Tucson Rodeo 2012

Every year hundreds of cowboys and cowgirls (over 600 this year) descend upon Tucson to show us what they got. With them comes thousands of fans from all over the country to cheer them on. The Tucson Rodeo is such a big deal here that the last Thursday and Friday in February is officially Rodeo Break and all school districts in Tucson shut down. In fact, last year at a school district meeting wherein we were discussing whether to lengthen the school year one woman suggested that we give up Rodeo Break. You could have heard a pin drop. It was like those movie scenes where the record scratches to a halt. People couldn't believe she just suggested that the beloved and sacred Rodeo Break be sacrificed. When I first started teaching in Phoenix (which doesn't recognize the Rodeo as an official holiday) I was shocked we didn't get Rodeo Break off. All my life, growing up in Tucson, I just assumed everyone got the Rodeo off. My co-workers found the concept of Rodeo Break to be hilarious and got years of mileage out of that one.

Anyway, I hadn't been since I was a kid so we thought we'd take the kids today for Opening Day (it runs all week). We had such an amazing and fantastic time. The kids loved seeing all the animals and competitions. Their favorite event was the steer wrestling. Our oldest daughter, the ultimate lover of animals, was very concerned about the well-being of the animals. She would stand up and shout, "Get the bull, cowboy, but please don't hurt him!" Our son declared it the best day ever and said he wants to be a rodeo cowboy when he grows up. Even our youngest, who is generally a holy terror everywhere we go, was mesmerized by the animals and was in her element being free to roam the rodeo grounds unrestrained. The people there are amazing. Friendly, welcoming, just really down to earth. There truly is not a more family friendly event anywhere.

Here are the kids right before we headed to the Rodeo grounds.

Our eldest daughter and myself, cowgirled-up.

Our youngest. I love this picture for a couple of reasons. First, the vest she is wearing is a vest my great-grandmother made for me when I was my daughter's age. It was part of an outfit. She would be thrilled to know that her great-great granddaughter wore this today. Secondly, when I was a kid my grandparents used to take me to see the cows that were down the road from their house. I would always go ask to see the "moo cows" and there are pictures of me around this age and a bit older standing at the fence like this or in my grandfather's arms looking at the cows. Watching my daughter today reminded me of this.

The vest.
Our kids are hard-core. They left the Rodeo all tatted up.

Your Christians Are Not Like Your Christ

My faith is important to me. It has shaped who I am and who my husband and I are raising our children to be. We are Christians and my husband and I were both raised in Christian homes, by Christian parents. Lately, though, I find myself thinking a lot about the quote by Ghandi where he stated, "I like your Christ. I don't like your Christians. They are so unlike your Christ."

While my faith is important to me and while there are convictions I have based on this faith, I also like to think of myself as a fairly decent, accepting person. I don't begrudge anyone their religion (or non-religion) or personal preferences. I tend to take the approach that while I believe this way and my life is a reflection of that, you also have the right to believe and live how you want. That being said, as a Christian, there is a certain "code" I live by and expect others who claim to be Christians to live by as well. Some of that includes helping those in need, working hard, and generally treating others how we would want to be treated. There is a verse in the Bible, in the book of Matthew, that states, "Truly, I tell you, whatever you did for one of the least of these brothers and sisters of mine, you did for me." I take that seriously and think that we as people, but especially as Christians, need to treat people better. All people. Not just those we like or those we agree with, but people we may not like, or people we may completely disagree with or even struggle to tolerate.

This past year has been very bumpy for us personally and professionally and the people who I would have expected to offer support didn't. (And by this "support" I am not referring to anything tangible. I'm referring to emotional support, checking in, etc. As a disclaimer, let me also publicly state that I am not referring to my family. They have been wonderful and amazing and things would be unbelievably worse were it not for their help). While this hasn't rocked my faith it has caused me to take a hard (and painful) look at the church to which we belong and those we considered our church family. While there was initial concern, after a few months we heard nothing from anybody there. Nobody checked in to see why we hadn't been to church in a while (serious health issues with our son and my husband's work schedule being the two primary reasons) except for a really snarky email from our pastor after missing a few weeks of services. I had made mention to the pastor early on that as a result of what we were going through we were feeling rather depressed. He never once followed up with either of us to see how we were doing. Outside of one man who was wonderful to my husband in the early months not a single other attempt at outreach was made.

While I have pretty thick skin this hurt a bit. The other part is that it made me wonder if this was really a church I wanted to be a part of. If other people are hurt or struggling or ill do I want to be associated with a church that is viewed as cold and callous? The irony in all of this is that this church (and many religions in general) criticize the government and always advocate for private charity, church help, etc. This argument presumes that the church is willing or able to help. It was very disappointing to me, after hearing all my life, how Christians are supposed to help others, care about others, treat others as we would treat Christ, etc, that the church put none of this into practice. It will be hard for me to sit through another sermon hearing about how we as Christians are supposed to behave and treat others when I have witnessed and experienced the hypocrisy first hand.

