Boys

Wow.

My friend Suzanne just sent me this and it makes me feel bad. I love, love, love my boys. And by having sons, it has opened up an entire world to me that I wouldn't know had I only had daughters. But I've never quite been able to shed the sense of loss or failure that I feel over not having a girl. I never even realized I wanted a girl until I didn't have one. I feel guilty, of course, for saying these things. That somehow by admitting it, that it lessens the love I feel for my boys. I've always thought that God must feel I didn't deserve a girl, that somehow I'd just fuck her up the way my mom did to me. Stupid, huh?

Anyway, Suzanne sent me the article below. I'll try to find and post a link to the actual story later.

from the UK Telegraph

Boys 'lead to more post-natal depression'


By Rebecca Smith, Medical Editor
Last Updated: 5:58pm GMT 13/02/2008

Women who give birth to boys are more likely to suffer post-natal depression than those having daughters, a study has found.



Having a son is 'more likely to reduce quality of life'
Research carried out in France found three quarters of women who were diagnosed with severe post-natal depression had sons.

Even if the mother had not been diagnosed as depressed, having a son was significantly more likely to reduce their quality of life compared to mothers of girls, according to the research which was published in the Journal of Clinical Nursing.

A team of researchers led by Professor Claude de Tychey, from Université Nancy, France, studied 181 women from a community where there were no cultural pressures about the sex of children.

All the women were aged 19 to 40, with 52 per cent of the total giving birth to boys and 48 per cent giving birth to girls.


A third had signs of post natal depression when interviewed one to two months after the birth and nine per cent had severe symptoms.

Prof de Tychey said: “When we launched our research, our main aim was to study the effect that gender has on PND.

But the overwhelming finding of the study was the fact that gender appears to play a significant role in reduced quality of life as well as an increased chance of severe PND.”

They also found women who had given birth to a boy reported lower quality of life scores in 70 per cent of cases compared with women who had delivered a girl, regardless of whether they suffered from post-natal depression. In women who did not have depression, mothers of sons had lower quality of life scores in nine out of the 10 categories.

“These figures show very clearly that having a boy resulted in lower quality of life scores in all cases” says Professor de Tychey.

“We also discovered that being a first-time mother had no effect on quality of life scores.

Women had the same general scores regardless of whether the recent birth was their first or second baby.” The study also found that women who had a daughter as their first child were more likely to have a second baby than those who had a boy first.

Prof Tychey said: “Previous studies have shown that women who live in cultures where greater value is placed on sons are more likely to suffer from PND if they give birth to a girl.

“However, we believe that this study – carried out in a French community where women didn’t face cultural pressures over the sex of their baby – is the first to show that women who give birth to boys are more likely to suffer from severe PND and reduced quality of life. Further research is needed to find out why this happens.”

I am Superman

Brendan has been coming up with so many cute and funny things lately that it has been hard to keep them all in mind when I want to share them.

First, he has a really funny thing he says and I've started saying it around here at home because I think it's really hilarious. Sometimes I'll ask him to help me out by taking something to his room or to hand something to his brother. If he already has his hands full, he'll say, I'm sorry, Mommy. I can't...I'm full of hands.

On Martin Luther King, Jr.'s birthday, he came home from pre-K and announced that it was King Martin's birthday, leaving me with an image of a smiling MLK wearing a crown and blowing a party horn. He learned a lot about MLK between his actual birthday and the day we honor him. His class saw two films about him and went to a special assembly. When school was out on MLK Day, I made French toast for breakfast. Realizing I had no powdered sugar to go on the French toast, I put green sugar sprinkles on it instead. Brendan was excited and I told him it was a special treat for MLK day. A few minutes later, Brendan is screaming for me. When I came back to the kitchen, he tells me, Mommy, Beckett's eating my Martin Luther King French toast! This time the image that came to mind was a piece of French toast with MLK's image on it, like the Mary toast.

His most recent act of interest has been to come up with his own superhero identity, complete with an archnemesis.

As we were driving a few days ago, he told me that he is really Glue Guy. His superpower is glue. He can shoot glue from his fingertips to stop bad guys and he can use his sticky fingertips to climb. He acquired his superpowers in class one day when he accidentally spilled some magic glue that he had found in a cabinet on himself while doing an art project. It turned him into Glue Guy.

His archenemy is Gorilla Guy. Less than 3 feet tall, Gorilla Guy, aka Beckett, stalks and chases Glue Guy, stealing his things and smearing the remnants of his favorite food – bananas! – all over Glue Guy's stuff.

I must say, I was duly impressed with my proto-geek's imagination. His love of all things super and his imagination just make me think there's a career awaiting him in the world of comics. And that would be just fine.

Creep

After Meredith Emerson's murder and the revelation that a potential serial killer had been roaming throughout North Georgia the last few years, self-defense classes popped up throughout the Metro like mushrooms in March. I think there were a lot of one-off classes designed to just give the attendees a few basic ideas of what to do if they're attacked.

This past Sunday, I had the pleasure of attending a real martial arts-based self-defense class taught by a black belt in Tae Kwan Do. My friend Barrett has been attending the class for a few weeks now and asked me to go with her. I loved the class and am eager to go back. The instructor's focus seemed to be very much on empowering the women in the class and helping them to believe in their own abilities to defend themselves should they find themselves in a dangerous situation. I am eager to go back.

Especially since yesterday, I thought I might have cause to use my newly acquired, but limited knowledge of self-defense.

After picking Brendan up from school, I took the boys to Target to pick up some Valentine's goodies for Brendan's friends. While we were shopping, I noticed a strange-looking man staring at me as he walked toward us. He passed us, then I noticed him turn and begin following us. When I stopped to look at some shoes, he passed us and stopped within sight and kept glancing over at us.

I didn't want to freak out at that point and we kept shopping and I didn't notice him again until we were leaving. Suddenly, he came out of nowhere and began following us again. It was like he had been waiting around the exit for us.

So, he followed us out of the store and my first thought was landing a kick in the center of his chest. My next thought was finding someone to tell. As I was debating going back into the store, I saw two young men who had just parked next to my car coming toward the store. I stopped them and asked if they would mind waiting on the sidewalk until I loaded the boys in the car. As soon as he saw me talking to these two young man (who I think thought I was the crazy one), he turned and went in the opposite direction. I was so flustered that I left my shopping bag in the cart on the sidewalk and had to go back for it.

As I was leaving, I saw a security guard patrolling the parking lot and told him what had happened and he said he'd check it out.

Maybe I overreacted, but maybe not. It's just like when Barrett accidentally popped the instructor in the nose with her knee while he was demonstrating a technique. It was a little uncomfortable at the moment, but perhaps that pain saves her life one day. If my discomfort and embarrassment at seeming paranoid keeps Creepy McCreeperson from Target -stalking someone else, I've done something positive.

Faces & Names

I really want to like Brendan's pre-K teacher and not be critical of her. I definitely never criticize her in front of him and I encourage him to like her.

But I swear, she's driving me nuts.

Seven months into the school year and she is still calling him the wrong name. She calls him Brandon instead of Brendan. When she writes his name, she spells it B-R-E-N-D-O-N.

Usually, in the mornings, I'm rushing. This is my fault. But, most mornings, I don't get to take my shower and dress in anything nicer than sweats until after I get Brendan to school and Beckett down for a nap. The days when I do shower, dress nicely, and do my hair and face before going into the school, the teacher always makes a big deal over my appearance and tells me that I should always wear makeup. I get it. I know I look a lot better when I'm done up. Don't we all? But I think it's kind of rude to tell someone that and to tell them that as often as she has told me.

I asked her if I could bring cupcakes to the class for Brendan's birthday. His birthday was on Saturday and I asked if I could bring cupcakes on Monday or Tuesday. She said either day would be fine, just show up right after naptime. So, on Tuesday morning, I told her I'd be back with cupcakes that afternoon. But when I showed up she acted totally surprised and even asked me if I had told her I was coming! ARGH!

The thing is...she comes across as being very sweet and friendly. I just don't know how to respond to her. So, I just take it. But I feel like my son is getting shafted by being in her class and I don't have high hopes for the rest of his elementary school career if this is how we're starting off.

I wish I could volunteer in the class more to get a feel for how things are on a day-to-day basis, but with Beckett I just can't. What would I do with him?

Maybe I'm just overreacting. I don't know. I loved school, but I know that bad teachers or teachers who did not respond well to me always made me insecure and made me hate going to school. And I know not every teacher is going to like my kid. What's weird is that this teacher seems to love my kid. She always tells me how sweet he is and how good he is. He never gets into trouble.

I suppose it's just my high expectations that a teacher should be able to pronounce and spell a name that is not that unusual. She manages to pronounce and spell Kaif correctly. Is Brendan really that hard?

