tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-40244738722385194492024-03-12T16:03:48.237-07:00LIFE IN BLOGGING...My hubby reminds me all the time we can control only so much... the rest I blog about! Enjoy the glimpse...Anonymoushttp://www.blogger.com/profile/13473654180755733163noreply@blogger.comBlogger155125tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4024473872238519449.post-19822141312071453292018-11-10T23:24:00.001-08:002018-11-10T23:30:05.193-08:00Love,love,love<p dir="ltr">When do you know you love someone? When they make a statement regarding your level of love and it crushes you? Or when they aren't around and your very being is at a complete loss? Love is one of those words that often gets easily tossed around, yet when you do use the word it can be met with laughter. Love can be confusing and conflicting. You love a sports team and you LOVE a plate of pasta, maybe even at the same time. The sports team may hurt you, the pasta may give you heart burn, but neither will give you heartache. <br>
Love... Love is one of those things that can easily be shown through flowers. But also with a clean kitchen. <br>
Love is simple and yet so complex, but apparently sometimes it isn't enough. </p>
Anonymoushttp://www.blogger.com/profile/13473654180755733163noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4024473872238519449.post-12398227095737657082018-10-23T21:00:00.001-07:002018-10-23T21:01:19.775-07:00Moving on<p dir="ltr">Three kids no more! Now we are 4! Well we are actually 5! My husband has never really had the opportunity to have a relationship with his son from a relationship before me. But we have added our Great niece. It has been crazy.<br>
It has been frustrating. My niece seems to be in somewhat denial of reality. She is really no longer her mother and we are adopting her daughter. The family dynamic is crazy. Therapy is the least of my concerns. The holidays are coming. I can't post on Facebook without my post being judged. Lord help me!</p>
Anonymoushttp://www.blogger.com/profile/13473654180755733163noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4024473872238519449.post-69917404850492740452018-03-05T11:17:00.002-08:002018-03-05T11:31:08.747-08:00Outshined? Or lighting it up?When one kid excels at everything he or she touches what do you do? Me, personally, I let her! The youngest of 3 with an age gap of 5 and 8 years between her and her siblings, it wasn't that far fetched that she would do anything to "keep up". Personally, if she could have gone to high school with her older sister (8 years difference) just to spend time with her, I think she would have.
Driven is a word that is thrown around a lot, determined gets added into the mix. I am not sure what exactly it is. She has those moments when she is totally satisfied being "the baby" of the family and wanting everyone to do for her. But then she has the more often than not, moments of sheer independence where she is the one capable of everything. If you want to come along for the ride, hurry up, train is leaving!
I often sign forms for school not bothering to even ask anymore what they are for. Permission to volunteer for this, permission to participate in a leadership program, permission to attend college next year. Wait- what? Oh, yeah, she has already taken a college class or two so sure... 3 more next year, and maybe some over the summer. Who is this kid?
I laugh when people caution me (which I get regularly)- make sure she doesn't get burned out. Um, I am not the one that signs her up for everything, I simply "approve" at the last minute. And I mean it! The form is always completely filled out and all I need to do is sign my name. She totally cracks me up. As for my other two.
"Shining" to me has always been based on the light that is cast. I am sure you can all remember a cloudy day when you looked at the sky and the sun was poking through the clouds in streams of light. The areas that were in the sun had no idea about the areas covered in darkness.
Each one of my kids offers unique perspectives to life. My oldest daughter is thoughtful and kind, tenderhearted, but cautions. She will laugh with you for hours, and hold you in your arms while you cry. She will drive out of her way to bring you a cold drink when you are really sick, and try to cheer you up, and then give you a hard time for getting sick in the first place. She will beg you to make her Dr.'s appointment for her and then tell you that you have to go to, because while she might be "an adult", there are still some things you "don't go alone". My son is complex to say the least. While men are supposed to be tough, he still is able to have compassion for those around him. He will look at a situation and see how he can help out. And while he will always argue with me about who loves who the most, the fact that he still wants me to know that he loves me, means the world. His place and path in this world is still being etched while he attends college, and I am enjoying watching him mature. My youngest daughter is our feisty one. And lately, most mentioned because she is the only one still attending high school. As mentioned before, she also is the most active. Not because the other two didn't that the opportunities, trust me, they were active in their own right and participated in everything they wanted to. But with her, she doesn't slow down, she doesn't have a stop button. I have gotten used to it.
Do any of my kids outshine one of another? Not from where I am standing. From where I stand I have three great sunbeams shining and lighting up this earth each in their own unique way! There's no darkness in my life, only hope and excitement for the future!
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://1.bp.blogspot.com/-JuAObzR7Gwc/Wp2WwsEpKmI/AAAAAAAACCI/YE2xpwY1etkt0Pi5RWrPql3uiw6xPq00wCLcBGAs/s1600/sun%2Bbeam.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://1.bp.blogspot.com/-JuAObzR7Gwc/Wp2WwsEpKmI/AAAAAAAACCI/YE2xpwY1etkt0Pi5RWrPql3uiw6xPq00wCLcBGAs/s320/sun%2Bbeam.jpg" width="320" height="214" data-original-width="634" data-original-height="424" /></a></div>Anonymoushttp://www.blogger.com/profile/13473654180755733163noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4024473872238519449.post-42169964902083191282018-02-17T17:19:00.000-08:002018-02-17T17:19:01.164-08:00Blessed to be surroundedIn life there are people who will be in your life. You may or may not know their intentions. I am blessed by being surrounded by people who are in my life because they want to be and they are truly invested in my life as much as I am in theirs.
If people are toxic in your life... Treat them like a cold- get rid of them! Sorround yourself with people who make you the best version of you!
❤Anonymoushttp://www.blogger.com/profile/13473654180755733163noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4024473872238519449.post-27737533496670224152018-02-09T22:31:00.001-08:002018-03-05T11:29:03.312-08:00Not a waste but felt like it... But not to her<p dir="ltr">An hour drive to watch my kid get walked twice would feel like a wasted night. Especially since we have to get up the next morning at 5 am & be at the school for an NJROTC competition. But truth be told, not seeing her play, although very frustrating, is also always a teaching moment. She amazes me. She got in the truck tonight, and sure she was extremely upset she didn't play, but what she focused on was everything about the game. Everything in the position and other positions (that she plays or otherwise) and she picked apart issues in a way I had never heard her do. It wasn't so much out of anger, but out of frustration this time. She knows the game. And she knows she studies the game, the positions and plays within it. <br>
She may have sat out tonight, and just batted, but when she was called up, the pitcher didn't get her number. Nope not tonight.<br>
Tonight she played smart.</p>
Anonymoushttp://www.blogger.com/profile/13473654180755733163noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4024473872238519449.post-26085168577988272062018-01-19T09:38:00.001-08:002018-01-19T09:38:13.322-08:00Checked out<p dir="ltr">Sometimes in life I fear things become a treadmill. Just a non stop, not really going anywhere race that leaves you burnt out. The strive for prefection causes further distance from people close in your life. While you often want to be the best for those around you, you end up pushing them away while on your quest. <br>
I am often reminded how fragile life really is everytime we hear about the person who everyone thought had everything together and then takes their life or overdoses on drugs. How does that happen? I truly believe that people wake up one day and just check out. It just becomes too much. Too much to be what everyone else sees or too much to maintain. Slowly or sometimes abruptly they just withdraw and checkout. Sometimes withdrawing from social groups, sometimes it starts with social media. People don't take notice because well, everyone has enough on their own plates. Unfortunately, as this person checks out of more and more things and fewer and fewer people notice them that's when it seems everything really happens. How does a person overdose on drugs and people didn't know they were taking them- they were alone! <br>
I look at my circle and know that while I may check out for the night, I never check out for life. </p>
Anonymoushttp://www.blogger.com/profile/13473654180755733163noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4024473872238519449.post-10599470275397619062015-09-04T05:55:00.001-07:002015-09-04T05:55:47.598-07:00You make the call... I did!<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-tzvp0glBakA/VemO5EInHeI/AAAAAAAAB2Q/I8mVm7RoRnI/s1600/black-woman-crying-small.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="207" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-tzvp0glBakA/VemO5EInHeI/AAAAAAAAB2Q/I8mVm7RoRnI/s320/black-woman-crying-small.jpg" width="320" /></a></div>
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<br /></div>
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;">
<br /></div>
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;">
My normal route to work is pretty standard- turn on the main road, turn, turn, highway, exit, turn, turn, highway...etc... </div>
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;">
<br /></div>
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;">
