Gone Too Soon

Unless you live under a rock, by now you know that Michael Jackson died yesterday. I was utterly stunned by this news, and quite honestly, a bit heartbroken. As I've written before, I have always found him fascinating. I don't know how you sum up the life of someone so complicated, so talented and yet somehow so broken. I know that he will certainly be remembered for his incredible musical accomplishments, as much as he will be remembered for his strange behavior and white children. Many will only remember the accusations against him. I'm glad that I didn't have to sit on his jury, because I could never say for sure if I could believe that this oddly pale man-child could ever do such terrible things.

Andrew Sullivan had some things to say about Michael Jackson's death that I found touching. I pray that his kids are well taken care of, and that they are able to find peace in their lives that their daddy clearly never could.

Gone Too Soon

Cyanoacrylates are our friends

We had a particularly exciting time at the campground this past weekend. The Tyrant took a header into a stone step and split his chin open. The poor little guy screamed and gushed blood all over. The volume of blood told us he would need stitches, even before we could see the gash clearly. We left the big kids with friends and headed up to the closest emergency room. I was dreading spending several hours in a waiting room, but to our amazement, we were in and out in an hour. The doctor was able to use glue and steri strips to close his chin, and we were very thankful to avoid the trauma of stitches. The Princess had to get stitches above her eye as a toddler, and I never wanted to repeat that hysteria.

We stopped at a store to get children's ibuprofen, thinking that he might have a hard time sleeping with the pain. He whimpered a bit but seemed ok when he went to sleep.

Apparently he had a great night's sleep, and got up with the birds. I'm not sure exactly how early he was awake, but campground security knocked on our door & returned him to us at 7:30am. It was a proud moment for sure, when I admitted that we hadn't even known that he was gone, since we had all still been asleep. We have no clue how he got out of the camper without us hearing him, since the door is right near our bed. He was found near the camp store, which is ironically where he had fallen the night before. (Maybe he was looking for the ice cream he missed out on??) The dog was also loose, no idea where she may have been during this, but thankfully she was running circles around the security man when I opened the door.

The main thing I learned from this weekend, outside of the need to tie bells to my child and explain to him the reasons why he must wear a helmet 24 hours a day, is this: when your child splits his chin open, and the doctor clears the blood away so she can close the gash, do not, under any circumstances, look closely to see the damage, because it will look like ground beef and you will want to chuck, which you cannot do because said child is on your lap having his face super glued back together. Here endeth the lesson.

Ignorance

I had a conversation yesterday that I'm still festering about, so maybe blogging will clear my head of it. You know how afterwards, where you kick yourself for what you said or didn't say, and how you should have said this or that, and you just continue to have the back & forth in your head. Of course I always come out looking good and triumphant at the end of these.

I was at the school, waiting for the kids to come out. I was standing with a group of other moms doing likewise, and one of them, whom I have seen before but don't know at all, was complaining about the stupidity of her neighbors. She then went on to talk about the residents of the recovery house near her. I won't recount the whole thing, but she had some pretty derogatory things to say. Now granted, I know that those who are fresh out of rehab are not always the most agreeable sort, nor are they schooled in the finer rules of etiquette and manners. I could understand her being upset about some of their inappropriate behavior. That said, I have a tendancy to get my back up when people make stereotypical statements about people in recovery, which she made plenty of. She then went on to say that she couldn't understand why these people were allowed to live in a neighborhood around children. I raised an eyebrow and asked where they should live then, and told her that there were recovery houses in pretty much every one of our local neighborhoods. She said she didn't know, but that the Don Pablos was empty, and they should just ship them there. (a local restaurant that went out of business & is sitting empty)

I think I nearly bit through my tongue at this point, as I considered my options. I considered informing her that not all of us in recovery appreciate being ranked with pedofiles when it comes to undesireable neighbors. I thought about letting her know that those in early recovery need a lot of patience and compassion. I thought about calling her an ignorant bizzo. I instead said nothing, because I knew I was not capable of being diplomatic at that point, and it would accomplish nothing to tell her off.

After the kids were dismissed and we were walking home, I told myself to let it go and not let it bother me. Had she known that I am in recovery, she would surely not have said those things, or at least I'd like to think that. I know it's idealistic, but I'd love the chance to talk to her again and set her straight. But with only a few days left in the school year, it's unlikely that I'll have the chance.

I carry the green card with me in my purse and I thought of it as I stood there facing that woman. I thought of the one line, "I will not show anyone that my feelings are hurt; they may be hurt, but today I will not show it." I wasn't hurt, just ticked, but I knew it was better to hold my tongue. One of the gifts of my recovery has been the realization that I do not always have to have my say, and I do not always have to be right. The satisfaction of knowing I didn't lose my temper tastes much better than telling her off would have.

My Anniversary Present

Looky what I got!  I've been wanting the industrial piercing for about a year, and I finally went and did it.  It's my wedding anniversary present from the Man.  12 years went by fast!

Anniversary

I celebrated 8 years of recovery from alcoholism on the 28th of May, hallelujah!  I wish you could have seen the smile on my face when I went to my home group the night before & received my coin.  There is just no other feeling like it; to know that you have succeeded at changing your life, one day at a time, through the grace of God and AA - it is simply amazing, in every sense of the word.

When it was my turn to share I talked about where I had been and where I am now.  How I'm incredibly blessed to have a husband and children and the life that I enjoy.  I shared that I am a first timer, and that I have stayed sober for this many years because, quite simply, I do what I'm told.  I listen to the suggestions and advice of my sponsor and fellow alcoholics.  I take my life one day at a time, I try my best to be humble, I am honest, I admit when I am wrong.... not because I am so awesome, but because I know what happens when I don't live this life the way I'm supposed to.  I did things my way for a long time, and it got me in a lot of trouble.  I don't need to have my way anymore.  Giving up my own will, and submitting to God is what keeps me sober.  I make amends where necessary, pray for those who cause me pain, and keep my mouth shut, which is hard, for anyone who knows me.  I don't always need to be 'right' anymore.

I carry my coin in my pocket every day, as a reminder to me of needing to 'practice these principles in all my affairs'.  I love the coins that my meeting uses. They look like these:

The history of the coins, if you're nerdy like me and need to know these things, can be found here.

How to Ensure that Parents of Your Fans Will Hate You

I read recently that Kanye West is anti-reading.  I thought at first that this had to be a joke, because who would be against reading?  But sadly, it's true.  As disturbing as this is, what's even more disturbing is that this genius has now written a book.  Umm... what?  Yes, the anti-book rapper has 'written' a book.  And 'written' gets air-quotes because 1) he doesn't believe in books and 2) he had to have someone co-author a book that consists of random quotes, 'Kanye-isms' and blank pages.

As Jen over at Cake Wrecks said, "After banging my head against the desk and weeping for future generations," I thanked God that my parents did not feel this way.  We were always encouraged to read and to write, and had our own library cards from a young age.  We read mysteries, autobiographies, and poetry, along with the Bible.  Some of my earliest memories are of my mom reading books to us on long car trips, and of my father making up stories to tell us at bedtime.  I am incredibly thrilled and proud that I have passed the reading bug on to the Princess, who plows through books at an amazing rate.  She read the entire Left Behind Kids series in about two weeks.

As Thomas Jefferson said, "I cannot live without books."  As a lifelong reader and an aspiring author, I have the urge to tack Kanye's picture on my dartboard.  The celebrity platform is a gift Mr. West, and you have clearly squandered yours.  Young people looking for good writing by a black author, skip Kanye's 'book' and instead check out someone worth reading, like Howard Thurman or Rosa Parks.

Memorial Day

This weekend as we gather at the campground to stuff ourselves with goodies in celebration of the long weekend, I'd like to take a moment to thank all of our armed forces, both active & retired.  I'm collecting some more pictures from my Dad's side of the family, and wanted to share this one of my great-uncle.  His name is Michael, though we have always called him Uncle Mickey.

Mickey landed in Europe eleven days after the invasion of France, while there were still bodies floating in the water.  He was part of a machine gun squad.  He was wounded by artillary fire from an 88, which tossed him in the air ten feet or so.  He feels that his life was saved because he had so many clothes on because of the winter weather.  He lost part of a lung as a result.  After being wounded, he was left in a farmhouse with a German prisoner, which he thought was interesting.

Uncle Mickey is still alive & doing well, and he has our thanks for his brave service.  May God bless & protect all of our troops, and may God bless America.

Facebook Ads

Some of my favorite Facebook ads....

for when squeezing the air out of a ziploc bag is just too challenging for you

I'm a nerd, but this cracked me up and I love that movie.

wow, that's some targeted advertising.... now I feel almost stalked.....hm

I think I've seen this guy near the bus station preaching about the end times

because when you're searching for a complete stranger to watch your children for several hours, 'fast & easy' is what you want

naaaahahaha, how awesome is that?!

Internet Friends

When the MySpace rage first began, I was resistant at first.  I joined, but really couldn't get into it.  It just seemed a breeding ground for teenage angst and sparkly pink graphics.  But after a while, it began to grow on me, and I was pleasantly surprised when I found some old friends from college there.  Having gone to college 400 miles from home, it had previously seemed unlikely that I'd be able to make very many amends to my college peers.  It felt great to start making those amends with people I hadn't seen in so many years.

Then the Facebook rage began, and I joined that as well.  And slowly but surely, as word got around and it became more popular, I ran into friend after friend, from college, from high school, elementary school and the list goes on.  I was able to find friends I had been  looking for and hoping to reconnect with for years.  Every one that I made amends to was gracious, forgiving, and I could feel a lot of my hurt from those years melting away.  Reunions are being planned and I've seen pictures of what everyone looks like now, what their kids look like. It's funny to see us all as 'grown ups' now.  

As I was pondering this this morning, I thought about all of my internet friends that I have made over the years on various sites.  I have my moms group that I joined when I was expecting the Boy, my recovery friends on different AA sites, and my fellow stay at home moms from a message group that I co-managed for several years.  I have several girlfriends from that last one that I am incredibly close with.  We went through many heartbreaks & triumphs together, and formed bonds that are hard to explain to outsiders.  If you haven't made online friends, it may seem strange to you.  But these women have been a lifeline for me, as I spend a lot of my days with no adult contact.  I've been a stay at home mom for nearly eight years, which is a long time to be 'alone'.  With the hours and schedule that the Man works, I'd have lost my marbles long ago if not for the internet.

My nonbloggingfriend is one of these women.  We have never met in person, but have been close friends for several years.  We joke about getting in our cars and driving to meet each other somewhere in the middle of the 12 hour distance between us, just to finally meet.  When her home was flooded with sewage from a poor drainage system in her town, I wanted to get on a plane immediately.  I hated that I couldn't be there in person to hold her as she dealt with the mess, the sickness from eColi and a township that refused to take any responsibility.

When a former member of our moms group began harrassing me, and sent a letter to my husband with pictures of our children to 'prove' to him that I was a bad mother, my friend wanted to get on a plane as well.  In the darkest days, we have lamented the miles between us, and I have asked God why He gave me a friend that I cannot touch.

But I wonder now at His plan, for He of course knew that she and I would feel this way.  We share a different kind of bond for having never met face to face.  I can only be thankful that I have her in my life, and be satisfied in knowing that if not in this life, then surely in the next, she and I will finally be able to be neighbors.

Test Post

Just a test post to see how the new format looks.