Sick of Me

I hate being overemotional.

I used to think I was just a really passionate, caring person. But now, I wish I could be more analytical and robotic by nature.

Anyway, I really think that having this low-grade sickness, sinus infection, crud, or what-the-hell-ever it is for the last three weeks while taking care of two boys who've slept irregularly for the last three weeks (although it has improved dramatically this week! Yay for sleep!), has taken its toll and also contributed to my spaz-fest.

I mean, really? Who sits around thinking about being alone when they could take joy in their friendships, their partner, their beautiful children, their wonderful life.

And I have been thinking about all those things.

I have felt on top of the world the last week or so. I am working on writing some articles to submit to various publications. I'm making new friends and building relationships. I'm in touch with a ton of old friends from high school (thank you My Space!) and my darling cousin who was like a sister to me growing up.

I don't know why I would spin out like that.

I'm sorry God. I'm sorry Universe. I'm sorry Scott. I'm sorry all my dear friends that I take for granted. I'm sorry my darling sons.

I promise to do better. To focus on all the goodness and joy. To be the person I want to be. Happy and grateful.

What Goes Down, Must Go Up

The problem with antidepressants is that when you've been on them long enough and start to feel great over the course of enough months, you then forget you need them because you're not focused on making yourself feel better. You just do feel better. Well, then you forget to take them one day. And a second day. And maybe even a third day and you still feel great. But then, you remember you haven't taken them and so you take your medicine, but by the point it's too late and you're going down.

Maybe not for long. But you are.

My panic and easy trigger last night is evidence of my forgetting to take my medicine for a few days. Even though I took it Thursday and Friday after having forgotten to take it Monday through Wednesday, it was too late. Being aware of what's going on though is helpful. At least for me. And it allows me to exert a little bit of control over my emotions because I'm able to tell myself that I wouldn't feel this if I hadn't forgotten my medication.

In fact, I already feel like I'm back on track. Hopefully, I didn't go too far off the rails and make too many others around me unhappy.

Give a Little Bit

On February 15 of 2007, friends of ours named T. and S. brought their beautiful new baby girl into the world. They named her Claire and she joined their happy, energetic family of five, that included two big sisters and a big brother. Just two months younger than my Beckett, Claire was a sweet, angelic, beautiful and quiet baby girl. I only heard her cry one time and then all it took was me cooing and talking to her to settle her down until her mommy could pick her up.

On April 19, 2007, T. and S. awoke to find that their baby girl had died in her sleep of SIDS. And so began the most gut-wrenching journey of their lives.

T. told me once that the only thing that gave her any real sense of peace or comfort throughout the last year was when she had the opportunity to attend a memorial service for the families of organ donors that was attended by the recipients of donor organs and their families. I have a vague recollection that she might have met a family that received one of Claire's organs. The knowledge that somehow someone was helped from all of it dulled the pain for a moment at least.

This year our circle of friends has been very intent on helping T. and S. get through the day that would have seen their lovely girl turning one. None of us can imagine their pain, but we would do anything in our power to lessen it. For weeks, we wondered and worried over what an appropriate and joyful celebration of her brief life might be. Then T. came up with an idea of her own. She said that if she were not pregnant (she's due on Mar. 21), she would like to donate blood in Claire's honor that day.

We couldn't think of a more touching memorial, so another friend – Carrie – and I have organized a blood drive in Claire's honor on February 15.

Blood supplies fall to critical levels at this time of year and here in Atlanta supplies are extremely low right now.

If you live in the Atlanta area, I encourage you to take some time out of your day on Feb. 15 and come to the Red Cross Donation Center on Monroe Drive.

There are two ways you can go about this if you want to participate. You can give your information to me via the comment form below and we will schedule the appointment and get back to you. Or you can contact Beverly Vicks @ the Red Cross 1-800-448-3543 option 1. If you have given, we or Beverly will need your first and last name. If you have never donated, we need your first, last, DOB and phone # to get you processed before the 15th. The donation will be given at the Monroe facility right off of the I-85 exit. If and when you call Beverly, tell her specifically that you're calling for the Claire Austin donation on the 15th of Feb. Please let us know if you will need someone to sit with your children there while you donate. Schools are out on this day, but we still want you to come.

We are hoping this will become an annual event. And even if you live in another city and want to donate on that day or around this time, let me know.

If you plan to donate, also please leave a comment even if you don't need me to schedule you. We'd like to let the family know how their experience has impacted others and the positive light that radiates from their darling girl's brief life.

Thanks.

Goodbye Super Tuesday

Tuesday – Super Tuesday as it were – was something of an anniversary for me.

The very first time I got to vote was 20 years ago on the very first Super Tuesday ever. It was one of the happiest and most exciting days I can ever remember.

I walked from my house to the elementary school a block away after I got home from high school that afternoon.

I remember that it was raining, but still very bright outside. And it was warm.

I had been in that same gym in Vena Stuart Elementary School maybe a hundred times...going to vote with my grandmother, a die-hard Republican, and as a student there in kindergarten and third grade. I remember all the times I would go into the voting booth with my grandmother and tucked safely behind the navy blue curtain, watch her push buttons and finally pull the lever to cast her ballot. I remember the time a voting official told me I couldn't go in with my grandmother and she waved her cane in the air and gave him what for, telling him that I wouldn't affect her vote and that she wanted me to learn something about electing the people who control our lives.

The day I voted for the first time I felt as if I were carrying something valuable: my right to have a say. Something my grandmother would have had the opportunity to do when she was just one year older than I was when I voted. Born in 1901, she would have turned 19 the year women first gained the right to vote. I cannot imagine how thrilling that must have been.

And yet, I am thrilled each and every time I have the opportunity to exercise my right to vote. I was thrilled this week to learn that our regular babysitter, MD, was going to vote for the first time on Tuesday. I'm sure my glee over this knowledge seemed odd to her, but really, I was just thrilled to know that she had any interest in the political process. I am confident this girl had very strong reasons for casting her vote for a particular candidate and I am curious as to whom she would have voted for. I'm certain that she would not be the kind of woman who would simply vote as her parents tell her to vote. Just as in 1988, on a balmy Tuesday, I voted for the first time and broke with family tradition to cast my vote for my Tennessee homeboy Al Gore.

The first person to vote for a Democrat in my family in decades. And I've never looked back. If he were a candidate, I'd vote for AG in every election. My love and admiration for him has endured and only gotten stronger these 20 years. And even though I had a devil of a time deciding for whom to vote on this Super Tuesday, my love affair with the democratic (or federal republic) process has only gotten more passionate with time, and I was as excited to vote this year as I was that day way back in 1988.

Heart of Mine

I am still having trouble with the fact that my baby is five. More than I am having with my own recent age upgrade.

He's still as sweet as ever though. On Saturday night, long after the party was over. After the Spider-Man cake and chocolate ice cream. After the laughing friends and perfect presents. After we'd gone out to celebrate his uncle's birthday at a big restaurant where the waitstaff sang Happy Birthday to both Brendan and Uncle Greg. Late in the night, in the quiet and dark, I held Brendan on my lap while giving him a breathing treatment after a coughing spasm. As he nestled his head against my neck, he said, Mommy, I will always let you hug and kiss me and I will love you forever.

Am I blessed or what?

Of course, I will remind him of this moment when he's an embarrassed 12-year old, pulling away from me as I try to hug him goodbye in front of his friends.

And I will carry that moment with me, in my heart, long after he's 10, 15, or 50. He will always be my first son, my darling boy.

If you want to see more pictures from the day, they're here.

Too Much Time On My Hands

I'm quiz-crazy tonight for some reason. It feels like the first time I've sat down all day and I guess I just need some mindless entertainment.

You Are Right Brained In Love

Bit of a drama queen Peacemaker, first to end a fight Good at thinking up creative dates Tend to fall in love and get hurt easily Going with your gut instead of your head Empathetic and caring, sometimes to a fault Good at recognizing patterns in relationships Been in love many times, perhaps too many to count Wildly passionate and intense when falling in love Spontaneous with relationships, going with the flow Overly visual - can play back past dates like movies in your mind Roses, love poems, and stuffed animals are a good start to winning your heart

Are You a Right Brained or Left Brained Woman in Love?

Roam If You Want To

You Belong in Rome

You're a big city soul with a small town heart Which is why you're attracted to the romance of Rome Strolling down picture perfect streets, cappuccino in hand And gorgeous Italian people - could life get any better?

What City Do You Belong In?

Heaven On Their Minds

One of the things I've been struggling with and touched on in a previous post is my inability to live up to my desire to be a good person and put away the petty thoughts and feelings of anger, jealousy, envy, and judgment. A big reason for this is that when Scott and I were married we chose the following passage as one of our readings and when we chose it we did so because we believed it and ever since then, I've been trying to live it.

