I have to get some things off my chest in light of the Sandy Hook tragedy. You may not agree, and that's OK...
1. Guns. I grew up in a house with guns. Several of them. I know many of my friends who grew up the same. In my 13 years of grade school, no one ever brought a gun to school. The biggest threat we had was kids getting on the wrong bus to go home, or some idiot who wanted to get out of taking a test would call in a bomb threat and we'd all have to go sit out on the football field for an hour. No on ever showed up with a gun, much less shot anyone. Guns are not the major issue here. School shootings are an indirect result of a society that has become a culture of mental instability, a lack of self-respect or value of life. I meet children who speak to their parents like they are worthless individuals that just happen to be living under the same roof, yet they get away with it. Children are exposed to adult content too early and they become desensitized to it all by the time they reach their teenage years. I do believe that we, as a nation, should come up with stricter gun laws. But I don't think this would solve the problem. When is the last time you met a criminal that cared a lick about laws? I remember in high school how easy it was to get our hands on alcohol. I remember getting drunk at a field party. Did I care that I was only 17, and 4 years too young to be drinking? No. I did not. However, that was in 1999. Obviously things have changed.
2. God. In elementary school we recited the Pledge of Allegiance every morning. A student would get on the intercom in the office and lead the school while we all stood by our desks, facing the flag that hung in our classroom with our hand over our hearts. We knew it word for word by the second week of kindergarten. That was the only time we ever mentioned God in school. Of course, today, it is rare to hear that pledge in a school. I'm OK with that. You know why? Because I don't believe you can take God out of anywhere. Regardless of who your God is, you can't remove Him from the person who believes in Him. He goes where we go. I'm so sick of hearing the religious argument, "__(fill in the blank)__ happened because God was taken from the school." I'm sorry, but you're wrong. My God is always with me. I was taught that by my parents, my family and my church and I believe it to be true. It is not the educators' job to teach your child a religion. That's YOUR job as the parent, if you chose to do so. Learning morals and values starts at home. Your child's teacher builds upon those universal values by leading and teaching in a loving, kind and nurturing way. Whether the teacher is Christian, Jewish, Muslim, Buddhist, or Atheist, he or she will love your child and teach your child with the highest of moral standards that comes naturally to all teachers that are truly called to teach. If you want your child to be taught in an atmosphere that is exclusive to one of those religions, put him in a private school that offers that setting.
3. Mental illness. For whatever reason, mental illness and development disorders are the red headed step children of the medical world. Insurance doesn't want to cover it, people don't want to talk about it, and children and adults a like are secretly shunned because they suffer from it. I have been affected directly on this issue in more ways than one and what I have observed infuriates me. Public schools, in general, are not equipped to educate children with mental or developmental issues. They are cast out to the side and their parents are left to wonder how in the world they are going to get them through graduation without wanting to jump off a building. Mental health professionals, in general, are quick to drown patients in medication rather than offering therapy to work through their issues. Medication they quickly become dependent on. It then takes 10 times the effort to wean off the medicines than it would to work through the underlying issues that presented in the beginning. I am NOT saying all mentally ill people can do without medication. I am suggesting that some mentally ill and developmentally challenged individuals need only a specific plan of action and a qualified, caring professional to help them work through their challenges.
4. Westboro. They are NOT baptist. They are NOT a church. Westboro (and I won't even say their full name) is a hate group. The media and the general public need to stop referring to them as a baptist church. This group of people participate in hate crimes against humanity. Hate crimes are illegal, therefore they should be prohibited to "practicing their right to free speech." Wake up folks.
Our country is so quick to lay blame on someone else or a certain policy when tragedy occurs. Perhaps WE are to blame. We, as a nation, are doing our children an injustice. The United States of America is more concerned about foreign policy, the "sanctity of marriage", unborn babies and marijuana rather than focusing on the important stuff. The people of this nation are suffering because our country can't get our priorities straight. Yet, we (parents) are supposed to teach our children to be responsible adults and set appropriate priorities?
I see a problem here. Or maybe I've just lost my mind.
Tuesday, December 18, 2012
FIVE
Did you hear? I have a 5-year-old.
1...2...3...4...5.
