I Remember...

The alarm went off - it was set to the radio. A man was talking about something weird. Some plane hitting the World Trade Center... must be one of those War of the Worlds things. I hit the snooze button and rolled over. 9 minutes later, the same man was still talking about the "tragic accident". It sinks in. I get up, shake Tim awake while I'm turning on the TV. "Honey, something's wrong in New York City... a plane crashed or something, get up." I'm not a news watcher - I don't like hearing about all the tragedy that happens in the world every day. But I just knew this was... bigger. I knew something was wrong. I didn't have to channel surf. It was on all of them. We were watching for less than 3 minutes when the 2nd plane hit the South Tower. That's when it dawned on the general public what had been known for less than 20 minutes by the FAA and the Air Force. These were not accidents. They were attacks. And they were only half the story.

Tim had recently moved to Maryland. He was interviewing around the DC area for a job. I had an inkling of the repercussions this attack would have. After I had regained my speech, blinked away the first tears and dropped my hands from my mouth to my lap, I took his hand and told him he was going to take the first job offered him. When I couldn't wrap my mind around the unthinkable, self preservation took over. But not for long. Another plane hits the Pentagon. It was like a bad movie unfolding in real time. The South Tower collapses... the heroic souls aboard flight 93 sacrifice their lives to prevent the possible deaths of hundreds more... the North Tower collapses... In one hour and 37 minutes, our lives are forever changed. All of our lives. Some more than others. But irrevocably changed.

My father's machine shop was located off Route 4 in New Jersey, 20 minutes outside of NYC. They could see the smoke from the parking lot. Route 4 turned into a parking lot. Emergency vehicles raced into the city, waiting for... nothing. No one above the impact of the planes survived. When I asked my brother, later, what the city looked like, he said, "It looks like NYC got her two front teeth knocked out."

I have a student that was compelled to travel to NYC that morning to help in any way he could. He made it pretty far up the NJ Turnpike before he had to park his car and walk. Over 30 miles, as I recall. He worked for days in the city, looking. For anyone. He said he is forever changed - altered - by what he saw there. I will spare you the details. Part of me wishes I could forget them, myself.

Why am I going through the details of that day? Why do I feel it necessary to remember, as vividly as I can, every year? Because our memories are short. Time moves on - I've gotten married and had two wonderful children in the past ten years - and the normality of our lives reasserts itself. We try to push horrific memories to the back of our minds. It is our nature as human beings to try to forget. But this event... we cannot.

My heart breaks for the 2,998 people that were killed that day. For the families that lost integral parts that day. Mothers, fathers, daughters, sons, husbands, wives, sisters and brothers... Gone. We must never forget them.

There are crazy people in this world. People who are jealous of the freedom we, as Americans, enjoy. Revel in. And take for granted. People who think we are arrogant. Too full of pride. And they want to take it away from us. They failed. If we remember... they will never succeed.

As I sit here looking at the beautiful and precious life that is my 8 month old daughter, and listen to my 7 year old son playing cheerfully outside, I send a prayer to all the families effected by 9/11. I pray for the ones that are safe in God's hands, and for the ones that were left behind. I pray for and thank God every day for the men and women who put themselves in harms way for me and mine, so that I can continue to revel in the privilege and honor of being American. Fire fighters, police officers, paramedics, soldiers... you all have my eternal gratitude. THANK YOU for keeping my babies safe. I will always remember...

"A great people has been moved to defend a great nation. Terrorist attacks can shake the foundations of our biggest buildings, but they cannot touch the foundation of America. These acts shattered steel, but they cannot dent the steel of American resolve. America was targeted for attack because we're the brightest beacon for freedom and opportunity in the world. And no one will keep that light from shining. Today, our nation saw evil, the very worst of human nature. And we responded with the best of America — with the daring of our rescue workers, with the caring for strangers and neighbors who came to give blood and help in any way they could." ~President George W. Bush, September 11, 2001

Life Marches On...

The biggest news in my life at the moment is that we are finally expecting baby #2! It's been a long time coming, for many different reasons. But the new addition should be here by Christmas Eve. And feeling this little life squirming inside my belly makes me remember being preggo with Connor, and how much I both loved and hated it.