"Teacher, 21 which commandment in the law is the greatest?"
37
He said to him, 22 "You shall love the Lord, your God, with all your heart, with all your soul, and with all your mind.
38
This is the greatest and the first commandment.
39
The second is like it: 23 You shall love your neighbor as yourself.
40
24 The whole law and the prophets depend on these two commandments."

Rather than getting easier as time goes by, I am finding it more and more difficult and I don't know if it's because I've become more isolated by being at home or because I'm just getting more set in my ways and I have a reduced tolerance for bullshit. I don't know but I find myself increasingly challenged to live up these ideals.

And lately there is one person in particular who is challenging me in ways I never imagined I'd be challenged.

There is a new woman who joined my MOMS Club; I've actually mentioned her before. We had a disagreement about using pacifiers before we ever met in person. Once we met, I found out we went to the same tiny liberal arts, women's college. Our sons are roughly the same age. On paper, I should like her. And I've tried. I've really made an effort to bite my tongue and think positively. But I just can't stand this woman.

She's butch and physically unattractive to me and not by accident. I mean, her personal style choices are just bad. Okay. But that's not reason to dislike someone. Right? I think my perception there is just a manifestation of my dislike of her personality.

It seems that no matter what the topic we discuss in MOMS Club, she has an opinion. And I consider myself kind of left-wing and liberal and open-minded and open to alternative lifestyles and health choices. But this girl takes it to an extreme level in that she has to make an issue out of everything.

I kind of see this as an age-old problem with certain individuals on the fringe. Just as there is a group of right-wing nutjobs out there who want everyone to live the way they do, there is an equally annoying faction of liberal nutters who want everyone to live in grass shacks and use outhouses.

Okay. That last bit is an exaggeration. My point is that everyone needs to be free to live as he or she chooses and not have someone else telling them that the choices they are making are wrong.

If Miss Girl wants to use a neti pot to clear her sinuses, that's just ducky. But if I want to use store bought saline solution for myself or my kids, I don't need her writing a five-page essay on how I'm destroying my nasal cavity AND the Earth because it comes in a plastic bottle.

I don't tell her that she needs to lose approximately 50 lbs to be be healthy. Can she just shut up about whether or not the produce co-op we were invited to join is organic or not? Can you really be that obsessed with your health and be that fat?

See? This is what I'm talking about. I get mean. I don't want to think these things. I want to look at her with compassion and love. And I'm not doing that.

I feel like these honest, human emotions and thoughts are bad. I know that it's wrong of me to think this way. But every interaction with this girl just pushes my buttons. And challenges my beliefs.

I guess people like this are put into our lives to help us stretch and grow and reach for our personal best. It's easy to love the people who are like us and it is harder to love our enemies.

How do I get beyond these feelings of distaste, annoyance, and anger?

Let It Snow!

On Saturday, we got the first real snow we've had. The snow earlier in the week just left a light dusting that was melted away overnight by the rain that fell. However, Saturday's snow dropped a few inches, which is quite a lot to us Atlantans. We had a ball playing in it. I loved seeing Brendan enjoying this new experience and Scott and I really enjoyed playing in the snow, too.

We just went out to play with Brendan, but before we knew it, we had half the kids in the neighborhood in our yard having a snowball fight. It was awesome. I loved it! I love that the kids in our neighborhood are comfortable enough with us and each other to do that. Brendan, who is a little shy, kind of clung to the edges of the group and would only throw snowballs at me and his dad, but I think he enjoyed being a part of the fun. I don't know that it was like this for him, but for me, it was kind of like watching a movie. When I was a kid, I wasn't allowed to play in the snow because my mom thought I'd get sick. And guess what? Brendan did get sick and now I'm sick, but it was worth it to see him having such a wonderful time and to interact with our neighborhood kids in that way.

I hope it snows again before winter is over and we can do it again. Much of the snow melted before we got a chance to go back out and by Sunday most of it was gone. We never had a chance to build a snowman and I was pretty disappointed about that. Especially after seeing some of the creative and hilarious examples dotting the neighborhood.

If you're curious, you can check out some of our other photos at Flickr.

Sick Bed of Dawnulainn

What is up with all the sickness?

I have gone from being one of the healthiest people I know with the healthiest kid to someone in our house being sick constantly. I guess it started roughly a year ago. Almost exactly a year ago when a plague descended upon our house. Exhaustion from having a newborn and post-partum depression had taken their toll and I ended up with a sinus infection that spread to my eyes, the flu, and an outbreak of fever blisters. I remember the timing of it because it was the week before Brendan's birthday party and I was so worried we would have to cancel the party because I was so sick. Brendan's party is next week. Thankfully this year it's very low key. I'm not worried that I have to prove to him that we still love him even though he has a new sibling.

So, I'm just going to try and rest as much as I can the next few days and accept that the basement playroom will not be ready before the party and deal with it.

Scott is out at CVS right now getting me some Theraflu and then is going to stop at the Thai place to get me some super-spicy curry. Hopefully, that combination opens my sinuses up and we can move forward from there.

And hopefully Brendan's cough improves. I've been up with him the last three nights and think I caught this last night when he coughed so hard he threw up on me. At least I felt fine until sometime around 10 a.m. today when it all started going downhill fast.

So, on that note...Goodnight y'all. My food and Theraflu just arrived.

Taking Care of Business

I am loving my BusyBodyBook! It is proving to be a great system for me. I can see all of our calendars at a glance and it's ideal for me to keep up with my to-do list. I prefer jotting things down by hand to doing it on-line. So, even though I've used Ta-Da Lists with some success, this suits my personality better. And I love the pocket at the front of the book. This morning when I went out to run errands, I just stuck the things I had to mail, a check and deposit slip, and stamps right in there, so everything I needed for errands was neat and tidy and in one place instead of at the bottom of the diaper bag.

I just received an e-mail from Joan at About Your Time, makers of the BusyBodyBook. There's a great sale going on now until Groundhog's Day! Take a minute and check it out. This would make an excellent gift for the messy, unorganized person in your life.


20% OFF
In Honor

of

Punxsutawney Phil !
According to legend, if Punxsutawney Phil sees his shadow, there will be six more weeks of winter weather.

It's FREEEZZZING here today. I'm so desperately hoping that Punxsutawney Phil is absolutely shadowLESS and to lure him out of his burrow now for an even earlier spring we're offering up a 20% discount on all of our BusyBodyBook products until the official Groundhog Day on Feb. 2.


Aug '07 - Sept '08 2008


The UNdated Fridge GRID Pad
Start planning for an early spring with BBB and save now when you enter discount code BBBSALE in the comment box at our checkout.

Wishing us all warmer weather!
Joan

About Your Time LLC
(973)761-6782

Everything Memes Nothing to Me

Merlot Mom just tagged me. I don't get tagged for memes very often (that's not an invitation to any of you wiseacres out there!). And since my sick-and-at-home big boy is otherwise occupied at the moment and playing nicely with baby brother, I have a minute to do this.

So, these are the rules: (1)Link to the person that tagged you. (2)Post the rules on your blog. (3)Share six non-important things/habits/quirks about yourself. (I apologize in advance!!!)(4)Tag six random people at the end of your post by linking to their blogs. (5)Let each random person know they have been tagged by leaving a comment on their website. Damn! That's a lot of work when you think about it. Ha! I'm kidding. It's fun!

WAIT! WE NOW INTERRUPT THIS BLOGCAST FOR A HURT TOE IN NEED OF A DORA BAND-AID! DETAILS AT 10:00!

...And now we join Belle Responds to a Meme, already in progress...

1. I always put my shoes and socks on sock/sock, shoe/shoe and I always start with my right foot. It feels weird to me to do it differently.

2. My very first dog's name was Dusty, hence my porn-star name would be Dusty Virginia if you follow the childhood pet/street name rule of name-making.

3. I have a strange affinity for the band Styx.

4. I worked hard to refine my Southern accent from a hick accent into one that sounded more proper. I did this after a friend made fun of me for saying yalla instead of yellow and thE-ATEr instead of theatre. My aspirational accent is Virginia Tidewater or Atlanta/Birmingham elite. Sadly, I can't remember the specific names for those accents. All that said, when I drink, my accent becomes more pronounced.

5. I love white and pink roses.

6. I sleep better when I'm touching someone I love. That includes my dog Cooper.

Okay. Tag you are it: Renn, Jen, http://thewonderkeepingthestarsapart.blogspot.com/, Jeremy, Mimi, and Melanie!

Death Letter

I can't say I was really a fan of Heath Ledger, but I found him likable enough and a good enough actor that I enjoyed him in movies.