This morning was different. I needed to pick something up at a local store. A quick in and out... That is always the plan, that is the way I shop! Those that know me, know I hate shopping. That is Rich's thing. I was totally successful. Less than 3 minutes! I actually thought I was breaking some sort of record, when a voice called out to me. (oh, no... I am doing so well- was really my first thought). I turned to look. Standing there was a woman/girl a little taller than me, and a little bigger than me... my sisters would tell you- I could still "take her" if it came down to it, but that was beside the point. It is 6:20 am and for once I was ahead of schedule! </div>
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;">
<br /></div>
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;">
In this day in age, it has become a norm for people to come up to people and ask for "spare change" for all sorts of reasons and everyone has a story. So people, unfortunately, have become numb to others needs, and look (or run) the other way. I made the call, I turned around...</div>
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;">
<br /></div>
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;">
I already had my excuses lined up (as usual)... I never carry cash, and I don't have any change, I'm sorry... But before I could speak, she cut me off... She said she wasn't looking for money, she just wanted to go home, and then her tears flowed. She said she lived where I was headed. (DAMN... I don't have an excuse for that one... she doesn't know where I am going, I could lie). Then she said how she got "here" in the first place... trusted a friend... That friend had betrayed her further and his buddy was talking smack about having too much fun with her... She got out. But in an area she knew nothing about, and now had no way of getting back. </div>
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;">
<br /></div>
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;">
I instantly saw my two girls. I saw them talking to a complete stranger and it scared me. I was scared to think who would help and what would happen. I saw a girl in front of me with nothing but a cell phone that was dead... I made the call... </div>
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;">
<br /></div>
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;">
Plugging her address into my GPS it was within minutes of my office, a little out of my way, but close enough. I prayed traffic would stay on my side. It did.</div>
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;">
<br /></div>
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;">
The trip over seemed fast. She spoke about work and school, was grateful to not have either today. And was worried about facing her mom. Again my thoughts turned to my girls, and even my son. I told her how important it was to talk to her mom and let her know what happened. And for me, it was going to be important to talk to my kids... make sure they knew that regardless of time... we would always take the call. I don't ever want my kids standing in a parking lot asking strangers for help, only to have them ignored, fearing for their safety.</div>
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;">
<br /></div>
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;">
As we arrived at her house, she thanked me several times, and then said... "oh, my Mom"... To which, I responded, "she's probably worried about you. Let her know you got home safe.- There are still good people out there." To which she smiled, and said- "Thanks for turning around!"</div>
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;">
<br /></div>
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;">
Yeah... I made the right call!</div>
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;">
<br /></div>
<br />
<br />Anonymoushttp://www.blogger.com/profile/13473654180755733163noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4024473872238519449.post-54719420058193944322015-05-03T00:10:00.000-07:002015-05-03T00:37:53.908-07:00Say it like it isMy mom used to get on me for being a little too blunt at times. When I was little I very matter of factly asked a woman (much to my mothers horror) "are you pregnant or are you just fat?" the woman answered... She wasn't pregnant... And I didn't let it go (of coarse not) "is your husband fat too?" (nothing like a pre- schooler reminding you of your current health situation at a grocery store to help you make purchasing decisions). Well, she paused and she actually chuckled, meanwhile my mother had now become one with the shopping cart in hopes she would not become a causality in one of my latest outburst. As the woman started to answer, (of course my mother was apologising, the woman declared that yes in fact he was. (Gee surprise- not). To which (of coarse- you didn't think it ended there) - I declared "neat- match- match!" I was such a straight forward call it like it is kid!<br />
<br />
Now some people would have scooped up their kid and never let that conversation blossom into the diabetic revelation that it did. But the great thing about my Mom is she always let me see things through- barring blowing up the house.<br />
I am sure, without a doubt, she learned that from her Dad. Grandpa Sam never let me blow up the garage or destroy the basement, but he let me make mistakes. Then he'd calmly walk me through the resolution. Dropping a set of wrenches once, while helping him work on a car became a lesson on measurements. They all had to go back, in order. He didn't raise his voice, he just looked down and said... "Well, I didn't think you needed to know where all the wrenches went, but now is as good time as any." While putting them away he would remark at what a fine job I was doing. His little whistle and shuffle back to his work station or the car are some of my favorite sounds. He'd comment on the importance of certain things and tell me how to get out of others....<br />
Yep, saying it like it is is something you learn. But you also learn when to hold your tongue, how to be patient, and how to be caring. One of my hopes in life is that I am passing on that calm to my kids. His patients and ability to say it like it is without harming of others (maybe I am still working on that). Teaching moments are all around us and I hope I capture them with the sheer awesomeness my Grandpa did!<br />
<br />
I miss you every day Grandpa- just saying it like it is!Anonymoushttp://www.blogger.com/profile/13473654180755733163noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4024473872238519449.post-88369694374653638762015-02-09T06:43:00.000-08:002018-03-05T09:45:18.154-08:00Timeless ParentingAs each year passes, I find myself thinking back to the beginning. Rolling up to the field and trying to convince Elizabeth to stay in her stroller. That was a losing discussion from the beginning. She was off to the races right from the start. She always has been.<br />
<br />
Now, over 10 seasons later, and many trips to the Doctor and ER with all of the kids, the one thing I do know is I wouldn't miss a single moment for anything!<br />
<br />
I still get excited with each crack of the bat, every play, every awesome feet they accomplish. And while I am the first to help bring them back down to earth and remind them Nike isn't knocking at our door signing any deals (yet), I am definitely their biggest fan!<br />
<br />
Being a parent is a timeless act.<br />
<br />
I know how delighted I still get when something I do makes me swell with pride, and yet the first think I want to do is share it with my parents (who live several states away). My parents have never shied away from congratulations in fear of creating "big egos". They also weren't afraid of knocking us down a peg or two. We grew up, and they have never stopped being parents... Timeless!<br />
<br />
Nothing felt better than hugging my daughter last night and telling her how proud I am of her. Not just because in 5 games in two days she had 2 in the park home runs, and 3 RBI's (yeah I can brag a little- it's my blog!) But I am proud of who she is, as a teammate, as a person, as my daughter. If they had lost every game, she would have gotten the same hug!<br />
<br />
I hope years from know she'll look back on these years and not remember the trophies or awards she received (those are great too), but remember all the people that were around her. The friends that hugged her in the dugout (or pounded her head when she scored). The high-fives she got from coaches and their non-stop encouragement. The times her Dad coached her and worked long hours with her to help her grow or was her umpire and set her straight. The times she spent with other trainers working hard to get better. And lastly, the fence... when she looked through the fence what she always saw...<br />
It's awesome being her mom. It's awesome being a mom to three great kids!!!<br />
<br />
I love watching them grow and can't wait to see what life will continue to bring them.<br />
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-0KQuXHnkJVI/VNjFxC348XI/AAAAAAAABzo/Srz2QwSmFzY/s1600/WP_20150208_027.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-0KQuXHnkJVI/VNjFxC348XI/AAAAAAAABzo/Srz2QwSmFzY/s1600/WP_20150208_027.jpg" height="180" width="320" /></a></div>
<br />
<br />Anonymoushttp://www.blogger.com/profile/13473654180755733163noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4024473872238519449.post-85435346601442205022014-12-09T06:07:00.000-08:002014-12-09T06:07:22.242-08:00Are we there yet?Sometimes I wonder where "there" is. How do you know when you actual get there either? So often people spend there lives searching for something or somewhere, they miss out on what is right in front of them.<br />
<br />I am truly blessed by an awesome supportive family! And I know it! I have a husband who knows how to work every appliance in my house- and does! I have kids that can cook- and do. I have pets that, well, are pets, but show affection in their own way.<br /><br />I hear people complain about their jobs, how they "hate" corporate American, how they are so happy to live a life free of it (when they leave it). I also hear them complain about their family and what they don't do... seriously? Be grateful they are here! My husband and I work in the public sector (government work) and have never had the "high paying" crazy outlandish salaries people complain about with government work. Not that I would complain... No, we have done the work. Put in the hours (and then some). But not received that pay everyone just assumes all government employees make. <br /><br />But more importantly along the way we have helped many people, some we knew, most we don't. Our biggest hope was and is to be an example to our children in the same way our parents have been for us. Rich followed in his Father's footsteps and it has led to a great career (and a retirement already!). As for me, I watched my Father pack a suit case for years and travel all over the country on a moments notice to help out several different companies in need, and my Mom's kindness and empathy always impressed me as she dealt with various people. In the dental field I took that compassion to heart, and in my government position I melded both lessons (leaving the suitcase at home) to learn how I could service my community better.<br />