We'll start with the "loved" part. The thing I love the most about being pregnant is feeling the life growing inside of you. This time around, I was majorly impatient to finally feel movement - which I did, around 16 weeks or so, because this time I knew what I was feeling. I loved dreaming of my baby, and what he would look like... what he would sound like... I couldn't wait to meet him. I loved the extra bond that my husband and I suddenly shared. And I loved that I was finally going to be part of the "club."

The rest? I hated it. I had Connor in September, so I was hot, swollen, tired and perpetually uncomfortable. I'm a stomach sleeper, so once I couldn't do that, anymore, sleeping became almost impossible. Even if I didn't have to get up every 5 minutes to pee. Needless to say, I was not a very good pregnant person.

I vowed that would be different this time. Silly me, I always forget that God has a sense of humor! Although I had a very boring pregnancy with Connor - no morning sickness, no constipation, no excess gas, no heartburn to speak of, etc. - I am having quite an exciting one with this Peanut. I have had all of the above at varying degrees. Yes, God is testing my resolve to be a good pregnant person. But I'm still trying! I'm pretty darn sure this is our last hurrah (my husband is 150% sure), so I want to enjoy it. I try not to be impatient, irritated, moody... but it's all in the hormones, I think. But I am enjoying the whole pregnancy experience more, I think.

We get to find out the sex in 2 weeks, something I didn't want to do the first time until my husband convinced me. I'm glad we did, and I'm excited about doing it this time. More decorating and buying! =D There's so much to look forward to, and in all the determinedness not to rush, it's starting to seem like it's flying by. December will be here before I know it, and so will our new bundle of joy. So, stay tuned.... it's bound to be an exciting ride...

Silliness

In the world today, out in public, what are the two most controversial subjects you can touch upon? The ones that normally incite all sorts of rage and horrible behavior? You got it - politics and religion. Now, I am a raging conservative and practicing Catholic - not that those two necessarily go hand-in-hand - and proud of it. I believe in God, country and family, and that you should take care of your own. I believe we live in the greatest country in the world, and if you have issues with it, you should work for change, move or shut up. I believe that actually working for a living is not optional, and that stay-at-homes Mom's (a HUGE job, by the way) are a gift from God. Although I believe that women are equal in every way to men, I would never call myself a "feminist". I believe that Dr. Laura has it right when she calls N.O.W. the National Organization of I-don't-know-what-kind-of-Women. I have such an immense respect for my military men and women that their dedication and sacrifices for my freedom and yours brings a tear to my eye. I believe that God is my guide in this world He created. I believe he has a hand in all that happens to us. I believe He can be anyone's savior - if He is allowed. I could go on forever. Yes, I am a raging conservative.

I just as strongly believe in one of the founding beliefs of our country - freedom of speech. Do I think some people should refrain from speaking so as not to showcase their lack of IQ for the world to see? Of course! Don't we all? Isn't that the beauty of this country, though? That we can speak what we believe, no matter our race, creed, color or gender? I do not begrudge anyone their ideas and beliefs, regardless of whether or not I agree. I have had many wonderful, insightful and stimulating conversations with people on the opposite side of my fence. But I never get angry. Because there is no point to it. Anger should be reserved true injustices, not for people who simply think differently.

What is not okay is this silliness that goes on in our government, news and even everyday life. Mudslinging at any level is classless and tasteless. It makes the person slinging look bad, not the opposition. Getting in someones face and yelling solves nothing. Looking like a raving lunatic solves nothing. And if you look around... there is no party, organization or religion that is guiltless of those types of actions. And it's asinine.

Passion for what you believe in is a wonderful thing. But be careful you don't cross the line into the silliness that is so prevalent these days. If your argument truly has meat, you wouldn't have to resort to Kindergarten tactics. My Kindergartner crosses his arms, stomps his feet, pouts and yells when he doesn't get his way. At which point, by the way, my conservative self tells him to take his attitude to his room, because it's not acceptable in public. And, guess what? It doesn't happen very often. So, if you're going to act like a Kindergartner, maybe you should be treated like one. I think that many of our leaders would do well with some time in their rooms, or perhaps a spanking or two. Actually, scratch that last idea... some of them might like it too much.

