Disney channel or Noggin for at least five years. (I know, you're thinking What's 'Noggin'?) Exactly the point.
Lesson 10
Make a recording of Fran Drescher saying 'mommy' repeatedly. (Important: no more than a four second delay between each 'mommy'; occasional crescendo to the level of a supersonic jet is required). Play this tape in your car everywhere you go for the next four years. You are now ready to take a long trip with a toddler.
Lesson 11
Start talking to an adult of your choice. Have someone else continually tug on your skirt hem, shirt- sleeve, or elbow while playing the 'mommy' tape made from Lesson 10 above. You are now ready to have a conversation with an adult while there is a child in the room.
Lesson 1
1. Go to the grocery store.
2. Arrange to have your salary paid directly to their head office.
3. Go home.
4. Pick up the paper.
5. Read it for the last time.
Lesson 2
Before you finally go ahead and have children, find a couple who already are parents and berate them about their...
1. Methods of discipline.
2. Lack of patience.
3. Appallingly low tolerance levels.
4. Allowing their children to run wild.
5. Suggest ways in which they might improve their child's breastfeeding, sleep habits, toilet training, table manners, and overall behavior.
Enjoy it because it will be the last time in your life you will have all the answers.
Lesson 3
A really good way to discover how the nights might feel...
1. Get home from work and immediately begin walking around the living room from 5PM to 10PM carrying a wet bag weighing approximately 8-12 pounds, with a radio turned to static (or some other obnoxious sound) playing loudly. (Eat cold food with one hand for dinner)
2. At 10PM, put the bag gently down, set the alarm for midnight, and go to sleep.
3. Get up at 12 and walk around the living room again, with the bag, until 1AM.
4. Set the alarm for 3AM.
5. As you can't get back to sleep, get up at 2AM and make a drink and watch an infomercial.
6. Go to bed at 2:45AM.
7. Get up at 3AM when the alarm goes off.
8. Sing songs quietly in the dark until 4AM.
9. Get up. Make breakfast. Get ready for work and go to work (work hard and be productive)
Repeat steps 1-9 each night. Keep this up for 3-5 years. Look cheerful and together.
Lesson 4
Can you stand the mess children make? T o find out...
1. Smear peanut butter onto the sofa and jam onto the curtains.
2. Hide a piece of raw chicken behind the stereo and leave it there all summer.
3. Stick your fingers in the flower bed.
4. Then rub them on the clean walls.
5. Take your favorite book, photo album, etc. Wreck it.
6. Spill milk on your new pillows. Cover the stains with crayons. How does that look?
Lesson 5
Dressing small children is not as easy as it seems.
1. Buy an octopus and a small bag made out of loose mesh.
2. Attempt to put the octopus into the bag so that none of the arms hang out.
Time allowed for this - all morning.
Lesson 6
Forget the BMW and buy a mini-van. And don't think that you can leave it out in the driveway spotless and shining. Family cars don't look like that.
1. Buy a chocolate ice cream cone and put it in the glove compartment.
Leave it there.
2. Get a dime. Stick it in the CD player.
3. Take a family size package of chocolate cookies. Mash them into the back seat. Sprinkle cheerios all over the floor, then smash them with your foot.
4. Run a garden rake along both sides of the car.
Lesson 7
Go to the local grocery store. Take with you the closest thing you can find to a pre-school child. (A full-grown goat is an excellent choice). If you intend to have more than one child, then definitely take more than one goat. Buy your week's groceries without letting the goats out of your sight. Pay for everything the goat eats or destroys. Until you can easily accomplish this, do not even contemplate having children.
Lesson 8
1. Hollow out a melon.
2. Make a small hole in the side.
3. Suspend it from the ceiling and swing it from side to side.
4. Now get a bowl of soggy Cheerios and attempt to spoon them into the swaying melon by pretending to be an airplane.
5. Continue until half the Cheerios are gone.
6. Tip half into your lap. The other half, just throw up in the air.
You are now ready to feed a nine- month-old baby.
Lesson 9
Learn the names of every character from Sesame Street , Barney, Disney, the Teletubbies, and Pokemon. Watch nothing else on TV but PBS, the Disney channel or Noggin for at least five years. (I know, you're thinking What's 'Noggin'?) Exactly the point.