<br />
Are we there... yet? Who knows... But I do know that we are very blessed to have great teachers in life that set a path for us to follow. Our road continues to have all sorts of bumps and turns, and with my awesome husband and family... I thoroughly enjoy the ride!<br />
<br />
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-LC9yHUvzCMs/VIcAgZB-IvI/AAAAAAAABys/1gw5e-FeJ24/s1600/Photo(4).jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-LC9yHUvzCMs/VIcAgZB-IvI/AAAAAAAABys/1gw5e-FeJ24/s1600/Photo(4).jpg" height="318" width="320" /></a></div>
<br />
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-eHxj_xgRhM8/VIcAk2d10SI/AAAAAAAABy0/ZllwfoAhYrc/s1600/WP_20140629_00220140629141458.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-eHxj_xgRhM8/VIcAk2d10SI/AAAAAAAABy0/ZllwfoAhYrc/s1600/WP_20140629_00220140629141458.jpg" height="216" width="320" /></a></div>
<br />
<br />Anonymoushttp://www.blogger.com/profile/13473654180755733163noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4024473872238519449.post-86135736585560359662014-12-05T04:54:00.001-08:002014-12-05T04:59:47.348-08:00What I've learned at 6:30 amI am NOT an early bird. I'm not really a late bird (or night owl) either. No I'm a pillow puff. (Aubrism) Give me a nice comfy relaxing place and soft pillow and Wham! I can sleep. (See other blog for details!) But I have found that since my school schedule ended and I have no true desire to start a Doctorate, my "alternate" work schedule hasn't changed one bit.<br />
<br />
Coming in to work at 6:30 am has provided me with several insights. Mostly about myself, but some about people, in general.<br />
<br />
For one, no one makes coffee in an empty building. When I arrive, I am the first one here most days. I'm here before security. So I'm on my own, literately. No coffee, and no security. Just me and my key card. Locked doors behind me, and hopes no one "finds" there way in.<br />
<br />
Sounds are louder when no one is around. I hear everything when I am alone. Yet have the ability to tune out everything when everyone arrives. Peoples phone conversations, doors opening from comings and goings, and even the occasional ring of my own desk phone when I am working on a project.<br />
<br />
My hair looks awesome at 6:30 am! Not so much at 4:30 pm. Who knows if its the Florida weather, or my playing with it during the day when I get frustrated, or taking my sunglasses on and off my head all day. But by the end of the day, it shows. Want a "fancy" picture of me? Schedule it early! That's all I'm saying.<br />
<br />
Although I am not a "big breakfast" kind of girl, I do enjoy my complete alone time before people arrive to sit at my desk, work on stuff and eat fruit or whatever without being bugged.<br />
<br />
I have also learned that when it comes to getting stuff done- it is the best time for me! But I have to be careful. I have sent emails, only to get phone calls from people surprised I was in and then wanting me to look into more or hoping I could take on more without asking my boss. I have returned voice mails (to their voice mail) only to have them call me right back with the same results. So I do review and answer carefully. There are whole groups of people that know I am here and know they can get a hold of me, in a pinch. But that I am using my early time as catch-up time.<br />
<br />
When you come in early- you leave early. But I have learned some people don't understand that concept and get upset when they see you leaving. Even though when they arrived to work (almost two hours later) you had work waiting for them on their desks, and you had emailed (or replied to emails) making it clear you weren't at home sleeping in the comforts of your bed... Nope, even before the sun was up you were hard at work answering the unknown.<br />
<br />
The biggest thing I have learned at 6:30 am is that I really do type loudly. No I mean it! I thought that my keystrokes weren't all that bad, but man does my keyboard take a beating.<br />
<br />
Okay, seriously, I've learned that one of the best things is that when you are struggling in life, all the prayer warriors are up (well most of them anyway). And they are quick to let you know they are thinking of you and will keep you in their thoughts. (I KNOW NOT WHERE YOU THOUGHT THAT WAS GOING).<br />
<br />
I am always grateful to all the people in my life that take the time to "follow" what's going, share a laugh, and understand that some things we just have to roll with, some we pray about, the rest we blog about.<br />
<br />
Enjoy the rest of your day!<br />
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-6b_4nr-l1T4/VIGqpg9dFxI/AAAAAAAAByc/uXvjAh5GorY/s1600/WP_20141205_001.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-6b_4nr-l1T4/VIGqpg9dFxI/AAAAAAAAByc/uXvjAh5GorY/s1600/WP_20141205_001.jpg" height="180" width="320" /></a></div>
<br />Anonymoushttp://www.blogger.com/profile/13473654180755733163noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4024473872238519449.post-1770102293008598142014-11-03T09:02:00.001-08:002014-11-03T09:02:35.221-08:00Kids and "their" legacyOften I see parents "living the dream" through their kids. The "Monday Morning" quarterback gives new meaning once they become a parent to a child protege. Fights break out (among adults) over the simplest of things, clearly "little Jeter" should have been safe... And no one wants to mess with a parent who is well versed with "the rules". (Well their version of the rules anyway).<br />
<br />
I have coached/managed youth sports in the past. I have also sat in the stands during various sports including soccer, softball, baseball, and football learning all along the way- no one is ever really "right". I have learned to walk away. Disagreeing, I might, but arguing, I hold my tongue, saying nothing, and simply nod allowing the other parent (s) to voice their frustrations, and then... walk away...<br />
<br />
My hope in the gesture, is that I leave a level headed legacy my children can appreciate. One that my daughter sees as non- confrontational. I don't NEED to be "right", to be "right". If other parents feel they "won"-okay. But I didn't look like a foul over pettiness. To me, that really is "winning".<br />
<br />
As for my kids, I want their legacy to be the same. I want them to hold their heads high. Sure, I don't want them to back away from things, but I also don't want them to fight for the fights sake. I want them to know real compassion. I want them to have honor in the actions they show others. I want their hearts to be a beacon for others to aspire to. At the end of a game, I want others to be encouraged, not because of how many hits or runs my child had, but because of how she lifted her team and encouraged them winning or losing. I want my child's legacy to be one that is talked about for all the positive reasons children should play sports. <br />
<br />
I want her ability to laugh at herself and have fun to carry her through her hardest days in life so others see that struggles aren't that bad and do build character. And most importantly, I want people to know, that being close to your family is truly a gift and my kids were stronger because of it. I want people to understand that while my husband and I may not have steamed up the corporate ladder and barreled our way through to the top, we did something even better, we raised an awesome legacy! We are so proud of all our kids and the legacy each one will leave behind.<br />
<br />
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-yWeFFFcR8s0/VFeo-T4JNKI/AAAAAAAABw8/7oAzgB6CNic/s1600/WP_20141025_018.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-yWeFFFcR8s0/VFeo-T4JNKI/AAAAAAAABw8/7oAzgB6CNic/s1600/WP_20141025_018.jpg" height="180" width="320" /></a></div>
<br />
<br />
<br />
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-3vUwIGhzkfY/VFerDSy5TdI/AAAAAAAABxs/JQ4ULMvU_J4/s1600/WP_20141028_005.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-3vUwIGhzkfY/VFerDSy5TdI/AAAAAAAABxs/JQ4ULMvU_J4/s1600/WP_20141028_005.jpg" height="180" width="320" /></a></div>
<br />
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-j9Rqa4vXOyQ/VFerDc6VZqI/AAAAAAAABxo/_n1MxC9Ym1E/s1600/WP_20141030_003.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-j9Rqa4vXOyQ/VFerDc6VZqI/AAAAAAAABxo/_n1MxC9Ym1E/s1600/WP_20141030_003.jpg" height="180" width="320" /></a></div>
<br />
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-OxKyOiTAXlI/VFe0fUHhpqI/AAAAAAAAByI/Pk8v40zZc2s/s1600/WP_20141031_007.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-OxKyOiTAXlI/VFe0fUHhpqI/AAAAAAAAByI/Pk8v40zZc2s/s1600/WP_20141031_007.jpg" height="180" width="320" /></a></div>
<br />
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-JTl2ncHFhpM/VFerDQ52QkI/AAAAAAAABxw/Qb6-FvKfBNc/s1600/WP_20141101_009.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-JTl2ncHFhpM/VFerDQ52QkI/AAAAAAAABxw/Qb6-FvKfBNc/s1600/WP_20141101_009.jpg" height="180" width="320" /></a></div>
I LOVE how well rounded she is! One week... Choir concert, softball fields (practices and games), Field Trip, and then Orchestra with me- not to mention school!<br /><br />
<span id="goog_1686374916"></span><span id="goog_1686374917"></span><br />Anonymoushttp://www.blogger.com/profile/13473654180755733163noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4024473872238519449.post-56872867014609324182014-08-18T04:50:00.000-07:002014-08-18T04:50:27.114-07:00Who will show up?Thinking about it, I sometimes wonder. If I were to die today, who would show up? Would it be people wanting to make sure I was really gone? Or would it be a room full of people consumed with grief over the loss from the many ways I have touched their lives?<br />
<br />
My hope, the later...<br />
<br />
