After the Loving

The marriage encounter weekend was more than I could have ever imagined. There was so much that I learned and experienced, and I have to admit I did not go with an open mind. I was very skeptical. Even as the first couple started speaking I was wondering what I was doing there. I found out soon enough. I was doing something that I should be doing.

I think what I discovered was a deeper intimacy with my husband. Not sexual intimacy, but emotional intimacy. Suddenly all of the things we went through - any issue no matter how small or how large - just didn't matter. What mattered most was where we were. I realized that it was Brian's idea to go in the first place. He had no qualms about calling and setting things up for us. It really meant a lot to him as well.

Saturday night close to the wee hours of Sunday morning I sat up in bed and listened to my husband snore. It was comforting and it made me smile. With each intake of breath I knew he was alive, and as strange as it was, I knew that he loved me. If I got up from the bed he would stir and ask me if I was okay. How do I know, because he does it all the time. I can move and in his sleep he checks on me. Even in sleep I seem to be on his mind.

Sunday morning as I sat in our small cube on the twin bed we shared, I remembered someone from my past. I could almost see her in the room with me. Her name was Darlene Kellogg. She was an amazing woman and a great friend. She had two children, a boy and a girl. She was the one that sewed a lot of Sarah's clothes as a child - dresses complete with little pinafores, and she even sewed the first wedding dress for my sister, Kim.

Darlene was married to a hard working man, Earl. They seemed so loving and supportive of one another. But one day Darlene told me that Earl working nights was taking a toll on their marriage. They weren't able to spend a lot of time together. This coupled with the fact that Darlene's brother disappeared one night only to find him laying dead in a field several months later only put more of a strain on them, I'm sure.

I don't remember how Darlene and I grew apart. I'm sure it was my fault. I started going to college. I seemed to have lost track of a lot of my friends and neighbors for a while. Of course I was growing further apart from my husband at that time as well. Regardless of the reasons - more like excuses, I think - we lost touch.

Years later I discovered that Darlene had passed away. She and Earl had divorced. I admit I was surprised, but then I realized that everyone was surprised when I had divorced my first husband, Oscar. No one thought we had any problems. They didn't know about my crying at night alone or how we fussed over who was to blame for what petty thing. None of those things matter now, but then they seemed so important. "Little things matter."

Darlene, on this cold and snowy Sunday morning, made a difference in how I saw things. I had let a good friend go and I couldn't even think of a good reason why I would let that happen. I wasn't there for her when she more than likely could have used a good person to lean on. And maybe, just maybe, if she and Earl had given themselves an opportunity to try a weekend of rediscovery of each other they wouldn't have lost each other either. But that wasn't important, because I couldn't change the past.

What is important is I have control over what I do know now. I know that I am deeply in love with my husband. I know that I have some great friends and a wonderful life. I have been blessed and instead of sweating the small stuff I just need to trust that I'm not alone when I face them. I am at peace at this moment with the decisions I have made in my life. I have a renewal in the relationship with my husband and with my family. Life really is good.

So here is a little sappy song with lyrics so you can sing along. Give it a try. :)

Post Valentine's Day

Things around the house have been crazy.

The idea of having my sister's child with us didn't go as planned. All the expectations we had of moving forward and making a difference went flying out the window. It really is true that you can only help those that truly want to be helped. Some people, even children, seem to think that they way they think and behave is perfectly rational.

If anything good came out of it at all I think it is that she learned to appreciate where she was previously. That her adoptive mother wasn't being mean - she was being caring. When you are on the caring side of things sometimes it feels that people are picking on you. I learned that from experience.

The timing was bad as well. Coming right when I had to have my surgery and take care of things. She was the one that wanted to be the center of things. It's kind of hard to become the center when someone else is needing time to recuperate. Instead of just being able to heal, I had to put a lot of the focus and energy on her, but she didn't want 80% or even 90% - she needed 100% and it just wasn't possible.

The teenager's chest with chicken pox and eczema

Of course then the teenager contracted chicken pox, in spite of his inoculations. That combined with his eczema made him one pretty miserable young man. Then there was the unexpected birth of my first grandson; who is adorable, even if I do say so myself. He ended up in the NICU for about ten days. My daughter showed amazing fortitude during his delivery and through his recuperation. Of course things don't end there. The eleven year old now seems to have contracted something as well. It's like a never ending Winter Battle, but our spirits are still high.

