Mom Law

There are some things in life that defy explanation. One such thing is something I've deemed the "Mom Law of the Universe," and that's the compulsion of moms everywhere to say things that apparently don't need to be said. That are so blatantly obvious or unnecessary that they provoke the stereotypical teenager "eyeroll and sigh."

Com'on, Moms. You know what I'm talking about. Uh-huh. Yup. Been there, done that, right?

Yet somehow, despite the fact that we know our kids would never do whatever we're about to ask them not to do, we have to say it. At this point, it's not even a matter that self-control could stop.

We. Have. To. Say. It.

For instance, when they leave for a visit with friends, we always say "Behave." or "Be good." Really, if we didn't say it, would they act like monsters?

Maybe it stems from the fact that we have to constantly remind them of such things when they're toddlers. No one comes into the world knowing the rules of the road, so to speak. Most kids, as toddlers, will touch things unless they are reminded not to touch ahead of time. More often than not, kids will not remember to use their inside voice in a theatre the first time they go to see the symphony. Nor will they sit in a seat and eat a meal if they are not told that that's what we do. It's just not part of their makeup.

Just because they see other people doing it doesn't mean they'll know that that's what they're supposed to do, too. There's too much distracting them.

So at what point do we stop reminding them? Surely, they've learned a bit since toddlerhood. And even more surely we should have learned what they've learned since toddlerhood.

Since I haven't quite gotten to that part of motherhood, I honestly can't say. Though I can say with some certainty that the urge happens a little less often...either that, or it's getting easier for the kids to "smile and wave" instead of roll eyes and sigh.

But whatever the reason, we remind them, for goodness sake, be good!

Shadow Play

I wrote this after our visit to the museum yesterday:

I saw our shadows walking home,

And we were close behind.

The icy wind blew all around;

The sun was somewhat kind.

Walking back from museum visit,

We relived fun moments.

Our faces froze in happy smiles

No time left for laments.

We turned a corner, nearly there.

And saw with joy we'd passed

Our shadows now in tired lag,

No match for legs so fast.

It's funny how the sun does play

With man at any age.

Sometimes our shadows speed away

Next, hide in silent rage.

~S. M. Foote

Do You Know Me?

I found this in my drafts and thought I'd publish it. It was written right after the boy committed suicide in January.

====================================

I've been pondering...a-thinking...musing...wondering on some things recently.

A young man in our area decided that his life was worthless...and ended it last Saturday. It's heartbreaking all around -- for his family, for his friends, and, most especially, for him. That a young person, only 16 years old, could feel that hopeless.  According to his friends, he was a handsome guy, charismatic and full of fun. According to his obituary, his passion was pottery. I haven't read anything official in the newspaper about why he chose to end his life, but I'm sure the reasons will come out before too long.

How many people knew him well?  Did he know that? Did he feel special and valued and really known? How many people knew his "passion was pottery"?

Sometimes it's easy, in our busyness, to miss really knowing people. We see them; we interact briefly with them; and we judge them. But do we really know them? Personally? Do we know their strengths and weaknesses? Do we know their likes and dislikes, what makes them giddy with pleasure or cry in anguish? Do we know their passions?

I hate to see a young person die. It goes against all human logic. People are born, grow up, and die in old age.  I know that's not always God's way. But it is how, in our humanness, we think.

So this brings me back to my ponderings...

Why does it take a death for us to really know someone? Why after they die do they suddenly become so much more important?

I've seen my daughter come home from her youth group functions, sad and frustrated. She wishes people would know her better, like her better, actually listen to her better.

She said she starts to talk to people and they walk away mid-sentence. She has become quiet and withdrawn. No one knows her very well. She is an average Christian girl from a Christian home who does her schooling at home.

Does anyone there know her passions? What makes her tick?  Does anyone there know that she danced for over 10 years? Does anyone know that she made it into the National Honor Society and loves to learn? Does anyone there know that she writes for "Voices" and has a keen desire to do public relations and missionary work when she grows up? Does anyone know that she loves fashion design and started her own fashion design company when she was only 9?