For some reason, his death really made me sad today. I actually cried and I don't usually cry when famous people die. I think it's the idea of his little girl growing up without him. He seemed like a decent guy and a good dad. And it's always sad when someone dies so young and at the height of his or her career.

I made the mistake of going to a celebrity gossip site after hearing just a mention of his death on BBC America World News. I was mortified that the site had pictures of his body being removed from his building and a disgusting article about how much apartments rent for in his building. I am disgusted. I guess that's what I get. I just wondered how or why he died? I didn't need to know any other morbid details or know the square footage of the vacant apartment in his building and how much it rents for. In other words, I didn't need them to revel in the death of a successful person so some mediocre columnist at a third-rate gossip site could make himself feel better.

More and more, I find myself disgusted with this culture of celebrity gossip, the cult of personality. Is it any wonder poor Britney Spears can't keep it together? God bless her, but I know she had no idea what it is like to be a mother and all the responsibility it entails. It doesn't sound as though her mother did a very good job mothering her or her sister. And then every mistake the poor girl makes is blown out of proportion and put in neon lights for all the world to see.

I can attest to the fact that once you start doubting your parenting skills and making mistakes, if you don't believe in yourself it can all go to hell really fast. And there's no way that poor girl could believe in herself with the entire world judging her.

Again, I'm no fan of her as a singer or entertainer, but damn! I feel for her and any other mother out there whose day to day life is examined and judged in the way that hers is.

All that said, Miss Girl needs to get it together and she clearly needs help doing so.

But I ask, who are the childless 20-something writers at the gossip magazines to judge? And who are we, really? I mean, we all make mistakes. Every one of us probably has some stupid thing we've done – as a parent, a friend, a wife, a lover, a member of society – that we wish we could undo. But it's not our place to judge others. As hard as that may be. Trust me. It's a particular weakness of mine that I've struggled to overcome and I fail often. But I don't want anyone judging me for all the stupid things I've done, do, and am likely to do again. So, I try to work on it.

My apologies for going off on a tangent there, but obviously these issues have struck a nerve for some reason. I guess I'm just feeling my mommy-ness right now and these two situations just strike me as very, very sad for all the children involved and I find it disgusting that the celebrity media don't seem to take those babies into consideration when they're writing disparaging things about the parents or showing heartbreaking photos. You'd think they were raised by wolves.

Hey, Grandpa! What's for Supper?

Scott Peacock's Chicken and Rice
Creamed Cabbage
Black-eyed Peas
Cornbread

Words

I just heard Mitt Romney, on CNN, describe the U.S. Constitution as a piece of paper with a lot of words on it.

I have no words...

Can't Complain

Every time I start complaining lately, I find myself feeling guilty and horrible. When I get angry because my kids are being too loud and I can't hear myself think and all I want is a moment of silence, I find myself thinking about how there are so many parents out there who would give anything to hear the shouts and screams of their little ones, but can't because they've died of some terrible disease. When I get irritated because I'm trying to do something and Brendan wants to talk and talk and talk about some cartoon or a toy or something I'm not all that interested in at the moment, I think about all the parents of autistic kids who are trapped in their minds and can't talk at all. Lately, my life is an endless cycle of guilt.

I think bad thoughts about someone, judge the person for how I think she has hurt me or someone else, and then I think well, I should put myself in her shoes. What would I do if our roles were reversed? It's constant for me.

Whatever negative feelings I have, I immediately feel guilty for feeling them and feel they are either unjustified or someone else, some better person, wouldn't be feeling the way I feel.

Ugh! When did I become this neurotic freak who just isn't able to simply BE?

Brendan told me yesterday – after I asked him to forgive me for getting frustrated with him for not listening to me for the nth time – that he forgave me and that he always forgives everybody. And when he said it, he meant it. And he was so filled with goodness and kindness...I was broken-hearted by how much I love this kid and I just wish I knew how to be the perfect mother for him and his brother. How to be the perfect wife for Scott. The perfect friend.

I guess I just feel like I fuck up over and over again, let the people I love down by not having the time or energy for them I know they really need. Not being who or what they need. I always feel like I'm spread so thin. Other women do it and do more. And certainly with far more grace and far less anger and guilt and fear. I just keep thinking if I can just find the right magic bean to figure out who it is I am meant to be I can make everyone, including myself, happy and loved, and I can be successful and have it all – happy marriage, happy kids, happy friendships, happy, successful career, money, wonderful experiences, health, energy. I guess I want what most everyone else wants.

Of course, my first thought as I write that is how selfish I am for wanting those things. That all I should really want is world peace, for the poor and hungry of the world to be taken care of, blah, blah, blah.

I guess I just need to accept that this is where I am now, this is what I feel, and I'm not the Devil for feeling what I feel or thinking what I think. I simply AM.

Poison Oak

Okay. This is totally freaky. I just kind of had the TV on for background noise while I was surfing here this morning. And all of a sudden I look up and see the church I grew up in on TV. With the Oak Ridge Boys standing on the altar singing. Right behind them is the baptismal font where I was baptised when I was 16. The choir loft where I used to sing on Sunday nights. The balcony where I sat with my girlfriends, slipping each other notes. It's just a little weird and unexpected. Especially since the town I grew up in is tiny...only about 20,000 people. It is a suburb of Nashville, only about 30 miles away. But it's just kind of weird and unexpected and it makes me a little homesick and nostalgic.

Midnight Train to Georgia

Happy Friday, y'all.

I'm having a bit of a rough day emotionally, so I don't feel like writing much, but I wanted to share something cool with my Georgia readers that I just learned about.

It's the Georgia Blog Carnival, happening today over at Georgia Politics Unfiltered. Check it out for some links to some fascinating Georgia-centric blogs. And for a more complete, in-depth list of many, many cool Georgia-based blogs, check out the Georgia Blogroll over at Georgia On My Mind, a really cool site run by an elementary history teacher that features Georgia history, Georgia blogs, and Georgia goings-on. I just discovered it recently and love it.

Winter Wonderland

It's snowing! Whoooo-hooooo! Yay!

I'm so excited! I hope it sticks!

Listen to the Lion

So, I've been meaning to write about this and present this particular post for several days now. However, I needed to give this quite a bit of thought before I began writing.

You see, Rennratt gave me an award. It's the Roar for Powerful Words award, given writer to writer. And I am tickled pink as you can imagine. It's always a good feeling to know that someone likes and appreciates what you're doing. Especially when it's someone whose writing and talent you admire.

The award originated with a quite talented writer/journalist named Seamus Kearney and his writers' collective, Shameless Lions.


So, here's how it works, more or less:

"How does it work? Below are copies of the award that we can each distribute to those people who have blogs we love, can't live without, where we think the writing is good and powerful. I thought interested members could kick things off by publishing the award on their own blog, naming five people they would like to give it to (members or non-members), and accompany the image with three things they believe are necessary to make writing good and powerful. The recipients then do the same, passing it on to five other people, and so on."

Which five fellow bloggers do I admire? Who has the blogs I can't live without? Who writes well and powerfully? All good and interesting questions and ones I can't answer without acknowledging the fact that I probably shouldn't award the person who awarded me or anyone to whom she gave the award. So, that narrows my field by at least two. I just nominated a new favorite for a Perfect Post. So, with all that in consideration, here are some of my current favorites, though they are in no particular order (and if yours isn't here, that doesn't mean I don't adore you and your writing). I'm just being forced to choose.

Dancing On the Jetty:
I know Jeremy in real life and he's a good friend. One of the best, most salt-of-the-earth folks you will ever meet. When I worked as a copywriter, Jeremy was my proofreader. As long as I have known him, he has been a straight-shooter, but sincere and compassionate. His writing reflects those qualities. He has an infinite knowledge of music and film that seems to span every genre. He knows a ton about sports, especially baseball. He's more socially and politically-aware than your average bear and whenever I read his blog, I learn something.

Letters About Eve:
Letters About Eve chronicles the life of Jen, her husband Ben, and their beautiful daughter Evelyn. It's a private blog, so you probably can't access it, but I still want to acknowledge how much I love reading about Jen, Evie, and their adventures. Jen's husband Ben is in the Army and just came home after being deployed. They live on a farm with Jen's parents and reading about her wonderful family – Grammy and Grampers, Big Bro and Doc Rom, Uncle Stan – as well as the goats and other farm animals, Jen's work with an autistic kid, and soon her experiences in graduate school give me a peek into a life I will never experience. Her writing is so crystal clear and succinct. It reflects her joy of life without being cloying or sentimental. In essence, I think her clear, descriptive writing and the things Jen chooses to write about are illustrative of the true essence of the world family. Letters About Eve has become a blog I look forward to the way I look forward to a sunny day after a week of rain.