I've given myself a goal now. Last night my husband and I went out for a Valentine's dinner. He didn't buy me chocolates, but he wrote me a poem. I think I got lucky. I don't need a chocolate heart, after all. The poem is wonderful and sentimental. He said something that struck me though. "I was going to write you a sestina, but it turned out to be more of a challenge than I anticipated." In husband talk this means that he didn't have enough time to whip one out. It would take a lot more concentration and time than he can actually put toward it.

His idea of writing is answering blogs. He can spend hours reading them and answering them for people. It's become a topic of ribbing by the boys to him. He even does it now on his Blackberry as we grocery shop. I'm waiting for the day that he looks up from his reading and discovers that we've all left him there.

However, now the idea of a sestina intrigues me. They can rhyme or not rhyme. They can be in iambic pentameter (the older ones were) or not. Each new rule you put to it will not only change the dynamics, but will make the writing more difficult.

Tomorrow I will post my first sestina. Hopefully it will be more inspiring then just a bunch of words that fit a form. I also want to get back to painting - go back to the gym - write more - and generally just take back my creative side of life that has been shelved with illnesses and recuperations.

So, let's get started.

Today I am sad

It is the people that you love most in the world that can actually hurt you. It's not that you expect them to hurt you or want them to hurt you, it's just that because you let them at your heart and they have access to it they have that ability. You don't want them to or expect them to either. This is where trust comes into play.

No one is a perfect person. We all have flaws and we all make mistakes. It is when the mistakes you made and the flaws you have embarrass you enough that you have to turn them onto someone else that shows you don't plan on correcting them. You merely justify them instead. This means, most of the time, that you have no remorse and you plan on making the same mistakes over and over again. Instead of owning to mistakes on one's life and twisting them to suit a tale more awarding to yourself shows that you are destined to repeat the faux pas of the past. Isn't it better to move forward?

My life has not ever been an easy one. I was abandoned by a father I never knew. Suffered at the hands of abusive people. I lost my natural mother as a child. My first sexual experience was rape. My first "true love" abandoned me. The list goes on.

But in spite of the negatives in my life I would prefer to focus on the positive. I graduated from high school and the university. I have beautiful children whom I adore. I am in love with my  husband. I have a nice home with pets I was never allowed to have as a child. I have family, including a step-mother who has taken me in like a birth mother, who share my life with me. I have friends-real friends, not fly by night friends.

There are times that I have felt broken. Thinking back the reason that I was in that position was about the people that I love and the hurt they could inflict. Some people may thing that giving up on love would be the safer bet. Keep the heart locked up and sealed tight. I disagree.

Perhaps it is easier to lock it up and save yourself from the lies the people that love you tell. They have their own reasons for doing so. You could block them and push them from you, but because you love them you just draw them closer. Why? Because maybe the lies they tell are really something else. Sometimes, yes, they are just being vicious and are undeserving. Most of the time, however, it's because they don't like themselves and they feel unworthy. In the case of one particular person I know, they changed history because their history was just too much for them to handle.

Still, it really does hurt and make you sad when someone you care about lies about you or twists things around to make them seem more favorable. It makes you wonder if they really care about you. I think this is what makes you sad. Thinking that someone you open yourself up to really hasn't opened themselves up to you in return. Then there is also the thought of why would they want to lie about or to someone they really care about?

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Some people are clueless

In youth, it was a way I had,
To do my best to please.
And change, with every passing lad
To suit his theories.

But now I know the things I know
And do the things I do,
And if you do not like me so,
To hell, my love, with you.