This is not an indictment of all Christians, of all churches, of all religions, or even of all people in the church I am referring to. My husband and i had attended a few services at another church a few weeks leading up to the start of our "year from hell" and when I opened my email I had offers from people to bring meals, offers from people to help watch my other kids while I was running all over town to doctor's appointments, offers for people to do my grocery shopping, etc. These offers came from women I had met briefly and in some instances never met. These are the types of people that epitomize my perception of Christians. These are women with a servant's heart looking to treat others as they would treat Christ.

I have been a member of my "brand" of Christianity all my life. Considering leaving is not something I take lightly. There have been incidents throughout the years that keep bringing me back to a place where I really feel I need to make the move and start over. This may have been the final straw that serves as the catalyst for that move.

I am interested to hear your thoughts. Have you left a church or religion altogether? If you are not religious how does my experience match up with your impression of Christians? If you are a Christian how would you handle this situation?

My Recent Days in Pictures

My husband accompanied our 5 year old daughter to her first Father-Daughter Dance at her school. She had a great time and according to my husband was the first one on the dance floor and she apparently danced her tail off the entire time their were there. Judging by some of the video he shot on his phone, she knows how to get down.The weather is warming up and so the kids have been spending quite a bit of time outside. Here they are swinging at my grandmother's house. While the swing is new the spot where the swing hangs is not. I took my first swing there in utero and grew up swinging on my grandma's porch. Glad that my kids get the opportunity to do that too.
Here in Tucson, the last Thursday and Friday in February we celebrate Rodeo Days. Kids get out of school and there is a literal rodeo in town. When I was a little kid my great-grandmother used to make me and my sister "Rodeo Outfits" that looked similar in nature to the outfit our youngest daughter has on below. When our oldest daughter was 7 months old she celebrated her first "Rodeo Days." I found this outfit at Ross and had to buy it because it reminded me of my great-grandmother's handmade outfits. I kept it and now daughter #2 gets to wear it also.
During one particularly festive Spirit Week there was a Hollywood Day. Since we didn't want to sent our Kindergartener off looking like a hooker ala Lyndsey Lohan or Miley Cyrus we decided to do classy, 50's movie star. She got quite into it and had the whole diva pose down.
I love this picture. It makes me happy just looking at it. Our son is an amazing big brother. He adores his baby sister and is great with her. He's a wonderful kid in general, but seeing him with his sister is amazing. He will make a fantastic father one day.
This picture cracks me up. She was previously sitting on my lap and smiling. When I handed her off she immediately began to scream and kept screaming. We have a sequence of about five photos in which she is in various stages of hysterics, all the while my husband and other daughter are smiling away.
Happy St. Patrick's Day from our house to yours!

Family Day in the Snow

Tucson has turned beautifully cold these past few days with highs in the 40's. It is rather uncharacteristic and so we have taken many opportunities to go outside and freeze our butts off. I guess when "cold" is a novelty it is more appreciated than when it is a regular part of life. I may not think it to be so awesome if I were living in it constantly.

Anyway, this morning my son and I were running some errands when he could see the snow on the mountains. He asked if we could go and see the snow. I figured, why not? We went home, grabbed my husband, and two daughters and hit the road. About 40 minutes later we were in a good 6-8 inches of snow and about 30 degree weather. It was amazing. We got the kiddos bundled up and sent them off. (There's my hunky husband and daughter throwing snowballs onto the car so we could drive back into town with snow on our hood).Our 5.5 year old daughter LOVED it. She was out there forever, running, jumping, sliding, falling in the snow; making snowballs and throwing them all over the place. She was red faced, cold, and happy. She'd fare well in my master plan to relocate our family to Boston at some point. :)

Our 3.5 year old son lasted about 20 minutes before he realized he was getting wet and then freaked out. He started crying hysterically about how his pants and gloves were wet and needed to be changed immediately. He then took off for the car in search of dry clothes. Guess he wouldn't last long in Bean Town.
Our almost 4 month old daughter spent most of her time with me in the car but I did take her out for a few minutes to commemorate the occasion with a photo. She has on two layers of clothing, a jacket, a blanket, an Elmer Fudd hat, a fleece hood, and then a jacket hood. That was a lot of work for about 5 minutes outside.
We stayed for an hour or so and then headed back to town for frozen yogurt...oh, the irony.

Domestic Disturbances

My husband and I don't argue a lot and when we do we make it a point to not do so in front of the kids. Today we had a bit of a verbal back and forth where voices were raised. The kids were in the backyard but had apparently come inside at some point and started hysterically crying upon hearing the argument. It broke my heart. They were scared and confused and clearly didn't like their mommy and daddy upset with each other.

It just made me think about kids who are raised in an environment where yelling, shouting, and fighting are the norm. I'm sure they get used to it to the point where it doesn't phase them or to the point where they no longer react, but that's sad in and of itself. No kid should ever have to get used to that.