Lesson 10
Make a recording of Fran Drescher saying 'mommy' repeatedly. (Important: no more than a four second delay between each 'mommy'; occasional crescendo to the level of a supersonic jet is required). Play this tape in your car everywhere you go for the next four years. You are now ready to take a long trip with a toddler.
Lesson 11
Start talking to an adult of your choice. Have someone else continually tug on your skirt hem, shirt- sleeve, or elbow while playing the 'mommy' tape made from Lesson 10 above. You are now ready to have a conversation with an adult while there is a child in the room.
Friday, December 31, 2010
Thursday, December 23, 2010
Easy as 1,2,3...
One, two, three and we are four. The blessings abound this Christmastime in our home as we welcomed our second daughter 6 days ago today. We are stunned that we have been blessed with two special girls to call our own. I was so certain that we were having a boy that I almost took the girl going home outfit out of my bag before heading to the hospital. So when, after a mere 6 hours of labor and three pushes Hazel Rae made her way into the world and into our hearts, we were thrilled.
It was as easy as one, two, three.
ONE
One last belly shot at the hospital
TWO
Epidurals are from heaven.
THREE
Hazel Rae was born on December 17th at 3:06pm at 6 lbs 7 oz and 18 1/4 inches long
WE'RE A FAMILY OF FOUR!
This is our very first family photo of the four of us.
SISTERS
Georgia has loved her baby sister since the first moment they met.
Morning hugs are our newest tradition
It was as easy as one, two, three.
ONE
One last belly shot at the hospital
TWO
Epidurals are from heaven.
THREE
Hazel Rae was born on December 17th at 3:06pm at 6 lbs 7 oz and 18 1/4 inches long
WE'RE A FAMILY OF FOUR!
This is our very first family photo of the four of us.
SISTERS
Georgia has loved her baby sister since the first moment they met.
Morning hugs are our newest tradition
Wednesday, December 15, 2010
Public Service Announcement about Pregnancy
Seeing as I am days, hours or minutes from delivery of my second child thought I would post this friend PSA from the site Pregnant Chicken
10 Things Never to Say to a Pregnant Lady
1. "You look so big/small." Remember when you were a teenager and you didn't want to be unique in any way? Well pregnancy is the same and nobody wants to be told they look huge or teeny because it just scares them. Anything different from other pregnant women = weird = giant freak baby or creepy peanut baby.
2. "Haven't you had that baby yet?" If that woman's pregnancy seems long to you I can almost guarantee that it feels like about 30 years to her. Pregnant woman who are asked this question should be legally exempt from murder convictions.
3. "You look tired, you must be having a girl because they steal your beauty." Someone actually said this to my friend. So really what you're saying is "you look like crap". Thanks. I think the response to this should be "And you must be upside down because all I see is an a**hole talking". (I just made that up.)
4. "So do your nipples look weird? Mine went all crazy." Pardon? Unless this pregnant woman is someone that would tell you about her anal leakage or an odd growth on her armpit, then don't ask this kind of stuff and don't share this kind of crap with anybody. Ever.
5. "Sleep now because you won't get any when the baby gets here." What the hell does this mean anyway? It's not like you can bank sleep. It's like saying "Don't eat this year because an all-you-can-eat-buffet is opening up next March". Plus, who says that the woman you're saying this to is sleeping now? She may be a congested ball of heartburn, hemorrhoids and back pain so this kind of thing just adds insult to injury.
6."I hate that name." Really? Oh okay, then they won't name it that. Nobody cares that a girl named Angela took your oatmeal raisin cookie in grade two so don't lift up the tarp covering your mental baggage. On a similar note, if they want to name their kid Adolph or Kleenex just nod and say "nice" – that will be the least of that kid's problems anyway.
7. "Were you hoping for a girl/boy?" It's not really anyone's business and if she ain't sharin' don't you dare ask. If you're asked this you should answer that you were actually hoping for a puppy that could fart rainbows then just walk away.