~Dorothy Parker

A woman who has met me once has decided that she knows all about me and has the right to make judgments. Most of her information came from two teenagers, one belonging to her, who have both admitted that they lied and exaggerated issues because they were upset they weren't getting their way. Of course to me, in a facebook message instead of direct communication, she insulted me regarding her child and how my decisions with mine affect their life. For instance, I should not call my child home for lying to me and not having done her chores. I should wait until she is finished doing whatever fun activities her child has planned because it's not fair for her child to be affected that way.
There is a weird logic in that. It is true that calling my child home for lying and not having her chores done does affect the plans they made with her child if she gets into trouble. However, allowing a child to get away with lying and not doing what they were specifically told to do is not a good example to set. If you lived by that rule your child would make sure they were always making plans with someone else. The rule is simple, you can go when your chores are done. How we discipline is really not of the concern of this other parent, nor is the way she disciplines in her home our concern.
In my home all the children have chores, even the ten year old. The funny thing is that none of the teenagers actually do their chores the way they are supposed to. The ten year old is the only one that voluntarily seems to do them. Each child is given an opportunity to have an allowance if their room is clean on payday. The only child that has actually managed to get his allowance is again, you guessed it, the ten year old. My 15 year old has been cleaning his room for months. If you listened to him you'd think that the items in his room were possessed because they somehow manage to make their way back down to the floor and it never looks any differently than before he started cleaning.
According to this woman we used our daughter as a Cinderella. We don't love her and we abuse her. Now these are horrible allegations from a woman that has never stepped one foot into our home nor ever taken ten minutes out of her time to actually speak with me. She lied to me one time to get our daughter off restriction because her son wanted to see her. I found out it was a lie, after saying we could make arrangements, and confronted her about lying to me. Since that day this woman has hated me. Evidently lying is okay in her book, and you never confront the person that lies to you. I never have worked that way.
The truth, according to my daughter, is that this same woman hates her. She calls her names such as "fat ass." She has insulted our family by calling us names. She has told my daughter that she's not good enough for her son. My daughter has come home from their home crying numerous times. After being in their home she yells at people and uses language that she knows is inappropriate, even in Wal-Mart, for which we have had to call her on. Her son has called her names, has allowed his friends to call her names. Being there makes her feel less about herself. So, we compromised. We told her that she was allowed to see the boy but was not allowed in his house. They could meet in other places where it was neutral territory such as the mall, go out to dinner, take some time to walk in the park, or even watch a movie.
Of course this was short lived, and again they lied. They went back to his home, which became evident, and the incidents started all over again. Verbal tirades over the phone in our home with screaming and cussing and crying.
There is only so much you can do as a parent. When a child gets to be within a couple of months of being 18 your hands become more tied. They make decisions that you don't agree with and that you can see are hurting them more and more. It breaks your heart. No parent wants to watch their child self-destruct.
The other mother says that I don't love my daughter. That is the farthest thing from the truth that she has ever said. I love my daughter enough to want to give her another chance to put things right in her life. I love my daughter enough to present her with opportunities to get away from vile and contemptuous statements made by ignorant people that prefer to say hateful things about her and then pretend they care.
Has our relationship with our daughter been tumultuous? Absolutely. We spent over a year in therapy. She was taken out of our home by the state because she was considered a danger to the younger children. She had things happen to her by her biological family that no child should have had to endure. She lashed out in ways that were very hard for anyone to take. She fell into bad habits that seemed impossible to break. We stuck it out through the years never giving up. She knows, because of this, that she is loved. She's told me so, that she pushed and pushed to make sure she was loved. It was never easy for any of us.
In the long run what a friend offered is to help give her a new opportunity to get out of the rut she has put herself in. To discover a place without a history or with people that know all the things that she's done. Somewhere she doesn't feel she's in competition and will feel needed.
According to this other woman, who either makes up things in her head or prefers lies over discovering the truth, our daughter is being "forced against her will" to go. However, an "anonymous" phone call to the police saying such things as we were abusing her and she was being shipped off against her will proved otherwise. The police, after speaking with our daughter, determined that she needed to get away from her situation with her boyfriend and never look back. He determined she was indeed in an abusive situation - with the boyfriend - and that a fresh start was just what she needed.
In the end, I could care less what this woman believes or feels. She has her own issues in her family including problems with her own children. I'm sure those take their own toll on her as well.
My concern is over my own child who has been through enough for two lifetimes. Did she lie to these people? Probably. Why would she lie? Because she wanted them to like her. Did it work? No. The boy I think genuinely cares for her though; he just had problems with knowing how to show it sometimes.
Bottom line is this - I am not perfect. I do not have all the answers. I make mistakes. But in the long run I will do whatever it takes to do what is best for my family and I will not be bullied by some clueless woman into thinking that I am a bad person and doing the wrong thing. I have great kids that are intelligent and have a lot of love in their hearts. We must have done something right.