The kids calmed down pretty quickly when I explained that mommy and daddy were just having a disagreement and that everything was fine, we all still loved each other. However, their response was enough to convince me that a home where fighting is the norm is no place for children. I've always been on the side of, "You don't get divorced, you work it out, especially if kids are involved." Today made me think though that if I were in a marriage that was constant fighting I'd do anything to protect my kids from that, including leave.

Do you make it a point to not argue in front of your child/children? How do your children handle spats between you and your spouse?

Escapades

My husband and I have a very complicated relationship with his family. This past week, however, we got a phone call from his mother informing us that his grandmother had been hospitalized and was not expected to make it. (I won't get into the fact that she had been in the hospital 10 days before they decided to let us know). So, as usual we put our differences aside, which really means we act like they haven't treated us horribly over the past seven years and do what we need to do. So, my husband called and spoke to his grandmother. She wasn't able to speak but at least he was able to say what he needed. This was after we were told that she was going to basically die right then and there.

A few days pass and we hear nothing, until today when I get an email from his mother letting us know that she is still alive. Which is good, assuming she's not in horrible pain which we wouldn't know since the information we've been given is limited and a bit cryptic. So, we are pretty much just waiting around to see what happens.

Here's the thing, though and this sounds awful, but anyone in our position would understand. We get a phone call at LEAST once a year from his mother telling us that someone has some fatal condition and has mere moments to live. Then inevitably we either a)hear nothing about it ever again or b)get notice that "a miracle" has occurred and the ill person is now completely cured, more than likely a result of his mother's claims of a direct line to God. Like last year we get a phone call from her telling us my husband's father has been diagnosed with prostate cancer and it didn't look good. She then calls my mom hysterical that her husband is dying of cancer and their wish is that we all reconcile, etc. My husband called his father right away who tells us that he doesn't have cancer but his PSA (?) levels were elevated and they wanted to run some more tests, which eventually revealed that he did not have cancer. When confronted, according to her he did have cancer, but God took it away.

So, with this history we are not sure what to believe or not. My husband's grandmother in her mid-eighties so death is certainly within the realm of not only possibility but likelihood. But during the course of our marriage his grandmother has been moments from death close to a dozen times. However, in case this time is for real, as usual, we treat it as if it were the truth. While my husband doesn't like to be caught up in the drama I think that if she is telling the truth and my husband didn't talk to his grandmother and she really did die he'd regret it. So, we tolerate the escapade. What else can we do?

Christmas Time

Our daughter on Christmas morning playing with her ballerina magnets.

Our son getting one of his presents from Santa from under the tree.

My husband getting our son's shoes on the Sunday before Christmas.

Our Christmas was fantastic. We attended church services Christmas Eve. My parents, grandmother, brother, and his girlfriend joined our family at our church. Afterwards we went out for our traditional Christmas Eve Dinner: In and Out Burger.

Christmas morning was a bit strange in that both kids slept in. On any given day the kids are up by 7:30 am at the very latest. Our son slept in until 8:15 and I had to actually wake our daughter up at 9 am so we could get the show on the road. The kids were uber excited and were able to play a bit with their gifts before we had to get ready to head up to my parents.

It was mass chaos up there with six kids buried in a mass of wrapping paper and boxes. All were pleased with their gifts and once the initial excitement wore off a bit the kids actually played really well the rest of the day. There were sixteen of us this year, a few less than usual but a good time was had by all.

When we arrived back home in the early evening I spent a couple hours picking up wrapping paper, boxes, finding homes for all the new toys, and most importantly assembling the toys that needed it, and of course then playing with assembled toys.

The only negative was that our son woke up once again pretty sick. He has steadily been sick on and off for the past few months now and it's getting wearing. So, tomorrow and the rest of the weekend we will lay low, stay home, and spend the time enjoying each other's company and all the new Christmas gifts.

How was your Christmas? What is your plan for the rest of the weekend?

Merry Christmas

The decorations have been up for weeks along with the tree. The stockings are hung and filled with surprises for the kids on Christmas morning. Presents are wrapped and those not from Santa are set under the tree. It's finally relatively "cold" here so it feels a bit more like Christmas. Cookies have been made, frosted, and decorated and Christmas outfits have been purchased, washed, and ironed.

Everything is ready. I love the weeks leading up to Christmas. They are filled with purposeful preparation and eager anticipation. I love going to church Christmas Eve and singing the hymns I've sang since childhood. I love the traditions that have carried over from my childhood, mixed with the new traditions my husband and I have started with our children. I go to bed Christmas Eve with the same excitement as my children, eager for what Christmas morning will bring.

I love coming down the stairs bright and early and watching as the eyes of my children go wide with surprise and rush to their gifts to see what Santa brought the night before. I love eating freshly baked pastries for breakfast, a treat that only occurs once or twice a year.

I love sitting in our pajamas as the kids play with their new toys and then we gradually end up getting dressed and head over to my parent's Tucson home where we do it all over again and then feast on a huge meal.

