PHOENIX OF LOVE

There were just too many feelings of up and down this week. Emotional roller coaster took on new meaning for me. Most everything was out of my control, and it was just the week I was dealt. To remain optimistic is our human duty. It’s difficult to decipher which emotion to contemplate on, so I choose the love in all of the situations this week.

After 14 months, The Baby has most of her crap mistake behind her, and only needs to look at the future and being more selective in her friends and geography. : ) Though this is a definitely a hard choice for most, she always was the type of person who lead the crowd. Now, heads are turning, and following her now is a kinder crowd, along with her new attitude and behavior. Some have said how lucky she was today, but the truth is The Baby equals love, and chose love over her past and future choices. She chose the love of us, The Boy and her family. She chose to hold onto the love of old friends who still stand behind her. She is choosing love in her new friends and people she wants to be around. She chose the love of herself, her life and her dreams to secure the freedom she needs to breathe. I am happy because for the first time in over a year, The Baby is happy. Love is always worth the fight, no matter what is at stake.

The old dog is missed. Each time I wake up for the double shot of espresso, I look for her. I have reminded RT that Sammie is not here. He knows I miss her badly, but I don’t like admitting she is dead - she’s just “not here”. I miss her because of her absence, and the unconditional love this creature gave to me for so long. I miss her laying with me though I was full of radiation. I miss her sitting in the hallway, watching out the front bedroom window, waiting for headlights to turn into the long driveway. I miss her head on my chest and how she looked at me. In the past week, I’ve learned to look at the wonderful memories of her and her personality - not her last day on Earth. I’ve made a pact with RT about getting another dog or animal. I never want to go through the emotions of that infamous one day of death.

Feeling lucky of the steady stream of business has been another source of happiness. With a never ending flow of horrible financial news in the media world, it is incredible we are still determined, and fortunate from a consistency of our hard work over past years. It is paying off now, when times are tight, and we have decided to share with the people of Haiti again. Since health issues would keep me from going back there, it is a reprieve for me to know we can continue to help in a financial way.

With the oppression of some family members, it was so amazing to reconnect with the love of the other side of the family this past weekend. It gives me a renewed look at who I am and who I am meant to be. What is in constant conflict on one side, is purely love on the other. Feeling like you’re at home is different for everyone, but I finally know where my undeniably connection was born and still lives. It has settled so much in me internally, I know the peace that escaped me for years, is finally here. I shall never let it go.

Looking for the easy way out is, well, easy. It is almost like having to turn the large boulder, so you can continue on your path. Sometimes I can use leverage, all by myself. Other times, I need help of other people. Never in my wildest dreams did I ever see the new life underneath the boulder. It keeps me open for everything positive and lessens the pessimism. It keeps me strong and discards the weakness of my faults. It keeps me wanting to share bliss, instead of hoarding the bitterness life unceasingly gives us. I’ve decided to look at love this week.

Wouldn’t you agree, baby you and me, got a groovy kind of love . . .”

PLEASE DON'T CRAP IN MY GARDEN!

In 2006, we’ve had Ecoli attacks from eating spinach. Some people, who do not like spinach, thought it was the perfect way to keep it out of their diets. It’s amazing that most news stories get the gory details of every second of a catastrophe, and will replay for days, but the gory little details to stop ecoli get buried. Spinach is one of the most nourishing plants for our body, of course, without the ecoli. The solution should have been broadcasted around the world, and is a simple question we should ask ourselves. Have you ever seen a port-a-potty or any bathroom facility in a farm field? Duh! Just because it comes in a clean plastic box or bag means nothing. If you shit in your vegetable garden, would you think of washing off the vegetables? Eww! There is very little to do to make spinach safe for consumption, by simply washing it thoroughly before eating it.

The recalling of peanuts hit pretty close to home, especially here in Georgia. With a couple of people dying and many getting sick, it was scary to think that most kids ask for peanut butter. I had one of those children myself, who constantly wanted peanut butter sandwiches. My solution for this is so incredibly easy. Make the inspectors (who so called “inspected” this rancid facility only two months prior) and the president of the peanut company eat some peanuts from the bin -- together, just before signing off on the “OK” inspection. You can bet your sweet ass the peanut plant would have been shut down or cleaned up instantly, and rat shit would not have been existent in the facility.