So often we go about our lives collecting business cards, adding Facebook names, putting names in our phone contacts, and boosting our "network". For what? Are we impacting the lives of those people, or hoping those people will answer our call when we need them most for whatever cause we call on them for.<br />
<br />
From the kids fundraiser to a too short notice out of town trip with needed pet care, we rely on the contacts in our lives we see flash through our lives, hoping they will respond. Acting annoyed, even, when they have other things on their plates. Seriously?<br />
<br />
But then in a flash, it all stops. One day you are gone. It might just be old age, it could be all those sodas you said you didn't drink (when no one was looking). Either way, there's the obituary in the paper that a family member spent hours trying to write. Wanting to honor you, not forgetting anyone, or offending anyone, but also not acting as though you were a patron saint the Vatican has somehow overlooked thus sending the people who really knew you into needless eye-rolling... yes, the end has come... what did your legacy leave for the ones you left behind?<br />
<br />
For me, this day will come. I am fully aware of that. It won't come for a billion years, (okay, maybe that's a stretch) but since I live my life like super-mom leaping tall buildings (or at least jogging to the car for an inhaler during a softball try-out) I am sure everyone is stuck with me.<br />
<br />
Being stuck with me actually means a few things!<br />
Living your life for others is really not that hard. Its not the "being a mom" living your life type. Sure, picking up the kids and running around seems like fun. Sure! Who doesn't want to live their life in the carpool lane with all the other happy Moms (and Dads)? No, I'm talking about looking around and seeing what can't be done and doing that. There are so many people in your own neighborhood that struggle for some reason (age, health, income, etc) and just need a little help. In some cases, its just knowing you are there. How hard is that?<br />
Remember growing up? Remember how you knew all the people in your neighborhood and they knew you? Name 5 of your neighbors now, and their kids! Not so easy... yet if they came out panicking because they were missing, would you help look? I would.<br />
<br />
Each day we wake up and make decisions. We decide what we wear, what we eat, and who we talk to.<br />
<br />
Be intentional in your life. Make decisions that say- I showed up. I care. It's not just about me.<br />
<br />
That's how I'll be remembered... one day...<br />
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-qhA_CTVbsyA/U_HoUS8DIVI/AAAAAAAABvg/eHNh978vPtE/s1600/IMG_4177.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-qhA_CTVbsyA/U_HoUS8DIVI/AAAAAAAABvg/eHNh978vPtE/s1600/IMG_4177.JPG" height="320" width="291" /></a></div>
<br />
<br />Anonymoushttp://www.blogger.com/profile/13473654180755733163noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4024473872238519449.post-88892004457711024372014-06-22T20:09:00.001-07:002014-08-18T04:20:15.601-07:00Years<div>
<br /></div>
Often I find myself wondering how time flies. It seems like yesterday I was making a huge decision and moving to Florida with a little guy that didn't quite understand. Now 13 years later so much has happened that one little blog post hardly does it justice. Sure there have been moments when I was totally homesick, missing my family, coffee with my Mom. But I wouldn't give up my life for anything in the world.<br />
<div>
What and who I gained are so precious to me, I am beyond blessed. So while it may not seem like it enough, I know where I am in this world, where I'm headed, and where I belong. That's a pretty awesome feeling...</div>
<div>
<div class="separator" style="clear: both;">
<a href="https://lh6.googleusercontent.com/-HWPi2Gp1XCA/U6eaeYHJIhI/AAAAAAAABu0/ejoDLIRvMUQ/s640/blogger-image--448421602.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://lh6.googleusercontent.com/-HWPi2Gp1XCA/U6eaeYHJIhI/AAAAAAAABu0/ejoDLIRvMUQ/s640/blogger-image--448421602.jpg" /></a></div>
<div class="separator" style="clear: both;">
Thanks honey for walking this path with me, sometimes leading the way, sometimes letting me take the lead... It's an awesome journey, and I wouldn't want to share it with anyone else!</div>
<br /></div>
Anonymoushttp://www.blogger.com/profile/13473654180755733163noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4024473872238519449.post-47486772600736418652014-06-17T09:14:00.001-07:002014-06-17T09:14:14.021-07:00Carry onMany years ago I embarked on a journey... Yeah that sounds so cool doesn't it?<br />
Well, motherhood often is. Knowing that during the journey you really aren't driving but merely a passenger along for the best ride of your life let's you have the best views!<br />
<br />
It starts in the beginning with this tiny little life that depends on you for, well as everyone knows, everything. Then at two, they have grown into independent "own-self" little people that find their way into a world of "can do". Around 5 they learn a little help isn't such a bad thing, unless someone is watching. Then come the "years" from 8-12 where each child varies some are drastically dependent on their parents for everything while others couldn't be farther if they lived on their own island. Around 13-14 (if not earlier anymore) comes that first TRUE I mean true heart break and that's when parents (and their reactions) play such a vital role. "Lift your chin, there's other fishes" or "let's take care of you" parents often pave the way for the future... ahhh... 15 not quite there, but not back there either that age when older friends are leaving and new friends are "too childish" a true sandwich- and parents are clueless. Then comes 16- sorry parents, you're still idiots, but at least now the child has dreams, hopes, and know what they want out of life (even if they believe its super easy for all of it to just happen). I love 17-19! This is where it gets real. Money becomes real, things actually cost something. There is value to things and the tree in the back isn't where money is made. All the years of past lectures finally seem to sink in, (sort of) they may still act like you are a complete moron- but they are starting to see that some of those hard lessons you have been trying to drive home weren't because you enjoyed hearing yourself sound like your parents (wasn't that creepy the first time).<br />
<br />
Off to college or moving out... that next phase... independence. I remember it well. No longer under my parents health insurance, a car payment, auto insurance, rent, utilities, gas, food, and everything else, paying for everything with what I made. It's amazing my life wasn't more than just Ramen noodles. I sure did stumble along the way...<br />
<br />
But the good news is just like I know my kids will... we carry on. The journey is a great one... carry on...<br />
<br />
<br />
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<iframe allowfullscreen='allowfullscreen' webkitallowfullscreen='webkitallowfullscreen' mozallowfullscreen='mozallowfullscreen' width='320' height='266' src='https://www.youtube.com/embed/q7yCLn-O-Y0?feature=player_embedded' frameborder='0'></iframe></div>
<br />Anonymoushttp://www.blogger.com/profile/13473654180755733163noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4024473872238519449.post-21455372004128435972014-03-13T17:33:00.001-07:002014-03-13T17:33:01.639-07:00What! What!My youngest recently posted a photo on her Facebook page that made me pause for a moment. It wasn't bad, it was her. And she was gorgeous! All grown up! I couldn't believe my little girl was so grown up. But no matter what, she still loves her parents and gives loves, hugs, and respect...<div><br></div><div>Guess we are doing it right!</div>Anonymoushttp://www.blogger.com/profile/13473654180755733163noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4024473872238519449.post-3289240801066137092014-03-07T05:47:00.000-08:002014-03-07T09:26:03.744-08:00Almost grown up, but not yetSometimes its hard to remember my kids aren't grown ups. Weird. I know. You look back at when they were born and you struggled to figure out why they were crying- diaper is clean, they were fed, burped, they even slept, you'd hold them, and they still just weren't happy.<br />
<br />
Then they would talk... and boy did they. What language was that? I, for one, never believed in "baby talk". It was hard enough to learn "proper" English, let alone a created language that a child would outgrow in time. Besides, nothing like calling out to a 16-17 year old to pick up a "wooby" (blanket) in front of his now girlfriend. AWESOME! Just wasn't going to happen. Not to mention, I didn't have time to teach a made-up language to any hopeful babysitter I might attract when the kids were little.<br />
<br />
Seriously, I can't tell you how many babysitting jobs I had as a teen that started off with well intended parents giving me their child's dictionary for communication. I think the parents may have been a little surprised to come home and learn their child knew how to speak real words (and wasn't crying- but laughing).<br />
<br />
Now my youngest is 12, my son is 17 (almost 18), and our oldest is 19 (almost 20). While our oldest just recently spread her wings reaching that "grown-up" stage, the phone calls to Dad any time something comes up is that sure sign that while things are moving along... there's still that little wiggle room for need (which is a good thing). Then there are the other two, which brings me to my actual topic!<br />
<br />
I am totally one for teaching independence. As soon as each of my kids could reach the buttons on the washing machine they now could be responsible for completely doing their own laundry (they have days of the week for that so no one is on top of each other). Folding and putting away has been their job since they could open and close their drawers. Why? I don't wear their clothes! If it is important to them, they will take care of it, and for the most part they do.<br />
Dishes are pretty much the same story. I am crazy when it comes to having a clean kitchen. If they can reach the sink, they can help with dishes. Loading/unloading the dishwasher or hand-washing dishes has always been one of the biggest "tasks" that seems to be a labor of love.<br />
Their rooms are no different (cleaning, vacuuming, etc).<br />
<br />
