Nah-tivity Nonsense

I am constantly irritated amused amazed by the stuff I read on the Internet. That it only really started in the form we now know nearly 20 years ago and people have taken to it -- and complaining on it -- without reservation...is, like, wow!

We have a generation of people, some call the Millennials. I see them more as the Baby Boomers 2.0. They seem to complain about, er, um, question everything.

I came across a photo the other day about a nativity set someone had at her house.

She brought up the idea that white entitlement or privilege was prevalent in Christmas stuff, that her nativity scene figurines were blond and that made them from Ohio (not sure how many blonds live in Ohio, but idle grass...) She claims that they are miscolored because Jesus was Jewish...and this is apparently a #christmasfail.

Three people agreed with her -- with vehemence. One even complained how she'd been on a quest for a "non-blond" more "culturally accurate" set. She promised to get two, if she found one.

...

First of all, none of us was there. There are no photos, pictures, drawing, paintings of Jesus and his parents at that time period. Why couldn't they be blond? What is that "white privilege" or "entitlement"? Blond people exist today. Who's to say they weren't the coloring of the first people and the rest changed pigmentation as people moved away from the Garden area? No one knows what color came first. And who really cares? At the end of the day, we are all people with different pigmentation. That's it. No colors. Just people.

I know. I know. Spoken like a true white person.

Sigh.

Second of all, the person in question is white. Or, as I prefer to say, Caucasian. What gives? Why is she "white bashing" when that's her own background? It seems to me that a person who bashes her own skin tone is just trying to be part of the crowd, beating the tired drum of the liberals of our country. She has no credibility.

Thump. Thump. Sigh.

And third of all, who cares? I know I already added that to my "first of all," but it bears repeating. I am white and my family is white. Not one of us is blond, but that doesn't mean I can't enjoy a nativity set that is blond...and white...and in a wooden building -- eek! -- (because they apparently used a cave). The idea is that a nativity scene -- with a little baby Jesus -- points us to the true meaning of the holiday. Does it really matter if he's black, white, brown, green with polka dots? Not really. It's something we bring out once-a-year for about a month or so. We add it to the other decorations and gaze at it occasionally. We don't worship it. We don't think it's the be-all-to-end-all. It's just part of the scenery.

And if having a more culturally appropriate set is important to your family because culturally you are different, then kudos to you. But if you're white and your set is white, enjoy it for what it is: a small reminder that Christmas is a gift, a blessing, a privilege in itself -- not another time to complain and jump on the liberal millennial band wagon.

Your whiteness precludes you from that.

Let's just be people. Together. Celebrating. Worshiping. Without reservation.

That's Heaven.

Just Breathe...

Okay, in an effort to breathe new life -- or maybe just some life -- back into my lovable blog, I began to think again about posts. That's what it's all about: Thinking about blogging...and thinking in blog posts.

Seems odd, right?

Early on, when I was blogging nearly daily, the trend had not really caught on with anybody, except us "cool kids."

But then Twitter happened. And blogging seemed to be a lot more work because why write an entire post about something when you can summarize it in 140 characters. And once you start thinking in 140-character bursts, well, you basically rewire your brain.

Am I right?

Not necessarily.

I enjoyed Twitter for about a minute or two. (It was an odd world. Odder now than then.)

Then Facebook happened. I resisted at first. It seemed another odd and silly place. But, as anyone who has ever watched even one episode of Star Trek knows, resistance is futile.

Facebook is the killer of blogdom. I'm convinced of that. It should be a helpful aid or another platform whereby you can share your blog...

But it's not.

It's easy.

It's addictive.

And so my brain began to think in longer-than-140-characters moments, but still shorter-than-actual-blogpost moments.

Yet, I've stumbled on and tried to continue my blog. I love doing it. It's such a great way to keep myself writing daily (or thereabouts) and an even better way to clear some of the "clutter" in my noggin.

So, today, this very morning, my brain thought up a post. I thought again in a blog post. And I was exhilarated and decided to sit down immediately and write it out. But I had to write this explanation first, which may have taken my brainpower and time briefly.