So, here's wishing you and yours a very Merry Christmas!

Turkey Day Recap

Thanksgiving this year was another fun occasion, despite the semi-crankiness of our children. Wednesday evening I took our daughter up to my parents' Tucson home (they were in town for the holiday) so she could spend the night along with three of her cousins. Outside of the time our son was born or the time he was hospitalized she has never spent the night away from us. Even then my mom came and stayed with her at our home. Anyway, we weren't sure how it was going to go, but she loved it. She stayed up until midnight with her cousins, although my parents said she was ready to conk at 10 pm but didn't want to miss anything. Coming home last night without her was a little sad for me in a way, although it was great having all that time with our son and being able to give him some undivided attention.

We went up to my parents around 11 ish and our daughter was visibly tired, but she did a pretty good job of keeping it together throughout the day. My parents home is out in the desert so there is a lot of cactus both hidden and visible. Our son ended up grabbing/falling into some cactus getting most of it on his hand and arm which required my brother to try to get all the tiny, fine spikes out with tweezers while my husband and I tried to keep our son still and calm. I'm just thankful he had on jeans because there was a lot more cactus on his pants that could have been on his legs.

We ate, drank, told jokes, chatted, listened to my kids cry....the usual. We all went outside around 6:15 our time to see the space shuttle orbit and while outside our son, who was barefoot, stepped in a cactus. He was screaming, we couldn't see anything visible, and he wouldn't hold still long enough for us to look at his foot so we loaded him in the car and headed home. He kept screaming so when we got home I pinned him down and discovered two pretty decent size pieces of cactus dug pretty deeply into his foot. Poor kid had quite the trauma with cactus today.

Anyway, both are conked out; husband too and I am trying to decide if I should get up early to shop or just stay in bed and avoid the crazies.

How was your Thanksgiving?

The Single Parent Problems?

I read an article the other day that placed the blame for all that ails society, from crime to violence to discipline problems in school, on single parent families and the disintegration of the traditional family. While I find myself agreeing with some of the claims to a point a lot of what was said did not sit right with me. While I agree that parents are the single biggest influence on their children's lives, or at least should be and that ideally we would all live happily with a mommy, daddy, 2.5 kids, and a dog in a perfect world, the realist in me knows that this ideal is far more fiction than fact. That doesn't mean, to me, we shouldn't desire that ideal or stop trying to achieve that ideal, but what happens when that is not the reality?

I taught in public schools for years. I know that many kids who come from broken homes statistically have higher rates of discipline problems, but from personal experience, something the author of this article doesn't have, I also know that kids who come from stable, two parent homes also have discipline problems and some kids from one or no parent homes are the epitome of model behavior. I had students whose single mothers worked their butts off to provide for their children, cooked them dinner every night, taught them right from wrong, set high standards for behavior, and were great parents. So, basically, I don't put a lot of value in statistics, especially those that can be manipulated for their own agenda, be it personal, political, etc.

Part of the article suggested that if we really want to see a difference in crime, violence, and discipline problems then we will start addressing the real cause--single parent homes. How exactly this is supposed to be done was conveniently not outlined or specified in the article. It made me wonder, though, what about homes that become single family homes as a result of a death. Are these families suddenly doomed and to blame because they are now one short as a result of something out of their control? What about those who gave their lives as the ultimate sacrifice for our freedom? They are now technically single family homes. Are they now suddenly responsible for the demise of our society as we know it?

There are just too many variables to simply say single parent homes are the cause of violence, crime and discipline problems. Sure, absent fathers, jailed mothers, drug addicted parents of either sex, non-present parents, are all contributing factors that have led to some of these problems. To lump them into the same category as families who lost a spouse and parent to something unavoidable seems outlandish and grossly misleading to me.

So, what are your thoughts? Are single parent homes partly or solely to blame for these issues? Do you see a difference in the TYPES of single parents homes? If so, should these be accounted for when making such sweeping statements?

Only Shell

I once had a friend who thought for herself. She had her own opinions and own ideas. She then got a boyfriend and quickly adopted all of his views, did whatever he said, went wherever he told her. They'd inevitably break up and she'd move on to the next guy, whose views, even if they were in direct conflict with the previous guy's, she'd just as eagerly adopt. This went on for years. She no longer remembered how she really felt, what she really thought. She was lost. She became who each guy said she was, who he instructed her to be.

One day she married one of these guys. Gradually, over time, he told her what to think and believe, told her how to act and how not to act. He isolated her from her friends and family. His family became hers and took precedent over her natural family. His friends and siblings became her friends and siblings and she forsook her own. This whole transition was not only scary, but sad. It is how I imagine indoctrination into a cult being. She is now merely a shell of who she once was.