Does anyone care?

I know how she feels. I used to feel afraid that it would take dying for people to actually get to know me.

Why is that?

She has a "small group" leader at youth group. But she just complains that Emily doesn't come to everything. Does she know and understand that financially we can't afford to come to the church every time the doors open? Does she understand that we have other obligations, including work and two other children, that also take our time? Does she know that we value family time much more than organized activity time?

Does she care?

Probably not.

She doesn't even really know our names. And, every now and again, Emily is a blip on her radar.

It makes me sad.

It shouldn't take a tragedy to rally people around another person to celebrate who they were. We should all be doing that now.

The Job of Listening

One of the best parts of working for the newspaper is the fact that I get to be really, really nosy. I get to ask questions of people that would usually have me considered, to use a colloquialism, a "neb-nose." But it's all in the name of getting a good story, right? And most people enjoy talking.

Yet, with this fun, comes the added responsibility of how I handle this personal stuff, what I choose to include. I usually ask far more questions and get far more information that I can actually use. But by getting more than I need, I get to know my subject much better and can (hopefully) write a better story as a result.

I realized this morning, as I plowed through the 24 (!!) "mini" -- 200- to 450-word -- stories I'm doing for a "Shop Local" supplement our newspaper is producing in conjunction with the advertising department, that I've been a reporter, of sorts, all of my life.

I have always enjoyed sitting down and hearing the stories of people's pasts. I find myself transported back to another time and another place. Like a foreign country, everything feels strange and new and exciting. And I'm a very curious person.

Even as a little girl of 4 or 5, I would go next door to our older neighbor's house to have "tea" with her. I would listen to her stories. My mom said I was a "little old lady" way before my time.  But hearing people's stories gave me a kind of wisdom far beyond my years. It wasn't that I was wise...I became wise through the experiences of others.

But, lest you think I'm a great listener with the patience of a saint and the wisdom of Solomon, I'm not.

I enjoy listening, but I also want to "fix" things. If my "wisdom" gets ahead of me, I have a chronic urge to "pep talk" people -- even those who don't want help, who just need an ear.

I guess that's because it's a different kind of listening. One is to recount a story...the other to share a need.

My "wisdom" still needs tweaking.

I (Anti-Heart) Social Networking...

It's a funny thing...cyberspace.

I've been a traveller in it all the way since its early days...back in the days of text only. Gasp! (My daughter did!) NO pictures. At all.

Remember those days? With "gophers" and other such oddities?

I remember sitting in my dorm room and managing to somehow "surf" into the Oxford University Library. I was so excited I sent a message to whomever it was that was named in the contact box. I felt like I'd flown over there and could actually see and smell the books (all in my head, of course).

The other day, I was explaining to my children how the Internet isn't really all that old. Well, not in its current form, anyway. And it's continually exploding with exciting new features. They were amazed. It wasn't always around? Really?

Nope.

But idlegrass.

Online social networking isn't all that old either. In the early days of the Internet, chatrooms were all the rage. With a username you could go into the same ones (if you were lucky to find them again) every day or explore others. It was fun, but it was also a clique-maker. An early and easy way to find yourself on the outside looking in -- but this time with people you didn't really know...at all.

Hmm...

Fast-forward about 15 years.

Now you have Twitter...and it's everywhere.

I joined Twitter about a year after it started.

...

And I couldn't really figure it all out. What was its purpose? I had a terrible time trying to boil down my thoughts into 140 characters. 140? Really? (It gets easier with practice I learned.)

The newness gone, I just stopped using it.

Then came Facebook...and it's everywhere, as well.

Again, I was left wondering why? What was the purpose? But I was sucked into it and suddenly I reconnected to friends I hadn't seen or heard from in decades.

Once.