8. "Was this an accident?" A woman's reply to this should always be "suck it." It's a nice, clean, confusing retort for someone that is rude enough to ask this kind of question.
9. "Did you use fertility drugs?" I don't want to get all misty here but all babies are miracles and by asking a question like that you're somehow implying that babies that were conceived with 'help' are different from babies that weren't. Not cool so don't ask.
10. "Should you be eating that?" This whole website is about people embellishing myths and half truths to scare the crap out of pregnant ladies. So unless she's about to accidentally snack on dog poop, don't say anything and let the poor girl eat.
Finally, there are Three Things You Always Say to Pregnant Women:
1. "You look fantastic" Even if she is a sweaty, wheezing Jabba the Hut with swollen ankles and a maternity top that no longer covers her fish pail, tell her she looks fantastic. She is making a person and that's pretty fantastic.
2. "That's wonderful" If she tells you she's going to give birth squatting in a Mr. Turtle pool surrounded by chanting Tibetan squirrels, you say "that sounds wonderful". Every pregnant woman makes about 200 declarations of what she is and isn't going to do and about 4 stick. Don't ruin her moments.
3. "It's going to be alright" When she starts crying because the pizza shows up wrong or she panics because she used regular detergent to wash the baby's onsies so she'll be a horrible mother or simply because she threw a reciprocating saw at your head because "you're too much of a moron to understand what she's going through". This is when it's a good idea to pull out "it's going to be alright". A side car of "you look fantastic" couldn't hurt either.
10 Things Never to Say to a Pregnant Lady
1. "You look so big/small." Remember when you were a teenager and you didn't want to be unique in any way? Well pregnancy is the same and nobody wants to be told they look huge or teeny because it just scares them. Anything different from other pregnant women = weird = giant freak baby or creepy peanut baby.
2. "Haven't you had that baby yet?" If that woman's pregnancy seems long to you I can almost guarantee that it feels like about 30 years to her. Pregnant woman who are asked this question should be legally exempt from murder convictions.
3. "You look tired, you must be having a girl because they steal your beauty." Someone actually said this to my friend. So really what you're saying is "you look like crap". Thanks. I think the response to this should be "And you must be upside down because all I see is an a**hole talking". (I just made that up.)
4. "So do your nipples look weird? Mine went all crazy." Pardon? Unless this pregnant woman is someone that would tell you about her anal leakage or an odd growth on her armpit, then don't ask this kind of stuff and don't share this kind of crap with anybody. Ever.
5. "Sleep now because you won't get any when the baby gets here." What the hell does this mean anyway? It's not like you can bank sleep. It's like saying "Don't eat this year because an all-you-can-eat-buffet is opening up next March". Plus, who says that the woman you're saying this to is sleeping now? She may be a congested ball of heartburn, hemorrhoids and back pain so this kind of thing just adds insult to injury.
6."I hate that name." Really? Oh okay, then they won't name it that. Nobody cares that a girl named Angela took your oatmeal raisin cookie in grade two so don't lift up the tarp covering your mental baggage. On a similar note, if they want to name their kid Adolph or Kleenex just nod and say "nice" – that will be the least of that kid's problems anyway.
7. "Were you hoping for a girl/boy?" It's not really anyone's business and if she ain't sharin' don't you dare ask. If you're asked this you should answer that you were actually hoping for a puppy that could fart rainbows then just walk away.
8. "Was this an accident?" A woman's reply to this should always be "suck it." It's a nice, clean, confusing retort for someone that is rude enough to ask this kind of question.
9. "Did you use fertility drugs?" I don't want to get all misty here but all babies are miracles and by asking a question like that you're somehow implying that babies that were conceived with 'help' are different from babies that weren't. Not cool so don't ask.
10. "Should you be eating that?" This whole website is about people embellishing myths and half truths to scare the crap out of pregnant ladies. So unless she's about to accidentally snack on dog poop, don't say anything and let the poor girl eat.
Finally, there are Three Things You Always Say to Pregnant Women:
1. "You look fantastic" Even if she is a sweaty, wheezing Jabba the Hut with swollen ankles and a maternity top that no longer covers her fish pail, tell her she looks fantastic. She is making a person and that's pretty fantastic.