I'm fairly certain that deep down, in a place she will rarely access, let alone acknowledge, she knows all of this to be true. But she's trapped now. A marriage and progeny tie her to this new life. She believes she has too much to lose if she leaves. At least this is what I gauge to be true as a vacant, glazed look overtakes her eyes as her husband enters the room. The only time her eyes begin to clear is when he is far from earshot and she reminisces about times a decade or two ago. It is like she is quietly reminded of the hope she once had, the person she once was before she gave it all up to be who someone else wanted her to be. The ironic thing is, that I think she could be hopeful again if she was simply allowed to be herself.

I sometimes think that one day she is going to wake up and think, "What the hell have I done?" She's sacrificed much; she's given up entire parts of herself and allowed herself to be molded into this person that's barely recognizable. What if, one day, he wants her to be someone else?

While I don't agree with what she has done, I can understand it. It is for self-survival. She could never exist in this new family and circle of friends without adopting their views. They would eat her alive, belittle, and ridicule her. So, in turn she feels that she has to strike first, attacking those whose views go against "The Family." She has to prove she belongs. Unfortunately, those attacked are her former family and friends...those who knew her before she traded in who she was for what he needed and demanded her to be. Which makes it all the more sad. It is as if she has to be so forceful, insulting, confrontational, and borderline hateful in order to convince herself and others that this is who she really is. She is one of THEM.

More than anything, I now just feel sorry for her and pray she can live the next fifty years as someone she is not.

**Fictional piece; any similarities to actual people are unintentional

The Hands of Time......Please Turn them Back

In three months I'll be 32. THIRTY-TWO!!! There are days, like today, where I wonder where the time went. It has gone by way too quickly. The cruel twist is that I look like I'm 21 and feel like I'm 25. Yet, the birth certificate doesn't lie. I'm in my thirties.

Tonight I was sitting here thinking about my daughter going off to school next year and quite a bit of panic set in. Then I started visualizing her in first grade, then second, and third.....my mind kept going to where I envisioned myself going to pick her up from 8th grade and I'll be 40! That seems so far away but really it's not. It seems like just yesterday I was 20. Aside from the husband, job, and a couple of kids I feel pretty much the same. So, I started thinking about what I'll look like (will I have any gray hair?), what I'd be wearing (can you still get away with gym shorts at 40?), what would my kids be like, what would my husband look like (who at that point would be 43). That led to 50, then 60. I can't say that these thoughts were met with excitement.

I just wish time would slow the heck down. I love my children at this age. I'd keep them home with me forever if I could. I love having all this time to spend with them, when the biggest influence on them is me. I know once they are older and in school that won't always be the case. Their teachers will spend eight hours a day with them, their coaches maybe two or three. Where does that leave me? A few hours for dinner and before bed. Sorry, but that's not enough.

I loved school. All of it. I loved grade school (except part of first grade and most of seventh), high school, and college. In fact I'd do any and all of it over again. I hope my children have that same wonderful experience and I would never want to deprive them of that or do anything to take away from that. But the selfish, protective mama cub wants to curl up with her babies and stop the hands of time from moving forward. Because I know that with each year that they age, I'll age too and the next thing I know my kids will be married with children of their own and I'll be a grandma.

Can grandma's still wear gym shorts?

The truth is that as long as I look young, feel young, and act young I still think I am young. The reality is that I am not that young anymore. It's strange to wake up one day and realize that you aren't considered a young adult anymore, that you have jumped an age bracket. I'm sure I've matured and grown in ways that I don't realize but to me I feel like someone much younger than the date on my driver's license states.

Anyone else have these feelings?

A Tragic End

I awoke to the news today that my grandfather's sister (my grandfather has been dead since 1996), who is almost 94, and her 66 year old daughter are dead. Apparently, the daughter who for all intents and purposes is an invalid set fire to the trailer, trying to smoke while using medical oxygen, and both she and her mother perished. My grandmother was obviously shaken and while I was not particularly close to either my grandfather's sister or her daughter it is shocking and sad nonetheless.

My grandfather's sister has been taking care of her daughter for years. She has had a host of physical and mental problems that have rendered her helpless. They have hired occasional help but most of the day to day care taking fell in the lap of my grandfather's sister, which has been stressful to say the least. Recently, they had planned to put the 66 year old daughter into a care facility, even though she has been kicked out of every one she has been in for a variety of reasons.

I just think if you live almost 94 years, this is just such a tragic and senseless way to die. Any loss of life, especially through accidental means, is tragic. We were hoping that she had lost consciousness and died of smoke inhalation, but later found out she was the one who had called 911, so she knew she was probably going to die. A very sad and tragic end.

Condiment Central

Growing up, when I'd have friends over, we would inevitably end up in the fridge looking for food. I used to get made fun of because my friends would say, "Your house is the only house with a completely full fridge with only condiments and no food." And for the most part they were right. There was always turkey and cheese and fruit, but our fridge would be stocked with mustard, mayo, salad dressings, pickles, hot sauce, steak sauce, random concoctions my dad had mixed up, and every other possible condiment.