It seems that it's not necessarily, or actually, a new-friend maker...or an old-friend reconnecter. (Well, not for everyone, anyway. It seems you have to be in the right "crowd," so to speak. Some friends seem to have endless chats with their friends. Idlegrass again.) In fact, I would venture to say I talk less with/to some friends now than I ever did. It's almost like they've "seen" me online so they don't need to chat with me anymore.

Hmm...

In fairness, I've probably fallen into the same trap and talk to/e-mail friends a whole lot less now, too.

So what to do?

I wanted to just quit both worlds (easier said than done, I found out). I felt so discouraged. But I decided to stay on and do an experiment to see if it would get any better.

I returned to Twitter, following a several-year hiatus, and found it was still who you were/who you knew.  I tried to connect with people, comment on their tweets, tweet my interest in their daily happenings.

My last personal tweet after a year or more of trying was: "Always on the outside of the window, looking in, nose pressed on the glass, watching the fun.... With that, I'll bid Twitterland goodbye...."

The only one who tweeted back was my then-12-year-old daughter, saying how sad she was for me.

Nothing from anyone else. Not even the crickets.

Sigh.

I guess it was a social-networking-experiment-gone-wrong? Or maybe it worked? It showed me that some people have it; others just don't.

Oh, well.  I've never been much of a social butterfly anyway....maybe more of a moth with friends?

*wink-grin*

...to be continued...

Friday Funnies

Did you ever have one of those days when you woke up thinking it was another day even though you knew it couldn't be but somehow in your head it just had to be and yet it most certainly wasn't?

Yep.

Me too.

* * *

And now for something completely different:

Proof that you can't fix "stupid."

Pondering the Imponderable

My friend Angel posted this about a tragedy that happened to a friend of a friend of hers in the town near where she lived before moving to Pennsylvania. She said she didn't know this woman...but anyone of us could have.

The victim, Francie Billotti Wood, described herself in her blog's profile as "...a woman, a daughter, a sister, a wife, a mother, a lover of many things, a joiner, a questioner, a truth-seeker and a friend."

I went to Francie's blog and read down through the past three years, getting to "know" -- through her writings -- the sweet and intelligent woman she was. The last entry, dated April 1st, was somewhat haunting given the turn of events.

I can't sleep and I am thinking
I am thinking about a board presentation I plan to give in May. I am thinking about sponsorship letters that need to go out for an event that is in Sept. I am thinking about driving my MIL to BWI in the morning. I am thinking that Chris and I will never agree on a new house to buy. I am thinking about how I volunteered to serve on the board of my Moms Club but am afraid it is going to be more work than I bargined for. I am thinking that I wish I was sleeping instead of typing on my blog. I am thinking that I miss my friend Heather and my friend Kim. I am thinking it is way too hard to make time to exercise....

I am thinking that I am pretty lucky to be awake and to be thinking about such trivial things. How truly blessed am I to be thinking about being able to give back to my community, to get to stay home with my children, share time with my childrens' grandparents, and to have such wonderful friends that I care so much about...and to have my health and to be able to exercise. I am thinking how grateful I am!

Wow.

The reason I am especially perplexed by this tragedy is that it came in the form of a murder-suicide. Her husband and soulmate, Chris, murdered her and their three children -- Chandler, 5, Gavin, 4, and Fiona, 2 -- and then killed himself.

Horrifying.

Senseless.

Heartbreaking.

Troublesome.

Three little children. Two boys and a little girl. None of which will ever live to his/her potential. No more birthdays, Christmases, summer vacations.

A beautiful woman who was staying at home with them, raising them, taking them to church, their school, the zoo, visiting their friends and relatives, living what seemed a normal life in smalltown America.

A handsome man who by all outward appearances seemed sweet and loving and smiling, troubled by financial burdens and a new job....inwardly hurting from something in life; something which made him want to leave it all behind...and take his family with him.