This morning, we made our trek back home on an airplane. I’m not a “germ freak”, but I wash my hands often. In the Atlanta airport, there is a three story escalator. It carries the passengers to the train that takes you to the concourse. If you think of how many thousands of people use the long moving rail on the escalator, or the poles or straps on the train, it tends to make you think of what is on your hands. Today, I watched a woman skip out of the ladies’ room when I stopped to scrub down. A few minutes later, she was at our gate eating!!! Eww!

Now we are wondering why there is a new epidemic of the swine flu. So one person decides to get some pig excrement on them, someway, somehow, and doesn’t wash it off of them, then passes it onto someone else. The second person rubs their eye, bites their nails or infects themselves (possibly innocently) and it spreads like wild fire. It soon becomes air borne and puts so many people at risk and the entire world on alert. We need to keep tabs on the person playing with pig shit! Where is this guy and will he do it again??? Ewww!

Public telephones are bad because you get the hand and mouth thing going. If you don’t have a cell phone by now and ask to use mine, I would rather I make the call for you, than you use my phone. No offense, but I don’t know where your hands have been - or mouth, for that matter. I’d call Tokyo, if you asked, but please, let me make the call.

Which brings me to the nastiest and grossest of all - money. I’ve been to the metropolitan areas of large cities in the world. I’ve seen beggars, addicts, prostitutes. I’ve also seen where a few have stashed their money on their bodies. Eww! When she was in grade school, I saw The Baby once put her lunch money in her shoe because she didn’t have a pocket, knowing full well she wasn’t going to wash her hands between retrieving her money for payment and eating. Eww! I still have a hard time in NYC from a street vendor, knowing there could possibly be foot sweat from a seven year old on my pretzel. Eww!

There is an intelligent man I know teaching these basic skills, via videos and music, to our beloved Haitians, who were uneducated in their third world country. It’s made a world of difference when he began this ministry to teach these people. Preventable sickness can be possibly PREVENTED! We must go back to the basic skills we all learned in kindergarten. Here’s the news flash! Wash your freaking hands! Wash your fresh vegetables! Why doesn’t FOX News or CNN broadcast these simple instructions.

SAMANTHA-THE BEST EVER!

There is not enough said about love in this world. We only miss it when it disappears from our lives. When our hearts are filled with grief, only then do we realize how much love had surrounded us. We lost our ole dog, Sammie, this morning. After a laborious and gallant fight for her breath through the night with RT, we knew she had little time left. This morning, in our pool of tears, we took turns holding her frail and aging body in our arms, as we got dressed and ready for the day.

Sammie’s story begins in the fall of 1994. Fresh from the divorce court, and deciding to keep my two small children, (ages six and eight) in the same school, I looked desperately for ways to be a consistent parent and not to upset their lives any more than their father and I had already. With my life in a mess and my mind in a constant fog, I searched for comfort for my small children, through the upheaval that was no fault of theirs.

On day, The Baby asked for a puppy and The Boy was insistent not to get a dog. He was continually bitten by his mean ass grandmother’s dog, and the blame was always put on him. Frustrated to protect my young ones, we stayed at hotels to avoid the mean dog (and mean grandmother). The Boy was petrified of dogs from this, and wanted nothing to do with even a new frisky puppy.

I asked The Baby to give me one good reason for a dog, and she could take her time giving me back her answer. With her next breath, she said “I want something to love and to love me back - no matter what.” With this answer, I immediately thought this six year old was getting a new puppy, but kept my decision to myself. I told them we would just look at them, knowing full well what would happen when they both saw the puppies.

Out of the 8 puppies in the room, they both chose the same one. The Baby named her Samantha. Weighing about 8 ounces, she was no bigger than a gerbil. Not only did The Boy feel comfortable, he fell in love with her in the car, before we got the new puppy home. The Baby named her Samantha, a/k/a/ Sammie. She was the kindest and sweetest dog ever, no matter what anyone else tells you about their dog. She was the absolute best dog a family could ever dream of.