When my husband and I were dating he stopped by my apartment one day to visit. He makes fun of me to this day because according to him all that was in the fridge was ketchup, pickles, mustard, A1, and hummus and in my freezer simply a bottle of tanqueray vodka. He refers to my family as the Kings of Condiments.

So, when we got married he put a ban on excessive amounts of condiments in the fridge. Admittedly this was hard for me at first but I have managed to get by with mustard, mayo, ketchup, one bottle of hot sauce, A1, and only one thing of salad dressing at a time (made easier by the fact that I make our own salad dressing). This is quite the feat as my parents fridge still is condiment headquarters.

While my daughter doesn't like any condiment outside of mayo and even that is pushing it, my son seems to follow in his mother's footsteps and loves all condiments. So much in fact that he'll eat them plain...no food necessary. Needless to say, this is a stake in my husband's heart. And his mommy couldn't be more proud.

Keep on Truckin'

It is easy sometimes to take for granted the things we have been blessed with. I know that I am often guilty of this. It saddens me to think how many hours a week my husband has to work and how much he misses out on with our kids, yet because he works that much we can afford to pay our bills. While he works close to eighty hours a week there are others (and some in our immediate circle) who don't have jobs at all. When I think about their uncertain future it makes me so much more grateful that my husband is employed. I oftentimes think it would be easier if we had more disposable income (who doesn't?) to blow on luxuries and non-necessities and then I think about those who can't afford food to feed their families or those who are losing their homes. It is hard to not see my husband as often as I would like and I wish he and I had time to go out alone and spend more time together, yet then I think about a couple of friends of mine who are currently going through divorces and will be starting their lives over as single women. It makes me thankful for the time, however little it may be, that I do have with him.

Times seems to be rough for a lot of people right now. The economic struggles seem to permeate into the personal lives of those battling hardship. How can it not? As tough as things sometimes get I always try to remind myself to be thankful for what we have. We have food, clothing, and shelter. We have our health and our love for one another. Nobody is putting his/her life on the line fighting a war as many of our American men and women are doing on a daily basis. For all of those things I am thankful.

When I look around and see friends or people I know losing their homes, the lives they knew, their marriages, and their self-esteem it is disheartening and discouraging. However, it makes me that much more intent on making what I have and what my family has work. Everything is cyclical and what goes down must come up and while things are far from ideal we keep plugging away, holding on, working together. And that has to count for something.

The Dirty Facts of Life

As kids growing up all my parents ever bought were Springer Spaniel dogs. Through the course of my childhood there was Luke, Sherlock, and Watson. After I moved away for college (my younger siblings were still at home) my parents bought their first pound puppy they named Kelly, followed by another pure bread Spaniel who they never spayed as they intended to breed her. As with a lot of things, they never got around to doing that. Molly, the dog, is now eleven years old.

When my parents moved to DC in January they left the dog with my grandmother. My kids love Molly and would spend hours making her a bed, getting her food, and playing with her over the years. About two months ago, my grandmother's neighbor's pit bull broke down the neighbors fence and molested poor Molly, not once but twice.

The past few weeks she's been miserable, constantly licking her stomach, lactating, and showing all the typical signs of pregnancy. My parents were in town for my daughter's birthday and took her to the vet. The worst was confirmed: she's pregnant, however in all likelihood giving birth to the puppies would kill her and more likely than not the pups would not survive either, due to a variety of factors and conditions with Molly, her age and size being two of them.

Anyway, this has been very upsetting to all involved, my parents especially as my mom and brother have to take her in for surgery tomorrow. It is a possibility that Molly will not survive the surgery. While certainly sad, I worry about having to tell my daughter. Kelly, my parents other dog, died not long ago and our daughter was very upset about that. Her fish just died and she recently started asking a lot of questions about Michael Jackson* dying. She obviously pays much closer attention to the conversations my husband and I have than I ever imagined. While I am honest with her, I also don't want her worrying or thinking that everyone who gets old or sick dies.

What is your experience with explaining death to young children?

*On a funnier note, my daughter asked me today if Michael Jackson was both a girl and a boy. I asked her why she thought that and she said, "Because he sings like a girl. Like this...yee, hee and he also kinda looks like one" and then mimicked his high pitched squeal (for lack of a better word).

Reflections on What is Wrong with Our Culture

I wrote a bit about my feelings on politicians and their affairs a few weeks ago. Yet again, we have the governor of South Carolina, Mark Sanford embroiled in controversy as he was caught amid lies and then forced to admit to an affair. The part that really irks me about him is two fold (and this is in addition to the fact that he was having an affair period): in his public apology he apologizes first for the pain he has caused his mistress. His friends, wife, and sons all follow. That says something. Along with that is the portion where he states he was crying his eyes out in Argentina the past five days. Why? Because he was heart broken over having to leave his mistress to actually honor the commitment he made to his wife? That really rubs me the wrong way. The second part of my frustration is that he and his wife were supposedly separated with the intent of strengthening their marriage. I'm not really sure how visiting your mistress for a week will result in a strengthening of your marriage commitment to the wife you have been cheating on.