Then came cooking... I was raised in a house as the oldest of four girls and on my Mom's side of the family the oldest of six granddaughters. It was never said that "females shall learn to cook", but it was certainly taught. Both my Mom and Grandma included me and my sisters as soon as we were tall enough to help (with anything). So when it came to my kids I took the same approach, if they came into the kitchen during prep time- it was because they wanted to help!<br />
<br />
The great part of cooking is it involves reading. It involves measurements, calculations (math), and it involves critical thinking. If the meat dish takes 40 minutes, the veggies only take 10 minutes, what time should I start them so they'll be hot and not over cooked? But cooking also involves patients, and most importantly, it involves attention without distractions.<br />
<br />
It's that last part that adults sometimes forget doesn't always mix well with kids (and some adults). With today's distractions I find myself thinking of the movie "UP" and hearing the dog talking interrupting himself frequently with the distracted "SQUIRREL!". Is it any wonder there aren't more house fires as kids start their favorite snack only to hear the theme song to their favorite tv show and 20 minutes later remember "oh yeah, I'm cooking!". Luckily, most kids think cooking is microwave only, and most kids only know how to cook using the number system rather than some of the fancy pre-set systems. But I am sure many kids have lost bags of popcorn, or over cooked that "Easy Mac" and just sucked it up.<br />
<br />
But the stove! Oh the Stove! Some parents would say- YOU SERIOUSLY LET THEM GO NEAR IT WHEN YOU AREN'T AROUND? Ah yeah! And I let them cross the street too! I do NOT plan on moving WITH them or going to college WITH them. They have to learn. Do I want a house fire? Oh, HELL NO! But I also want them to grow up. Which means making some mistakes along the way.<br />
While I won't throw any one person under the bus... I know some adults that have had the fire alarm go off a few times letting their kids know "dinner is ready". So to say distractions only happen to teenagers, well, that's silly... BUT one would hope that this learning moment helps in that growing up process.<br />
<br />
Because after all... they're almost grown up, but not yet!<br />
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-Sgq2TiIW_bI/UxnL93WtN2I/AAAAAAAABrs/pV-FRqxO1e8/s1600/WP_20140201_005.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-Sgq2TiIW_bI/UxnL93WtN2I/AAAAAAAABrs/pV-FRqxO1e8/s1600/WP_20140201_005.jpg" height="180" width="320" /></a></div>
<br />Anonymoushttp://www.blogger.com/profile/13473654180755733163noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4024473872238519449.post-68862893976783191352014-01-11T20:09:00.001-08:002014-03-07T09:40:24.182-08:00Life's blinkIt's always amazing how things change in a blink on an eye. You can be having the greatest day of your life, having spent it doing wonderful things, but receive news about a love one and everything changes.<br />
<div>
<br /></div>
<div>
Bright eyes...</div>
<div>
Years ago, longer than I can even remember, my Dad gave us nicknames that would be unique to him. I became his "bright eyes". He said they always smiled, they always were happy, and they always shined- they were just bright! He could count on me to provide a sense of happiness with just a look. Wow! Now that's powerful! Powerful to tell a child that they can make them smile because of the inner brightness. On some of my hardest days in life, I have always wanted at the very least, for my eyes to shine bright, his bright eyes.</div>
<div>
<br /></div>
<div>
Last years loss of my Grandmother was hard, crushing, but also timely. It was my Dad who at one point needed a hug, and as I was hugging him, stopped and looked at me right in the eyes... Teary, he said, "thank you my bright eyes, I really needed that." </div>
<div>
<br /></div>
<div>
During that time, I tried to hold it together for the family. My mom had lost her Mom, my Dad had lost what had become one of his best friends, and my sisters were all grieving in various ways. For me, the oldest, I was in solutions mode, fix it all, grieve later. Keep my chin up, and my eyes bright...</div>
<div>
<br /></div>
<div>
The last couple of weeks have seen a new struggle. My Dad has had various surgeries, a hip replacement, some other health stuff. But then came his heart. Nothing can prepare you for issues with your parents and their heart. Everyone knows how the body works, heart-good, no heart.... You get it... </div>
<div>
<br /></div>
<div>
For those that follow here and there, or those that barely know me, some wonder- why the two names? Well... I have two men in my life that earned and won my heart. I married one, the other one I let adopt me and be my Dad... Yeah, I said "let". But the truth is he chose to be my Dad, that was what was in his heart, for me to be his. Not a "step" anything... But his. So I'm not quite ready for any "blink of the eye" changes just yet... </div>
<div>
No, I still enjoy being his "Bright Eyes".<br />
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-asmkZqNb8LQ/UxoEffjMbtI/AAAAAAAABsM/EaNjbMpaZZg/s1600/Photo(1).jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-asmkZqNb8LQ/UxoEffjMbtI/AAAAAAAABsM/EaNjbMpaZZg/s1600/Photo(1).jpg" height="320" width="320" /></a></div>
<br /></div>
<div>
<div class="separator" style="clear: both;">
</div>
<br /></div>
Anonymoushttp://www.blogger.com/profile/13473654180755733163noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4024473872238519449.post-14994768881989177642013-12-23T23:30:00.001-08:002013-12-23T23:30:26.193-08:00HolidaysWith my niece having a baby this Christmas, there would be plenty to be happy about... one would think. But with all the loss from last year and the continued loss this year, its hard not to think of those that will not be around. I know each year people get all excited for those shiny toys and the new stuff. But I often wonder what about all the people that are gone, are they watching? Are they proud?<br />
I never just stop during the holidays, as any follower would know, but its especially during these times I wonder, when everyone is together and some of their traditions start being forgotten do they frown?<br />
Sure, with everyone new traditions are born, some for the better! I'm glad I don't take a horse and carriage to well, anywhere. But instead, I can get into a car and go, because a tradition of thinking was broken, yet horses haven't gone away.<br />
<br />
So no, we don't have to worry too much that all will be lost, but we should take a few moments, and make sure that we do honor those that came before us, that paved the way. Teach our children just a few things that made us who we are today. With any luck, those moments will help guide the next generation back into a brighter tradition.<br />
<br />
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-5NCjxcGA10c/Urk32xVc_vI/AAAAAAAABfg/gtwyechQQGk/s1600/option+1.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="213" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-5NCjxcGA10c/Urk32xVc_vI/AAAAAAAABfg/gtwyechQQGk/s320/option+1.jpg" width="320" /></a></div>
Anonymoushttp://www.blogger.com/profile/13473654180755733163noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4024473872238519449.post-89716155528126034952013-12-16T21:48:00.001-08:002013-12-16T21:48:12.557-08:00Heart painEver wonder what people are really thinking? Ever think maybe it's better that you don't know? Some people do well with criticism, while other do a couple things- 1) get very upset and fight back 2) fall into a hole and just implode. I'm glad I had the opportunity in life to learn from some of the greatest on how to handle life's fights. Sometimes you just don't need to put a horse into the race, sometimes you find every horse on the farm.... But I don't need to fight. I know where I stand in life. And I do know what's right and wrong. I also know I'll be really glad when it's January....<div> This isn't my season. There I've said it, ba hum bug, it is what it is, but the bottom line is while so many are excited about all the "things" this time of year brings, I'm fighting to keep my heart from breaking into a billion pieces (all over again). Stupid as it is, but my life has solace in it. I have succumb to the notion that some things happened in life for a reason, and I wouldn't be on my current path if I had endured a torn heart at one time or another. At some point, however, the pieces do become ultra tiny, and fitting them back together becomes a task that takes on a whole new job. </div><div>Each winter season I am blessed with the sun. I am not pounded by the unforgiving biting cold to further remind me of my losses. The days the air has the crisp bite, I only have to breathe a little deeper to take in the salt air, rather than fear the dry air grown accustomed in the cold northern air. Life changes, as have I. I try each year to make it the best I can for my kids.</div><div>This year the tree went up, I created new decorations, and the village looks great with the train. I hope it can be enough to fill the spaces where my heart still breaks....</div><div><br></div><div>It's just not the same... Just not the same...</div><div><br></div><div><div class="separator" style="clear: both;"><a href="https://lh3.googleusercontent.com/-l8oOtzMhv7k/Uq_lm70YNAI/AAAAAAAABe8/_gGYNfKB34Q/s640/blogger-image-260042771.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://lh3.googleusercontent.com/-l8oOtzMhv7k/Uq_lm70YNAI/AAAAAAAABe8/_gGYNfKB34Q/s640/blogger-image-260042771.jpg"></a></div><br></div><div><br></div><div><div class="separator" style="clear: both;"><a href="https://lh3.googleusercontent.com/-hmVxN6bdlek/Uq_llyr0-oI/AAAAAAAABe0/oITU1GBla_c/s640/blogger-image--381464027.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://lh3.googleusercontent.com/-hmVxN6bdlek/Uq_llyr0-oI/AAAAAAAABe0/oITU1GBla_c/s640/blogger-image--381464027.jpg"></a></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both;">At least I have him by my side.... </div><br></div><div><br></div><div><br></div><div> </div>Anonymoushttp://www.blogger.com/profile/13473654180755733163noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4024473872238519449.post-34239998100610949212013-11-05T07:04:00.001-08:002013-11-05T07:04:24.509-08:00Fired up in sports worldNow I do live and breathe sports. A part of me always has. Maybe not all the stats parts. I can't tell you who has the best yards per carry, nor can I tell you who will win the Super Bowl this year. But, what I can tell you is that, by the numbers, the players themselves are not all that bad. Sure, we have players that make REALLY stupid choices that have you shaking your head asking, "for that kind of money I can play 17 weeks a year, eat right, and not go to jail!"- what the heck! We have run out and bought jerseys of our favorite "tough guy" only to learn that it wasn't an act, he really is an a$$ and maybe we don't want our kids wearing or idolizing someone who regularly smacks around players on the field only to go in the locker room doing it, and we find it doesn't stop there. <br />