This little dog gave nothing but love and affection to all of us. She was attacked by a large dog in our front yard. It was the day before The Boy departed for Nicaragua for a mission trip. The day before, The Baby had left for a trip to London. We didn’t tell The Baby until she got home, and The Boy called every chance he got to check on her. We almost lost her then. After 170 stitches and 14 drains implanted in her tiny body, I laid beside her, day and night for over a month. I talked to her, preparing her for her death, repeating what a wonderful dog and companion she had been. She miraculously survived this vicious attack. With scars going around her entire body and a limp in her step, she carried on. For the years after, all she wanted was to lay her head on your chest. I think I stayed so close to her during her recuperation, she must have heard my heart beating. It may have given her comfort on people’s chest, as the years followed.

Little Sammie became a part of our family, tied to our heart. Almost 15 years later, The Boy has a 60 pound mixed breed mutt, about three years old. He rescued him from a life of sickness and abuse from drug addicts. He was sentenced to euthanasia the week after they met. He still has hurdles to climb, but is getting healthier all the time and now has a loving home with The Boy. He can’t imagine his life without his mutt, Henry Aaron. Sammie’s incredible love for The Boy surely taught him he didn’t have to be afraid of dogs.

A few months ago, The Baby rescued a 10 month old kitten from a no-kill shelter in Atlanta. She was ready to make the commitment to raising a pet, and missed Sammie so much. The Baby wanted to take her dog with her to college. Her first year, she lived in a dorm (against the rules) in a large building in downtown Atlanta (no grass). But even if we could have said yes, little Sammie was too frail then. With studying and partying, there was no sense in taking little ole Sammie, now going blind, from her familiar home. To uproot her would have been tramatic to the dog.

I told The Baby today, the love she shared with her beloved Sammie over the years, taught her things that I could never have given her. The Baby is a vegan, and she will let a fly buzz in her house for five days, rather than killing it. She is, without argument, the most kindest human being to animals that I know. She hasn’t been having a good week, and has called me everyday for comfort since last Thursday. And I had to give her more horrible news to deal with.

The Baby and The Boy had a nice visit with her on Easter. They both petted her, and took turns holding her, and Sammie was so genuinely to see the both of them too. The little blind dog ran across the front yard and down the drive to greet both cars, as they pulled up.

Sammie helped me mother my children. In the old house, if I was working in the basement office, I would come upstairs and she would be sitting between the two, while the three of them watched TV or did their homework. She saw things I couldn’t and sometimes, did something about it. A few times, while The Baby was a senior in high school, Sammie would steal her cigarettes out of her purse and chew them up, leaving the evidence of remnants of the tobacco, paper and filters all over the house.

Too many times we take the love around us for granted. I wish we could love like our dogs love. They never need a greeting card, money or material objects to prove you love them. They want nothing in return. They want to be loved. Period. I want desperately to love like that. Being so excited and happy to see someone at the my front door, just for a hug or touch, and never to hold a grudge. The unconditional love of this little dog will be with us forever. I hope she is at peace now.

My Thumbs Are Getting Sore

I've come to posting this blog from my iPhone because I am too sore to go down 2 flights of stairs to the Mac. Sounds pathetic, but true. This is also the reason for this blog. Tonight I'm talking about Twitter. I began tweeting about a month ago. Holy shit! Talk about information overload! Luckily, the information coming across can be limited and you can catch up with others' tweets when you have more time to sit diwn and sort thru it. It looks easy, at first, but gets confusing quickly. The barrage if information almost had me wanting to stop using Twitter, until I began to control the flow. YouTube has just begun offering TV shows and movies - free of charge. We can already see music concerts here among other entertainment. Its not the best TV or movies yet, but moving in that direction very quickly. Books can be downloaded from iTunes. News from any source through Twitter. Newspapers around the world are ceasing to print. My iPhone keeps everyhing I used to use in itself. My calendar, cell phone, notebook, PalmPilot, iPod, maps and computer, plus much more are now all self contained in this thing. This puts a serious crunch into many businesses including the paper business, Blockbuster and all other video rental places, cable television, long distance companies, movie theatres, Federal Experss, and shopping at you favorite store - the list keeps growing. Hell, I remember Qwip machines, adding machines with a pull handle, typewriters, carbon paper and telephones with cords. This is freakin culture shock and some people don't know about or maybe dragging their feet a bit, but this is where it's going. There's no doubt now. Our televisions will become monitors (ours is already) and we will be hooking up a computer to watch our favorite shows or movies. I stayed up late, the night Ashton pulled his millionth follower on Twitter. With CNN as his top competitor and Anderson Cooper making it more of a race by asking people on his live show to follow CNN, Ashton quickly swung us all to his personal home office, live on the web. What a hoot! Telling us all what web site to watch the tallies come in, he had about 15,000 fans screaming right along with him. He's right. The web is where our society is moving to. The sources we choose to receive our news and entertainment is held in our hands and us portable where ever we go. The only thing I can not give up would be real interaction with people. Though the social networking phenomenon is awesome, (I've been able to find some of my cousins and old friends lately), it still can not replace the hug, conversation or seeing someone you love in person.