Confessions of an Evony Addict

I started playing Evony II, not because of the busty women that were trying to entice players via cleavage, (I have enough of my own, thanks). It wasn't because I had too much time to kill during the day. Taking care of four children, a husband, and a house full of critters keeps a person pretty busy. It wasn't because I needed a game to play, I was already invested in some zoo game and was collecting animals. Looking back I have no idea what made me click that facebook button to start. Fate maybe?
The first day I played I started on server na13. I joined an alliance, the first one that I came to. I had no idea what I was doing and to this day I don't know why they accepted me. I certainly didn't fit their criteria for membership, having no prestige points. I just kind of slipped through the cracks. Then something amazing happened. I started chatting with people and I like them.
I have never been a chatter. I never went to chat rooms to find people. I had friends and family and have felt very fulfilled with my life. Looking back starting up conversations with random people wasn't my cup of tea. Yet here I was in the middle of a game I had never had any intention of playing and doing something I had never had an interest in doing. I found I loved being in the alliance and helping work with others to accomplish absolutely nothing worth accomplishing. It's a game, but I was having fun. These people were funny and full of life. They were real to me.
You've heard the old adage that "all good things must come to an end?" My life on na13 did as well. Some of us thought of it as a game, but I learned that others thought of it as their life. It's quite sad, really. One person in particular decide that he was the Tyrant of Evony. He was technically in charge of the alliance. Long story short he kind of broke us up and I ended up telling him off via mail. I killed off my cities there and was ready to leave.
One of my new found friends talked me into going to another server. We were going to start again. It wasn't the game as much as it was that we liked talking to one another. A third person followed. He told the others where we were and more came and joined us in our new home on na15. We made it an adult alliance due to the R rated conversations we have.
I have to admit that our conversations are entertaining. We share our lives and adventures with each other. We share dirty jokes, bad jokes, and jabs. We care about what happens to each other. We shared our facebook  pages with one another.
It's about the people. Yes, we play the game, but we found a place where most of us feel the same way about life. We support one another and we honestly care. Plus, we get to band together to kick butt. It's perfect.
I know that gaming is the problem in many relationships. I do not condone someone spending their lives playing a game and ignoring their families or responsibilities. Chatting should never be a substitute for one on one conversations. But for me these people I have met on Evony are my friends. They are people I would happily go and meet and have to my home.
Hello. My name is Pasty. I admit I am an Evony addict, but it's not the game I'm addicted to. It's the people.

* Update: Since writing this post I have quit playing Evony. I still have some of the friends I met on there and we converse on Facebook. But one should note: It is never okay to have a game get in the way of family life or spouses. Make sure that you don't let the game get in the way of actually living.

Surviving Thanksgiving

I truly must be a survivor. After going to Turkey and living through numerous taxi cab rides(in Turkey there are no speed limit signs, no one sees lane lines, stop light are not laws but merely recommendations, and traffic police are there only to collect money if they actually care about how you are driving, catching some kind of bug that my oldest daughter so kindly shared with me (thank you Sesame Street for "It's Nice to Share" idea that it gave to all my children growing up), and having five extra boys in the house and three extra girls in the house for our Thanksgiving holiday I realize I can survive almost anything. Even 2012.

My perplexity comes from our now 17 year old daughter whom decided that she didn't like having extra people in the house at all. She didn't even like having her paternal grandparents here. "It's not like they care at all about me," she said. My concern was that she spouted off with her grandfather standing directly in front of us.

Honestly I can understand how young boys might get on her nerves, not that they paid her much attention. They were loud and energetic, but that's how boys are supposed to be. However, I can't understand her disdain over her grandparents and her aunt. She was a bit miffed by the fact that her uncle couldn't remember her name, but hey, he's a guy. He's lucky to remember his own name at times, I'm sure.