Sure living a party life sounds great, but we also know that work does mean responsibility, and "the temple body" thing is something we don't want our children to think means racing 500 laps equals victory with a beer! Yet, sponsors pay large amounts of money to make sure "THEIR" beverage is the first item guzzled as the driver pours out of the car. Nothing says "victory" after driving in the heat, sweating like crazy for hours on end like a nice cold beer. I'd be so happy Gatorade sponsored me. (IV STAT!)<br />
<br />
But really, the numbers please... I came across an article written in September that talked about Dante' Stallworth and his sentence. The writer, felt, more or less, that it was a lack of a sentence, and that pro-athletes need to be held to higher standard when it comes to crimes (like DUI) to set an example. Well, I about blew a gasket! For one, we can't have sentencing guidelines based on "class" rather than crime. Many argue we already do, as in "if you have money- lighter sentence, if you don't- enjoy prison". I read an excellent article by a former chief of police, secret service, etc. You may remember him from 9/11 from New York. He just recently finished his time in federal prison, and screamed the anthem many sing- PRISON IS BROKEN. The sentencing guidelines are flawed, <a href="http://www.today.com/news/not-about-me-being-victim-ex-nypd-chief-kerik-responds-8C11518985" target="_blank">Ex- NYPD Chief Kerik</a> explained it so clearly, yet takes alot of criticism for saying it. People feel he's complaining about his charges... nope just pointing out, spending 10 years for drugs doesn't "teach" anything (life skills, etc). Then when they are released, the cycle continues! For the record, he was in prison for tax charges.<br />
<br />
Back to the numbers... people seem to see the "perp" walk and that's what they remember. That PRO or the headline, and before anything else is said "athletes are just running wild" but seriously... let's breakdown some serious numbers... As we all know, the NFL has 32 teams, with 52 rostered players activated players and various others on injury/or reserved status, plus a practice squad. Counting only the 52 players that gives 1,662 men (hang with me). Moving to the MBA, 30 teams, (you get the rooster idea) total for the league, 450 active players. Now the MLB, We won’t even touch farm league- GOOD LORD! Sticking to just the 15 teams and their average roster- figure 600. Now NHL, Yikes! With 30 teams in the league, they're actually easy- there is 2,121 active players taking the ice (currently). We aren't even counting coaches at this point. I didn't even go into NASCAR, or a variety of other sports- good night!<br />
<br />
So what does this mean? There are 4,833 ACTIVE players (not counting all those “feeder” players in all the various sports that have MANY opportunities to make bad decisions. And yes, the moment they make those mistakes it’s front page news. But let’s dig a tiny bit deeper- remember college football? Who doesn't? WHOA! With 120 colleges playing football in Division I-A every Saturday. We don’t even want to add up the numbers of “kids” there that can “drink it up, but since MOST teams have 125 players on their roster, you can figure adding 15,000 to the mix! So what does that all mean?<br />
<br />
When the National Highway Traffic Safety Administration reported 32,367 people died in traffic crashes in 2011 in the United States (latest figures available), including an estimated 9,878 people who were killed in drunk driving crashes involving a driver with an illegal BAC (.08 or greater), one point blared at me. Among the people killed in these drunk driving crashes, 66% were drivers (6,507), 27% were motor vehicle occupants (2,661), and 7% were non-occupants (710), with an average of one person dying in a drunk driving fatality every 53 minutes. (Century Council, 2012) The numbers are staggering and sobering, yes! BUT compared to the pro and college athletes, we have ALOT of people that are making STUPID choices... <br />
<br />
Throwing it on "super hero's" seems to be just plan dumb! Considering the percentage of our "super hero's involved in these stats is not even a dot. BUT they are the ones on the "perp" walk.<br />
<br />
Create "tougher" guidelines- stupid! Create better programs- smart! There's a reason super man "thinks" he can drive (fly) home... its the same for all the other (stupid) people involved in the stats above. <br />
<br />
Should pro-athletes get a pass- NO WAY! NEVER! But should we look at "all" of them under a dark cloud when once strays... consider the source. Many truly are "Super Heroes!"<br />
<br />
I mean, who wouldn't want to Trick-or-Treat at JJ Watt's house?<br />
<br />
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-jAW6rPaHFf8/UnkIY8l_61I/AAAAAAAABdE/MI8m4-xLXus/s1600/thCAV7A04E.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-jAW6rPaHFf8/UnkIY8l_61I/AAAAAAAABdE/MI8m4-xLXus/s1600/thCAV7A04E.jpg" /></a></div>
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
(Kfan.com)</div>
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
One of the Good Guys!</div>
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
</div>
<br /><br /><br /><br />Anonymoushttp://www.blogger.com/profile/13473654180755733163noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4024473872238519449.post-49400896815582142182013-10-28T07:05:00.000-07:002013-10-28T07:05:32.619-07:00Told it was a bad weekend- last week... and then!Yes, I had HORRIBLE service at a restaurant and by horrible I mean half our party was DONE eating and our server was actually refilling our drinks and hadn't noticed the rest of us never received our food. Seriously, bad! THEN when it was pointed out several times, several ways, we had to fight to reduce our bill for food we never got. Yeah! We actually left with NO food and went to another restaurant just down the boardwalk and I ordered the same meal. Now that's sad!<br />
The night before, my husband and I were all dressed up to go to a Halloween party. Friends of ours throw an awesome party that we look forward to all year. My son was suppose to be home, because my younger daughter had a friend stay the night. After Rich had umpired two games earlier in the day (more on that later) we went home and laid down for a bit. When we woke up we got ready and were headed out the door only to find out that he was gone and out plans were over before they ever started. Rich called our oldest, mean while I contacted my son. Seems my son "forgot" about or plans. Oh, really?<br />
<br />
The topper to the weekend I was "told" was so bad. The mail came and reviewing the cell phone bill showed that the cell phone that we had to suspend because it was stolen, was pretty darn brazen. We called and suspended the account (number) since canceling was not a contract option back on 9/13. Seems the guy thought that was totally unfair and started calling the company 9/15 to see what the deal was. He called 8 times all the way up to 9/30. Some calls were only a minute but two calls were 4 & 2 minutes long. I would love to have heard those "recorded for customer service" calls! "Yes, the phone I stole back in July and have been using because they didn't realize it till this month, yeah, it's not working now." Ah yeah, sorry about that! Part of me wants to text the number on the phone bill and let the person know that by the way, the "guy" you've been talking to is a criminal... talk about upset! But oh well...<br />
<br />
So my weekend... Friday is rather a blur. Lizzy had practice, Rich had a game. Needless to say I was at the field. To put it mildly it was a full fledged fireworks game! Parents, often, during fall ball, especially at the younger ages, "think" they understand the game, and in some cases are smart enough to just admit they are clueless. In Friday nights case it was a combination of both. Which can create a recipe for disaster. On one hand you have parents that think rules are a certain way, and on the other you have parents that are clueless so they think they are learning from "informed, educated" parents. Unfortunately, very often it couldn't be further from the truth. I knew the game was in trouble when I sat down and listened to the official score keeper, the score board operator, and the pitch count recorder, all of which were 3 different people. Which, for the record is fine, if ANY of them understand the game, and their roles. But when the first foul ball was hit and the discussion started as to what that was considered (a ball or strike) I knew we were in trouble. Then as the count continued, ball, strike, foul ball- (at this point based on what I just said- the could would be 2-Strikes, 1-ball)- however the score board had 3-balls, 1-strike- cause as the operator "argued" the umpire only said "strike" once! Oh my! Then another foul ball, and another! Now this kids was battling, impressive to watch... I look over at the score board thinking they would have fixed his count- still (2-strikes, 1- ball), No, the balls have cleared out as have the strikes because they are arguing at this point the kid should have "walked"- ah what? And as for the pitch count- yeah, she isn't sure at this point if she is suppose to count these "pretend" pitches. I get up and walk away- this is the first batter.<br />
<br />
I come back... The coach is asking for pitch count along with some other questions from the other night. They look at him like he has horns- "we don't have that information". It's the second inning, maybe the third- at this point I am leaving so many other details about screaming parents it would make any non-sports parent nuts.<br />
Then my favorite play of the night. Kid hits ball, ball hits fence (dead ball), catcher catches ball (hey, cool heads up! sorry it hit the fence first but way to move). Parents are going wild! It's an OUT!!! Umpire motions dead ball/calls foul ball (we won't even go into what goes on over at the score table)... the kid heads back over to bat. The parents actually get upset because "the kid is out". At which point I can't take it anymore and turn and say, "DEAD BALL, it hit the fence before he caught it". Thinking (silly me) that would be good enough. Till I hear, "but he caught it".... someone shoot me now!<br />