Sigh.

Still in all, here I am breathing some new life into my old friend.

In Times Like These...

I love words. 

I love the way they fall together to create sentences, forming stories or poems or songs. I love to hear the jingle of the letters’ sounds together – sometimes making onomatopoeia. I loved teaching my children how to read and process the sounds together to make words. I loved sharing my favorite words with them: saunter, facetious, whimsical.

But words don’t define me. I am not a collection of static letters or sounds. That’s when words lose their meaning.

I am a living, breathing, ever-changing human. I am not what people call me, either in race or religion or creed. My beliefs are my own, not formed by a stereotype or what I am told they are or should be. They are mine. And the basic core of my soul stays the same, but my thoughts are fluid as I observe and grow and process all that is around me.

When we allow our televisions and newspapers and online sources to tell us what to believe about who we are and what we are, it’s time to UNPLUG. When we listen and believe only what we are told, we have given up the power of words. We have allowed fear to own us.

So many people are complaining about the violence we hear and read about…constantly…the “ugliness” that is our world. I didn’t see it personally. I only read about it. What if it wasn’t as bad as described? What if “catastrophic” was an exaggeration of the events…made to cause fear and panic and anxiety in me? Catastrophic has always existed…and recent events are nothing new. And, yet, losing one person is always tragic to me. Losing three…even more so. Those people have their own people, who knew and loved and cherished them. And now they are without them. That makes me incredibly sad.

But fearful?

Instead of concentrating on what’s happening and being afraid, what if we looked around us at the world we can actually see? Look at the multitudes of flowers all around us, full of color and blooming in the final weeks of summertime. Listen to the giggles we hear from children running on a playground, enjoying their freedom and the innocence of just being. Watch a family or group of friends laugh, enjoying a dinner together.

Why can’t we grab hold of these truths? 

They are RIGHT. IN. FRONT. OF. OUR. EYES. 

They are real and happening right now. 

Why can’t we let go of what the media wants us to hear, to believe, to own. Realize that we may not have “gotten our way” in the election, but then neither did half the country in the last two elections…and we all made it through just fine. What if we accept what is and have faith that goodness exists and that we’ll all be okay…goodness is in children, in furry animals, in chocolate, in a drive through farmland, in a walk through a city, in the rising and setting of the sun. What if we believed in the good of mankind again – in those we know and see and love around us? What if we “agree to disagree” and go back to making cookies for each other or sharing ice cream cones or game nights or movies together? What if we ONLY try to make the small sphere we live in a better place for our children to live and grow up in, refuse to do anything else or read anything else or fear anymore?

What else can we do? Really?

For better or worse, this is the world we live in. We only see and feel and hear a small sphere of it, a mere sliver of all that is out there. Why not concentrate on that for a change, count our blessings and realize that, yes, we are sinful, but through God’s mercy, we are good? We are safe. We are alive. And we are free.

Then our words will be meaningful again. Because their power will be ours – not the media’s or government’s. Just ours.

It starts with a simple phrase: I love you, my friend. Not because we are the same, but because we are different.

I am NOT "white" or "conservative" or "hateful" or "mean." I am just Susie.

Perspectives

My parents always taught us to look at both sides of something. Sometimes that meant playing the "devil's advocate," but it was still an important lesson. Things aren't always one-sided, even if we want -- or hope for -- them to be.

This was an important tool to have in my toolbox when I became a reporter. It's easy to want to make the narrative fit the issue. But is the narrative truth...or at the very least, the whole truth? How much braver to look at an issue and face that it might be different than we wanted -- or hoped.

No one is perfect. Everyone has some skeletons in his/her closet.

A diamond has multiple sides, and the sun hits each side differently, causing a different amount of sparkle and shine and light. Just the same, people have different ways of seeing the world -- or even an event.

None is wrong...just different.

Maybe when we finally realize and grasp this, the world will become a better place?

Maybe.