Five years of giggles, bedtime stories, bubble baths, walks, trips to the park, and playing catch. 60 months of snuggles, kissing boo boos, saying prayers, wiping tears, looking for the moon, and counting stars. 260 weeks of peek-a-boo, coloring, racing cars, listening for trains and chasing firetrucks. 1,825 days of waffles for breakfast, chocolate milk, building sand castles, pretending we can fly, and playing in the rain. 43,800 hours of cooking together, answering "why?", monkey hugs, cow kisses and the most beautiful brown eyes I've ever seen. 2,628,000 minutes of dancing, drumming, singing and painting in the kitchen. 157,680,000 seconds of thanking God for my smart, witty, beautiful, sweet Ryan.
How on earth did I get so lucky to be blessed with such a remarkable child?
Ryan,
You are a remarkable little boy with a big heart. I am so proud to be your mother. You will move mountains, son!
Happy Birthday precious boy. I love you!
~Mommy
1...2...3...4...5.
Five years of giggles, bedtime stories, bubble baths, walks, trips to the park, and playing catch. 60 months of snuggles, kissing boo boos, saying prayers, wiping tears, looking for the moon, and counting stars. 260 weeks of peek-a-boo, coloring, racing cars, listening for trains and chasing firetrucks. 1,825 days of waffles for breakfast, chocolate milk, building sand castles, pretending we can fly, and playing in the rain. 43,800 hours of cooking together, answering "why?", monkey hugs, cow kisses and the most beautiful brown eyes I've ever seen. 2,628,000 minutes of dancing, drumming, singing and painting in the kitchen. 157,680,000 seconds of thanking God for my smart, witty, beautiful, sweet Ryan.
How on earth did I get so lucky to be blessed with such a remarkable child?
Ryan,
You are a remarkable little boy with a big heart. I am so proud to be your mother. You will move mountains, son!
Happy Birthday precious boy. I love you!
~Mommy
Tuesday, December 4, 2012
Put Me In The Zoo
I commonly refer to my family as a circus and me the circus manager. It fits. It's entertaining. It's fun. Well, after the last couple weeks, I'm not sure that analogy fits anymore. Circuses are well thought out, planned and structured. Every once in a while we'll hear of a freak accident where the tiger goes off on his handler or the elephant plows through the crowd, but for the most part, circus animals and people on stage are trained (or terrified) and respond on command to complete their tasks to entertain a crowd.
No, we're not a circus. We're entertaining and fun, but there's no structure and the planned days are scarce. We are a zoo. While entertaining, zoos allow their animals to roam free and do whatever it is that makes them happy. Other than feeding time, they lack structure. People come and watch the animals in the zoo in their natural habitat, not some crazy, delusional production where tigers are jumping through hoops of fire and elephants are giving each other piggyback rides.
The Dipp zoo has special kinds of animals though. We have morphing animals. We have lions that morph into monkeys that morph into birds that morph into... well, you get it.
My Mimi used to read to me when I was little. It was one of my favorite things to do with her. One of my favorite books she would read is a Dr. Seuss book, Put Me In The Zoo. If you aren't familiar with the read, it is about a Leopard named Spot. He wants to live in the zoo, but ultimately decides that the circus is the best fit for him as that is where he can best showcase his talents. Perhaps my childhood love for this book was a foreshadowing of my future. My future of being 'put in the zoo'. Ironically, I have purchased this book for Liam for our new family tradition, 12 books of Christmas. I can't wait to read it to him.
Ryan received some hand-me-down Spiderman pajamas from a friend last week. Tonight he wore them for the first time and realized the shirt had "web wings". My soon-to-be five-year-old immediately began jumping from the couch to the ottoman, and while flying through the air, he yelled "SPIDER SPIDER SPIDER!!"
After bath time I got one hell of a workout while attempting to dry my crazed, slippery, 2-year-old, half-monkey child while simultaneously preventing him from falling on a wet floor and keep the door shut while he pitched a fit to get at his brother before Ryan could get to his trains. Not an hour after his bath, Liam had an unfortunate accident with a Pediasure Sidekicks 'milk shake' that left his hair soaked and smelly and the bedroom walls needing to be cleaned.