I think what it boiled down to is that she wasn't the center of attention. She felt the boys were more important than she was. She also didn't like the fact that her grandmother brought up her natural mother and was talking about her. She hasn't acknowledged her in several years now and doesn't show signs of forgiving her for past transgressions yet. It's a very hard issue to come to terms with. I know several women that have "mother" problems that they never have gotten over.

I think it's tough being a teenage girl. You have all those hormones running rampant and no where to release them. You feel like you're lonely all the time even when people are in the house. No matter what you say you are misunderstood. You have to constantly watch what you wear and what you say. Boys, on the other hand, can pretty much wear whatever they want. If they don't shower and jump out of bed crumpled it's still cool. If a girl tries that they get snickered at all through the day and rumors start running rampant.

But after saving the cockatoo and giving him therapy after new boys came in and thought he was carnival shooting toy, the smaller dogs and the cat were relieved and came out of hiding, and finding dishes and food in very clever hiding places things are getting back to normal... or as normal as it ever gets here.

Honestly, I do miss Turkey. It was wonderful there. I miss the people, mostly. But I love being home with my family and friends. I enjoy being in a place where I can drive to the store at a reasonable speed and where I can mostly count on people stopping for a red light.

Now that the turkey has been downed, two birthdays are almost out of the way, and the kids are back to the school grind we can get ready for Christmas. (sigh) But at least we'll have most of our family together, and for me that's the bestest part of the holidays.

***Note: The picture is of our favorite taxi driver whom we fondly call Benjamin. His name is actually Ebu Bakir which I mistakenly heard as "Abel Baker." I told him he looked like a Benjamin and he said, "Okay. I'll be Benjamin." He's totally awesome... :) and can drive better than most race car drivers I've seen.

My Stay at the Rosemont Hotel O'Hare in Chicago

Sometimes when you travel you get lucky and find a diamond in the rough. Other times you just find the rough without the sparkle. Which did I find this time?

My daughter, Sarah, my youngest, Cian, and I took a trip yesterday to Chicago. In spite of the GPS's attempt to keep me from reaching our destination I prevailed. There seriously are times I believe that the woman in the GPS is trying to kill me. I need to remember to check and make sure she hasn't used the satellite systems to change the beneficiary on my insurance policy.

After a quick, but tasty, bypass to the White Castle for hamburgers we made it past the $2.50 tolls on roads that needed more work then the free ones we road upon in Wisconsin, we found the Rosemont. It's not the easiest place to get into, I must say. They have a lot of barriers up around the hotel, mostly to keep you from easily checking in or parking. However, if you want to make life easier for $28 you can have a valet park your car for you. Opting out of this you can drive around to park and pay only $18. Nice huh? Not really.

So, when you are finally able to park pray you haven't decided to bring too many bags for your stay. Why? Because you have anywhere from a block to a half a block walk to the lobby. At the check out the girl behind the counter, despite your previous preference when you booked your reservation and ignoring the fact that there are 3 of you in your party, will ask you if you would like a king bed room. When I told her that I had specified a double she replied with, "Well, I'm not allowed to presume." Okay. I didn't think that specifying my preference in advance and actually taking a few seconds to look at it was presuming, but maybe I learned something.

The hotel did have some nice amenities, such as the decor in the room. The rooms are spacious and well decorated. However, there is no complimentary coffee and the ice bucket is actually more like a glass bowl without a lid. They also do not believe in top sheets on the bed.

The hotel promotes wi fi, but in actuality it's available only as a "hot spot" which means you have to pay for it via Tmobile for another $8. There is also no free breakfast or donuts. They do have a menu available and you can purchase a cup of coffee for $8 a pot or $4 a cup. Stick with the water is my advice.

The beds are comfy in spite of the lack of top sheet. Not too hard, not too soft. But don't get too comfy. Even on Saturday the maids decide that a good time to bring out the vacuum and bang it against the wall to make sure no dust bunnies are hiding in the baseboards. If that doesn't wake you up don't be surprised if the maid doesn't knock on your door at 8:15 to make sure you don't want to go ahead and check out and have your room cleaned. Check out is supposed to be noon. But hey, you may want an early start, right?

If you call to ask the front desk if they really want you to leave or if they are just trying to get voted as the "Most Annoying Hotel," they will respond with "If you didn't want the maid to knock on your door, why didn't you put up the 'Do Not Disturb' sign?" Wow. Maybe because they never told me this was necessary at the Hilton or the Holiday Inn. Shame on them. I responded with, "Would that have kept them from vacuuming and hitting the walls at 7:30?"

It's not all bad, honestly. They do have a nice LG large screen tv complete with cable. They have a swimming pool and a sauna, but no hot tub. They also have plenty of running hot water.

All in all I would have to say that it's not likely I'll stay here again, despite the cute decor.

My Favorite Imo

I absolutely love learning about different cultures. One of the main reasons could be because of my background. My biological mother came here from Italy and passed away when I was 9. I still miss her. My father remarried when I was 10 to my present mother, whom is Korean, and one of the most remarkable women anyone could ever know.

Needless to say my background was fraught with difficulties and complications that could fill a novel. Most people would swear I had to be lying. However, it is what it is and it made me who I am. Though I would never wish what I lived through on anyone else difficulties made me stronger.

This morning I was thinking about my Imo Moon Ja. When I was a young girl I thought she was one of the most beautiful people I had ever met. She had the kindest soul and the most upbeat spirit. Yet often times she was sad.

In Seoul she had been a professor of Korean at the university. In the US she was nothing more than another person coming to the US trying to fit in. I remember her crying one night saying that people in the US treated her as if she were stupid because she wasn't proficient in English. They felt that because she couldn't express herself in English that she had to be ignorant and treated her that way. She was not happy. I know that Imo Moon Ja was far from stupid. She had a world of knowledge tucked away in her brain. In reality it was those that couldn't see or understand the intelligence that was there that were lacking in brain power.

Imo used to spend a lot of time with me. She would teach me Korean words and gave me a Korean name. She was very energetic and loving. I knew that when she married my Uncle P.D., who was also Korean as well as a very gifted artist, that they would have wonderfully brilliant children. I was right. They had three, two girls and a boy.

I was sad when they all moved to Seattle. I would truly miss her. Uncle P.D. had created beautiful works of art and had a showing in the Corcoran Gallery of Art in DC. He was well read and was headed for greatness. His talent is what inspired me to start painting.

Sadly not long after they left Uncle PD passed away. Imo Moon Ja did not take it well. It was like part of her soul had been ripped away. She came back to stay with us for a while. I wanted so much to take away her pain, but no one could. I remember laying with her sometimes trying to comfort her. She had literally lost a part of herself. I think her saving grace was having her children. But life for her from then on was going to be turbulent and hard. She persevered.

Her ability to overcome every obstacle she came across is what has inspired me in my own life. Because of Imo Moon Ja I know that regardless of what happens we can make it in life. Even when the worst possible thing might happen you can move on.

Imo Moon Ja never remarried, but she devoted everything she had into raising her children. I think it's paid off. They are all gifted, charming, and successful. Each one has her heart of gold. They all love her completely and understand her little idiosyncrasies.

Imo Moon Ja was a major factor in how I grew up and how I saw the world.

So, Imo, kamsahamnida. Saranghae.

Disciplining Your Kids - I'll Do It Myself, Thank You.

I remember shopping one day when my now adult daughter was very little. We were in line and she tried to stand up in the cart. I told her to sit down. The woman behind me proceeded to tell me that I didn't deserve to have children. Children, in her opinion, shouldn't be doing something wrong to start with to need disciplining in public. At that time it stung. I was a young mother and I had problems having children to begin with. I was never certain if I would ever be able to have children. Was I doing something wrong? No. I have wonderful children. My older ones are successful and happy. My younger ones are intelligent and well mannered. What else could a parent want?

Today a man in Georgia was arraigned with felony charges because he believed that he could discipline a two year old more effectively then the mother of the child. The child in question was crying and screaming in Wal-Mart. The man told the mother, "If you don't shut the baby up, I will shut her up for you." The mother went to the next aisle, but the man came and slapped the child across the face four times. At that point he said, "See, I told you I'd shut her up."

One of the other patrons stopped the man and held him while security came and the police were called. At this point the man apologized to the mother for striking her child.

We all have seen the weepy, crying, and fit throwing child at the store. I didn't have problems with my children screaming because they couldn't have something at the store, but I did have times when, as babies, they would cry. Babies cry for various reasons - needing a change, being hungry, being tired, or just being grumpy or feeling poorly. It is something all parents have to deal with at some time. No one is immune to the sound of children crying unless they are deaf.

It would have been best if the man, evidently grumpy himself, had just left the store to contain himself and his anger. Wal-Mart, after all, is a family store. He had no right to strike a child, especially one that had no connection to him.

When we see crying children at the store my boys and I usually try smiling and talking to them. Most of the time the child stops. I've found that most small children do not enjoy the shopping experience for long periods of time. Even if you gave them a credit card they'd more than likely drool over it, gum it, and then throw it down. Shopping for babies is not usually stimulating. But parents have the right to shop, to take their children shopping, and to deal with behavior problems in their own way.

So, to the culprit in question, Mr. Roger Stephens of Georgia, get over your bad self. Take some time in jail and make a few license plates. Maybe when you get out you'll have learned the lesson of tolerance.

Life and Our Expectations

There are so many things that I still want to do in life. It seems that I don't have enough time for a lot of it, but how much time do I actually waste? I don't think I want to look at the answer to that question. But if I'm spending that time being me, is the time really wasted? I don't know if I want to answer that one either.

A young mother last night said the same thing, just about. She said, "I'm almost thirty and I see time slipping away. There are so many things I still want to do and I don't feel I'm living up to my potential." She has four small children, a sick husband, and a full time job. Amazing. I find her inspiring that she can manage all that she does and still make time for friends. But in her perspective she feels that she isn't doing enough and isn't doing all that she wants to do.

On the other hand I know people that sit around and complain about not having enough in life. They complain about their jobs, the way their life is going, how their children treat them, their disatisfaction with their relationships, and so on. When you tell them to make changes they just don't want to or say they can't. But, honestly, everyone can make changes. It's that they don't want to. A lot of people fear change. They like knowing what is going to happen even if what is happening is bad, because at least they they feel as if they have some control.

I don't desire to be a super star. I do desire to be the best that I can be. If I feel as if I'm accomplished in my small part of the world I've done something. I've become someone. It's not the measure of everyone else in the world that matters, it's the measure we give ourselves.

My children think I'm wonderful. My husband likes being with me and supports me in everything I do. My family adores me and they tell me every day. I've done something right here, and that says a lot.

So what if we struggle to pay the bills or if we can't afford to go on a European Cruise? We have something here that some people don't and no matter how much time and effort they put into being successful and popular and rich they won't be able to buy it. Success isn't measured by how much money you have - it's measured by how much happiness you have in your life.

My Nuclear Family

Every day I watch as my boys play with their father and am so grateful that they all love each other so much. It's a wonderful and amazing thing, even when they get a little carried away and you have to start moving expensive things to keep them from becoming victims of masculine horseplay.

Looking at the boys and their father no one would guess that one of them was not his biological child. Nothing he says or does shows a difference between the boys. I don't believe in my heart that he actually thinks of one as his step-son, but honestly loves him just as much as if he shared his DNA. In our family we believe that heart plays a much more important role than blood because heart is what you need in order to make a family successful.

I love my husband, not just because he has this remarkable way of giving all of us the love and support that we need, but because he loves fully and honestly. When someone says that his boys look just like him he smiles with great pride. He's amazing.

Things you Learn on Television

Hello, my name is Pasty and I'm addicted to Battle Star Galacticca.

I am sad that the series is over. I have hopes that the new series they are starting, Caprica, will keep me entertained, but I am not going so high up in my hopes that I'll fall and break both legs. I think that BSG was a great and innovative show and it didn't disappoint me.

One line in the final show got to me. Ellen is speaking with Ty and says, "I only want to be with you. I don't care if we had to live in a box."

It says a lot, especially in these harsh economic times. How many of us would live in a box and be happy? So, I thought about it. I could do it if I had my family with me and we were living together. I could go back to having nothing and move back up in life. What I have in my home is comfort, but they are things. Things are nice, but they aren't what are really important in life.

So, thanks Ellen and the writers of BSG. I'll miss you.