Worded Wednesday

From Ethan's "2012 Art Collection."

Wordless Wednesday

CITIZENSHIP DAY!!!!

Today was a HUGE day for our family -- for Stuart, specifically.

Today is the day that Stuart became an American!

It was something I had said I would never force him to do when we first married. It had to be something he wanted. I didn't mind paying for a Green Card every 10 years.

But Stuart said he wanted to do it, to "belong." And he wanted to vote, to have a voice behind the taxes he pays. He said he would only do it when he could say the Oath and mean it.

And that day had come.

It was a beautiful -- if cold -- day! And we were all so excited and nervous as we headed into Philadelphia. And we were SO proud of him!

Happy New Year!!

Happiest of Happy New Years! We are SO glad that it's 2017!

To say that 2016 was not our family's favorite-most year does not adequately cover it. But to say that God carried us and strengthened us and kept us going through it is an absolute blessing and truth!

Between Emily's extended illness and emergency appendectomy and my breast cancer and Stuart starting back to college and still traveling...and the boys being hungry ALL the time...and medical bills that are drowning us...

But through it all, God was there...and still is. We know that He who controls the universe hasn't forgotten us.

A recap in photos of 2016...and see? We were even smiling.



2016: Year in Pictures

Wordless Wednesday

A Funny Little Thing Called...Life

There's a thing to understand about life...and that thing is that life is not always understandable.

Curve balls can be -- and often are -- thrown at any moment, without warning. We may think that we have everything all planned out and moving along like our favorite movie's storyline....but it doesn't always work that way. (Wouldn't you love to have an umpire shout about the "next batter"?)

And then there's the comparison trap. We look around at friends, neighbors, movie stars/singers, and even strangers and think that they have it all together. They're so much more successful than us. Their lives are moving along swimmingly, like our favorite movie's storyline. So why aren't ours?

Because those people don't exist.

Hang on a moment. They don't exist?

Huh?

Stay with me.

They don't exist -- not in the realm of our own true reality. They don't live with us, right? We can't look into their houses or apartments or work spaces, like a little child playing with a dollhouse, right?

And while, in truth, their reality is exactly the same as ours, filled with curve balls that throw them off course and create bubbles of confusion, frustration, and envy, they aren't here.

Of course, in realness they are. They are every bit as real as you and me. If they came to visit, they would eat and drink and talk and laugh the same as we do.

But when they're not with us? Who knows. Maybe they're just cardboard cutouts made to keep us in comparison confusion, virtual reality to look like they're there. They aren't living with us. They are people we hear about on the news or read stories from on Facebook...so how do we really know? And why do we really need to know?

Like the Schrodinger's cat experiment, they might be there...they might not. And in the spirit of getting on with our own lives, who cares?

I'm not saying we shouldn't care for or about each other -- that's another blog post (and probably one that I've already blogged about lots in the past). I'm saying we shouldn't care about what each of us is or isn't doing.

Because, if you think about it, everyone is struggling in his or her own way. Everyone feels down at some point. Not everything is "great" in a person's life, just because he or she has money, a good job, a seemingly fantastic spouse or girlfriend/boyfriend, sweet, obedient, and talented children or pets.

We're so focused on others and how they are doing in their lives that we forget our own lives.We need to leave behind the "what ifs" and "if onlys" and get to what is.

Enjoy your own job. Have fun with your own kids or pets, Love your own significant other. Worry about your own finances and feel blessed with what you have.

And when you have a curve ball thrown at you? Pray. And, in doing so, remember to pray for others who also face curve balls.

In the big scheme of things, everything else is just fluff.

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

What are your thoughts? How do we get off the comparison train that seems to derail us in life?

A Decadent Decade

Has it really been 10 years since I posted my first blog post on here?

10. Whole. Years. ???

Wow!

That's so amazing. When I started, I thought that blogging was more of a vanity thing. Like journaling for the world to see. Then I realized it was a good way to keep track of stuff -- happenings, memories, accomplishments, milestones.