The point? I really don't care what you believe. I care whether or not you're a decent human being, and whether or not you treat the people around you - ALL OF THEM, kids, adults, elderly, from trash collectors to CEO's - with dignity and respect. If you discover that my beliefs differ from yours, you are more than welcome to have an intelligent, grown-up conversation with me about them. I will not call your beliefs and ideas stupid, and I expect the same respect in return. The minute those guidelines are deviated from... our conversation would be over. And I strongly encourage everyone to adopt the same attitude. It's much more effective than the alternatives.

It Starts...

So, I blogged a while ago about my struggles with my weight, and my internal efforts to fix ma-self. Along with some external things to help. Well, here's an update.

The short of it? I've lost 17 pounds in the past 2 months! Woot! I have pants that aren't fitting anymore (even though I wear them anyway, 'cause it makes me grin when I have to pull them up. So what if I have droopy drawers for a while?). And, more importantly, I have pants that are fitting again! I've lost an overall 5+ inches. I just wish that more of the 5 had been in my boobs, but oh, well... I guess that will follow. Or, at least, I hope it will. As a typical example of "the grass is always greener", I wish my boobs were smaller. My husband does not share my opinion, shockingly enough.

Anyway... all this is because of an amazing woman I met in December, at a random direct marketing event. You know the type - a home party thingy, but this one had 5 or 6 distributors. (My favorite was the chocolate lady!) So, this lady is a nutritionist and personal trainer, and she came up with an amazing program that doesn't just focus on one or 2 aspects of health, but ALL of them. I'd tell you more, but the program is in it's pilot state, and I promised I wouldn't let the cat out of the bag. What I will tell you is that this is like nothing I have ever done. I have an understanding of myself and my body and it's needs that I've never had before. For the first time in my recent memory... I know to the core of my being that this is no longer a big deal, and I can do this.

So, by this summer, I should be able to go to the pool with my kiddo without feeling so self-conscious! Yay! Stay tuned... I might even give you my weight one of these days. Well, ok... maybe not. :) But I will eventually give you pictures, and you can feel free to guess at it. ;)

My Kid's Having Surgery... AGAIN

In March of this year, Connor had to have his ears tubed because he had enough fluid built up in them that he was not hearing well. We tried a few times with medication to get the fluid to drain, but, alas, it didn't work. So, surgery it was. And it will be surgery, again, next week, but let me give you a little background and a little advice, if you have a kiddo that needs minor surgery (God forbid).

~ He got his first ear infection when he was 4 months old.
~ He's had 2-4 ear infections (usually in both ears) every winter since birth.
~ He is ALWAYS congested in the winter time.
~ This junk has also caused a couple of sinus infections. Joy.
~ He got a "borderline" score on his hearing at his 4-year-old check up. Which, by the way, the pediatrician didn't tell me about because his hearing was "still within normal limits". I was a wee bit peeved when I discovered that.
~ He failed the hearing test at his Preschool in the fall of '08. Well, failed one ear, another borderline score on the other.
~ He got the surgery (after some attempts at ear drops and medication) in March of '09.
~ Sometime between then and now, he had a growth spurt, and forced the tubes out of position, thus allowing fluid to come back into his ears, get backed up, stuff him up, and cause yet another double ear infection. Yay.
~ This time, surgery will involve not only replacing the tubes, but also removing his adenoids. Oh, and it has to be done before he gets on a plane for Miami on the 23rd. Planes are bad for fluid filled ears. :::sigh:::

As far as surgery goes, it was definitely harder on me than on Connor. I was a wreck. Ask my Mom, she'll tell you! But, in the end, it was truly not a big deal. We have a fabulous ENT, the surgery center was nice, and the anesthesiologist was a rock star. Connor loved him, and so did I. I hope he's the one to do the next surgery!