Words Matter, But Heart Counts

I know that my Daddy loved me. He didn't have to; after all I wasn't his daughter through genetics, but by choice. He kept me with him even after my mother passed away. He never failed to tell me he loved me through his way of keeping me and taking care of me. A day didn't go by when I wasn't thankful to have a place to live with people that I knew cared about me.

It was a year after my mother died that he remarried. The woman was beautiful both inside and out. She didn't even balk about having a child from a previous marriage that wasn't his by blood. She treated me as her daughter from the time she walked into our home and to this very day.

I think one of my fondest memories was when I was leaving to go and visit my older sister and she said the words, "I love you, Pasty." I cried. Not because I was sad or unhappy that she cared for me, but because I knew exactly how much it took for her to say those words, and that she wouldn't have said them if she didn't mean them.

I learned a lot, I think, from the relationships I had with my parents. It was because of them that I found that it's not the blood that matters in a family but the heart.

So, in the spirit of those that taught me to love I try to extend that to my own children. My 16 year old may not be mine by blood but she is mine by heart. Like all of us she has her faults, but she fights them with anger and frustrations which cause her more harm then good.

I have faith that in the long run she'll learn to control those emotions. She actually took the time tonight to sit with me and discuss things. She listened. I'll have to say that it shows quite a bit of maturity for a 16 year old to actually take the time to hear what their mother has to say and actually think of ways to implement the ideas they give.

I can't take the credit. I had very good teachers.

So, thank you to all those people that take children in and love them. Take it from someone who knows - it makes a world of difference.

Wearing of the Green

I think that my family believes that I love St. Patrick's Day because it allows me to wear green without anyone making comments about my color obsession. I think there is more to it then that, honestly. It is a time that we have created where my family gets together and share traditions without all the hoopla and mania that other holidays seem to bring about. We don't have to shop for gifts or cards. We don't have to make sure that no one feels left out. We just are allowed to be together and share our time with one another. Of course bangers, corned beef and cabbage, and colcannon don't hurt the spirit either.

This year my favorite part of the day was sharing it with my oldest daughter. She was married last year and doesn't live that far from me. It's rare if we don't speak during the day, and yet it's not the same as when she lived inside the home. It's actually better. Not because she doesn't live here, but because she's reaching out to me more. It's funny how that works.

She actually called me and said, "Mom, you know how when I was younger we used to go and buy a birthday outfit for me? I'd like to do that this year. I miss doing that." (Her birthday is on March 19 and we do the family celebration on St. Patrick's Day.)

Now, some suspicious people might think she just wanted to get something from me, but I know better. She didn't ask me to buy her anything, I volunteered. We had lunch together, did the shopping, and just shared our entire day. It's a memory that means a lot to me and that I'll never forget.

It doesn't matter if your children grow up and become adults, because they are always your children. Their little faces lose the Cherub style and grow into something just as beautiful, if you're lucky. I'm very lucky. I do have beautiful children; from their faces into the very core of their hearts.

So, it may be a little early to actually drink, but I raise my virtual Irish beer and make a cheer for all:

May you never run out of good friends;
May your coffers never completely be empty of coin;
May your table always have enough to feed the ones you love;
And may you always be able to raise your drink in celebration of a good life.

Sláinte!

It doesn't get better than this.

Today was freezing and snowy. The streets were slick, yet filled with brave drivers daring the snow to try to keep them homebound.

Sleep deprived I was one that ventured into the white mass of slippery chill with my best friend, Brenda, who was not to be daunted by freezing temperatures and invisible streets. Her heart was set on getting a Wii Fit, which are evidently hard to find here. She was so intent on this task that she was willing to drive 60 miles round trip to make the acquisition to Wal-Mart in Berlin, Wisconsin. The only faux pas we had was in Oshkosh on the return home when the car decided to careen into a curb. The curb won.

After finally making it home I decided to take the boys and the hubby out to a movie. The theater in Menasha has cheap seats and food. The food isn't the greatest, but it's not the worse either. A waitress actually comes and brings food to you so that you don't have to miss the movie.

We watched "Bedtime Stories," which turned out to be cute, much to my surprise. However the best part of the movie was snuggling next to my husband and listening to the boys snigger at the funny parts.

In spite of the cold outside, the moment was very warm and makes one forget the chill of the night.