<br />
I truly believe parents should be <b><u>required</u></b> and I mean <b style="font-style: italic; text-decoration: underline;">REQUIRED</b> to sit through a rules and regulations of the sport their kid is playing before their kid takes the field. Maybe not learn all the tiny rules in the 100 page book that even some of the umpire/referees aren't even sure about, but LEARN something before being allowed to sit in the stands and just yell. And for the record YOUR 8 year-old is <b><i><u>NOT</u></i></b> I repeat <b style="font-style: italic; text-decoration: underline;">NOT</b> Derek Jeter! Heck Derek Jeter isn't always Derek Jeter! Stop acting like your kid is the only one on the team that can get things done, or is worth anything. Unless he walks off the field and money falls off him, he's just an 8 year-old out there trying not to embarrass himself as much as he is trying not to embarrass you. Lord knows he doesn't want to hear about how crappy he played the whole way home. This was suppose to be "fun" remember at sign-ups? Yeah! Keep that in mind next time you decide to scream across the field!<br />
<br />
So as I sat at the field watch parents in their various stages of cutting their children down (with a few adding encouraging words). My own daughter pops up from practice, she was at the same complex, just at another field. I was a little surprised to see her because it was pretty early. Oh come to find out, she was catching without her gear on (somehow this part comes as no shock), and took a pitch right to the shin. It actually busted open skin. I look at her and ask (in front of these parents who are screaming at their kids), "do we need to leave or did you just need dirt" (we have a saying "rub some dirt in it"). She said "I need dirt and they told me to come tell you cause I think the coach feels bad for hitting me". I told her she should feel bad for not wearing her gear, and she either needed to head back to practice, or pack it up. Yeah, I know, based on my earlier paragraph that seems a tad harsh. But I know the rules (9th year in) and I also know that my daughter should have NEVER been behind the plate without her gear. So if she got hurt, I kind of really don't have TOO much sympathy for anyone involved, and I'm not really happy with her coach for allowing it!<br />
<br />
She gets up and says, "you know where to find me", gives me a hug and walks away. I hear a Dad behind me snicker and say, "how is it the girls are so much tougher than the boys?" Hmm, are they- or is the parents? If my son had pulled that crap- it would have been the same answer- and if memory serves it may have happened a time or two... "rub some dirt in it!"<br />
<br />
Saturday morning seemed to come pretty early. Rich had a double header. And I almost dreaded the idea that more "smart" parents were going to take aim at him. I headed to the field, not that I can protect him, he doesn't need it, but because I do like being there (not the field but with him). But the nice part came when we got there. See like I said, Rich doesn't need me there, he just seems to like me there. And when I say "need me there" I mean in the sense of to protect him from the mean parent. We arrived and he was once again "rock star" umpire status with parents and kids alike saying hello. See, in all the years he's been umpiring he hasn't thrown anyone out. He hasn't needed to. Not because people haven't acted up, they sure have pushed the limits, and to be honest there have been several games that knowing some of the other umpires the way I do, some would have gotten tossed. But Rich rather people learn. He'd rather that adults and players leave the game the way they came, as a team. And if they can learn something along the way, even better. If he can show them calm, composed, and respective behavior wins, he always gets it in return. So he doesn't have a need to "toss" people. Come the next morning... the very coach (manager) that lost the night before in a MASSIVE game where parents were yelling and hollering, happened to work WITH my husband on the field as his field umpire. RESPECT. For the game, for the person, for the calls. <br />
<br />
So despite my weekend (last weekend) being that of what seemed like a blaze of blunders, I want to look at a few seriously positive notes.<br />
<br />
1) My son went somewhere with his older sister. Now maybe it was just to get out of the house or maybe it was just to avoid being stuck with his younger sister and her friend. But in this day and age, I am glad any time my kids are willing to spend time together and I don't have to "force" them.<br />
<br />
2) I was able to spend some awesome time with my husband. I know this comes as a shock. Rich and I will always find and make time to be together even if we have to steal it. It may be at a ballpark, or just a dinner, but our private time is a great time for us to be together.<br />
<br />
3) I'm a pretty darn good mom! I know my kids mess up royally. Show me anyone's kids that are totally perfect. Even Mary had to double back when she realized that her son Jesus wasn't in toe... talk about fuming! And that was before the price of gas was $3.35 a gallon. So while "rubbing dirt in" it won't solve everything in life, I sure am glad my kids know the difference and aren't afraid to jump back into "the game".<br />
<br />
4) A "bad weekend" can be described by a few events in time that take place that really suck! But its the overall picture and my reaction that really matter. Rising above and "knocking it out of the park" so to speak is what really matters. Being a good example of "taking in on the chin" and "rolling with it", shows that life has all sorts of twists and turns that are just unpredictable, but you just have to keep going and stay the course so that you can continue being awesome.<br />
<br />
So as Monday came last week, alot of people where hoping I had a better week... I laughed. Sure! That sounds like a great idea. I would always want great service at a restaurant, or my kids to remember their commitments, and parents to remember that their kids won't become Derek Jeter for a few more years, and all thieves get what is coming to them in the end, but I am pretty satisfied knowing that this week I am going to witness greatness and be blessed by being apart of it! <br />
<br />
Change your point of view, change your outlook- just powerful!<br />
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-yJcUM4DnWKU/Um5u10GG94I/AAAAAAAABcw/33FdBmZF1os/s1600/liz+softball.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="320" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-yJcUM4DnWKU/Um5u10GG94I/AAAAAAAABcw/33FdBmZF1os/s320/liz+softball.jpg" width="240" /></a></div>
Good luck at your Tournment this week Lizzy! You're awesome! Love, Mom<br />
Anonymoushttp://www.blogger.com/profile/13473654180755733163noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4024473872238519449.post-53310002015389806142013-10-17T05:23:00.002-07:002013-10-17T05:42:30.097-07:00On a positive noteWhen was the last time you wrote your child a LONG positive note? I know I am guilty of thinking I should make sure my kids know my thoughts on how proud I am of them, but don't always put it to pen and paper. But I am quick to grab a pen to let them know what they need to do (little household reminders of things forgotten).<br />
There comes a time, I believe, when all that finger-pointing of mistakes leads to a breakdown of will. I don't know at what age, I'll leave that to the professionals. But I do know, that you get alot farther in life with a positive note. Take for example my youngest. Grant it, she regularly defies logic any chance given. Our "Cinderella in a Tree", with her take no prisoners, rough and tough, down and dirty exterior, is easy met with the cute mis-matched knee-high socks (that's a crazy style she would love to take credit for started over 4 years ago- only because she couldn't find a pair) and nice dress/outfit that most parents would say "NO" to going outside. I've learned since she could walk, she washes, and so do her clothes. Encourage all of her actions, so she can live up to her greatness.<br />
That said... Tuesday night she had yet another softball game. (Big shocker) Upon arriving I noticed a super cool spider web type jungle-gym. While most parents would have looked at it and thought, "oh, great, one more distraction!" I thought- "Awesome, an incentive!" As we passed by the web she got super excited and I could see her insides meet her outside as her hands started to tell me about the one just like it at another park. I calmly told her she could play on it after her game IF and only IF she hit the ball to the grass. (To date, since moving up to the higher division she hadn't done so, but has been playing really good ball none-the-less). At first, she looked at the grass field as though that was impossible, but then looking at the spider web, it became a mission. Her first at bat, BAM! Hit (grant it the hit was a tad late and she swung late) between 1st and 2nd landing where... the grass! As she rounded 1st (safe) she said to her coach, "did that hit the grass?" When her coach said, "That was an AWESOME hit, YES!" giving her a High-Five. All the sudden you see a player jump up and yell, "I'm playing on the spider web!" Now, I could have said before the game, "you've been hitting like crap this season, nothing has gone to the grass like before, what makes you think you have <u style="font-weight: bold;">earned</u> the right to play on the spider web?" BUT what exactly would that have done? Yet time and time again I hear that sort of thing played out. So sad! Instead, I turned it around, I reeled in her energy and gave her a goal. She met it with total force, and beamed the whole game. Her coaches said afterwards what a great game she played.<br />
<br />
This morning, I started to write her a note to make sure she didn't forget her homework I had found on the table. As I wrote the note I realized, I needed to remind her of how proud I am that she is even in that class. This year as a 6th grader she is taking many 7th grade classes. In 8th grade (upon completion) she will earn as many as 6 high school credits, which will allow her to continue to work towards completing high school early and then working on college credits starting her Junior year (she can take an AP class her Freshman year for at least one credit). All that said, last year her class was inundated with information about what they attributed to the "freshman/middle school" failure. Kids entering middle school who enter a whole new world of friends, fun, and failure. Getting in with the wrong crowd, trying to fit in, and taking classes over their heads, creates the perfect storm for disaster. Add to it social media and the constant change of friends and relationships- the storm intensifies to an all out hurricane.<br />
<br />
Being the youngest, she does have several advantages. We have learned from many mistakes with our other two, and in doing so, learned that the SCHOOL really does matter. Sad but true. Often society is so quick to point to parents as not being involved as the quick escape goat. But having three kids in the "system", I can attest, I have three very different outcomes. And "involved" takes on a truly different meaning, when it comes to the schools, I am very sad to say.<br />
<br />
So as her grades came out for the first grading period, being a daily watcher of the grades, thanks to an online service I like to call "parent-bust-a-kid-connect", they call it "Portal"- yeah whatever, I was able to see that when there was an assignment and it wasn't "turned-in" what was really going on. Problem- 1)teachers don't always keep their gradebook up-to-date (and they admit it at least) 2) some teachers wait till the last minute to enter grades. So your child has an A for most of the grading period then the last week of the grading period a million grades get entered and BOOM- A -> D ah WHAT happened? And of course there is NO time to do anything! Luckily in my daughters case THIS did not occur. (as far as the grade dropping). Nope, her first report card out of the "gun" she got all A's and one B (which she was crushed). In high school she would have a crazy GPA since all the classes but 1 are honors classes, so even the "B" would have been worth 4 points... (weighted).<br />
<br />
My letter to her.... I reminded her not to forget her homework, BUT I took more time to remind her how proud I was that she was doing so well in all her classes. That despite all the pressures of middle school life, she hasn't backed away from being "Elizabeth". She continues to make us very proud.<br />
<br />
Taking a moment to provide a positive note, might not seem like much, but I'm sure, that in the end (I mean years down the road), it will make a lifetime of a difference!<br />
<br />
End on a positive note, I try in my Life in Blogging.<br />
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-08RBsSo6Qes/Ul_WreD8wSI/AAAAAAAAA1I/Xgyi1Kp7SvY/s1600/liz+softball.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="320" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-08RBsSo6Qes/Ul_WreD8wSI/AAAAAAAAA1I/Xgyi1Kp7SvY/s320/liz+softball.jpg" width="240" /></a></div>
<br />
Please support other Bloggers! I have a list below and am always adding to it, check them out and support them too! Also, add a comment or two, let me know your thoughts, and as always- feel free to share with your friends, family, and strangers (although some would argue that some family are strangers- either way- share away!).<br />
<br />Anonymoushttp://www.blogger.com/profile/13473654180755733163noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4024473872238519449.post-67706579827263816562013-10-15T07:42:00.000-07:002013-10-15T07:42:08.240-07:00Blogging and sticking around for the joyWhen I first started to blog I truly believe part of it was a pressure pot in my brain saying "write your emotions, rather than blow something (or someone) up". I like to look back at the highs and lows of my life through my blogs and reflect at some of my greatest accomplishments. Some of my really good hair choices, along with shoes and hair designs... I mean after all, going back to school and getting two degrees is rather small compared to a really awesome pair of shoes!<br />
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-PGh4U68D-tk/Ul1OymK0MRI/AAAAAAAAA0s/lV0HsAr74i4/s1600/IMG_1140.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-PGh4U68D-tk/Ul1OymK0MRI/AAAAAAAAA0s/lV0HsAr74i4/s1600/IMG_1140.JPG" height="320" width="240" /></a></div>
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
A few years apart... just amazing!</div>
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-nl5UjxZOlAg/Ul1TlLJp_EI/AAAAAAAAA04/wONg9d7rAu0/s1600/kids.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-nl5UjxZOlAg/Ul1TlLJp_EI/AAAAAAAAA04/wONg9d7rAu0/s1600/kids.jpg" height="238" width="320" /></a></div>
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<br /></div>
I look back at some pictures of my kids. Holy moly, they are still alive! I completely have succeeded at not snapping! That alone should win me some year long Starbucks prize or a weekend trip to a spa. I always have pictures of them when they are angels, I really should take pictures when they are monsters, since blogging about them is easy enough. Oh, but then I wouldn't be able to maintain that image of whatever I am suppose to maintain. You know, that "mother-of-the-year" crap we all strive for and normally fall short on around oh, for me... January 15th- 16th... maybe sooner if it requires dishes too many times. The words "not fair, and why me" quickly get heard and I see my chances sliding before February makes its way. Oh, but then some event happens and I become "the best mom ever! Only to quickly fall from grace again when I dare to utter the word "no" or dare to suggest a room should resemble clean rather than a bombed out cavern.<br />
<br />
At some point, maybe when they are, who knows my age, they will look back and think about all the "stuff" they were "forced" to do as they ask their maid to bring in the paper and be grateful I prepared them for a life that would require greatness and wealth, so the wouldn't have to lift a finger. Lord knows anything less, and a hazmat team will be making frequent trips to their homes.<br />
<br />
Yes, I enjoy my blogging do the simply fact that while yelling at home only raises blood pressure not the dust off of shelves, it has give me joy to look back over the years and see how my kids have aged. It also lets me know just were I went wrong all these years...<br />
<br />
Yep, I'll be sticking around. I hope you do too! Please share your comments below good, bad, indifferent on how your "child raising" has progressed... or not... I'd love to hear from you!<br />
<br />
Also :) I follow several other wonderful bloggers- support them too! Grab a cup of coffee or tea and see below for the list- have a great laugh and enjoy!<br />
<br />
Thank you for all your support! I mean really, you could have stopped reading along time ago, but you continue to hang in there with me. You really do think I'll snap don't you? That's okay the odds makers in Vegas are leaning that way too... something about my brain and all... I forget... MS! ;)<br />
<br />
Don't forget to "follow me" for updates!<br />
<br />
<br />Anonymoushttp://www.blogger.com/profile/13473654180755733163noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4024473872238519449.post-58410549337885204522013-10-14T11:25:00.000-07:002013-10-14T11:25:01.862-07:00A Deeper ScarThis morning I was fixated by a woman behind the counter at our local Dunkin Donuts. I've seen her several times, and she is the sweetest thing. But today something or I should say somethings caught me by surprise and rather off guard. <br />
While it's never polite to stare I found myself lost, fixated almost at trying to figure out the root cause. Did it matter? Is my life really affect? Or should it be? Maybe that is the true question! <br />
<br />
She didn't have one or two, but rather the whole top of her left arm and the left side of her chest was badly scared in what appeared to be one of two options.- a brutal horrific experience, or an ongoing personal long-term series of self-inflected pain (DEEP cutting). To be honest, as I climbed into my car thinking of the depth of the scars, I couldn't grasp which would be worse. I really wanted to go hug her and tell her she was loved. Maybe that's what she needs regardless of what the root of the cause, I don't know. But it made me think of the deeper scars that many carry, that go unseen, unnoticed, unexplained.<br />
<br />
This month, October, a call for Domestic Violence Awareness is being promoted by wearing purple. When I received my tee-shirt, I put it on proudly, and asked others to join me and help bring awareness to a "silent scar". Little did I know at the time that all too quickly a little 2 year old would be front and center in the news as a horrible domestic crime putting a boyfriend in jail for murder, and bringing a pro-football player to his knees asking- Why? How odd- his team colors- Purple.<br />
<br />
Time and time again we hear stories of little children, babies, too little to defend themselves, killed or seriously injured by tempers. Women beaten for saying and doing the wrong things? <br />
<br />
While some scars are visible for the world to see, other scars are deeper in the heart, the mind, and in the soul. <br />
<br />
Too often people shake their heads, "why don't they just leave, walk away from someone like that?" Just image being a prisoner in your mind, believing you have no hope, no where to go, no one else, this is what you deserve, and if you do leave they'll find you and make it worse for you in the long run. Trapped. You play "nice" and hope your survival kicks in until you finally have a way to truly, safely, break free. <br />
<br />
But the scars, they run deep. They haunt you in the night. They make you look behind your back and double-lock everything, until you are truly able to take a stand and fight back and say enough is enough.<br />
<br />
Will I hug her the next chance I get? You know, I just might! We all need a little more love and security in our lives ... and who knows, it might be the difference in her life!<br />
<br />
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-UbHFbc4mg7o/Ulw2ObAYqUI/AAAAAAAAA0c/J6jyyjODxb4/s1600/Domestic+violence.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="320" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-UbHFbc4mg7o/Ulw2ObAYqUI/AAAAAAAAA0c/J6jyyjODxb4/s320/Domestic+violence.jpg" width="240" /></a></div>
<br />
Anonymoushttp://www.blogger.com/profile/13473654180755733163noreply@blogger.com0