The question "WHY?" comes to mind, though I know there's no real answer to it.

Only God understands, and only He can bring peace after such a tragedy.

Pray for Chris's and Francie's families. We may not have known them personally...but we know they were real people, gone from this earth forever, leaving behind grieving parents and siblings and friends...all seeking answers to this imponderable act.

And it made me think that I need to reach outside the computer to the people around me...

You never know when someone is hurting. And after a tragedy it's too late.

On Parenting, Perception, and Patience

When is it okay to teach our kids to lie? When it's a little lie...a fib...a story...or even a fib-lette?

(Euphemisms are grand, aren't they? They're alive and well and "living" all around us.)

Sigh.

It's really just a matter of perception. Like the 3-D glasses we wore to watch a recent movie. They made you think the animated items were coming at you.

Calling a lie something else makes it seem better...if only a little bit. But it doesn't change what it is.

I remember reading an article once about how often parents lie in front of their kids. For example, they might say the child is younger than he/she is so that they can get a cheaper rate/ticket/dinner. The author of the article said she did this once and her child actually "ratted" her out in front of the cashier. Bust-ed! Why? Because the child didn't like lying, and she was proud to be the age she was. Why hide it?

Makes you sit up and think a bit, huh?

I joined a certain networking site a year or so ago and noticed that you had to enter your birthdate -- including the year -- in order to start an account. The disclaimer states this is because of safety reasons. (We've all heard the horror stories of young teens on MySpace.) And because of these safety reasons, the site bans all kids under 13 from setting up an account. (It's true...I tried it to see what it would say.) And if you're 13 and above but under 18 you have to be in high school or college. Again, for safety reasons.

My 11-year-old daughter would dearly love to be on this particular site. She thinks it's the next best thing since sliced bread. Her perception is that it will bring her lots of joy and happiness and, best of all, friends. We've tried to be careful in limiting her use of the Internet and Yahoo Instant Messaging. There's so much out there that's cool, but so much more that could damage her or lure her into harm's way.

We've explained the rules of this particular website and told her that she has to wait, and that really "bums" her out.

Why?

Because many of her friends and classmates from our homeschool co-op -- 10-, 11-, and 12-year-olds -- are already on this site.

How?

They lie. (I know. I was shocked, too.) They put a different year in for their birthdate and everything is "hunky-dory."

But is everything a-okay? Do their parents know and understand the rules and reasons behind them? Or do they just assume that their kids will be safe and use the common sense the good Lord gave 'em?

Pretty heavy assumption.

But it's only "a little lie." And it "isn't really harming anyone." So why not let our daughter join in the fun, too?

I'm left wondering: What exactly does it teach our kids when we allow this sort of thing? That lies have different values...different levels...different intents?

But to God, a lie is a lie is a lie.

And one day that child will have to answer for that lie....and his/her parents will have to answer for allowing it.

Makes you sit up and think a bit, huh?

There's a reason for the popularity of the saying: "Good things come to those who wait."

Sweet Sunday

Then Jesus called for the children and said to the disciples, “Let the children come to me. Don’t stop them! For the Kingdom of God belongs to those who are like these children. I tell you the truth, anyone who doesn’t receive the Kingdom of God like a child will never enter it.” Luke 18:16-17

I was sitting in the mother's room at our church, feeding Ethan and listening to the guest speaker talk about a wicked king in Judah named Manasseh. One of the awful things he did during his reign was make sacrifices to the pagan gods. These sacrifices included burning babies alive. The speaker explained that the elders would stand around the altar and beat their drums loudly to drown out the screams of the babies as they burned.

With tears in my eyes, I gazed down at my sweet 10-week-old son and thought of the agony those babies felt...and the pain their mothers may have endured as well.

When I was relating that to my hubby later on our drive home, he reminded me that we're no better today in aborting babies. It's just that their cries are silent -- but their pain is still just as real.