On any given night, if you were to walk in our home, you would find Ryan racing around the "track" that our kitchen, living room and dining room double as, kicking balls through the house or jumping off the top of the Little Tikes climber. You will find Liam standing on tables, coloring on himself, getting into the tupperware cabinet, or emptying out the desk. During these colder months the basketball goal, bikes and various balls have found their way into the house. If you stepped in, you may or may not get smacked in the face by a ball that has just been kicked during a game of indoor soccer. If you have dinner with us, it is likely that you will end up with part of Liam's dinner in your hair, on your plate or in your lap. You may walk into a dance party in our kitchen, complete with all 43 instruments we own. You'll also hear dogs barking, children squeeling, and lovely background Pandora music that sometimes doesn't really fit the mood. You'll find dirty dishes in the sink, a pile of laundry and sometimes you'll find sticky floors. You'll also find a laid back mother who enjoys allowing her children express themselves in their own home.
So, no. Our home doesn't fit with the orderly standards of a circus. We're simply a zoo. A crazy, unstructured, free-spirited home with half-crazed, borderline-barbaric children. We act in our natural ways and only have semi-structured feeding times. We have lions, tigers, and bears... OH MY! We have fun, we have excitement, and we have love.
Yes please, Put me in the Zoo!
No, we're not a circus. We're entertaining and fun, but there's no structure and the planned days are scarce. We are a zoo. While entertaining, zoos allow their animals to roam free and do whatever it is that makes them happy. Other than feeding time, they lack structure. People come and watch the animals in the zoo in their natural habitat, not some crazy, delusional production where tigers are jumping through hoops of fire and elephants are giving each other piggyback rides.
The Dipp zoo has special kinds of animals though. We have morphing animals. We have lions that morph into monkeys that morph into birds that morph into... well, you get it.
My Mimi used to read to me when I was little. It was one of my favorite things to do with her. One of my favorite books she would read is a Dr. Seuss book, Put Me In The Zoo. If you aren't familiar with the read, it is about a Leopard named Spot. He wants to live in the zoo, but ultimately decides that the circus is the best fit for him as that is where he can best showcase his talents. Perhaps my childhood love for this book was a foreshadowing of my future. My future of being 'put in the zoo'. Ironically, I have purchased this book for Liam for our new family tradition, 12 books of Christmas. I can't wait to read it to him.
Ryan received some hand-me-down Spiderman pajamas from a friend last week. Tonight he wore them for the first time and realized the shirt had "web wings". My soon-to-be five-year-old immediately began jumping from the couch to the ottoman, and while flying through the air, he yelled "SPIDER SPIDER SPIDER!!"
After bath time I got one hell of a workout while attempting to dry my crazed, slippery, 2-year-old, half-monkey child while simultaneously preventing him from falling on a wet floor and keep the door shut while he pitched a fit to get at his brother before Ryan could get to his trains. Not an hour after his bath, Liam had an unfortunate accident with a Pediasure Sidekicks 'milk shake' that left his hair soaked and smelly and the bedroom walls needing to be cleaned.
On any given night, if you were to walk in our home, you would find Ryan racing around the "track" that our kitchen, living room and dining room double as, kicking balls through the house or jumping off the top of the Little Tikes climber. You will find Liam standing on tables, coloring on himself, getting into the tupperware cabinet, or emptying out the desk. During these colder months the basketball goal, bikes and various balls have found their way into the house. If you stepped in, you may or may not get smacked in the face by a ball that has just been kicked during a game of indoor soccer. If you have dinner with us, it is likely that you will end up with part of Liam's dinner in your hair, on your plate or in your lap. You may walk into a dance party in our kitchen, complete with all 43 instruments we own. You'll also hear dogs barking, children squeeling, and lovely background Pandora music that sometimes doesn't really fit the mood. You'll find dirty dishes in the sink, a pile of laundry and sometimes you'll find sticky floors. You'll also find a laid back mother who enjoys allowing her children express themselves in their own home.
So, no. Our home doesn't fit with the orderly standards of a circus. We're simply a zoo. A crazy, unstructured, free-spirited home with half-crazed, borderline-barbaric children. We act in our natural ways and only have semi-structured feeding times. We have lions, tigers, and bears... OH MY! We have fun, we have excitement, and we have love.
Yes please, Put me in the Zoo!
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