2. "That's wonderful" If she tells you she's going to give birth squatting in a Mr. Turtle pool surrounded by chanting Tibetan squirrels, you say "that sounds wonderful". Every pregnant woman makes about 200 declarations of what she is and isn't going to do and about 4 stick. Don't ruin her moments.
3. "It's going to be alright" When she starts crying because the pizza shows up wrong or she panics because she used regular detergent to wash the baby's onsies so she'll be a horrible mother or simply because she threw a reciprocating saw at your head because "you're too much of a moron to understand what she's going through". This is when it's a good idea to pull out "it's going to be alright". A side car of "you look fantastic" couldn't hurt either.
Thursday, December 9, 2010
Break it down for the Holidays
Our family of four breakin' it down for the the Holidays.
Merry Christmas from Daren, Sarah, Georgia and Due to Arrive Any Day Now Baby #2.
Merry Christmas from Daren, Sarah, Georgia and Due to Arrive Any Day Now Baby #2.
Tuesday, November 23, 2010
Suck It Spica!
On this date, Tuesday November 23rd of Two thousand and ten Hip Dysplasia can suck it.
Georgia is walking!
Georgia is walking!
Monday, November 22, 2010
Black Friday
To some, it is an occasional outing to catch a good sale. To others, its absurd.
But to us, it is a long standing, highly respected, well trained for, much anticipated, girls only ( except for that one year that Uncle Dave came, but you can really take him anywhere) family tradition.
We are fairly certain this commercial was modeled after our family.
Here we come Black Friday. You know who we are...
But to us, it is a long standing, highly respected, well trained for, much anticipated, girls only ( except for that one year that Uncle Dave came, but you can really take him anywhere) family tradition.
We are fairly certain this commercial was modeled after our family.
Here we come Black Friday. You know who we are...
Tuesday, November 16, 2010
My little creative
While busying myself with my normal chores of being the family homemaker I turned around to find my sweet child busying herself with her brand new skill, coloring! My very own little creative found herself a crayon that had been floating around on the floor and put it together with the pink paper she sees Mommy write lists on several times a day.
The rest of this morning will be spent beaming with joy and pride at our first piece of refrigerator art.
The rest of this morning will be spent beaming with joy and pride at our first piece of refrigerator art.
Friday, November 12, 2010
Mompetition
* Caution this is really funny and a tad crass with a touch of bad language and a whole lot of truth*
It has embedded funny so you can only see about 3/4 of the screen. I don't know how to fix this, but you can click on the button that says Go to Video to see it better.
It has embedded funny so you can only see about 3/4 of the screen. I don't know how to fix this, but you can click on the button that says Go to Video to see it better.
Thursday, November 4, 2010
Naptime
My week has been a perfect storm. Georgia has a cold and isn't sleeping well at night and has been refusing to nap most of this week, this has been crying nearly all day every day. I am having pregnancy insomnia like I have never seen combine with pregnancy related Restless Leg Syndrome. My sleeplessness has gotten so bad that I have anxiety about going to bed because I know I will be up so soon and for so long anyway. Daren is as busy as he can be leaving the house before 7:00 am and not getting home until 8:00 or 9:00 at night. In addition this is the week that has finally made time slow down, and not in the good way. I have physically slowed down so much with the belly weight and pressures and pains of a dropping and growing baby with about 6 weeks left.
To be our capstone this week, yesterday afternoon Georgia fell off of our bed onto her head for the first time. We rocked in her glider, both of us sobbing. She recovered much more quickly than I did.
About 11:30 this morning I was asked if I had any prayer requests by the table leader at my bible study. I said, "I need some sleep" no more explanation than that.
Georgia fell asleep on the way to lunch with my Mom and was so tired from her nursery playtime that she slept all through lunch and then slept on the way home. She had slept all of her precious nap hours away, I was certain.
We got home around 2:30 and I cuddled my sweet sick girl while I gave her a bottle and worked to muster up my courage and whatever reserves I had left to face to rest of the day, feeling more than exhausted and knowing that she was going to cry until bedtime.
When, against all odds and any schedule she has ever been on, Jesus put us both to sleep for the next hour and a half!