The Wonder Keeping the Stars Apart:
If I just stumbled onto this blog, I'd be compelled to read it, simply for the beauty of its title, which comes from this e.e. cummings poem. Again, I must admit that this blog's author, Suzanne, is a real world friend. We have a long and complicated history and she is someone that I genuinely love. Her writing is bright, witty, refreshing, and runs the gamut from her beloved Charleston, her brilliant legal career and her romance with Sweetie to national and international politics. It's like Sex in the City meets Face the Nation. But in her writing, you see her humanity...pain, joy, strength, vulnerability. Her writing is intelligent, often witty, and always cuts to the heart of the matter.

Suburban Turmoil:
Lindsay Ferrier is an excellent story teller. She has a natural gift for dialogue and a keen sense of the ridiculous in this world. I often find myself disagreeing or thinking that she's overly judgmental and harsh. Sometimes, she even comes across as mean-spirited. We're worlds apart on the topic of smocked clothes for boys. But still...I always come back for more. I think the ability to write funny, as it were is rare indeed. I would give my eye teeth to be able to tell a funny story. Sadly, I just don't got it! Lindsay does, though. The only blog that provides me with more laughs on a routine basis is Rennratt's. If you've never read it, you should definitely check it out.

A., Woman of Independent Means:
A. writes about as honestly and as much from the heart as any blogger out there. Her blog covers topics from raising her two children and life as the wife of a minister to her own career as a minister and the life she has put on hold in many ways to be there for her kids. She writes about the world at large and the world in her own home with care, passion, intelligence, and above all, honesty. She, like Jeremy, is a straight-shooter, but she is never snide, cynical, mean, judgmental or any of the other qualities that I find so distasteful about many bloggers. In fact, I tend to find A.'s writing inspiring and uplifting without being overly sentimental. Even in posts that express anger or dissatisfaction, I find comfort because I finally feel that someone else understands the maddening thoughts of my inner life.

Who Do You Love?

I found this little quiz over on James' blog, Right Face, and thought I'd take the test to see where I stand. I honestly think of myself as being very middle of the road, although I have considered myself a Hillary supporter since she was First Lady. Initially, I was a bit shocked by the results of the quiz, but when I thought about it, I realized it makes perfect sense. Ms. Clinton is not the raging liberal the Right makes her out to be. And as much as I want to like Obama there's just something there that makes feel I can't trust him. And don't get me started on Edwards. Lord. He makes my skin crawl and beside him, Bill Clinton looks like a Boy Scout to me. Edwards I totally do not trust. He's too smiley and his aww-shucks, cornponiness just rubs me the wrong way.

I do like John McCain and was surprised to see I don't line up more with his beliefs. I tend to be a bit hawkish on military issues, but I knew we didn't line up on Iraq (I say clean up our mess as much and as quickly as we can, then get out.), but still I thought I'd be a closer match.

So, there you go. Take the test and see where you fall.

85% Hillary Clinton
85% Chris Dodd
85% Barack Obama
83% John Edwards
75% Bill Richardson
70% Joe Biden
68% Dennis Kucinich
66% Mike Gravel
61% Rudy Giuliani
51% John McCain
42% Mike Huckabee
41% Mitt Romney
35% Tom Tancredo
29% Fred Thompson
26% Ron Paul

2008 Presidential Candidate Matching Quiz

It's Not Safe

Meredith Emerson's murder and the possible other murders committed by this monster, Gary Michael Hilton, have really shaken me. I guess it's the idea that a serial killer was walking around within a few miles of my home, sometimes living in a park I've taken my children to, and mutilating and disposing of bodies in an area I used to go hiking in when I was the same age as the girl he murdered. It's really put me on edge and made me realize that I need to become more aware of my surroundings.

Last year there was a mugger or armed robber who targeted moms with small kids who would have to be put into car seats. He would wait in the parking lot until he saw the women putting the kids in the car and then approach them from behind, put a gun to the back of their heads and rob them, threatening to either kill them or their kids. Again, in the area where we live. He robbed one woman in the Whole Foods parking lot at the store I used to frequent once a week. Oh, yeah. He did this in broad daylight. He was eventually caught and arrested, but that made me start paying more attention to who was around when I had the kids with me.

But this just brings the issue of safety to the forefront of my mind again.

This article appeared in the AJC today and has some good tips. There is also information at the end of the article about free self-defense classes for women which are being sponsored by local radio station Q100.

The only bit of advice I have to add to the tips offered by the article is something a former cop told me once. He said never let an attacker get you in the car. If someone tries to carjack you, or push you into a car (yours or theirs) let them kill you on the spot before you get in the car. He said either way, you'll end up dead, but at least if they kill you on the spot your family will have you to bury and maybe someone will see or hear it happen.He said that very few people who get abducted are ever found at all. I always have that in my mind as horrible as it is. And I don't even know if it's true, but it sure sounds plausible.

Learning to Fly

The moral of today's story, folks, is don't get too big for your britches. I was so pleased with myself last night for cleaning my kitchen and shining my sink as the FlyLady recommends. I had Brendan's lunch packed and his breakfast all laid out and ready to go. His backpack was packed and ready. I was so full of my newfound excitement over being organized that I decided to get my automatic coffeemaker all set up and ready to make my coffee and have it waiting for me when I awoke. I was thinking, Wow, I am off to one excellent start on this efficiency thing! Look at me!

So, where did I go wrong? I know that's what you're asking yourself. Right?

In my being so pleased with myself, I managed to forget to put water in the coffeemaker. So, when I awoke, I got to have the wind taken out of my sails a little. Still, I had a pretty good start to the morning. Because I had most everything done that needed to be done before Brendan gets up for school, I had time for prayer and meditation and to blog a little.

It's going to be a great day!

Oh Mercy

If anyone came in my house at the moment, I'm really not sure what they'd think. I'm not sure what I think...

I'm halfway through taking down our interior decorations, but there are boxes, rolls of wrapping paper, and used gift bags all over the foyer. In my living room where I am right now, Brendan is pumping a tire pump pretending to put air in my exercise ball while Beckett walks around him in a circle repeatedly while holding a plastic Peter Rabbit bowl. Going by the quizzical look on his face, Beckett seems to be trying to figure out what the heck his brother is doing.

Me? I just finished taking down the outdoor decorations, cleaning and repairing the gutter on the front of the house, and placing all the exterior decorations in their proper places (wreaths hung on hooks in the garage; lights, garland, and hangers in a plastic bin, labeled and in the attic.). I also put all my fall decorations (a witch, some berry garland, and some autumnal wreaths) in their own bin and put that in the attic as well.

Before this unusual sibling ritual began, I thought I'd take a break and check my e-mail, then get right back to work. But this was too funny and bizarre not to mention.

Now that they've performed their dance of brotherly fascination, Brendan has decided to start taking his favorite decorations of the tree and this has caught baby brother's attention, too. I think it's time to intervene....

Dog

Hey, my animal-loving friends. Here's your chance to do a kind deed for an animal today. A friend who volunteers at Atlanta Pet Rescue, a no-kill shelter, sent me the following information. If you would be so kind as to participate, I know I would appreciate it, as would all the sweet, adorable dogs and cats waiting at APR until they find loving families.

Thanks!

Circuit City is holding a contest for the next Firedog, the mascot of their customer support service. For every vote each dog receives, the animal shelter of that dog's owner's choosing will receive $1. The shelter of the winning dog will receive $50,000.

Please vote for Toby. Toby's shelter is the Atlanta Pet Rescue, a nonprofit, volunteer-based, no-kill animal shelter that could really use 50 grand.

To vote for Toby:

Go to firedog.com
enter your email address and click Submit
check your email for the confirmation link
Click the link
That's it. If you really want to help, use every email address you have. But remember, you have to click the link in the confirmation email for your vote to be submitted. And if you want to help some more, forward this email to everyone you know.

Something to Look Forward To

Okay. So I've done most of the items on the Messies Flight Plan for Fledglings. I haven't eaten yet, but I've knocked out the other basics on the list. I'm about to get up and start laundry and then make breakfast for myself and the boys.

I've also discovered another tool that I'll be using in my fight against chaos. It's the BusyBodyBook Personal and Family Organizer. It's designed by a mom – Joan Goldner – for other moms. I spoke with Joan via e-mail and she's sending me one to try out and report back on. In the meantime, I have downloaded January's weekly grids (the book offers much more than just a calendar system, but I'll save those details until I have the book in hand). I am going to use those to plan my week and hopefully, like that, become instantly more efficient just by having a written compilation of all I want and need to accomplish.

Happy House

For too long I have been unorganized and stressed out. My goal for the new year is to undo old habits of procrastination and indecision and get myself, my home, and my life organized and functioning smoothly.