OMG!

I’ve tried to explain with words, but they failed me. I tried to explain with silence and use actions, but they have also been unsuccessful. I’m not sure what it will take for you to believe me. I almost feel guilty that I have it and you don’t. I used to wish I knew what it would take for you to turn the corner.

Please understand, I am not giving up. I just don’t feel it should be my responsibility any longer. Maybe this is bigger than anything I can do. Maybe you need to want it bad enough to believe it exists. Maybe this should be up to you, and not me. Apparently, the happiness I would feel would be amazing, but I need to take it off my shoulders. It needs to belong to you now. After all, when you own it, it will be yours - never to be taken away by any human - yours forever. I need to back away, and just hope you see it one day. It’s difficult to experience something so wonderful, and you stand on the sidelines watching.

I can not slice open my heart and show you, so you can see all of it. It has been done before, and one day you will see who did it. The I can not bear witness any better than what I have told you before. You see it, watching from the corner, but for some reason, are reluctant to reach out and grab what is yours. It is not just my opinion, but you’ve surrounded your life with people who are experiencing this same incredible experience. You have your own reasons, and no one can seem to pierce through your resistance. I’ve watched some of the magnificent beauty seep into you, but you find a way to stop it. You slough it off, as if it didn’t belong to you, yet the people around you are giving it to you directly.

So again, I will experience this incredible week. You will stand by at a distance, or looking over my shoulder. When I look at you, I see your deep thoughts. Please don’t pity me. You think I go through this week alone, but I’m far from alone. On the contrary, I have many people who stand by me, loving the same way I do, and three people, in particular, that will guide me again. I will listen intently to the quiet and feel secure, realizing how much love that has been given to me. Yes, me with all my faults and wickedness, the noise will evaporate out of my life, and the warmth will envelope me. I will store it again in my heart, trying hard to keep a part of it with me.

I know one day there will be peace for you. You have the hill to climb, but from the valley, you think the view is the same on the other side, or pretend you don’t see it. You’re wrong. When you reach the top, it’s more breathtaking than any words can describe. You hear beautiful sounds and the words poets have been chasing. All the things you never thought existed are on the other side. There is freedom and peace up there, and the path has already been made for you. It is up to you to decide to put one foot in front of the other and take the journey to the top. I still wish you could see what I see.

Deo dignus vindice nodus.

ON THE JOB TRAINING

Mothers take on so many more professions than being merely mothers. With many years of parenting, self educated women take on so much more than just being the Mom. Sometimes, women have a good example to start with - their own mother. There are others without an example of good mother, and learn along the way. After reviewing some personal memories and details of my current calendar, I am overwhelmed how much I have done with my kids.

Obviously, we first take on being a maid. Almost immediately, we are changing diapers and cleaning fluids from every orifice on the infant bodies. Over the years, the maid experience will get more intense, with being able to get out any type of stain from clothing, carpets and off walls. The mischief, not owned by us, has taken us to knowing every cleaning chemical on the market, how good they work, what works best, and for the least amount of money. For evidence, you can look under the kitchen sink of any good mother. This space is reserved for the mother/maid's solutions to make her the cleaner in that house.

Another additional career taken on is nurse. We can see when children are sick or feverish and on their way down for the count. An experienced mother can kiss a forehead and be more accurate than a thermometer. We know when a sick day is required, and we know when they're ready to throw up. It can be droopy eyes or a quiet look, and a mother/nurse can have the correct medicine in the little body before others nearby have a chance to think about it. The family doctor will only be called after we have tried everything in the well stocked medicine cabinet.

A job most mothers do not like is referee, especially if there are two or more children in the house. Sibling rivalry and egotism are natural emotions parents must contend with in children. Each child has a different personality, and each case varies from day to day. The experienced mother/referee must get to the bottom of the issue, differentiate the wrong from the right, the lies from the truth, and deem the appropriate penalty for the right party. This also coincides with our ability to be the kids' lawyer, when they need a voice at a teacher conference or with a bully in the neighborhood.

Another profession we take on is detective. This one takes years to master because as they grow, the kids get smarter. They try the same sin in a various amount of ways, thinking they can pull off their crime. With additional and advanced technology today, mothers are being tested in many different ways in their detective work. An experienced mother/detective can spot a lie on her child's face (and most other's children) .16 miles away or one city block. We can and will look in the kid's bedroom when they're away from the house. We will dig into the jeans pockets and peek into backpacks or book bags. We will check in their closets, and check the caller ID on any telephone. We will listen in, when they think we're doing dishes. We will call their friend's parents and double check with teachers. And if this wasn't enough information, we will ask them point blank questions and revert back to the lies found in their expressions. When they grow, we will check their cars, smell them, watch them, even from a distance. We can detect trouble in the quiver of their voices when they call us on the phone. We can see, hear or smell when something isn't right.

This above career brings us to the profession of warden. We are the disciplinarians too. We are the ones who set the rules for the "prison" and become the judge and jury when the laws are broken. The experienced mother/warden does the pacing, yells with anger and instills the punishment. The once delightful childhood themes in their rooms, turn to a jail cell when they are grounded or sent to bed early. We are the ones who will not allow them to watch television, get on the telephone or play with anything pleasurable when they have been disciplined. We are the bad guys.

After these two jobs, instantly brings in the spirital advisor. The experienced mother will discuss repercussion, apologetic behavior and retribution. We are the moms who will talk about better ways for the next choice in their lives. We share with them how unhappy they made Mom and Dad, and God, if necessary. We will try to show them the correct path and how being bad is much more difficult than being good.

The other profession is finance manager. We can manage the household budget, and in my case, a business also, for the past 17 years. We will pick up pennies in any parking lot, and let the children laugh about it. We know how much they make, can help them with their tax returns and question them about where they have spent their money. We know how much everything costs, such as movies, junk food and CDs, whether or not we use these items. As finance managers, we must share some personal financial information with them, like how much their insurance, groceries and utilities cost us. Not for the reason of sharing the expenses with them, but only to give them the education and information for later in their lives. Any wasteful habits of theirs are quickly pointed out. We are allowed to say "money doesn't grow on trees" for as long as it takes them to understand that money doesn't grow on trees.

Another career good mothers take on is cook. A good mother/cook can make a meal out of anything in her refrigerator and pantry and make it appealing. Some meals pulled out over the years are such a success, they are repeated. Even during lean times, a well balanced hot meal can still be had by a professional mother/cook. We have even come up with 28 decorated cupcakes, for a classroom party, with only 49 minutes of notification.

We are also amazing purchasing agents. We can buy anything, and with the right button pushed, can even put a sleazy mechanic in his place. Shopping for groceries, clothing and shoes is very simple, and a good mother/buyer can do this with her eyes closed. We will put a larger job, like painting the house, new roof or a new floor out for bids. We will mull over the papers and look at every sample available to us. We will telephone when work is not up to our expectations and, by using some of our other professions, will be able to tell if a contractor is lying, drunk or lazy. This career also leads us to being the decorator. We are the only ones in the house that can see the difference between eggshell, beige, and antique white, and other women understand this talent.

Other careers are taking place now that the children are on their own. Psychologist comes to mind immediately. Listening to in-law problems, career moves, time management issues, and how to be happy. It seems this profession is the most difficult. In the future, surely there will be more jobs to be learned.

So we combine all of these wonderful experiences of being a mother, and also include part time gardener, party planner, real estate agent, photographer, travel agent, researcher, censor, zookeeper and first rate negotiator. We also add our actual job/occupation, plus wife, sister, daughter, friend and partner. It becomes mind boggling. It's a wonder mothers actually have hobbies, as there seems to so little time leftover for anything else.

I love my children dearly and I would never trade my experience as a mother. Besides all of the awesome memories and their loving ways in my life, I've received many unexpected educations with essential on the job training.