Jesus promises rest to the weary and today he gave that to me in the most literal of ways.
Thank you God, for my nap.
God is good, all the time.
To be our capstone this week, yesterday afternoon Georgia fell off of our bed onto her head for the first time. We rocked in her glider, both of us sobbing. She recovered much more quickly than I did.
About 11:30 this morning I was asked if I had any prayer requests by the table leader at my bible study. I said, "I need some sleep" no more explanation than that.
Georgia fell asleep on the way to lunch with my Mom and was so tired from her nursery playtime that she slept all through lunch and then slept on the way home. She had slept all of her precious nap hours away, I was certain.
We got home around 2:30 and I cuddled my sweet sick girl while I gave her a bottle and worked to muster up my courage and whatever reserves I had left to face to rest of the day, feeling more than exhausted and knowing that she was going to cry until bedtime.
When, against all odds and any schedule she has ever been on, Jesus put us both to sleep for the next hour and a half!
Jesus promises rest to the weary and today he gave that to me in the most literal of ways.
Thank you God, for my nap.
God is good, all the time.
Wednesday, October 27, 2010
We told God to leave us alone and now the world is going to Hell
The following was written by Ben Stein and recited by him on CBS Sunday Morning Commentary.
My confession:
I am a Jew, and every single one of my ancestors was Jewish. And it does not bother me even a little bit when people call those beautiful lit up, bejeweled trees, Christmas trees... I don't feel threatened.. I don't feel discriminated against.. That's what they are, Christmas trees.
It doesn't bother me a bit when people say, 'Merry Christmas' to me. I don't think they are slighting me or getting ready to put me in a ghetto. In fact, I kind of like it. It shows that we are all brothers and sisters celebrating this happy time of year. It doesn't bother me at all that there is a manger scene on display at a key intersection near my beach house in Malibu .. If people want a crèche, it's just as fine with me as is the Menorah a few hundred yards away.
I don't like getting pushed around for being a Jew, and I don't think Christians like getting pushed around for being Christians. I think people who believe in God are sick and tired of getting pushed around, period. I have no idea where the concept came from, that America is an explicitly atheist country. I can't find it in the Constitution and I don't like it being shoved down my throat.
Or maybe I can put it another way: where did the idea come from that we should worship celebrities and we aren't allowed to worship God as we understand Him? I guess that's a sign that I'm getting old, too. But there are a lot of us who are wondering where these celebrities came from and where the America we knew went to.
In light of the many jokes we send to one another for a laugh, this is a little different: This is not intended to be a joke; it's not funny, it's intended to get you thinking.
Billy Graham's daughter was interviewed on the Early Show and Jane Clayson asked her 'How could God let something like this happen?' (regarding Hurricane Katrina).. Anne Graham gave an extremely profound and insightful response.. She said, 'I believe God is deeply saddened by this, just as we are, but for years we've been telling God to get out of our schools, to get out of our government and to get out of our lives. And being the gentleman He is, I believe He has calmly backed out. How can we expect God to give us His blessing and His protection if we demand He leave us alone?'
In light of recent events... terrorists attack, school shootings, etc.. I think it started when Madeleine Murray O'Hare (she was murdered, her body found a few years ago) complained she didn't want prayer in our schools, and we said OK. Then someone said you better not read the Bible in school. The Bible says thou shalt not kill; thou shalt not steal, and love your neighbor as yourself. And we said OK.
Then Dr. Benjamin Spock said we shouldn't spank our children when they misbehave, because their little personalities would be warped and we might damage their self-esteem (Dr. Spock's son committed suicide). We said an expert should know what he's talking about.. And we said okay..
Now we're asking ourselves why our children have no conscience, why they don't know right from wrong, and why it doesn't bother them to kill strangers, their classmates, and themselves.
Probably, if we think about it long and hard enough, we can figure it out. I think it has a great deal to do with 'WE REAP WHAT WE SOW.'