Something I began to ponder as I gazed at Ethan dozing in my arms: I cannot believe that a person who believes in abortion -- especially late-term -- has ever held a sleeping baby...

If people did that more often, it would completely change their minds...and hearts.

Friday Funnies

I like to stay away from politics on here since there's enough strife caused by them on other forums, but this was too funny not to post...and, best of all, it pokes fun a both candidates. Thanks to Susan Smith for sending it to me.

Enjoy and have a fun Friday!


http://view.break.com/592648 - Watch more free videos

Points to Ponder

I got to thinking during a trip to the store the other day:

Why...

...is it that drivers always look the other way first when waiting to turn in front of you?

...is it that the tinkling sound of an ice cream truck's song can make me want to stop and buy something, even though I could buy a whole box of treats for the same cost as one?

...do I always want to buy back-to-school supplies each Autumn even though I still have 16 boxes of crayons and 30 new glue sticks?

...do kids always hear you whisper "cookie" or something they shouldn't hear, but they can't seem to remember you saying anything about not dancing inside the house?

...do I always cry at the same sad stories, songs, movies, ads, even though I've read/heard/seen them a gadzillion times?

...do pets always begin shedding just before you have someone over who is deathly allergic to them?

Optimal Optimism

I realized I have a fault.

Okay, okay. I realize I have many of them, but this one could cause me to be offensive and might even backfire, causing confusion of my intentions at a given moment.

I realized that I'm the eternal optimist.

While that in and of itself is not really a bad personality trait...I can see how it might be frustrating to others.

Hmmm...

I'm having a hard time understanding the continued sadness about Kiefer's jailtime. Well, I guess I'm not having a hard time with that, per se (it certainly makes me sad for him, too), but I'm in my "get on with it" mode...knowing that he'll be okay and come out a better man...

Then I started to ponder that "mode" and began to see a pattern in my life....

I spent the better part of my childhood moving around the country with my family. Before I was born, my father was in the Navy so he and the rest of the family moved as a result of that. Somehow that became a way of life for him so that even after he wasn't in the Navy anymore, we still moved around.

I hated it. I mean really, truly despised it.

It meant that a very shy and timid little girl had to get to know a whole new group of friends, a whole new house, a whole new school, a whole new area....

As a result I grew very insecure and clung to my mom.

But human nature says we have to look for something good in every situation, right? Find the silver lining in the cloud, so to speak. Or at least try.

So because I couldn't change the situation or stop the move, I'd try to find something good about it instead.

Maybe I'd finally meet a bosom buddy? Maybe my new school would be nicer? Maybe we'd see some fun and exciting places?

And I knew I'd always have my family with me, no matter where we moved.

So when Stuart and I "dated" overseas for over four years and saw each other only a few times a year, I learned how to handle the times in between. I just looked for something positive and clung to that.

After we parted ways, I'd smile a watery smile and begin the countdown again until the next visit. (I think it both annoyed and amazed him.) I learned to keep myself busy and not dwell on the sad part of it all...

It was a God-given knack that later got me through six years of his travelling with his job and countless other trials.

So thinking about it now, I guess it's okay for me to be an optimist. I guess it's what helps me "get by."

But, while it's a survival technique for me, I realize it doesn't work for everyone.

And that's okay, too.

Sometimes you have to be allowed to cry in your beer....

Children are...

Amazing -- acknowledge them

Believable -- trust them

Childlike -- allow them

Divine -- honor them

Energetic -- nourish them

Fallible -- embrace them

Gifts -- treasure them

Here now -- be with them

Innocent -- delight with them

Joyful -- appreciate them

Kindhearted -- learn from them

Lovable -- cherish them

Magical -- fly with them

Noble -- esteem them

Open-minded -- respect them

Precious -- value them

Questioners -- encourage them

Resourceful -- support them

Spontaneous -- enjoy them

Talented -- believe in them

Unique -- affirm them

Vulnerable -- protect them

Whole -- recognize them

Xtra-special -- celebrate them

Yearning -- notice them

Zany -- laugh with them

~Meiji Stewart

Pensive Ponderings

Do you like the countdown clock?