Like I mentioned before, cheating by anyone is wrong, equally wrong regardless of what political party you belong to. However, it especially seems to irritate me when the Republican party, and this man in particular, makes a concerted effort to be America's moral police, constantly telling the rest of us what we ought to be doing, all the while doing exactly what they are railing against and condemning. These affairs just highlight the larger problem in America, or the world for that matter, which is a general degradation of morals and values.

People go around acting as if they are accountable to no one, as if vows they took and promises they made are meaningless, as if they are somehow above the other slime that lies, cheats, and steals, and as if an apology somehow makes it all better. This isn't simply limited to politicians. We hear more about politicians because they are in the public eye and possibly held to a higher standard, but everyday men and women engage in this same shameful behavior. It is nothing more than hubris that allows them to believe they will really get away with it.

Integrity is the measure of a person and if you cannot be trusted then there isn't much left.

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It has become increasingly apparent with the recent DC Metro accident and Air France crash that people have developed a cavalier attitude towards safety. It is concerning that in both instances recommendations were made that would have ensured greater safety and both recommendations were either ignored or had not yet been implemented. It seems like there should be a way for travellers to check to see if the particular plane, train, or automobile that they are travelling in or on has had recommendations made and whether or not those were actually followed and implemented. It never ceases to amaze me when officials know that recommendations were made, choose not to prioritize them, and then act shocked when a catastrophic, life-taking event occurs. It makes me mad that the powers that be take these recommendations so cavalierly, as if life is inconsequential. Companies are worried about cost, time involved, and the work required. I understand that. However, it would sure be nice if that same level of concern was given to the lives of those who were on these ill-fated vessels of transportation. Maybe they wouldn't be dead now.

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Until the past few weeks I have watched exactly one episode of Jon and Kate Plus Eight. The one I watched was so disturbing to me that I never tuned in again. I hated the way Kate barked at her husband, I hated witnessing how weak her husband either is or was portrayed, and it pained me to know that those eight kids now had a childhood tainted by "reality." However, this week I watched three episodes, including the one where the big divorce announcement was made. It made me cringe. It seems self-serving that they have chosen to take something private and painful and turn it into a public spectacle. Shame on them. Those children will now have footage for an eternity documenting the demise of their parents' marriage and the end of their family.

Honestly, as Jon and Kate began noticing things going south in their marriage they should have called it quits right then and there, got the cameras out of their house, and made a legitimate attempt to fix their marriage, or at least agree to end things in private and not with America watching. This should not be something that plays out in front of a camera. This isn't reality and it shouldn't be entertainment. There are children involved who will one day see this train wreck in all its glory. As a parent I would protect my children at all cost and I think in this situation the show should most certainly not go on chronicling the demise of a family.

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So, what about society is bugging you right now? How do you feel about some of the above issues?

This Too Will Pass

Everything with children comes and goes in phases. This is true of behavior, interests, dislikes, sayings, and the like. When my daughter was first born she went through phases that were foreign to me. Heck, she was my first born; I didn't know what to expect. I thought when she screamed every night for three hours straight, just in order to calm herself, that this would never pass. But it did. I thought her unwillingness to share her toys with others might mean she'd grow up to be selfish. It too passed and she shares willingly and graciously now. I thought the horrible tantrums that lasted over a year and that would go on for hours meant she surely must have some behavioral disorder. I thought she would never overcome the incredible shyness she possessed early on. However, like all that had come before it too passed. The thing is that people told me it was a phase. They told me it would pass. My parents, my friends with children, my pediatrician, well-meaning acquaintances all assured me that nothing was wrong and all children behaved this way. Every child goes through a wide-range of phases. But I worried and fretted.

Then I had my son ( two years ago now) and while he hasn't gone through the same phases my daughter did he has gone through phases of his own, that eventually passed as well. I'm much more prepared this time around. I'm more relaxed and not convinced that every phase is an indication that I have somehow failed as a mother or that every tantrum is indicative of some type of behavioral issue that will guarantee my child a spot in the federal or state penal system down the road.

I wish I would have listened to everyone sooner. I wish I would have just chilled out a bit and not worried so much. I realize now how pointless all that worry was. My daughter has her days like any other child, but she's happy, healthy, caring, empathetic, sweet, intelligent, and the list goes on. She doesn't scream herself to sleep at night, she doesn't refuse to share her toys, she doesn't have tantrums that go on for hours. She's a normal, well-adjusted almost 4 year old.

Everything is a phase and everything will pass. As a parent it is hard for me to trust that sometimes. But I have to. I have living proof that this is true as I'd venture to say most parents do too.

So, what are/were some of the phases your children went through that you were convinced would never pass?