Funny how simple it is for people to trash God and then wonder why the world's going to hell. Funny how we believe what the newspapers say, but question what the Bible says. Funny how you can send 'jokes' through e-mail and they spread like wildfire, but when you start sending messages regarding the Lord, people think twice about sharing. Funny how lewd, crude, vulgar and obscene articles pass freely through cyberspace, but public discussion of God is suppressed in the school and workplace.
Are you laughing yet?
Funny how when you forward this message, you will not send it to many on your address list because you're not sure what they believe, or what they will think of you for sending it.
Funny how we can be more worried about what other people think of us than what God thinks of us.
Pass it on if you think it has merit.
If not, then just discard it... no one will know you did. But, if you discard this thought process, don't sit back and complain about what bad shape the world is in.
My Best Regards, Honestly and respectfully,
Ben S
My confession:
I am a Jew, and every single one of my ancestors was Jewish. And it does not bother me even a little bit when people call those beautiful lit up, bejeweled trees, Christmas trees... I don't feel threatened.. I don't feel discriminated against.. That's what they are, Christmas trees.
It doesn't bother me a bit when people say, 'Merry Christmas' to me. I don't think they are slighting me or getting ready to put me in a ghetto. In fact, I kind of like it. It shows that we are all brothers and sisters celebrating this happy time of year. It doesn't bother me at all that there is a manger scene on display at a key intersection near my beach house in Malibu .. If people want a crèche, it's just as fine with me as is the Menorah a few hundred yards away.
I don't like getting pushed around for being a Jew, and I don't think Christians like getting pushed around for being Christians. I think people who believe in God are sick and tired of getting pushed around, period. I have no idea where the concept came from, that America is an explicitly atheist country. I can't find it in the Constitution and I don't like it being shoved down my throat.
Or maybe I can put it another way: where did the idea come from that we should worship celebrities and we aren't allowed to worship God as we understand Him? I guess that's a sign that I'm getting old, too. But there are a lot of us who are wondering where these celebrities came from and where the America we knew went to.
In light of the many jokes we send to one another for a laugh, this is a little different: This is not intended to be a joke; it's not funny, it's intended to get you thinking.
Billy Graham's daughter was interviewed on the Early Show and Jane Clayson asked her 'How could God let something like this happen?' (regarding Hurricane Katrina).. Anne Graham gave an extremely profound and insightful response.. She said, 'I believe God is deeply saddened by this, just as we are, but for years we've been telling God to get out of our schools, to get out of our government and to get out of our lives. And being the gentleman He is, I believe He has calmly backed out. How can we expect God to give us His blessing and His protection if we demand He leave us alone?'
In light of recent events... terrorists attack, school shootings, etc.. I think it started when Madeleine Murray O'Hare (she was murdered, her body found a few years ago) complained she didn't want prayer in our schools, and we said OK. Then someone said you better not read the Bible in school. The Bible says thou shalt not kill; thou shalt not steal, and love your neighbor as yourself. And we said OK.
Then Dr. Benjamin Spock said we shouldn't spank our children when they misbehave, because their little personalities would be warped and we might damage their self-esteem (Dr. Spock's son committed suicide). We said an expert should know what he's talking about.. And we said okay..
Now we're asking ourselves why our children have no conscience, why they don't know right from wrong, and why it doesn't bother them to kill strangers, their classmates, and themselves.
Probably, if we think about it long and hard enough, we can figure it out. I think it has a great deal to do with 'WE REAP WHAT WE SOW.'
Funny how simple it is for people to trash God and then wonder why the world's going to hell. Funny how we believe what the newspapers say, but question what the Bible says. Funny how you can send 'jokes' through e-mail and they spread like wildfire, but when you start sending messages regarding the Lord, people think twice about sharing. Funny how lewd, crude, vulgar and obscene articles pass freely through cyberspace, but public discussion of God is suppressed in the school and workplace.
Are you laughing yet?
Funny how when you forward this message, you will not send it to many on your address list because you're not sure what they believe, or what they will think of you for sending it.
Funny how we can be more worried about what other people think of us than what God thinks of us.
Pass it on if you think it has merit.
If not, then just discard it... no one will know you did. But, if you discard this thought process, don't sit back and complain about what bad shape the world is in.
My Best Regards, Honestly and respectfully,
Ben S
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