96 days!

Wow!

When I look on the calendar there's so much to do between now and then, and I certainly don't want to rush life -- it goes fast enough already.

With that said, the clock might need to be reset depending on what sentence is handed down to Kiefer Sutherland next Tuesday.

Yeah, yeah, I know. He made a mistake, and now he needs to deal with the consequences.

I don't disagree one iota with that.

But that doesn't stop me from feeling bad for him. Afterall, my kids make mistakes and have to "deal with the consequences," and I still love and support them.

And we can point to the fact that he has so much -- but with much, much more is expected. Some can handle that...some cannot. (In his shoes, how would you or I handle it?)

I won't excuse what he did, but I won't stop liking him or enjoying his work.

He is, afterall, only human like the rest of us.

And he needs to know his fans are still behind him.

An excellent video from VanBrazil

More Thoughts on Season 6

Some more thoughts on this season (I'll add to this as I think of more -- feel free to leave your thoughts in the comments section):

I'm a huge fan of symbolism so this season was perfect for me.

**Jack walks out of Jim Heller's beach home, after saying goodbye to a comatose Audrey, and walks across the yard to the ocean overlook. Gun still in hand, he looks down at the pounding surf, 100+ feet below him, and contemplates suicide. Still, the rising sun reminds him that it's a new day and new beginning for him. As uncertain as that makes him feel, he accepts it. The screen fades to black with a silent ticking clock and subtle overlay of ocean waves. The silent clock usually signifies that someone has died. But I think the director used it in this instance to show the "death" of Jack's old life.

**Sean Callery does an excellent job with the music. My hubby and I noticed countless times in this season when Jack's and Audrey's love theme is played quietly in the background. The first time Jack mentions Audrey's name after he's been handed over by the Chinese the theme is there. Then when he and Audrey are together in the basement of CTU and then again when he says goodbye to her. The theme is haunting and sweet, reminding the viewer that though their love is very real and beautiful, it is never meant to be.

Jack's own theme is also used this season when Jack first sees himself in the mirror (the same sort of scene is played in Season 2 when he looks in the mirror after he rejoins CTU after his wife's death). And it plays in the final segment when Jack is looking into the sky, thinking about his future.

**The juxtaposition between the last scene in Season 5 and this season is so vivid.

At the end of Season 5, Jack sees a beautiful and vibrant Audrey getting out of a CTU vehicle. He waves off medical treatment and hurries over to her. They embrace and kiss, touching foreheads to look into each other's eyes. Jack promises that everything will be alright, that he's never going to leave her. Then he's taken from her by the Chinese.

This season he goes into the bedroom where she lays sleeping. (We see a glimpse of hospital equipment in the corner, implying the seriousness of her condition.) He greets her with his familiar "hey" (used in most of their conversations from Season 4 on) and talks to her, hoping to awaken her, to bring back the Audrey he'd been taken from 20 months earlier. She doesn't move. He tells her that he's at a crossroads, that he's letting her go to protect her, and that he hopes she'll understand and forgive him one day. Then he kisses her and touches her forehead, still hoping against hope for some kind of reaction. But he realizes that she's been taken from him by the Chinese.

**Jack tells Jim Heller that he's "good at killing people," afterall, he'd killed Nina, Curtis, Fayed, and countless other unnamed "baddies." But he couldn't kill the most significant bad guy to date: his own father, Phillip Bauer. It was what his father wanted, but Jack wouldn't give him the satisfaction, nor would he live with the guilt. Instead, Jack let him die when the F-18s bombed the oil platform. Jack told his dad he was "getting off easy." Jack isn't "wimping out" by not killing him first -- he's choosing the high road and not letting his anger and hatred control his actions...something he doesn't always choose.