I'm looking at using the Messies Anonymous six-week plan. I've already actually done a few of the things suggested (I cleaned and organized my pantry today; last week I cleaned and organized Brendan's closet and added storage in his room.) and am planning to start my new way of life by creating and sticking to daily schedules.

It's really scary for me to think about trying to make a major life change like this. I am chronically disorganized. I know, however, how much easier life would be if I could change. And I really want to change. I need to change before one of my children gets lost in my house.

Wish me luck.

And if you have any tips on time management, household scheduling, sticking to routines, or just getting things done, please feel free to pass them along.

I Can't Get My Head Around It

I want to be a good Catholic and leave all judgment up to God, to believe in my heart that the death penalty is wrong. But then, I hear a story like this one, about a girl just going about her life, doing something she loved, and not bothering anyone, who gets murdered by some low-life creep and it all goes out the window.

I don't know why this story hits so close to home with me. I guess it's a case of there but for the grace of God... I was never an avid hiker, but when I was this girl's age, I certainly went hiking alone, without even a dog, on portions of the Appalachian Trail and had fantasies of hiking the whole thing some day. I never gave a second thought to the safety of it. I never told anyone where I'd be either. I just went and got a room at a state park lodge and went hiking, just to be alone in nature and clear my head. It never occurred to me that some random creep could be out there on the trails, waiting to murder someone. And I'm sure it never occurred to Meredith either. Why would it? Why would any of us think there's another human out there wishing to do us harm? We shouldn't have to think that way.

Of course, I think our society might be more violent now than it was 12 or 13 years ago with less respect for life or other people generally. I often think we're in our decline as a culture and society, but then I start freaking out and can't let myself go there. I worry too much about what this world will be like when my children are grown. It's just too overwhelming sometimes.

I feel awful for Meredith's poor family. And I just can't get my head around why this creep would have to murder her. But in my heart I can't make myself find any reason why he should get to live – even in prison – when he so readily took this poor girl's life.

Made from Dirt

I mentioned a few weeks ago that I was working on a couple of crafty projects to give as gifts. Now that the recipient (my best friend, Courtney) has received them, I thought I'd share them here.

The first is a wall hanging with Courtney's initial. I used colors that remind me of her and that I know she has in her decor already. The second piece is a simple Christmas ornament, also with her initials (all three this time). We always exchange ornaments at Christmas and for some reason when I saw these letters, which are actually magnets, the idea just came to me.

I'm not generally a very artistic or crafty person, but every now and then I'm inspired.

Artistiya

If you're a parent in the ATL looking for something fun to do with your toddler or a cool class for your preschooler-or-older kiddo, check out Two Crafty Chicks, a neighborhood art studio for wee ones. Actually, not just the wee ones, but the angsty teenage ones as well. TCC offer classes and activities, including on-site birthday parties for kids ages 2 to Teen and even have "Moms' Night Out" sessions. The preschool-and-up classes are two-hour drop-off sessions that cost $15. That's cheaper than any babysitter and you know your kid is doing something fun and creative while you're getting your errands taken care of. Quietly. And you may just end up with a cool new picture frame out of the deal. Cool.

Home for the Holidays: December's Perfect Post

In my mind, I've always created visions of how I want things to be or ideals of situations. Essentially daydreams of how I wish life could be, I guess.

For me, the perfect Christmas is all about being with family – not some rushed and hurried let's-get-to-the-presents dash through dinner, open the presents, and everyone go their separate ways, but rather two or three days spent together, cooking, sharing stories in a warm kitchen over coffee. Nights cuddled in front of a fireplace singing along to carols and laughing at memories of Christmases past. Quiet, intimate moments with the person I love most in the world that turn into treasured memories.

A few days ago, I stumbled onto Mimi on the Breach, another Mommy Blog and I read this post. Mimi describes beautiful, shining moments from her Christmas with her family – moments with her husband and daughter, with her husband's parents. She talks about cooking and listening to carols, and the picture she paints is so warm and bright and beautiful that as I read, I found myself transported. It was as if I were there in the kitchen with her and her husband. I could feel the warmth off the oven and smell the sage and rosemary. And I could feel the love and joy she was experiencing. I was moved to tears of joy for this complete stranger and intensely impressed by her ability to describe her experience in such vivid detail.

Mimi on the Breach wins my vote for December's Perfect Post with her post, Christmas Goodies. Beautiful, heartfelt writing.

You can check out the entire list of Perfect Post winners either at Suburban Turmoil or Petroville.

Auld Lang Syne

2007 was a long, exciting, difficult, heart-bending, challenging, dark, and beautiful year. I'm thankful I survived it and thankful I experienced it. And I'm looking forward with great hope to 2008.

If you were here and listened to me as I poured my heart out to the blogosphere, thank you. Thank you to A. and Renn and Jeremy and Rich and Suz and all of y'all who offered encouragement when I thought I was going to be pulled under the dark waters of ppd. Naturally, I couldn't have done it without the compassion of Scott and the friends who dwell here with me in 3-D land. But I also couldn't have thrived the way I think I have without the heartfelt support of those of you whom I only know through our blogs and our crazy desire to throw it all up and out for the world to feel. Just knowing y'all were out there reading somehow made me keep writing and that somehow made me keep going and gaining hope each day that the darkness would lift. And one day, it did. And y'all were (mostly) all still here. Thanks.

I look forward to hearing what you're all up to in the New Year.

I hope we all experience the richness of God's blessings this year.

With love and hope...Happy New Year.

It's Christmastime!

Merry Christmas, y'all!

I hope everyone is having a splendid, joy-filled day.

Santa was very good to everyone in our house. I've been so busy watching Brendan play with the Planet Heroes space shuttle and building things with modeling clay, that I haven't had a chance to play with my gifts yet.

I also have put a roast on. Since it turns out that it's just us today – we ended up having our big family Christmas in Montgomery instead of our house because my brother-in-law was on call – I'm using the Paula Deen recipe for a small roast instead of a tenderloin. We'll have mashed potatoes and green beans, too. I need to figure out a good, easy dessert that doesn't require milk since we're almost out and I don't want to try to find an open store. I'm also making some homemade bread. It's rising right now. I haven't made bread in years, so I hope it turns out okay.

So far it's a good day. I feel bad that I wasn't able to get the gift I wanted to for Scott. I wanted to give him a Wii, but as they are sold out everywhere, I simple gave him a gift certificate to go buy one when they're in. I feel bad for him that he didn't get a great gift to open today.

Otherwise, the day is really great. Brendan seems so happy and thankful for all he received and told us he was sad that Beckett didn't get anything in his stocking. Of course, Beckett prefers pulling all the sippy cups out of the drawer in the kitchen to any of his toys.

Go figure. I thought about not getting him anything, but it just felt weird.

Anyway, hope you all have a beautiful Christmas day!

Christmas in Killarney

Christmas in Killarney is probably my favorite Christmas song. I just love it. It makes me happy right down to my toes. As we've been listening to all the Christmas songs on my iPod the last couple of weeks, two have popped up as Brendan's favorites and I'm happy to say my little Irish laddie has his mama's taste in Christmas songs.

He has repeatedly asked me to play Christmas in Killarney. I have two versions, Bing Crosby's and one by the Irish Rovers. The latter is my favorite, although I will alway's have a soft spot for Bing Crosby and his version. As it turns out the Rovers version is proving to be Brendan's favorite as well.

The other song that he likes is Snoopy and the Red Baron, both the Christmas version and the original version.

That was one of my favorites and I had the single when I was around his age. Ah! Record players. Anyway, it makes me happy to share these things with him and have him react the same way I did once upon a time. I guess this is part of what Christmas is all about...sharing our traditions and making new ones.

I feel really blessed to have these two wonderful boys and their sweet daddy to be making traditions with. It's so cool to see the wonder and joy in their little faces each time they experience some new aspect of Christmas.

No One Dies Harder Than John McClain

Except, perhaps, Elmo.

I bought Beckett a small, stuffed Elmo who giggles and talks when you shake him. Today, as I was driving around, I hear Yippee-Ki-Yay! Hahahahaha! from the cargo area. Naturally, all I could think of was the famous John McClain line from Die Hard.

And then, of course, I heard the line in Elmo's voice. And now, I can't stop hearing it.

You're With Stupid Now

As I prepare to write this post, I know that what I'm going to say is going to sound judgmental and elitist and that there will be people who read it and think what an awful person I am. But really, I just have to cuss on the mic tonight. What is wrong with people?

There is a local web site run by one of the local tv stations and the mega-conglomerate-parent company which I think is probably Gannett, but I'm too lazy to check right now. Anyway, it's called peachymoms.com, ya know, because we live in the Peach State and all. So, when I first heard the commercials I thought it would be a cool site with lots of local info on activities and discussions about local happenings as they relate to parenting, etc. In other words, I thought I'd find other women like myself or at least relatively like myself.