And, while I haven't been able to stay completely faithful in writing on here, I have enjoyed it. It's fun to muse and remember and ruminate on the stuff bouncing around my head.

And it's even more fun to go back and reread the happenings of the past 10 years, memories I might have forgotten without this little blog-thing.

So here's to -- hopefully -- 10 more years?

Thanks for reading!

Issues of the Day

Recently, I was reading a few reviews about some middle-grade books that are new on the market. The reviewers raved about how EVERYone should read these books...and how they wished they'd been around when they were young...and how it would have "helped" them through some tough issues they'd faced. The books in question were about the death of a parent.

Hmmm...

The popular notion at the moment is to write stories for middle school kids about tough issues facing them. We want them to be prepared and know how to face and handle complex issues...some of which we're not even comfortable facing or handling. BUT, they will know how.

Because?

Because they read about a girl in a book who faced that very same issue and saw how she handled it -- nevermind that the issue might be one some kids will never face or have to handle. Let's stress them out some more. Because, after all, if they don't know how to handle every issue that might come their way, they'll flounder.

What if they never even knew about certain issues? Would it really hurt them?

I write all of this tongue-in-cheek, of course.

I'm reminded of something we were taught in our prenatal parenting sessions. "Dress the baby for the weather, not based on what you're feeling."

So you, as an adult, think a story about a boy facing the death of his mother and learning how to deal with it and let go is a good thing. Because you're an adult and know how to handle such things. And a kid, of 9, 10, 11, should be able to handle it, too? How can you (with adult eyes) truly see it through the eyes of young person again?

We are doing our kids a disservice when we give them issues that are way too old and mature and complex for them to really need to think about. What happened to reading for entertainment? For pleasure? For a nice story about a nice family in a nice setting with happy thoughts?

Sure, life is definitely not always nice, but don't we all inherently know that without having to be reminded in books and television shows and movies?

Middle-grade readers read alone. They sit in their room or on the bus or in the library or on a blanket in the grass and read...and they take in all they are reading...alone. Those thoughts and ideas swirl around in their heads. They try to make sense of them. They try to handle the complex ideas of divorce and death and sex and relationships -- way before they need to -- alone. Certainly, some kids will chat with their parents about their reading materials. (Or, worse, with friends who are also just as uncertain.)

But, com'on, let's be honest. How many of us adults really take the proper amount of time to talk "lit" with our kids, to philosophy and mull over and exchange thoughts about what's being read, what the author might have meant, what the subject is about? How many have time? How many want to take time?

We're all too busy. And, heck, if the kids are reading, that's a good thing, right?

Wrong.

Reading for pleasure is an awesome thing. I'm a huge lover (and collector...see this post) of all things books. I worked for a publishing house, and I'm currently a newspaper correspondent. I love stories! I love the idea of reading and teaching it and teaching the love of it.

But what if the materials are unnecessarily too complex and stressful for our kids? What if we take a step back and say, "I love this book and what it's talking about...now...when I get it...knowing what I know at this moment."

What if ideas and concepts that are too big for our kids are putting unneeded worries and stress in their lives? What if they don't always need to know about certain problems until (and unless) they actually face them? What if we save such materials for then? So they know they're not alone...instead of making them worry "what if"s all the time?

When I was 10, my parents gave me a book of stories about kids and their struggles. One of the stories dealt with a girl whose parents divorced. I hadn't really heard much about divorce. I knew that my mom's parents (my grandparents) had divorced, but it didn't occur to me that someone my age could have divorced parents. The girl had to live a few days at a time at each parent's house, trying to figure out which to love each time. I worried myself sick over that story. I thought my parents would divorce, and I would be forced to choose, and that sickened my heart. Why did I really need to read that? So I'd be prepared? My parents will be married 55 years this June...it really wasn't an issue I needed to read about at 10. I would have learned in the years that followed more about divorce and kids having to spend their time split between their parents' homes...but I would have been more mature and less likely to fret so much.