Vacay with a Capital V

My husband and I wanted to take the kids and get away for the weekend. We didn't want to go far so we were looking for places either here in Tucson or Phoenix. We have had great luck with Priceline in the past, but I thought I'd look around on Expedia. I came across this resort and casino on the outskirts of Scottsdale. It first grabbed my attention because if we stayed Friday and Saturday night they would give you Friday night free. I thought it must be a dump, but it was rated 4 stars. I started looking through the pictures and the place was gorgeous. We booked a room immediately and headed up Friday morning.

The place was incredible. Great pools, great service, wonderfully family friendly, and the weather was gorgeous for this time of year. We spent Friday at the pool. Friday night there was a Dive In Movie that we watched for a bit and then when the kids and my husband went to bed I hit the casino. I won some money (which is something that NEVER happens) and was feeling pretty good. *

Saturday we spent most of the day at the pool. I did manage to spend another hour at the casino and just when I was about to give up (I'd lost 20 bucks, won it back, and figured I better get out now) when I won BIG....big enough to pay for the trip and still have some left over. Needless to say that put us all in a great mood. That afternoon the hotel had arts and crafts by the side of the pool. The kids could go into the hotel kitchen and cook a dessert with the chef and then the dessert is delivered to your room for you to eat later. There were also face painters, air brush tattoos, and a man drawing caricatures. It was a blast and our kids were exhausted by the evening.

We managed to get both to take a nap which is amazing.** My daughter gave up naps over two years ago but she sacked out for over two hours. That night we went back to the pool, watched the Dive In Movie and stayed up late just hanging out.

When it was time to head back Sunday afternoon we were all pretty sad. Usually by the end of a little get-away I am anxious to get home. Not this time; we are already trying to plan when we can get back.

So, what have been some of your favorite last minute get-aways or vacations?

Our daughter getting her feet wet.

My husband and daughter playing outside in the evening.

My husband and son taking a dip in the pool.

Our son and daughter heading to the pool.

My daughter, son, and husband.

* Before having kids my husband and I would go to the casino here in town once in a while. I NEVER won. And by never, I mean never. I exaggerate not. My husband would win, those we went with would win, but I would always lose money. This was the first time and it was only on one machine in this casino. My husband was shocked when he found out a)I actually won and b) the amount I won was sizeable.

**I don't know if it was because we did so much swimming that the kids slept so well or if it was because the room had those black out blinds or if it was a combination, but our kids SLEPT. It was magical. For the first time in two years our son slept the entire night. I thought my husband may have rolled over on him and smothered him.

Tori and Dean: To Have The Issues They Have

Last year I started watching a show called Tori and Dean: Home Sweet Hollywood, which is a reality show starring, as the name suggests, Tori Spelling and Dean McDermott. I am rather ashamed to admit that I have been sucked in. It is like a train wreck; I know I should look away, but I keep watching to see how bad it really is. I am conflicted because I have a host of issues with both Tori and Dean, mainly that they had an affair with each other when they were both married to other people, and also with the especially insensitive way Dean dealt with the aftermath. My feelings are that the mistress who marries the man creates a job opening. Their morals, or lack thereof, is a topic for another time, though.

The truth is that it is not so much that I like their show or find them particularly interesting, but rather that it consistently baffles me that the issues they view as problems are problems most of us would kill to have, like how to juggle the variety of television and movie roles they have been offered. Equally baffling is the way they react and whine (there is no better word for it) about the times when they actually have to raise and be responsible for their own children. Admittedly, by Hollywood standards they do not receive as much in-home help as other celebrities (and no, I don't consider either Tori or Dean a celebrity in the truest sense of the word). However, by the standards most mothers would apply, they both receive an incredible amount of help from friends, a hired baby-nurse (aka nanny), and others who arrange their schedules and care for their children when they can't be bothered to make those arrangements themselves like the rest of us.

So, I am watching last night and their baby nurse (who seems like a really lovely lady) is out of town visiting her own family. During her absence Tori decides to take the two kids to visit their father on set of a photo shoot. This task about kills her and it looks like the most unnatural thing in the world for her to do. She acts like she has just brokered world peace for simply being able to dress two kids, load them in a car, drive them, unload them, strap them in a stroller, and then supervise them once out in public. I have two kids. Running errands is not always easy and sometimes it is downright miserable, but it is something every mom I know does on a daily basis and not one of us acts like we deserve a medal.

Also in last nights episode they had to plan, pack, and load for a trip to Canada. You can tell this is something that they rarely do for themselves. The sheer shock Tori expresses at the amount of stuff she has to pack for her children is telling. I am in complete agreement that packing for children should be an Olympic event. Not much is left behind and it can be a pain in the rear, but people have been doing it since the beginning of time and I don't know anyone who has died from it yet.

There's not any "lesson" or "moral" to this story, other than to say that I find their show entertaining primarily because the "issues" that so consume them are part of the average person's everyday life.

**Disclaimer: I will say, in their defense, that both parents seem to love their children very much, treat them nicely, and for the most part are pretty involved. I don't think they are neglectful, abusive, or anything of that nature.