Now, don't get me wrong. I realize that parenting isn't the exclusive territory of white, married, thirty-something, college educated, suburban-dwelling, neurotic, hetero women like myself. And I'm not saying that to be facetious.

I have been amazed, however, when reading this site to realize that this particular web site and accompanying message boards are primarily dominated by lots and lots of single women who chose to get pregnant and keep their babies and by keep, I don't mean abortion, although I certainly don't judge anyone for that choice. I mean adoption. In fact, I got slammed for suggesting a woman put her baby up for adoption after she expressed concern that she was 6 months pregnant and not feeling any maternal instinct and her biggest concern was that she wouldn't be able to continue partying after she had the baby. I simply suggested that if she wasn't 100% ready to commit herself to her child that both of them would fare better if she put the baby up for adoption. You would have thought I said she should leave the baby down by the river in a burlap sack.

Then, today, I saw this post and I just felt sick to my stomach. How on earth could anyone be thinking this way? When I was 17 all I could think about was which college I was going to and what it was going to be like to be the D.A. in Nashville some day. Kids were the furthest thing from my mind.

It makes me sad that there are kids out there who think like this, but it makes me sadder that even the people who are trying to talk some sense into her do it in such a wussy way. No one has the guts to stand up to kids and tell them to stop screwing around. They act like children have some God-given right to have sex and that if we tell them not to then we're all horrible Bible-thumping fundamentalists.

I'm not a prude. But, I think it is the rare, very rare, teenager who has the sense to have sex in a smart and responsible way. Even if we give them birth control. Can a 17-year old really remember to take her pill every day? Or insert her diaphragm correctly? And if girls are responsible for the birth control, what happens to condoms (which break and boys hate wearing and will try to talk their girlfriends out of) and the risk of STDs?

I just wish that someone could tell these idiotic little girls the truth without all the baby-mamas out there rushing to beat them up. It's just devastatingly sad to me when I look around and see the dolts that are going to be running this country some day and putting an even greater strain on the system with all their unplanned, unwanted children.

And I feel worse for those kids who are just going to propagate the same failings when it's their turn. Or maybe not. Maybe our country will get on an upswing where all kids realize their potential and don't do stupid things to ruin their lives. We can hope.

El Manana

Driving home from a little Christmas shopping on Sunday, I was listening to a program on NPR. I tend not to think a lot about listening to news shows in front of my kids. I grew up watching the news. Walter Cronkite and John Chancellor were my first heroes. I knew more about world politics and current events when I was four than most adults do now. As a result, I've always been a news junkie and that has only lessened since I've had children and don't enjoy the luxury of watching news programs obsessively, reading several newspapers and magazines each day, and talking politics and/or current events with everyone I know. Since I don't often get to watch the news at home, I listen in the car whenever I can.

Anyway, I'm driving along with Brendan in the backseat, listening to All Things Considered and they're talking about Ingrid Betancourt, a hostage held by Marxist geurillas in Colombia since 2002. The first thing Brendan hears is guerillas, only to him it's gorillas. Now, it is important to note at this point that Brendan mispronounces gorilla so that it comes out as badrilla.Badrillas!, he exclaims. Badrillas kidnap humans! AAAAAHHHHHHH!

I control my laughter so I can actually hear the rest of the story and we continue on. A little way into the story, the reporter says that in a letter to her mother, Bettancourt said that the only people in the camp where she is being held beside herself are the male guerillas. The next thing I hear is What?! The mail man is a badrilla! I knew it!

I laughed so hard I a had to pull over for a second. I was just imagining a gorilla putting on a human mail carrier costume and stealthily sneaking around delivering mail, ripping open certain packages.

In other cuteness, Brendan told his dad the other day that all smart kids wear glasses which oddly coincides with his affection for Simon the Chipmunk and Brainy Smurf, although, he told me today that Smurfette is actually his favorite.

Beckett, too, is doing his best to be the cutest baby ever. He's walking and actually trying to run in order to keep up with big brother. He has five teeth now and loves to bite me wherever he can. Shoulder. Thigh. A couple of nights ago while I was kneeling on the floor looking for some shoes under the bed, he came up behind me and bit me on the bottom. Of course, when I jump and say No biting! he bursts into tears. He's also gotten very clingy and is in the separation anxiety phase. But he's just so cute. My goodness. He said bye-bye for the first time yesterday and is trying to say his own name, I think, and our Cooper's name, too, it sounds like.

It's all so sweet and I'm glad. Especially since I'm a little under the weather. It makes it all easier when they're being cute.

Good Times Bad Times

It seems like the last few days have been a right strange mixture of the good and bad.

First, on Friday evening we went to a Christmas/Hannukah party at our friends' Scott and Lauren's. It was a family party and we brought both our boys. There were a ton of kids and we all had a good time. Sadly, though, right before we left we got a call from our friend Chris telling us that his dog Sam had died. Chris and his wife Laura and their two girls are our closest friends in the neighborhood. The first ones we got to know, with two girls – one just older and one just younger than Brendan. They're really wonderful people that I have grown to care for deeply and Sam was our dog Cooper's best friend. Cooper and Sam had known each other for six years and like our other kids, were very close in age. Back when we each only had one child and for a while after Laura had two, we would take the two dogs for walks together almost every day.

Sam was a great dog. Just a force of nature, really. And Cooper loved him. He had what Scott and I dubbed the Sam Whine. Whenever Chris and Laura would walk Sam, if Cooper saw them, he would whine this high-pitched, excited whine. He didn't make it for any other dog. Not even his other neighborhood buddy, Champ. Anytime, he made that sound, we knew Sam was somewhere close by. And if we didn't see him walking down the street with his family, we knew it meant he was at our front door or in the yard. You see, anytime Sam would escape by sneaking through the gate of his family's backyard, he'd make a beeline for our house. And it worked in reverse, too. Cooper, upon escaping though a gate left open by little boys, heads straight for Sam's house. Fortunately, we're only four houses apart. But I can't number the times phone calls have been exchanged that went something like this:

Me: Hey, Laura. Have you seen Cooper?
Laura: Yeah. He's in our backyard playing with Sam. I was just getting ready to call you. He came up and stood on the porch, scratching at the door until I let him in.
Me: Awwww. Well, thanks for taking him in. I'll be up there in a few minutes to get him.
Laura: Oh, no problem. They're having fun. Just come whenever. No rush.

My favorite memory of Sam is actually from the very first time he came to our house unannounced. Cooper was whining and standing at the front door, stomping his big German shepherd feet, and going nuts. So, Scott opened the door and before you could say how do you do, Sam threw his 140-lb. self through the door and barreled through our house like a fur-covered tornado. He ran through every room in the house, scared the cat, drank all of Cooper's water and ate all his food, and just ran all over the house, sniffing everything, with Cooper following close behind. It was one of the funniest and most surprising things I've ever witnessed.

In other sad news, my best friend Courtney's grandmother passed away Sunday night. She had suffered a massive stroke on December 6, so her death was inevitable and ultimately a comfort for it means there will be no drawn out suffering. Courtney got to have a warm and loving goodbye with her Gran in a moment of lucidity and although she'll miss her, I think Courtney has a real sense of comfort and closure and knows that her Gran is now with her grandpa and the friends who went before her, so she's okay with it all. And that's actually a good place to be.

And back in happy news, Scott's set at the Krazy About Kats benefit went well and he was well-received. Pete,the comic who was on before Scott, suggested he play at one of the venues where he's a regular and got my contact information so we could follow up.

I guess that's about it. I actually have some hilarious Brendanisms to share and Beckett has added a few words to his repetoire, but I'll save all that for another post. Right now, Brendan wants to help me wrap his cousins' Christmas presents and keeps asking me what kind of Chia pet I want for Christmas. I think the answer I'm supposed to give is Scooby-Doo.

Mistletoe and Holly

Yesterday was the least stressful, busy day I have had in ages. Scott had a show last night and yesterday afternoon I took both boys Christmas shopping with me. I knocked out gifts for three of our six nieces and nephews. The thing is, for two of them, I bought books. I love giving and receiving books as gifts, but I'm not sure that when our nieces and nephews get them that they're not disappointed. Still, I am very excited about the books that I got for our 10-year old niece, Lauren, and her 8-year old brother, Corey. For her, I bought The Daring Book for Girls and for him,The Dangerous Book for Boys. They seem like such cool books with a lot of fun things for kids to do and learn. I hope they'll like them.

I was really surprised, though, that when I went shopping, it wasn't the madhouse I expected. Other than Brendan getting his finger mashed in the elevator door (he's fine, thankfully!), shopping was a lovely experience. Now, this week, I have to go this week to buy for our boys and our other three nieces and nephews. And Scott. And a couple of friends. I had bought a couple of things for Brendan's teacher and her aide, but then the room mom suggested that each family in the class contribute whatever amount we were comfortable with to buying Visa gift cards for them. We ended up with over $200, meaning that each teacher will get a gift card that she can spend anywhere, valued at over $100. I thought that was really cool. Most of the parents in the class would probably spend close to or more than $10 per teacher anyway. With 20 kids in the class, each family only had to contribute $10 to cover both teachers. Cool. I had bought some little gift sets when they were on sale this summer and was going to bake each of them my special Christmas cake that I do each year. (I'll try to post the recipe later. It is delicious!) As it turns out, one of the teachers is allergic to everything so those weren't going to be very good gifts anyway.

Hopefully, this week will go smoothly and I can get the rest of the shopping and wrapping and baking done. I can't believe it's all going by so fast!

Cat Scratch Fever

So, if you're in the ATL and you're not doing anything tonight and you love cats, maybe you should think about coming to this event. Scott's playing at this benefit to help raise money for this organization that helps feral and homeless cats. It's tonight, but you can buy a ticket at the door. All proceeds will go to Krazy About Kats to help build their new state-of-the-art veterinary and shelter facility.

Christmas in Dixie

We celebrate two Christmases with Scott's family...three if you count the fact that we have our own Christmas Day celebration that's just for us and the kids (our Santa celebration, I suppose). We always celebrate Christmas with his mom and brothers' families on Christmas Eve. And sometime, usually the weekend before Christmas, we celebrate with his dad and stepmom, also with the brothers and their families. Oh yeah...and then sometimes we have a Christmas Day visit and meal at his Aunt Gaynelle's house if we happen to be spending Christmas in Montgomery.

We rotate where the Christmas celebrations with mom and dad are, with each son and daughter-in-law taking a turn. Essentially, once every four years, it's your turn to host. Or something like that. Math has never been my strong suit. This is our year to host the mom Christmas Eve dinner/celebration. Actually, last year was our year, but because we had a two-week old baby, Scott's mom hosted at her house.

So, it's our turn. And this is what I'm planning to serve as the main course: Paula Deen's Soy Rubbed Beef Tenderloin. I'm a little turkey-ed out. The recipe follows and is from Paula Deen's Christmas cookbook:

Soy-Rubbed Tenderloin

Paula Deen
Serves 10 to 12

"This is really so simple. I buy a whole tenderloin when it goes on sale and have it cut in two. I fix one that night and freeze the other for a special occasion." - Paula

(I plan to try this easy recipe for Christmas dinner.)

INGREDIENTS

One 4- to 5-pound beef tenderloin

1/2 cup soy sauce

Freshly ground black pepper


DIRECTIONS:

Allow the beef to stand at room temperature for 1 hour. Preheat the oven to 425 degrees F. Place the tenderloin in a 13 by 9-inch glass baking dish and rub all over with the soy sauce. Rub the meat all over with a generous amount of black pepper.

Roast the tenderloin for 45 to 50 minutes, depending on the degree of doneness you prefer. (Using a meat thermometer, 125 degrees F is rare; 135 degrees F is medium rare; and 140 degrees F is medium.)

Remove from the oven and allow the meat to rest for 15 minutes before you slice it.

I'm excited. I look forward to figuring out what to serve with it. And what to suggest my sisters-in-law bring. Oh the desserts! That reminds me. If anyone has a recipe for Kentucky Jam Cake that you love, I'd love to see it. It's my favorite cake, but I've never made it.

Christmas is Coming

It must just be that time of year. I just saw a Publix commercial that made me cry. Then, a bit on the Dr. Phil show promoting a Christmas special that he's hosting with his wife and hearing Christmas music made me teary-eyed.

I also have found myself gettin' crafty. Brendan wanted us all to have new Christmas stockings with our names on them, so I went to Michael's today to buy the stuff to make stockings, but decided to just buy their pre-made felt stockings because they were cuter than anything I could make (and really...Do I have time to find a pattern, cut the felt, and sew 4 Christmas stockings? I didn't think so!). I bought some glitter paint/glue and put our names on them. I also bought some stuff to make a gift or two, but won't say what they are yet so as to not give it away in case the recipients are reading the blog. I'm not usually very good at this sort of thing, but I had such good ideas that I wanted to give it a try. I've completed one of the items and think it turned out really nice!

And it's fun to think that you can give someone something that's not just personal, but that you actually put a little of yourself into. I may make a few more things I hadn't planned on if the next thing I'm working on turns out okay.

I haven't done any major shopping. I've bought a gift certificate for my mother-in-law to have a facial or a massage and I bought some bathy-type stuff for her. She's allergic to a lot of scents, but likes lavender, so that's what I got for her. I've also bought a gift for a friend. Some stocking stuffers for Brendan. No big presents for him or Beckett yet. And what do I get for Scott? It's kind of hard when I'm not working enough to make any real money. I hate spending his money on him. I love being at home with my kids, but I hate not having my own money. It totally sucks. I think about the expensive and indulgent gifts I once was able to give him when I worked and feel worthless knowing I can't do that anymore. Oh well. Someday.

Daddy's Gone to Knoxville

There's a great column by Roland S. Martin over on CNN.com. I don't think he's necessarily breaking any new ground with his statement that dads matter, but I think it's important that he's actually saying it aloud to a national audience because I think too many people are afraid of offending others to be honest about things like this.

Martin's piece focuses solely on the role of fathers in the African-American community. He addresses the fact that 10.4 percent of black men between 25 and 29 were incarcerated in 2002. And while he does acknowledge the role of poverty, he points out that (duh) when there are two parents providing financial support as well as love and guidance, you alleviate the effects of poverty. I mean, this should be obvious, but our nation and culture seems to have such an aversion to holding people accountable and calling individuals to accept personal responsibility for their actions.

Why are we so afraid to call people out when they're acting a fool, as Martin says.

I've made no bones about the fact that I grew up without a dad and in poverty, but somehow, through the grace of God, I got it together, relatively speaking. I focused on school and getting into college. I got lucky.

Anyway, Martin got me thinking (shocking, I know!). It's just not enough for a dad to simply sleep in the same home (when he's not traveling on business), hand out indulgent allowances, and never establish or enforce any kind of discipline or show any real affection or interest in their children.

In Alpharetta, one of Atlanta's countless affluent northern suburbs, six young men, ages 16 to 18, were arrested for breaking into and stealing cars and other items. These brats broke into at least 100 cars since Thanksgiving and police believe they are actually responsible for many more thefts. These aren't kids living in poverty. But I could almost guarantee that they have parents who are so consumed with their own lives and interests that they never take the time to show any meaningful interest in their kids. The homes in North Fulton probably average $400,000. I would wager that almost all of these kids have dads who are so caught up in earning their $250K a year salaries and moms so consumed with their ALTA schedules and Botox regimens that they never even see their kids. Kids, mind you, who probably never wanted for a single material possession in their lives. These are kids who get brand new cars when they turn 16, never hit a lick at a snake, and expect the world to be handed to them on a silver platter.

The thing is, now that they've fucked up, Daddy – and his expensive attorney – will be there. Just in time to keep poor baby from going to jail. Too bad they weren't around to teach their children about showing a little respect to their fellow human beings when it mattered.

So, it's not just African-American kids who need their fathers, although clearly the differences are crucial, the paths the lives of poor urban kids will follow vastly different than those followed by a bunch of poor little rich kids.

At least Roland Martin is courageous enough and willing to call for accountability among African-American men; I just wish someone would do the same with their rich white counterparts.

Within You, Without You

Yesterday as we were leaving the chiropractor's office, Brendan exclaimed, This is the best day! I got to do all kinds of things I was expecting...go to Chik-fil-A, go to the doctor, then go to the park! Thanks, Mommy!"

Then, he very quickly followed that statement with, This is the funnest life ever!

I have mixed feelings about the idea of reincarnation, but I do believe children, especially the younger they are, are tuned in spiritually in ways that most adults are incapable of. We've lost the innocence or willingness to believe in the things we can't see or comprehend whereas kids just accept those things as they come.

It also made me really happy to think that if we are reincarnated and this is not Brendan's first life that I have somehow contributed to making it a really good one for his soul. I hope we can continue to do so.

Pictures of Me

I know I linked to the flickr stream, but I thought I'd just post a couple directly to the blog, too. We had a happy day that was followed by another fun day yesterday when we celebrated Christmas early with Scott's dad and stepmom up at Scott's brother's house. Again, the kids were all well-behaved and played well with one another. The food was tasty and it was a fun kickoff to the Christmas season which seems to be flying by this year.