Let's try to remember that children are young for such a short amount of time. There's no need to rush them into reading about the "issues" of the day. Let's let them stay innocent. And why not? We all know that time and life will change that.

Until then, keep these newer middle-grade books away and bring them out for the kids who need them...when they need them.

**********

What do you think? Is this an issue you faced as a child? What books do you remember reading that you felt too young for? 

Wordless Wednesday

15 Sweet Valentines

For some Valentine's Day is just another Hallmark occasion...a time to buy the clichéd cards and chocolates and express the stereotypical sayings about love.

For me, it's another occasion to praise God for the precious Valentine He gave me in 2001.

Happiest 15th Birthday

to our fantastically funny and gorgeously handsome son,

Edward Stuart!!

View on Flipagram

Wordless Wednesday

A Year in Review: 2015

In past years, I've gone through my photos and posted a photo or two from each month to try to remember what went on throughout the year. This year, I decided to choose photos and do a Flipagram with them.

Here for your viewing pleasure:

View on Flipagram

EIGHTEEN Years of Emily

 

Happiest 18th Birthday to the best-ever birthday gift and blessing that I've ever received!!!!

*   *   *

Doesn't God give the best gifts?

I guess, considering I was in labor for most of my birthday (she arrived after lunch), I gave myself God's gift to me. *wink-grin*

No regrets.

No sadness.

Just pure joy!!

So many people tease us about sharing a birthday...saying that Emily "took" my special day. I stare at them and think: Seriously?

As if any of us doesn't share our special day with somebody else. There are only 365 days in a year, 365 different chances to be born on a different day. Emily and I were born on the SAME day. If we believe we are preordained to be born at a certain point in time (and we do), then before I was born God had already decided Emily's birthday, too. It just hadn't happened yet.

And really. How cool is that???

*   *   *

So on this, OUR special day -- yours and mine -- I celebrate YOU, sweet girl!

No regrets ever.

No sadness ever.

Pure joy always!!

HaPpY HaPpY HaPpY dAy To YoU, EMILY SUSANNE FOOTE!

Seventeen Years of Emily -- Part 2

It's the night before our oldest child's 18th birthday...and she's not home. It's the first time in her whole life that she won't wake up in her own bed for her special day.

To be honest, it's a little odd...and a little sad.

But sad doesn't mean it's not right. She's in college, after all.

Part of living at college is being away from home, even during those special moments you've always celebrated at home.

I remember the first birthday I woke up in a different place... I was also a freshman at college, though I'd taken two years off to live in England with my parents. I turned 20.

I felt it was probably one of the most depressing parts of "growing up." Being alone on your birthday? Well, alone in a dorm is a little different than actually being alone. Although, I felt I might as well be alone to start with...no one really recognized that it was my birthday. Of course, I had my 21st birthday and my 22nd birthday...and my 23rd birthday at college, too. But by then I was more used to it...and had a few friends to celebrate it with.

I celebrated my 24th birthday in Honesdale, Pa., during my employment with Highlights for Children. Actually, that year is a bit of a blur since Stuart had a horrible accident that month and ended up in the hospital for nearly three weeks, and I had to go represent HFC's book side, Boyds Mills Press, at library book conferences in Harrisburg, Williamsburg, and Syracuse.

By my 25th birthday, I worked for the Reading Eagle and had to take off for my birthday. It was a company rule. You had to take a personal day for your birthday and one for your work anniversary, unless you were married and then it was your wedding anniversary.

That was the year "Birthday Adventures" were born. It wasn't elaborate or even very memorable, but I remember doing something different that year, like taking a bubble bath and getting a bunch of library books...and just relaxing.

I know that Emily will be a little bit sad to be away from home on her actual birthday. We'll head over to steal her away from campus later in the day after her classes. But she's growing up and spreading her wings and experiencing life in a whole new way.

And it may not necessary feel good...but it's right.

Sleep well, sweet girl. We are dreaming of you always.

Seventeen Years of Emily -- Part 1

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

Wordless (Mostly) Wednesday

From three years ago: