I Look Good?

“Mommah! Mommah!” I heard his little voice coming up the stairs. As he turned the corner, “there you are.” He came up the last step as he saw me gathering the laundry. He wobbled to a stand and with a big goofy grin asked me, “I look good?” I couldn’t help but beam at my youngest wonderful sense of humor. This is what I saw:

One Moms Take on Health Care Reform...Where Did the Term 'Socialized Medicine' Come From Anyway?

1 in 2 men will battle some form of cancer in their lifetime, 1 in 3 women will face cancer in their lifetime(1).   In other words, if you’re a man you have a 50/50 chance of facing the cancer demon. Woman slightly less.  Having lived among children battling cancer, having seen cancer steal youth and life from our young has caused me to think about this ‘health care reform’ our nation is battling over. Maybe ‘think’ is too nonchalant; I’m practically obsessed and very worried. I am Christian. Most of my family and close friends tend to be republican. Most are against ‘socialized medicine’. Few may realize that Kevin’s treatment was originally denied by our insurance company until I signed a waiver allowing the St. Jude administrative staff and attorneys handle the denial. Even with them on my side our insurance company still denies some of services Kevin requires. Kevin was blessed to be at the best place for his type of cancer. I was blessed because Danny Thomas and his friends believed that I and every other parent who is lucky to get their kid into St. Jude if the word cancer is apart of a doctor’s diagnosis not worry about the bills but worry about getting through the intense treatment. They believed they could make a difference in other less fortunate lives and did so successfully.

I never fully understood the cost of cancer until last year. Emotionally, financially, career, education, family, everything can be compromised with a cancer diagnosis. Cancer doesn’t run in my family. The only person I had watched battle cancer was my friend’s husband just a few years before we learned of Kevin’s brain tumor and they had chosen an alternative route for treatment. There is no child there who smoked, drank too much and lived a bad lifestyle to have asked for this illness. They haven’t been on the planet long enough. I think most educated people understand that.

In the effort to understand I have been doing a little history digging and was surprised to learn that ‘health care as a fundamental right and not a privilege’(2) is not as new of an idea as I had thought. The history of health care for all began with Teddy Roosevelt in 1912(3) with his campaign promises of national health care insurance, woman’s suffrage, and safe working conditions for factory workers. The need for health care insurance had risen from the dawn of modern medicine as we know it which began in the 1920’s. That's when doctors and hospitals began charging more than most individuals could easily pay. ‘To close this gap, which worsened with the advent of the Great Depression, the administrator of Baylor Hospital in Dallas created a system that caught on elsewhere and eventually evolved into Blue Cross. The Blues were essentially nonprofit health insurers who served local community organizations like the Elks. In exchange for a tax break, Blue Cross organizations kept premiums reasonably low.’(4)

In the 1940’s President Roosevelt asks Congress for "economic bill of rights," including right to adequate medical care for all U.S. citizens. The medical care for all failed. Shortly after his election, President Truman offered a national health program plan, proposing a single system that would include all of American society. The plan was denounced by the American Medical Association (AMA), and called a Communist plot by a House subcommittee.

We all know that premiums are no longer reasonably low and that corporations are scaling back their health care. In short we are getting less coverage for more costs. For the small 6 person company I work for health care insurance costs went up 11% last year and 14% this year. Our sales are down at least 50% this year, it is almost impossible not to pass the increase onto our employees who are not getting any raises and in some cases have taken pay cuts. This story is being repeated over and over again and I know the small company I work for is not alone in this. Employer based health care began in the 1940’s just as penicillin came into use and wage controls were implemented on American companies. Employers began to offer health care insurance as an employment benefit to attract employees.(5)

This leads into one of the many issues with our current health care insurance system that is mostly dependent upon employment when you couple that with the stats that 1 in 2 men will battle cancer at some point in their lives and 1 in 3 women. As of right now the Family Medical Leave Act only allows for 3 months off without pay. Some corporations have nice leave policies and there is hope of keeping your medical insurance (because of the riders the company has with the insurance company) and possibly your job through a health care crisis. You may or may not have an income during this time; that is mostly depending on your disability insurance. But the number of people of who actually keeps their jobs through a major medical crisis is getting less and less. Medical bills are the biggest contributor to bankruptcy. It destroys futures of children, hopes of retirement. Even with St. Jude making sure our medical insurance understood that the treatment in Memphis cost considerable less that the treatment offered at our home hospital along with a better success rate. Our insurance still did not reimburse St. Jude for some of Kevin’s preventive care screening such as hearing tests to see if one of the chemo drugs was affecting his hearing, as it does cause hearing loss in some patients. Kevin’s left foot drags similar to a stroke victim, a year out of treatment. We are so happy to have Kevin alive and forever grateful for the extra time we have with him, but he still has hurdles that St. Jude does not cover and it is questionable if our medical insurance will cover it. As it is Kevin is a liability to the insurance company, dragging down shareholder value. Herein lies my other problem with our current system.

I don’t believe in quick fixes and the current proposal isn’t foul proof, it will need tweaking as we move through it…… if we can ever get past the first step at least we are heading toward something better. I do recognize that this current system only takes care of an increasingly elite group. I believe strongly in the good in majority of people. I experienced it first hand last year. So I am baffled as to why it is some believe that health care is a privileged mostly only for the educated and at least the low end of middle class? Health care even for the lower middle class is disappearing as I type this.

Kevin and other kids who have survived cancer aren’t considered easily insurable after their 25th birthday and can no longer be on their parent’s insurance. And they have done nothing wrong, they have overcome something incredible difficult and yet are punished in the current health care insurance system we have. I have remained relatively healthy for three decades, paying into a system I have barely used except for 3 pregnancies which produced children that Mike’s company now pays into the system for. 2 of them are considered healthy and require very little medical care as of yet.

In short, I would take something as opposed to nothing; some guarantee that Kevin and kids like Kevin won’t lose the insurance that is really important to their livelihood especially as they grow older and face the repercussions of what we did to their bodies to extend their lives. I have trouble seeing the difference between a governments empowered body helping determine my son’s care verses an insurance company that is worried about the bottom line. Our American insurance companies have moved from shared risk to making profits for shareholders. Choosing money over life, which seems fine to some because everyone is entitled to make money…. as long as it’s not your child’s life on the line.

A few last thoughts. Poverty breeds crime, if a family is placed into poverty because of a health care crisis, where does it leave the children? I believe in building strong communities to build a strong society. We are all in this together and what happens to one effects us all eventually unless you live on an island with no other humans.

Earlier this week as I was listening to the news about the Middle East it occurred to me what prevents American Christians from being brain washed too? I mean like Germans before World War II? Propaganda that plays on fear need to be watched carefully, fear is such a strong emotion. I think politicians and religious leaders need to be put on notice for their fear tactics. The question here is so basic and simple. Should everyone have access to adequate health care without having to mortgage the house and the kid’s futures?

For those worried about the increase in taxes that this proposed insurance for all will place on them I ask a few questions, are you afraid that these taxes will not allow you to make the mortgage, be able to clothe and feed your children because of the tax burden? For those families facing a health crisis those are legitimate concerns. Too many of our senators are in the same upper tax bracket as those who are so concerned about the increase tax burden. I am confident they aren’t going to undermine upper incomes too much.

It seems apparent there are not enough volunteers at our city children’s hospitals to be with the children who are in the hospital there alone most of the day with no parent because the parent(s) have to work to keep their health care and pay the bills. Kevin has spent enough time at our city children’s hospital for me to see there is so much need and I wish everyone was as lucky as we are, because our friends and friends of friends cared enough to make sure we didn’t lose our house last year, that I wasn’t alone with an infant, nor wasn't able to take leave from my job while trying to get Kevin through treatment.

(1)American Cancer Society 2009 Cancer Statistics Presentation

(2) Ted Kennedy Dec 9, 1978 Memphis Tenn. http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=LhYtMm

(3) NY Times Roosevelt’s Own Creed Set Forth, http://www.nytimes.com/packages/flash/health/HEALTHCARE_TIMELINE/1912_roosevelt.pdf

(4)A Short History of Health Care by Timothy Noah, Slate Magazine March 13,2007

(5) PBS Health Care Crisis Timeline http://www.pbs.org/healthcarecrisis/history.htm

Quality

Note: This is a repost of something I wrote back in 2005.

From late childhood through adolescents I was told over and over again by teachers, parents, even my grandparent how important it is to have an understanding of history. “History has a way of repeating itself if we don’t learn the lessons from the previous generations.” My grandfather told me when I was about 8, that thought has stuck with me. As I have been researching the history of quality I came across a website that was in memory of Homer Sarasohn. You are probably wondering who is Homer Sarasohn? (As I was when I first came across it.) So I give to you a brief history lesson in American and Japanese quality taken from A Lesson Learned and a Lesson Forgotten by Robert Chapman Wood.

In 1946, shortly after American occupation of Japan began, General Douglas MacArthur urgently wanted Japan to mass-produce radios so that U.S. Occupation authorities could reach every Japanese village quickly with its messages. A young radio product engineer during World War II who had become radar engineer at MIT and Raytheon shortly after the war, received a telegram from General MacArthur requesting he report to headquarters at the earliest possible date. At 29 years of age, Homer Sarasohn was instructed to help the Japanese produce radios and communications equipment.

When arriving in Japan, Sarasohn found that the Japanese knew about electronics, yet the philosophy on production was making half of your products okay and throwing the other half out.

A couple of years of unreliable radios Sarasohn along with Charles Protzman a Western Electric engineer concluded quality products would never be produced in Japan without basic modern management training. Sarasohn and Protzman developed a training course that would teach the Japanese the basics that they needed to know.

‘The Occupation's Economics and Social Section objected to the seminar."They said we might be too successful," recalls Sarasohn. It was perhaps the understatement of the century. But both the ESS people and the CCS engineers made 20-minute presentations before MacArthur. The ESS warned of the perils of Japanese competition. Sarasohn insisted that it would ultimately be more practical to teach the defeated and starving nation to be self-sufficient. After both sides had finished, says Sarasohn, MacArthur turned to him, snapped, "Go do it," and walked out of the room.’

On the first page of the courses text, a motto used at Newport News Shipbuilding was cited: "We shall build good ships here; at a profit if we can, at a loss if we must, but always good ships."

The gist of the message that was imparted to his Japanese pupils:

Every company needs a concise, complete statement of the purpose of the company's existence, one that provides a well-defined target for the idealistic efforts of the employees.

Companies must put quality ahead of profit, pursuing it rigorously with techniques such as statistical quality control.

Every employee deserves the same kind of respect follow managers receive, and good management is "democratic management." Lower-level employees need to be listened to by their bosses.


Sarasohn and Protzman's pupils went on to become a Who's Who of Japan's electronics industry. They included Matsushita Electric's Masaharu Matsushita; Mitsubishi Electric's Takeo Kato; Fujitsu's Hanzou Omi; Sumitomo Electric's Bunzaemon Inoue; Akio Morita and Masaru Ibuka, the founders of what is now Sony Corp. This cadre of leaders spread the principles throughout Japanese industry.

I wonder if much of this is lost here in the U.S. now. The evening news tells of CEO’s milking U.S. companies in the name of money and greed. It seems to be all about profitability and “shareholder value”. I understand a company can not survive without being profitable but at what expense?

So this is my brief history lesson for what it is worth. If you are interested in more information I recommend:

A Lesson Learned and a Lesson Lost: http://deming.eng.clemson.edu/pub/den/files/lesson.txt

And Honoring Homer http://honoringhomer.net/

My Child's Cancer Has Started to Changed Me for the Better

My oldest son was diagnosed with a cancerous brain tumor  just shortly after New Years in 2008.  Once we made it over the hurdle of diagnosis and I got through the initial shock, fear and heartbreak, something slowly and amazingly happened to me.  I was able to smile the way I never was able to smile before.

I suppose I should back up and explain a little.  Before Kev was diagnosed I had been trying to find my voice as his advocate. I was having a tough time getting a few key people in our lives to appreciate my view  and that was very true when I started to notice something going wrong with Kev. There was a point I seriously considered going on meds because almost no one saw what I saw. Luckily a friend came over and experienced one of Kev's 'episodes' and agreed with me something was wrong. I needed to push harder to figure it out. I think it was within a week of Kev's surgery to remove the tumor in his cerebellum something deep inside of me became free. I took control of Kev's treatment and finding care. I found I was smart enough to learn quickly what I needed to know to talk the medical jargon needed to discuss options with the doctors (with help of some parents who had already walked down this road before me and my obsessive need to read).

When the opportunity for a more successful treatment 500 miles away from our home came, I took it.  When everyone left after the first couple of days of Kevin being admitted to St. Jude I  felt so alone and scared as I tried to care of a newborn and a child with cancer.  Kevin had to have his brain radiated each day at the hospital then face the riggers of just daily medical appointments to track his health.  There were moments when 4 month old Jake would be screaming and Kevin didn't have the energy to walk or would be getting sick. I would just want to cry because I had to choose which childs needs got addressed first  while trying to make it from one appointment to another on either end of the hospital. But I didn't cry in front of them, I figured out how to solve the problems and sometimes prevent them.


I found that some of the preparations for crisis I had made helped my family make it through. I found my experience watching other families deal with cancer helped me to make the very tough decisions we need to make to try to save our home with the onslaught of unexpected expenses. We were all so lucky that  there are some really amazing people in this world who sent cards, prayers and put together and attended fundraisers. Some of them I am so blessed to call good friends.

As I packed my car  to head home for a short break between radiation and chemo Kevin was given, that alone feeling hit hard and I so missed my mom. I noticed, with envy, the moms who surrounded me who had their moms by their side as they faced the uncertain world of having a child with cancer.  I didn't miss  my mom that exists now, but the mom she was when I was 7 before her illness kicked in. There in the warm Memphis spring, as I tried to efficiently pack my Taurus X trying not to leave Kevin and Jake alone in our Ronald McDonald House room for more than 5 minutes,  I found my way to accept it and the inner strength in knowledge my kids have a mom who won't break. 

I made the drive from Tennessee to Michigan with my sick nauseated, dry heaving oldest and his infant brother without  fear; riding on the knowledge I could really do much more than I realized on my own.

I got home for that short break to be surround by friends offering what they could in support and help. It was exactly what my soul needed as I prepared to help Kevin face the next challenge of chemo.


My extended family is not incredibly close but my step-mom took a couple of weeks off without pay.  She is the one who insisted her and my dad make that initial February drive to Memphis when I was given 72 hours to pack up and get to the hospital so Kevin would qualify for the protocol.  Lucky for me my step mom came through because we hit an ice storm on the way, I got lost when we got to Memphis and was beyond exhausted once we got checked in to the Grizzly House. The lack of sleep had finally caught up and adrenaline had run out.  Later during chemo, my sisters both came to help for a couple of days and my Aunt, who I hadn't seen in years, came out for a week to help during those terrible months of chemo.  I felt so lucky to have friends who took time off from work during their summer and broke from their obligations to come on their own expense to help. I found that there is more good in the world than bad. That the human spirit is mostly good.


Mike came once a month to help for a week and almost every weekend during chemo. He would spend hours reading to Kevin has he laid in the hospital bed or playing their DS's together. Kev's dad, Eric, stayed the whole time whenever Kev was admitted inpatient.  I got to see how amazingly lucky my kids are to have the dads that they have, to have dads who are there when times are really tough. I sometimes wish they both understood me little more than they do but overall in the grand picture they are good dads. They show up for their kids. I might not have picked men that are the best husband for me, but they both are good dads. Maybe that is just how God planned it and I needed to be okay with it. Now I feel more free to be who I am as a mom, as a woman, and not let either man's views hold me back like I used to.

During our time at St. Jude I saw some really sick kids and have experience horrible deaths that these children go through when they don't win there battle with cancer. I have experience kids overcoming the terrible 'late effects' some of the chemo causes. I am now experiencing  my own child overcoming the late effects of radiation and chemo. I watch in awe Kevin's strength to not let this beat him. He reassures me its not ever coming back.  I have experienced my two older sons becoming my heroes as I watch both Kevin and Scotty deal with this world they got thrust into and not let it steal their childhood.




I now have the experience  of having to agree to make my son so sick for so long to try to save his life not knowing how badly we were going to damage his little body or if it even was going to really extend his life.  It still isn't obvious all of the ramifications.  It scares me during the times when  I think about the long term, but I feel blessed to have Kev here today on the mend.  Fighting  with the same determination he used to walk that first time  after his brain surgery just so he could get down to the library to check out a book.

I do have moments of complete sadness for those parents whose children didn't make it. And there is a little guilt for getting my son out of treatment alive. I know it is completely random who gets to keep their kids and who doesn't.  I know we aren 't out of the woods completely yet. I have seen this cancer comeback and if it does it is even harder to win that battle.

I have realized that each day is a gift, that life is to be lived in full color. To tell those around me I love, just that, I love you.  And...still despite this realization I do get frustrated with loved ones from time to time but it isn't nearly as often.   I see things in other people I have never been able to noticed before. I appreciate my friends more who are positive and encouraging.  I find life to be far from black and white, there is so much gray area.  I hope I show more understanding of people who are caught in the gray area than I have before and to be okay with it when it is me caught in that area when answers don't feel simple.  

Now  I find myself  wanting to make more quality time for my kids and my friends. I make more of an effort to 'show up' for loved ones than I ever have, this includes myself. I have made time to train for and run a marathon. Something I had wanted to do  before but had never had to courage.  I sing and dance with my children more often when it is just the 4 of us at home and we are  making dinner.  I make up crazy songs with Jake as we go through our daily tasks.  It is probably why he sings so much.  I rarely did that before.  I have found  new joy in moments of peace.

Probably the most important thing that started that first week of after Kev's surgery is I heard God's voice. It feels crazy when I say it but I can't not acknowledge it either. The experience has strengthened my belief that there is something more than just us trying to get through each day. I don't have it all figured out, may never, but now I know that I am not alone on this journey. We are all in this living experience (or experiment) together, with a little outside help, and it is better to like it than not. 

Through it all I have learned a smile eases the pain, there is so much more to smile about than not, but it is especially easier when you  realized you have been equipped with what it takes to make it over mountains.

Brian

After all the people I have written about it, it has became apparent to me I haven’t written about the one person who has almost always been around, the one person who holds a special spot in my heart and always will. I don’t believe this is because of me or our relationship. I think that is just how he is with everyone.

I meet Brian our junior year of high school in Spanish. I dated one of his friends and he used to pass notes to me for Mark. We went to his senior prom on double dates. Me with Mark and Brian with April, his first love.

Brian and I tried dating his first year of college, my senior year of high school. I am not sure what happened (not very much) but we always stayed in touch. Brian is such a fun person it is hard not to love him. Life took its twists and turns. After ending a 3 year relationship I decided I need a vacation. I took a trip out to San Diego and stayed with Brian for almost two weeks. I found out recently he thought he might become my rebound relationship. But I just wanted to be around someone I felt close to, someone I trusted and that person was him. He tried to make his move but was always respectful when I said it wasn’t what I wanted, or just shied away. He had to work so I would spend the day at the pool. I was fragile and feeling not so adventuresome on my own. When he got off work he would always have something fun planned for us. Brian never gave up giving me the royal treatment the whole time I was there. We went to Disneyland, he took me to see Rent the musical, we went out to nice restaurants, went rollerblading along the ocean. I know I frustrated the heck out of him, but he never treated me any less because of it.

We are closing in on almost 20 years now that we have been friends. I looking back I can see where all the time has gone. I have a bunch of wonderful memories. He has this amazing way of making everyone around him feel like they matter. All of my sisters have gone out to visit them. They all feel like they can call him at any moment. I know Brian is like that with almost everyone. Brian is one of those special souls who can see some beauty in almost everyone around him. Perhaps I am only seeing one side and distance has kept us from spending any time together other than on the phone. But when I step back and look at his world it seems pretty obvious to me that it isn’t I who is the special one despite all the times he has told me that.

We're not getting any younger

It has been a long time since I have wrote anything here(like years). Lots has changed. But that is not what I wanted to write about.

I went to lunch with, heavens, I don't even know what he was. Old coworker/friend.


At any rate, we are sitting at lunch having a good conversation. I may have started the whole thing by asking if he thought he would ever remarry. He was quick to say no. A the comment slipped out that men age better than women. Stupid me agreed then. But the more I think about it the more I think women are just more unafraid of other people's aging (oh we are afraid of our own when it first starts happening); I think most of us (not all) are able to see that those lines on the face and the gray in your hair can be a sign of a life lived, of hopefully wisdom gained from all of those years, all those mistakes, of a person who hopefully has had a chance to figure out who they are.

I took a hard look at the older men around me this past weekend (we have the geriatric ward living down my street). When I look at older men, nope they don't look any better than older women if we are using youth as the determination for beauty. Old men look old too. So what is it that makes old men want young women and old women want to be young again?

This past year has been a rollercoaster ride navigating my son's cancer. My hair is sprouting gray hairs (see a sign of a life lived and love tested!). I loved my natural hair color. I loved not having the maintenance coloring brings. This all came to a crashing halt when my ex-husband would sit in the doctors waiting rooms with me and our son relentless picking on me about my gray hairs. He would announce it to anyone who walked in the room. He has white blonde hair. It will be impossible to see a gray in his hair and how he loves to tell me how well he is aging. He's right he looks the same as when I met him over 10 years ago, but I don't find him attractive.

I must admit I considered just letting the gray come in as it wanted to; just for a couple of months. But then I realized I already felt 65 years old after this past year, I didn't want to look 65 too when I was only in my early 30's. So I got highlights. I still feel like I have been to war and back. You know what I have. No amount of paint will cover that up.

I have a relative that was kind of chubby pretty much her whole life. She was herself when she met her husband. They married and I honestly believe his love and positive belief in her was in big part of her to becoming this stunningly beautiful woman she is today. She works out all the time now, looks amazing even though she is ten years older than she was when she married him. When people see her from high school they are stunned at the transformation. But if she is with her husband you can also see how much he loves her and would go to great lengths to see that she is happy.

I hope that I raise boys who can become men who don't use youth as a guideline for beauty. That they can walk into a room and realize it is a well put together 'older' woman in which lies the beauty. The rest of it is beauty in the making.

The Lincoln Memorial

It was an odd occasion I found myself in last week. Sitting at Subway (think sandwiches not NYC) with just my husband across from me. Most of our conversation was centered on the house and all the projects that needed to be done. We also talked about my oldest that had just learned about our country’s 16th president, Abraham Lincoln. I was telling hubby about how excited little K was when he came home telling me all the things he had learned about good ol’ Abe Lincoln. I asked hubby if there was anyway he could take the following week off. He said no. I told him I would like to take the kids to visit his family who live on the outskirts of DC. Little K has the week off from school and I thought this would be a great moment for the kids to see the family AND the Lincoln Memorial.

So I made the drive, me, my two little ones. The first day we spent at my sister-in-law’s with her two boys that are close to my oldest age. That evening we went to Chuck E Cheese with almost every one of my in-laws for dinner. My boys and their cousins had a great time. I had forgotten how expensive Chuck E Cheese is. But we all had a good time and the kids got some cheap toys that lasted less than 5 minutes.

My father in-law, who is recently retired, has volunteered to be our tour guide, which I am very grateful for. Today we took the kids to the Smithsonian, the Lincoln Memorial, the Vietnam Memorial and the Korean War Memorial. Little K was so happy to get his picture taken with Lincoln. He is looking forward to taking it in for his share day at school. But I think the kid’s favorite part was the Bugs exhibit at the Smithsonian and of course the dinosaurs (which we go to almost every time we are here).

It is odd having to do the kids bath time all by myself. Typically hubby does that job. I am not so good at it. I got yelled at by my oldest for not doing it right. Oh, well.

I Must Admit to Some Tree Hugger Tendencies.

As I have watched much of the forests come down in the last 3 years in my area, I have been curious about what we are doing to our environment; our air quality. My understanding of science is pretty basic, but in elementary I learned we get the oxygen we breathe from trees and other green living plants that surround us. The recent landslide that killed 1,500+ people is being blamed on the recent rains and the logging industry, even though they pulled out over 10 years ago. Recently I found a climate change calculator. It allowed me to select average household for questions such as how much electricity and natural gas does your household use (so I didn't have to go searching through all of my bills last year and figure out my average). It also took into consideration the gas mileage of my car and the amount of miles I drove last year. I drive a 4 cylinder manual transmission. My gas mileage is an average of 27 miles per gallon. With all that information it calculated my household has an annual CO2 emissions of 47.8 tons. It also calculated the annual number of new trees needed to absorb that amount of CO2, which are 144 trees. I was shocked. I was expecting something closer to 90 trees for a lifetime. If you would like to calculate the number of trees it takes to sustain your household, you can at: http://www.americanforests.org/resources/ccc/

Top 10 Reasons Why Trees Are Valuable and Important
1) Trees Produce Oxygen
1 Mature tree can give enough oxygen to support 10 living breathing people. The forest also acts as a giant filter that cleans the air we breath.

2) Trees Clean the Soil
Trees can either store harmful pollutants or actually change the pollutant into less harmful forms. Trees act as a filter for our soil.

3) Trees Control Noise Pollution
Trees muffle urban noise almost as effectively as stone walls.

4) Trees Slow Storm Water Runoff
Flash flooding can be dramatically reduced by a forest or by planting trees.

5) Trees Are Carbon Sinks
6) Trees Clean the Air
7) Trees Shade and Cool
8) Trees Act as Windbreaks
A windbreak can lower home heating bills up to 30% and have a significant effect on reducing snow drifts.

9) Trees Fight Soil Erosion
Tree roots bind the soil and their leaves break the force of wind and rain on soil. Trees fight soil erosion, conserve rainwater and reduce water runoff and sediment deposit after storms.

10) Trees Increase Property Values
Trees can increase the property value of your home by 15% or more.

http://forestry.about.com/gi/pages/mproduct.htm
Whats was your CO2 number?

100 Things About Me, FINAL Installment!!!

Still completely random thoughts.....


72. I have worn contact lenses since 6th grade and will probably never have the surgery to correct my vision.
73. I like to smile and will try to smile my way out of some of the toughest of situation.
74. My oldest (who is only 5) has been to the principal’s office 3 times since September. I am not quite sure how to handle it because its 3 of the 8 teachers he has that have a problem with him. The others say he is great in their classes.
75. My favorite color has always been pink and even though I had a pink bedroom as a child I don’t think I will ever paint a room pink in my house.
76. My pinky fingers are crooked. So are one of my son’s, and so is most of my siblings. It is genetic from my grandmother.
77. One of my great grandmothers was American Indian
78. I am a channel flipper when it comes to radio stations.
79. My favorite TV shows are the Amazing Race and Lost
80. We are planting trees this weekend in our yard to make up for the one we had to cut down this past week.
81. I have a slight addiction to clothes shopping.
82. I love taking my kids to the bounce zone, an indoor place where they have a bunch of inflated moon bounce type things. I get a work out there while I play with them. It is the ultimate multitask, I think.
83. I like Frank Lloyd Wright style homes.
84. When I was in high school, my boyfriend at the time and I would go to open houses for fun because he wanted to go to college for Architecture
85. He dropped out of college when we broke up; I think his parents still blame me to this day.
86. My first serious relationship lasted for 2 years (see above).
87. I love to color with my kids. It is a bit like therapy to me. I don’t always stay in the lines.
88. I don’t really care to color with markers. I defiantly prefer Crayola crayons.
89. I need 8-10 hours of sleep to be a nice person most of the time. If I get less I tend to give people ‘the look’ more often.
90. I miss my grandparents. I sometimes go to their grave site to feel close to them.
91. Only 9 more to go…whoa! (I think that was cheating…but oh well, its my list!)
92. I subscribe to Travel and Leisure to read about places I would love to see.
93. I believe prayers do get answered.
94. I wear Smart Wool socks in the winter time. I hate having cold feet!
95. Sometimes I second guess if there really is life after this, and I wonder how in the world one god can be looking over all of us.
96. I tend to substitute apple sauce instead of oil when I make cakes to cut the fat and keep the cake moist.
97. I believe in the power of love to transform people, not everyone but most.
98. I believe giving love is the best gift anytime of the year.
99. My family has a tradition of not giving the girls middle name so they can keep their maiden names for middle names when they marry.

and FINALLY!!!!

100. I like my first name.

1989

We were all watching the Cosby Show, Who’s the Boss?, and L.A Law. It was also the year Lucille Ball passed away and U.S. jury convicted Oliver North in Iran-Contra affair. Def Leopard was big on the local radio, my hair required lots of hair spray, and my mom had me convinced my fine hair required a perm and I looked better as a blonde. It was also beginning of a defining age for me. Other than hair, midway through my 14th year I had started rebelling against my parents in almost every form I could.

Until that point I had been caught between two worlds, my family’s Mormonism and trying to fit in my public school. Somehow I never managed to fit within the ideal Mormon precincts, but as it is easy to do and I did find a way to fit in at school.

I was born a strong headed girl who also wanted to please her parents so much. It was such an internal battle within my mind until 14. That year I ‘went with’ my first boyfriend; and my first kiss. Brian E. was a year older than me and he was a popular with the ladies. I wasn’t supposed to date until 16 but managed to find loop holes in my parent’s rules. I usually saw him at chaperoned events, which we managed to find weekly. We ‘went with each other’ (a.k.a. ‘go steady’, but we would have never use that terminology) for 6-8 months, I can’t remember exactly, but it was a long time for someone that age. We only kissed, life was so much simpler. For someone who had been an awkward geek in elementary school, the end of middle school was shaping up. I had grown to my current height by then and weighed in at 100 lbs. Shortly after ‘breaking up’ with Brian, my freshman year of high school, 14 to 15, I managed to sneak out on a regular weekend basis. Once I stole my dad’s car to aid my girlfriend in running away from her crazy divorced parents, and I also tried my first beer, but not the two at the same time. Somehow I managed to stay away from things like drugs. It’s not like I didn’t run into them, I was sneaking out of the house and having 16 year olds pick me and my friends up to go to parties we really shouldn’t have been at, but I never tried drugs. My parents, especially my mom, always thought I was out there doing these really wild things, but I wasn’t as bad as she accuses me of being. In all honesty I just wanted to hang out and I wanted to be away from my parents, it was a bit of finding out whom I was and it was a bit of an escape. This had also been the year that my mom’s neurosis really started to become apparent to me. I needed an escape that wouldn’t change the chemical composition of my mind.

That brief moment of my life taught me that I had a rebellious spirit that really didn’t want to harm myself or others. I also learned that I had to try in school. Within the year of rebelliousness my grades fell to their worst because I never studied. I learned I have to study; knowledge doesn’t come easy to me. After that year of pushing the limits, I found a better outlet in an actually getting good grades and an after school job that gave me some much needed confidence.

I sometimes wonder if that rebellious spirit will always be somewhere within me.

My husband and I are back to an aperture in our marriage. We go through times like these a little more than a couple times a year. Time is making it easier to deal with; age is allowing me wisdom not to be too dramatic about these rifts that I don’t quite understand yet. I also now know it is not the end of the world. But it does feel really lonely and cold during these times. I want to find a way to still find laughter together during these times and I don’t think it is possible for him to want to be anymore far away from me than he is right now. We can’t talk during these times because all he says is nothing changes so therefore there is nothing to talk about. I don’t even know what the problem is about. I can’t help but know we are selling ourselves short. I can’t help but think he is wrong. I used to try really hard in the beginning when he first starting going through these episodes of him treating me like I was the reason for everything wrong in his life. I would say I was sorry when I didn’t even really know what I had done wrong. That just seemed to make things worse. Now I just treat him as if he has some strange disease and live with the knowledge that he will eventually come out of this funk.

It is also these times I tend to spend more time away from the house. I take the kids to my parents more often, or find things to keep us busy away from him. Lately I have found myself starting to think about taking the kids all the way cross country by myself for a long weekend. (I don't know if I will actually do it.) There is a zoo out west that I visited a few years ago and I know my kids would love it. A friend of mine has a place nearby that is sitting empty right now. I also have enough frequent flyer miles for the trip. I don’t really want my husband to come with us; I want a break from his snide comments he casually slips into conversations every now and then; his coldness and the disappointment that radiants from him anytime we are in the same room together. Maybe it would be nice to include him, a break maybe he needs himself, but right now I don’t like the thought of including him. I wish my rebellious soul would just rest and I could put my pride aside.

Why I Hate Comcast

The cable company (Comcast) has a monopoly in my area. There is no other choice, aside from Dish Network, for cable out here. It is even worse for high speed internet because there is no alternative. I feel so sucked into giving them my hard earned money. This whole thing starts a little over a week ago when I called to order service. I was having trouble getting phone service set up because the previous owners had Talk America and apparently Talk America does a soft shut off so the service isn’t turned off at the box like the phone company I wanted to go with requires. So I asked for phone service along with the high speed internet from Comcast thinking company ABC wasn’t ever going to be able to turn my phone service on the old fashion way. Late last week I FINALLY got phone service. So I called Comcast to cancel my phone service order, but said I still needed the high speed internet. I thought I was very clear about it. Sure enough the lady who took my call screwed it up and canceled the internet and not the phone. Great! I spent most of yesterday getting the run around and being told it would take another week to get me service. I need internet acess for my job. I only go into the office two days a week. I am expected to keep up with my email and messages during the week days I am not in the office. SO the guy from Comcast, Percy, tells me they will be out at 4:00 that day to hook me up. No one shows up. I figure I better call by 4:30 because within the next half an hour no one will be there. I find out that I was really scheduled for the next day, between 9:30-12:30 at some point someone will show up at my house. If I hadn’t called how as I to know someone was going to be at my house? I am to the point I ask to talk to a supervisor and I am raising my voice on the phone. All I was given was apologies and lots of time (about 1 hr) of being on hold and being told I don’t know why anyone would tell you 4:00 that day. And apparently the next day wasn’t scheduled correctly, so if I hadn’t called I would have had an appointment for service but no one would have shown up?!? If I didn’t have to use them at this point I wouldn’t!!!!!!

The cables guys showed up today at 12:15ish. They installed the cable internet line in the office, but didn’t have the start up CD. It appears to be okay because apparently I can do it online myself. Cable guy #1 says he can do it but it will cost me more money. Theses guys had been just walking into and out of my house without announcing themselves. At one point they drove down the street and climb up a telephone poll, then came back and just walked right in. “Really, I want to give your company more money?!?” I thought. I had Cable guy #1 reassure me I could do it on my own. The minute he left I got an error and had to call tech support to find out my modem hadn’t been registered all the way. The tech support lady was nice and helpful, even friendly which is more than I have gotten from anyone at Comcast to this point. When I was done with the tech questions I asked her about my bill. I was told I was going to be paying the $19.99 a month special they had been running on TV. The bill I was left with today said $42.99. So she has to transfer me to sales.

Great, fabulous, I just LOVE spending more time on the phone! The lady proceeded to question 'who told me I was getting $19.99 special?' and I told her the lady who originally took my order, 'doesn't your company track that?!?'. I said I had seen it on TV and had requested it. Then the sales lady proceeded to tell me that I am paying the $19.99. I asked then why does the bill I was left with today say $42.99? She goes on to say on my bill there should be a $23 discount. “BUT THERE ISN’T ONE ON THE BILL!” I stated sternly. I just want to kick something, but don't. She then tells me I can call any of the other reps if I don’t believe her. I asked to speak to a manager and the request was ignored. I was belittled when I asked why anyone isn’t trying to make me happy? All I was getting was a lot of being put on hold and screw ups. I am a very unhappy costumer. She asks me what I want. Not in a kind way at all either. I honestly felt like she was trying to start a fight with me. I got off the phone and cried. How can a company be so ill managed, rude and disrespectful and be so profitable? Probably because there is no other choice.

I had no idea.....

I had no idea that it is going to take months, possible years to settle into our new home. I had no idea that my darling children would choose this time to test every ounce of patience I have. My two-year-old’s new thing is to run up and hit his older brother and then run away giggling. There is now frequent wrestling matching in the midst of all the boxes and I have trouble telling the difference between playing and a fight. I had no idea that my husband could start so many projects and then leave them half finished along with tools all over the place. Really, I was this clueless.!!!!!

Out of Her Element

I used to live in this metropolitan suburb in my early 20’s. So I didn’t think much of moving back for such a short period as I had lived here before.

I feel as though my life has been incredibly blessed (my life’s not perfect but I know it is by God’s grace I am as comfotable as I am). I also know within my heart I am supposed to give something back, I just don’t know what the timing will be.

The first homeless person I met was a middle aged African American lady who I noticed in the local park, not far from our condo. We had walked up to a small park and I noticed her sitting on one of the picnic tables’ bench. Previously, I had done a little work with some of the county shelters, mostly helping out with holiday fundraising, but I was aware enough of what the system is suppose to look like. While my son and husband were playing on the playscape, I went over and talked to her. I had never in my life gone out and purposely sought out a conversation with a homeless person, but my heart urged me to go speak to her. I did, starting with hello and as I did so I glanced over at my husband who I could tell thought I was crazy. She spoke to me about not knowing where she was going to sleep that night and not knowing what she was going to do. Maybe I was the 100th person who was trying to help this lady find her way, maybe I was the 1st. I told her about some of the shelters I knew of. She asked which bus stop should she get off at and since I have never ridden the bus I was unable to answer that question. I told her I would be back with an answer. I gathered my family as dusk was approaching, then I went home and called the shelters. Or I should say tried to call the shelters. Equipped with the internet, yellow pages and a telephone I had trouble finding a crisis line, how are homeless people suppose to find it???? It the hours are M-F, 9am -5pm; they seem so easy to get a hold of when you want to give them money!!! Finally I found one and called just to check, they would take her if she showed up. My step brother had stopped by while I was looking for the phone number and he drove me back up to the park as I didn't want to go alone. I gave her the phone number of the shelter and $2 for a phone call and bus fare. She tried to refuse the money, but I just asked her to use it wisely for I have been blessed with a little extra. I haven’t seen her at that park since and we go there almost every evening.

The second homeless person I met just a couple of days ago was convinced he was a WWII veteran. Honestly, he looked a too little young to me to really be a WWII vet, maybe old enough to be a Vietnam vet, but that is even questionable now I guess. No matter, apparently he had lost his marbles. I still don’t believe that mental illness is any reason for a person to live without a roof over their head. He was trying to sell little American flags during a recent local festival. We just passed him by like every other person that evening, but of course I felt guilty. I passed him again with my sister and couldn’t help but give him at little more than enough for coffee.

Within the last 2 months I have encountered more homeless than I ever did in the 4 years I lived here, 4 years ago. There are more that I have noticed around here than I have actually come in contact with.

Then today at the gas station, as I was putting gas in my car, a man approached me asking for a couple of dollars for gas. I let him have less than 2 gallons of gas as I wasn’t going to give him cash. The gas station attendant came out and said the man frequently does that there. I had been scammed, or at least it felt like it. He was driving an old beat up car. Who knows what the real story is.

All this reality is leaving me wanting to move back to my sheltered community as I feel so naïve and out of place. And there is a new yearning to eventually try to do something, in some small way, to fix the system that is apparently broke in more ways than one; hopefully my naiveté won’t go away.

The Prophet On Love

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Here is where I got my quote from. Rachel
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Then said Almitra, "Speak to us of Love."
And he raised his head and looked upon the people, and there fell a stillness upon them. And with a great voice he said:
When love beckons to you follow him,
Though his ways are hard and steep.
And when his wings enfold you yield to him,
Though the sword hidden among his pinions may wound you. And when he speaks to you believe in him,
Though his voice may shatter your dreams as the north wind lays waste the garden.
For even as love crowns you so shall he crucify you. Even as he is for your growth so is he for your pruning.
Even as he ascends to your height and caresses your tenderest branches that quiver in the sun,
So shall he descend to your roots and shake them in their clinging to the earth. Like sheaves of corn he gathers you unto himself.
He threshes you to make you naked.
He sifts you to free you from your husks.
He grinds you to whiteness.
He kneads you until you are pliant;
And then he assigns you to his sacred fire, that you may become sacred bread for God's sacred feast.
All these things shall love do unto you that you may know the secrets of your heart, and in that knowledge become a fragment of Life's heart.
But if in your fear you would seek only love's peace and love's pleasure,
Then it is better for you that you cover your nakedness and pass out of love's threshing-floor,
Into the seasonless world where you shall laugh, but not all of your laughter, and weep, but not all of your tears.
Love gives naught but itself and takes naught but from itself.
Love possesses not nor would it be possessed; For love is sufficient unto love. When you love you should not say, "God is in my heart," but rather, I am in the heart of God."
And think not you can direct the course of love, if it finds you worthy, directs your course.
Love has no other desire but to fulfil itself.
But if you love and must needs have desires, let these be your desires:
To melt and be like a running brook that sings its melody to the night.
To know the pain of too much tenderness.
To be wounded by your own understanding of love;
And to bleed willingly and joyfully.
To wake at dawn with a winged heart and give thanks for another day of loving;
To rest at the noon hour and meditate love's ecstasy;
To return home at eventide with gratitude;
And then to sleep with a prayer for the beloved in your heart and a song of praise upon your lips.
By K. Gibran

Wal-Mart???

Is Wal-Mart good for America? I am beginning to think we can not survive on Wal-Mart jobs alone. Is lowering the cost of goods, yet, mostly providing low-income jobs really the direction we want to go? Where our standard of living going? Is it improving or declining? Is this reason for concern?

I am all for fair trade, but I don't think fair trade is trading with countries who have no regard for human rights, human safety, sweat shops. I really think it is time we set standards for what we allow in the country. Is our government being bought off by the Chinese?

On the other side, I have bought things at Wal-Mart that have been made here. They sell the toys that are made less than 2 miles from my home.

I worry about what types of jobs are going to be around in 10-15 years from now. What is the future going to be like for my children? Should I be teaching my kids 5 languages just so they can leave the country and find a decent job?


Other interesting reads:
America's Maligned and Misunderstood Trade Deficit

Just thoughts,
Rachel

Elizabeth

Betty is probably in her 70’s and has osteoporosis. As far as I could tell last year she lived alone, or at least I thought. She lives in a 1960’s lakefront ranch, which is well maintained but has never been updated. She and the older widowed lady next door were surprisingly supportive of my quest to put sewers in the neighborhood (I didn’t tend to get much fan fare from the senior citizens on my block). But what really struck me about Betty is she is the only one who seemed to realized what the sewer project was costing me out of my own pocket. I had people volunteer to help pass out information and get signatures on the petition, which most quit after they saw how difficult it really was. Some of them I know make 3 times as much as my husband and I. None of them offered to help pay for the copying or creating signs to remind neighbors about the meetings except for Betty. She was the only senior citizen that I came across who was thankful for what I was trying to do, offered financial assistance, and any other help I might need. I declined the offer, but her offer of support and enthusiasm for the project helped keep me going when I wondered if it was really ever going to happen.

A couple weeks ago, on a warm sunny morning as I was pushing my youngest in a stroller through our neighborhood, we came across Betty and a male companion walking and enjoying the beautiful day also. They were holding hands, talking up a storm, giggling, and flirting like you would expect to see in a much, much younger couple. I’m not sure who the man is but he certainly puts a bright smile on her face. When we stopped to chat, he seemed very happy also. They had that beam that people in love have for one another. It is nice to be reassured that love, the type of love that breaths life into your soul, has no age barriers.

SOLD!

Our little house is sold; time to move. I’m not sad about leaving the house (I need more space of my own), but my neighbors, the view…..that makes me really sad. Of course, my neighbor, Terry brought over some plants he potted for me while we were signing the papers last night. Now we have to find a place to live! I just want to be on some remote island by myself right now.

They Don’t Make Them Like That Anymore

He always tries to get the door for women. He cleans the snow off of his wife’s, daughters and stepdaughters cars in the morning. He will even warm up their cars up if there is time. He likes to surprise his family with breakfast in bed on Saturdays; he is legendary for his waffles. He can change the oil in the car and build walls to finish the basement. He plays with his grandchildren; he tries to teach them the piano and French when they spend time together; to him, they are a delight. He is willing to change his grandson’s diaper if it needs to be. He holds firm to the notion of chivalry, believes in god, importance of family, and that none of this makes a man less of a man. He lives without really saying much, I think he believes his actions are louder than any words can be. They are.

My dad is an amazing man. I never really noticed how amazing until I watched him with my children. Our relationship is much different now that I have kids of my own. All those little things that my dad would do, I thought just to annoy me, no longer bother me so much. I see my father in a totally different light now. I don’t judge him as harshly anymore because life has taught me it isn’t always simple; I know he has tried to do the best he can. I only hope someday my kids can see me the same way, not perfect but doing the best I can.

I’ve Been Taken Hostage!

I am being held captive, though I am only now realizing this. My captor speaks with a slow childish drawl. He seems to have problems pronouncing his words, except for the word 'candy'. I can make that one out very clearly. He can count, “1, 5, 3, 4". While trying to get ready for the day this morning, my hostage taker insisting he follow me down the stair, apparently there wasn’t enough time to finish getting ready. “Go!” He demanded, trying to turn my body to face down the stairs. “Walk!” I wasn’t sure if he meant I should start walking, or he was going to walk. “Ifford!” He demanded once down to the TV room. “Time out or ask nicely!” I rebutted. “Ifford, please.” While he took his seat. I pressed the play button on the DVD player. He immediately jumped up, pushed me into the kitchen. “Stay!” he barked. He returned to the TV room. I peered around the corner to spy him dancing to the Clifford, The Big Red Dog, intro song. The coast was clear. I quietly crept past the room and made my way back upstairs to finish getting ready.

My captor is about 2.5 feet and waddles when he walks. Most strangers think he is really cute; he can be charming when absolutely needed. He is prone to whining fits, has a good throwing arm (I am always amazed at how far he can throw his food), he can climb tall buildings, I think. He eats cookies partially then tries to put them back. If you see the man who help to make my captor (he looks alot like my captor but much larger and without the waddle), please tell him his wife needs a long vacation without the “cute” captor.

Star Wars

I was about 3 years old when the original Star Wars came out and can’t say I picked up much of the hype then. It was The Empire Strikes Back that was probably the first movie I ever saw in the theater. I must confess there is still apart of me that wants to be Princess Leia when I grow up. She was strong and dedicated to her cause, but still feminine; she could fight off Imperial Storm Troopers just as well as her cohorts, Luke Skywalker and Han Solo. Plus do it all, for the most part, in some form of dress or in the case of Return of the Jedi, almost nothing (I can’t say I would ever want to wear anything like that in public, much less around my brother!).

I am sure someone can poke holes in why Princess Leia was a good role model. In my view, she had a high level political position which was pretty cutting edge for that day; she was able to keep up with the men and still could show a compassionate side. Plus she fell for Han Solo (though I did personally have a crush on Luke Skywalker when I was 7) how much more of a superwoman could she be? Battle the evil forces of Darth Vader, be the youngest senator ever in the Imperial Senate and still have time for romance?

Now that my 4 year old is getting into the Star Wars trilogy, we are watching the movies. I find I am the one drawn to the Star Wars toys at the store. I have to regulate myself. Truth be told, I haven’t exactly grown up. I am not sure this part of me ever will. One of the things I love about being a mom is reliving my childhood a little with my children. It is so amazing to get down on their level and see it through their un-jaded eyes.

Passage

In order to understand our own passage I think we need to understand the one of the people we come from. This story starts with the past and hopefully makes its way to the present.

I grew up in a multigenerational Mormon (otherwise known as the Latter Day Saints) family. My parents are Mormon, my grandparents were Mormon. About five generations behind me, on my father’s side, my ancestors blazed a trail that started in Denmark for one, in England for the other. Both helped with the construction of what was to become Salt Lake City. One ended his years in Mexico and the other just outside of Salt Lake City. The generations between my pioneer ancestors and me have been devoted Mormons. I will always honor where I came from even though my own passage has caused me to leave the faith in which I was raised.

Thomas Steed

I recently came across my paternal grandmother’s grandfather journal. In it he, Thomas Steed, tells of his trip from becoming Mormon in Worcestershire, England in 1840, at the age of 14 to near his end at 84 years old in Farmington, Utah.

It starts with his parents which he describes his mother being, “of medium size, patient, very religious, naturally kind, open hearted and generous to a fault, giving almost her last crust to anyone in need.” His father (I can’t even think how far back of a grandfather that would make him to me) was “about six feet tall, heavy set (about 200 pounds), powerful, sober, hardworking, honest, industrious, thoroughly reliable. For a number of years he was the night watchman in the town of Malvern, England and later the foreman of the public highway.”

In 1835, when Thomas was 9 years old, his parents left the Church of England and joined United Brethren, opening their home to hold meetings. ‘I was in my fourteenth year and almost a skeptic in regard to the religion of the day. In the Sunday school I had asked my teacher if anybody knew that God lived, and if Jesus was the Redeemer crucified 1800 years ago. He answered: “My boy, you ought not to ask such a question, you ought to believe; I don’t know and I don’t’ know who could tell you!” The same question I asked of a number of other individuals who I thought could know, and received the same answer. That caused me to think that there was nothing in religion, if nobody knew anything about these things, and I made up my mind to have nothing to do with it.’ On my own personal note, I find it ironic that this same spirit caused one of his great granddaughters, me, to leave the faith which brought him to America; the same faith that him and the generations between us were so devoted to.

By no means in my American History class, 13 years ago, did I consider that one of my relatives actually lived what I had been learning. At the age of 18 with some of his Uncles, Thomas Steed, set out for Nauvoo, Illinois from their homes in England. Lying there in the text before me, my great, great, great grandfather was telling of arriving in New Orleans in 1844, riding on the Little Maid of Iowa, perhaps her last voyage, up the Mississippi River until they reached Nauvoo.

Shortly after the murder of the church’s prophet and founder, Joseph Smith. he moved with his uncles and their families along with his new wife to Keokuck, Iowa I think in spring of 1846. There they worked and saved for the journey west. “In June, 1849, the great calamity of Asiatic cholera spread its awful devastations through the United States and was very sever in Keokuck also. Very many were called at a few hours’ warning; a number of our Mormon brethren and sisters were taken.”

With four wagons, nines oxen, five cows, two mules, and one horse all shared by 10 members of his extended family they fled Keokuck and started west. Shortly beyond the Missouri River they joined up with 50 other Mormons pioneers in August of 1850. They traveled the Fort Kearney and the crossing of the South Platte.”


To be continued later………....

Milkshake Cure

Within 2 1/2 hours I completely lost all mental capacity to handle my children. I was yelling, the way a mother yells when she is beyond the edge of reason and cannot see clearly enough to find her way out. It wasn’t that my two and four year old did anything other than their normal mischievousness. My husband had been on my case earlier that morning because our 2 year old son was up (again) at 6:30 am, hungry. He doesn’t think children should be up this early, and why can’t I take control of this and get him back to sleep. Just as simply as that, right? "Why is it that 'stuff' always seems easier for him? Why do the kids listen to his commands at first bark unlike the two or three times I have to get on them?" kept sounding off in my head. It was me. I was letting his nitpicking get to me; normally when he gets in these moods I can keep it in perspective. What was happening to me?

That morning, I pointlessly tried to put a small child back to bed. All the while the morning sun shines through his white blinds telling all of us it is time to get up. I was responding to HIS orders just like a child. At 9:00 am I snapped. Something in my cranium went. I made the emergency call; while tears streamed down my checks and the words trembled from my mouth; I needed my friend, my mentor in this mothering career, "Carole, I don’t want my children anymore. I can’t do this!!!!” She was over in less than 5 minutes, still in her pajamas, with her 16 year old son’s tennis shoes on her bare feet.

She listened as I told her my plight. “Why?!?” She offered condolences and told me of when her now 15 and 16 year old boys were my kid’s age. She thought she would go back to smoking. She said there where days when just another Barney song tipped the scales, and she would have to pack them in the car for a drive so she could find her way back to reality.

I know it isn’t just about my children. It was my children’s needs and wants, my husband’s and mine came to the intersection of my life with a crash. I took some important vows a couple of years back, brought a couple of children into the world and now I wonder how am I not going to lose myself, my true sense of self, in all of this?

I don’t have the answers, yet, but I have figured out so far I can’t do it all alone. I still need my dad, my step mom, my husbands parents. I still even need my ex-husbands parents. I am blessed that I have managed keep a good, close relationship with them. I need my sisters to help remind me of who I am. I need my friends, they are helping me become a better person and remind me to have fun.

One of the moms from my mothers group has been offered a really good job. She has been a stay at home mom all of her daughters’ three years of life. As with all moms who go back into the workforce, no matter how long they have been home, it is bittersweet. It is nice to do something for you, which is what employment offers, but losing the time with your child, something you know you will never get back, is difficult to let go of. I realized, a while ago, that I can’t be there for every second and it is unfair to my children to try to. She asked me for some advice about going back and all I could offer up is: it takes a village. If you have kind, loving people who are willing to love your child, not necessarily as you would, but love them never the less, aren’t you showing them the best part of this world? What a wonderful thing to share with your child that there are more people who will love them out there, more than just Mom and Dad. It’s not going to be all warm and fuzzy, and other people will do it their way, and that will bug you as a parent. But there is a difference between being protective and controlling. The most difficult issue for me is fact that other people do it differently than I would. I don’t always agree that my ex-mother-in-law gives my children so much juice and feeds them a ton of ice cream, but really is that something to get upset over? She loves them. She takes the time to get on the ground with them to play trucks with them, with patience I wish I had. So ice cream and juice are small in comparison to the love both of my boys get from her. Yesterday when the boys were at her house while I was at work, my ex-husband took the morning off and spent it teaching the boys the phrase, “I’m going to kick your butt!” Not something a mom wants her little sweet boys running around saying, but my ex also had just spent the whole morning wrestling with them. My little ones were on cloud nine. To hear their joy when I called to check on them more than made up for what phrase they were learning.

On the way home yesterday the three of us, me and my two little guys, stopped at McDonald’s for a milkshake; I was probably still feeling guilty about losing it earlier this week. As we were waiting for our treats I overheard the lady at the counter tell a co-worker “God’s been testing me this week.” I just thought to myself, “he’s been testing all of us this week, sister”. As Kevin, my oldest, took a drink of his milkshake he said, “Mommy, I love you.” I had been forgiven. My child's love is a beautiful thing.

Whole Foods

On my way home today I stopped by Whole Foods Market and ran in to pick just a handful of things up. As I was pushing my grocery cart to the check out, I stopped just as I pulled in. From the corner I noticed an older man trying to cut me off so he could get ahead of me. I was so amazed at the spectacle that I looked at my cart then at the stuff he had jumbled in his hands and said, “Go ahead” a little bewildered. It all made sense when the lady ahead of me who just finished her transaction told the puzzled cashier, “This is my husband, we forgot a few things.”

I live a life full of males, my house is full of them, I work in a very male dominated industry and I have always had at least a few close male friends, which is great, it keeps me in the know for my little guys. Plus, it is not that there aren’t any women in my life, I am very close with my sisters and I have a group of girlfriends.

About the same time my ex-husband came back into my life, before he was even my husband, I had started to spend a lot of time with Frank; the company he worked for and mine were working on a project together that I was assigned to write the manual for it. Frank and I had an easy, natural friendship. This particular time Frank had to take a customer and his wife out see a game of hockey and to the local Chop House, he called to let me know he would like it if I went with them. That night he kissed me for the first time as we were waiting for the shuttle to come and pick us up. When he kissed me it was different, somehow more special than others before and as he held my hand, it felt protected.

When you are walking the line between a friendship and a relationship someone has to take that jump of faith and tell the other how they feel. Neither of us did that, so we fell back into our friendship, nothing was mentioned about the kiss. And I started seeing the man who would eventually become my ex-husband more seriously. Frank and I stayed friends though my marriage. As I was going through the divorce Frank would always tell me how he had written me a couple of letters but never sent it, several times. I didn’t understand if it was something to help me through a hard time or something more. I wish Frank had sent me those letters because then maybe I wouldn’t have lost a great friend, maybe I still would have. It wasn’t until well after our communication slowed did I realize what may have been going on. Maybe it wouldn’t have changed anything, but we will never know. I wouldn’t have thought that older man at Whole Foods today was so strange if he had just said, “Excuse me that is my wife ahead of you”.

Is your heart getting larger with your life?

“Is your heart getting larger with your life?” Pastor Chris asked the congregation last night. He spoke about how life can cause our hearts to shrink if we don’t take a time out and enjoy the things such as music, nature or even spend time with someone who adores us openly. Everyone needs a soul fill up every once in a while to help us enlarge our hearts so that we can show more compassion to others. Here are some heart expanding exercises that he recommended:
*Listen to beautiful music, something that inspires you
*Take time to enjoy beautiful scenery. Look up at the stars at night, enjoy a sunset.
*Have time away, we all need a change of scenery to recharge.

Kisses from Heaven

I should be working on the newsletter for my moms group (yes, we have a support group) instead I am writing about Kisses from Heaven.

I can already look back and see many mistakes I have made even though I am just 30; some were made out of circumstance as it can be hard to tell what you are looking at until you have a chance to back away and some just plain stupidity. I never wanted to have children until well into my thirties. The intention had always been to go to college, finish college well educated, get a good job, have a great career and maybe squeeze in a family a little closer to forty than I am now. I graduated high school and moved close to 1,500 miles away from home. I knew I needed away from the craziness of my home if this plan was going to work. The first semester went really well. Second semester my mom started calling daily and sometimes more. Less than 6 months later I was returning home. I went back to school and worked while back at my parent’s house but things were spiraling so out of control I didn’t feel I could even be a good protection barrier for my younger siblings anymore. I worked 2 jobs and moved out with a friend of a friend. I took some classes here and there until my younger sister came to live with me. By then I had found my way into Technical Writing and was making a decent living for a 20 year old without a college degree. My sister came to live with me when I was 22. Shortly after my paternal grandmother who lived less than 10 miles away was told she only had months to live. I had left school for what should have been just a hiatus and spent time with the grandmother who I needed to get to know. The afternoon before a work Christmas party I got a call from my father asking if I would like to meet him for dinner. I hadn’t talked to my father in almost a year. I dropped everything to meet him. He moved into the condominium I had bought less than a month before upon my instance that he didn’t live out of his car anymore. At the time he was an executive that made over six figures but my mom kept all the money. I am not a saint and still, at times, have trouble not being resentful but I took this on of my own accord. I can intellectually understand what being an abused spouse can do to ones reasoning abilities yet it is hard as a child that so desperately wants a parent to protect them. Within two years of my father living with me I needed him to move out. My parents divorce was dragging, my grandmother though not recovered, amazingly, was hanging on at every ounce of life she could sometimes I think to help keep me sane. The day of her funeral there was a message on my machine from a guy I dated a couple of times the year before. We went out the next week. My dad moved into my grandparent’s home, as it was across the street from his work. A year later I ended up pregnant with Kevin. Our marriage, I like to joke, lasted less than the honeymoon. When I had found out I was pregnant with Kevin the doctor had asked me if I wanted to terminate the pregnancy. To me that was never an option. Adoption was an option in my mind and I thought long and hard about it but could not bring myself to it, something deep with in me told me that it wouldn’t be easy but it would be okay. Ten hours of labor, a lot of drugs and three weeks early Kevin was born in the summer of the new millennium. I held him for the first 42 hours without putting him down except when the nurses forced me to for his routine exams. He started babbling right away. Kevin had tons of family that fell in love with him right away. His dad was proud to have a boy but still hardly around. He went to the bar the day we came home from the hospital. I don’t think I even waited up for him. We finally went our separate ways while Kevin was just a few months old. I thought I would be condemned to a life of single parenting. Just as the papers were being processed though the court system, at work, my female cube mate moved and was replaced with Mr. I Am Way Too Smart. Really, I didn’t like him one bit. I had worked with him before he sat next to me. His intelligence was very apparently way beyond mine and he had no time for little minds like mine that couldn’t comprehend the code he was speaking in. Then his boss put him on a committee with me and moved him next to me. When I first found I was drawn to him it seemed so strange. As we worked closer together I found that he made me feel special and beautiful. He held me when I cried. He cried that he even had me to hold. He loved Kevin and wanted to be a father to him. It seems that someone says the word marriage and I seem to get pregnant. While planning our October wedding we found out little Scotty was on the way. The wedding moved to July. Why can’t anything ever go as planned? I was so frustrated at this point and very upset at God when really it had been my own poor decision. I had been on the pill but really didn’t he say wait until marriage? Apparently he really meant it for me and I hadn’t listened at least twice! Despite this, I know my boys are gifts.

Life has stopped the spiral of craziness; my dad recently married a woman that treats him well and he loves deeply. I have not seen him this happy, ever. My sister went on to graduate from college and is now working towards reaching her dreams. My youngest sister attends church with me every Sunday and spends lots of time with her nephews when she isn’t at cosmetology school. Now life isn't perfect but much more sane.

Both of my boys are very affectionate but especially the youngest. Scotty says “Thank you mommy’ just for putting on his socks for him. Sometimes after bedtime stories we snuggle and he showers me with kisses I think because I stayed a little longer. They are kisses from Heaven. I know, through my little boy, God is letting me know despite everything that has gone wrong love can conquer it if we just stay strong. He has sent me the most precious reminder, kisses from heaven.
Copyright 2005

Journey through joint custody

This is my first try at starting a blog. Please bear with me through my mistakes. I will make many. Feel free to make suggestions. I am starting it with something I wrote for my son. It is a story I want to share in case there are others out there like I once was and still am. I wrote this a few years ago but it is still all true. Pray and listen to your gut. Let me know your thoughts.
God Bless,
Rachel

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My memory starts when I was seven, my mother would pack majority of my father’s clothes in a suitcase and leave them on the front porch usually when he had to work late or went out of town on business. I and my younger brother and sister were instructed not to let our father in when he tried the door only to find the locks changed once again. This happened so many times that my middle sister, Becca, tells of times that my mother’s behavior frightened her and I would reassure her that this would pass, mom does it all the time. Things spiraled more and more out of control through the years. My mother taught me to think of my father as this horrible, zealously religious man who took advantage of his wife; as a child I never let him into my life. I never heard her say anything nice about him. Reality of what was going on hit me when I saw my mother recruiting the youngest two, then 7 and 9 to help throw (literally) my father’s things outside onto the lawn; underwear, clothing, contents of his office including the large desk. I knew my mom was wrong and I was wrong for going along with her. I realized maybe I should give my paternal grandparents, who I had been cut off from for 10 years, a chance and my father who lived in the same house as I grew up in but I never took time for, nor respected. My parents had five children in all and finally divorced after 23 years of marriage.

At 25 I found myself in a relationship that me miserable, including the feeling of lack of control my mother must have felt and unexpectedly pregnant. My largest fear was becoming my mother. I honestly believe life is too short to be so miserable and, though marriage is hard, requires work and will go through rough times, there are certain relationships that it is healthier to let go of then hang on. I hung on through the pregnancy hoping that things would get better and when I knew I had exhausted my options, and myself, and that I did not have a healthy home for my son, I filed for divorce.

Now, at two and a half years old (and two years later), my son Kevin, is a very well adjusted, happy child and no one person can take full credit for it. It is all him and the people who love him so much, all of us. I believe that each of us, his step dad (who is just as much a dad as his biological father), his biological father, I, grandparents and the team at daycare all play an imperative role in his life. It seems some of society is still of the misguided belief only the mother plays a key role everyone else is supporting cast. Mothers just as fathers are important. I have made decisions that have gone against what my family, attorney and counselors have advised me, not out of rebellion but life has taught me different lessons than what most people know. Mainly I don’t want Kevin living through the hell I lived through as a child. Kevin’s dad surprised me when he requested joint custody as we were going through the process. I couldn’t take away from Kevin what my mother had taken away from me (my father and extended family). In the beginning I didn’t believe Eric, Kevin's father, wanted it truly from his heart. He had refused the first six months of Kevin’s life to change diapers when I was around and do the other tasks he considered ‘women’s work’ on top of me to working full time outside the home. He spent most of his time away from us and not because of work (he somehow is one of the lucky few who can work less than 36 hours a week and make a very good living) but because his social life is so much more important. When joint custody was surprisingly proposed, I really thought it was because he didn’t want to pay so much in child support. But I am not an 'All Knowing God' and apparently apt to make judgment mistakes. We agreed to joint custody, fifty/fifty straight down the line with the philosophy that if I saw he started to flake out I would go back to court and fight for full custody. In my mind Kevin had a right to have his father involved in his life as much as me and as long as his father wanted that role I had no right to stand in the way. There were times it was really difficult to put my feelings aside and the anger I had toward his father away and focus what was right for Kevin not just what was necessarily easy for me. Now we talk at least daily about Kevin’s activities and a little about what is going on in our own lives. We don’t always agree and I have had to bit my tongue many times; we try to comprise in order to give Kevin a firm foundation.

I remarried shortly before Kevin’s second birthday to a man Kevin has known since he was 8 months, a man who from the beginning treated Kevin as his own. Little Kevin doesn’t remember when life wasn't this way and now the three of us work together to make sure Kevin gets the best of all worlds. We all add something important to his world. His “Daddy Mike”, an engineer, is great at building things around the house and includes Kevin (when it is safe) in his home improvements. Kevin loves to walk around the house ‘fixing things’ with his hammer. Kevin would have never been exposed to this outlet if Mike didn’t take such an active role. There is nothing his little hammer can’t fix, from the old car we have that just broke down (“Daddy I need my hammer to fix your car,” when we were at the mechanics). That includes when his step father and I disagree, “I’ll fix you with my hammer!” Kevin is also learning a very important lesson about love from his daddy Mike that he wouldn’t have gotten from a traditional situation. I like to cook and Kevin loves to come and help me cook dinner. His “big daddy”, a recruiter, is well spoken which I see developing in Kevin’s ability to communicate.

One person can raise a child and there was a time I thought I might. I feel blessed that I didn’t have to and Kevin's life is much fuller because of this.

Copyright 2005