The day was pretty easy... show up at 6:30am (ugh!), surgery at 7:30. Connor got some Tylenol with Codeine to start the day (ain't that great on an empty stomach!), and that's when we met the anesthesiologist. He had us all giggling, and Connor at ease. Told my kiddo he was going to get to go into a room like a spaceship, with all sorts of cool machines, and that he was even going to get to wear a "space mask". That would be the gas mask. :) Connor was actually cheering and excited to go into the OR. Like I said... the man was a rock star.

Despite the fact that I had about a dozen people tell me not to be the one to go into the OR with Connor and hold him while he was gassed (something I really wish I could do at home, sometimes!), I always prefer to know what's going on. Remember, I am the chick that insisted on witnessing her own knee surgery. So, I feel better seeing it, and I stand by that, still. If Tim will let me, I'll be the one to go in, again. So, turns out he didn't really like the "space mask". It "smell[ed] yucky, Mommy!" He struggled, but the resident rock star said that was actually better - they breathe more heavily when they struggle, therefor inhale more of the gas faster and get knocked right out. As was the case with Connor. And, as I was holding him, I did catch a whiff of the gas, and he was totally right. The stuff was really stinky.

The surgery took maybe 20 minutes. And another 20 minutes or so after that, we got to go in to see him wake up and have a popsicle. Boy, he loved having that for breakfast! He was a little punchy for an hour or so, but by lunchtime, it was like nothing had even happened. Now, the Doc tells me that this time, with taking out his adenoids, the recovery time will be longer - 24 hours or so. But still, not too bad. And at least this time I know what I'm dealing with.

So, anyway, a week from Friday, we will be going round the roller coaster once again. For any of you that might have a kid and you're wondering what the signs are of this joyous problem, I assure you - your kid, like mine, may not exhibit the "typical" signs of ear issues. Here's a list of what didn't occur with my son:

~ Complaining of ear pain. Not even once. Not a peep, even when the doc said he should be screaming.
~ Tugging at his ears. Again, no. Your ears get irritated when they're infected, thus the tugging. It's almost like trying to scratch an itch. But, not a single tug that I ever caught from my kiddo.
~ Poking into his ears. Again, like trying to scratch an itch. And, nope. No poking, here.
~ Fever. Only a couple of times out of about 15-20 thus far. He must take after my grandfather. The man would walk around with strep and zero throat pain. Anomalies, the both of them.
~ A change in behavior/attitude. Nope. Almost always his usual, chipper self. The exceptions? The couple of times he did actually spike a fever.

What did occur? Major congestion, hearing loss (from the fluid), and a cough. Sounds like a head cold, doesn't it? That's what I thought for the first year of his life. Then, I got into the habit of bringing him in to the doc if he was stuffed up for more than a few days, because I just knew it would turn into an infection.

So, I hope modern technology will come to the rescue on the second attempt, and rid my kid of these nasty problems. Keep your fingers crossed, and I'll update you as soon as it's over and we're safely in Miami. Which, I'm sure, will give me yet another story to tell. :)

Merry Christmas!

Peace

You know, as I get older, peace seems to be harder to come by. And I mean both the inner AND the outer kind! In some ways, it would be so much easier to go back to times when I didn't have any responsibility to speak of. Of course, back then I thought there was no peace, either.

What is peace, really? Well... I think it's different for everyone. People find peace in all sort of places. I find outer peace at home... when Connor is in school, of course. When he's home - the only outer peace I get is when he's asleep. And, for some reason, I desperately want another kid! I also find outer peace out in nature. But as I prefer to share things like that with my loved ones, I don't get that very much, anymore. Tim is allergic to the outside world, and bugs absolutely adore his blood. I can't say I blame them... he is very sweet! :::insert your gagging noises, here:::

Inner peace is a harder animal to find. And the road to it is constantly forking and winding. Right now, for me, inner peace means financial stability first. And we're finally getting to that. But you always seem to have to make sacrifices to find inner peace, and for us, getting financial stability was no exception. So, what sacrifices will have to be made for me to get to the next on my list of peaceful inner things? Good Lord, I haven't a clue. See... the next part of finding my own personal peace to to fix me. lol The outer me. Fix the outer me to find inner peace.

My entire life, I have struggled with my weight. Not to the extent that some have, certainly, but I'm not sure my inner stress is any different. Although I consider myself fat at the moment, I am by no stretch morbidly obese. And there are some who would feel they even have to argue the "fat" part. But, trust me... I'm fat. I feel kinda gross. I used to weigh 128 pounds and wear a size 5. I am now around 200 pounds (pretty sure... I tend to avoid the scale whenever possible) and wear a size 14 (ok... maybe 16). I used to be able to kick straight up. Now, I'm working to kick head level. And not because my flexibility is less - because the dang fat rolls are in the way. So, why haven't I fixed it? Well... I go back to the whole inner peace thing.

If you go look in the dictionary, I'm sure there will be a picture of me (possibly a family portrait, actually) under "emotional eater". I feed my stress. Yum! Nothing tastes better than crap when you're stressed out! My husband, on the other hand, starves his stress. Were but I to have that problem! So, over the last couple of years, as we've been majorly stressed about money, I've gained a stoopid amount of weight, and he's lost it. Tim, who was already slender, got down to an emaciated-looking 125 pounds. For a man that's 5'8", it's not nearly as healthy looking a weight as a 5'4" woman. In the last couple of months, as our financial outlook in drastically improving, Tim has gained 13 pounds, joined a gym, and has enlisted the help of an amazing personal trainer. And he's excited about it! He gets up to go to the gym at 5:30 in the morning. And he's NOT a morning guy. Because his newfound inner peace about money is motivating him to find inner peace about his outer self. So... what's my problem? Why don't I want to go to the gym, too? Why don't I want to work out with this trainer? (By the way, the trainer was mine, first... a friend introduced me, and I worked out with him for a year. He helped me feel good and loose some weight. Mostly in the posterior region...) Where's my motivation? I have no idea. If you find it, please return it.

So, I'm trying a tack I've never really tried before. I've always been an athlete. Right now, I'm a mush. I used to dress presentably. I now wear mostly sweats. So, I'm changing some small things about myself to help me get the motivation I need to change the big things. As a "fat girl", I just don't feel attractive. So, what can I do to fix that? I've been wearing make-up everyday. That's seriously new. I bought a few pair of very pretty, simple, inexpensive earrings to wear. Also new. I got my hair done in a way that's easy and - imho - very flattering and pretty. Highlights and all. Bought a couple of pair of new, nice jeans that fit. And the really new thing? I got ma nails done. I feel like such a girl... and I think it's working. I'm starting to feel like a pretty girl, and pretty girls don't eat crap. They don't binge on cookies (I have a box of those fabulous Costco cookies in my pantry that normally would have been gone in a few days - it's been there for about 2 weeks, and it's half full. I think I only had 2), eat at the fast food places because they are there (ok, I did that today, but I'm a work in progress!) and they actually cook a decent dinner. Every day. And I've actually been doing that! I'm not sure it's habit, yet, but I'm even starting to get fired up about cooking. And... I'm not a chef, believe me. Pasta and perogies, that's me. But I find myself, because I'm changing seemingly frivolous things, getting to the hard stuff.

I'm changing the outside, first. I've always tried to do it the other way. But I now realize that if you look like crap, you're not inclined to do anything but feel like crap. As I look better on the outside, I really am starting to feel better on the inside, and get closer to the inner peace I want. And I think I deserve. So, we'll see how it goes!

And, I'll tell you a secret... I actually LOVE the silly nails!

Why Do People DO That?

So... there have been many times in my life that I haven't understood people's actions. Some people loose it on the server at a restaurant because their food came out wrong, or late or whatever. Some people let friends or loved ones just slip out of their life. Some people lie, cheat or steal. Why? Maybe I'm naive or idealistic... but I just don't get it! Truly, it's not that hard to live an honest life.

It seems that, lately, I'm constantly surrounded by new drama. Even old drama has come back around. But at least I have some perspective on that. I have had people in my life that swear up and down that I'm like family. Then, when it's no longer easy, I'm just dust in the wind. Out of sight, out of mind, I guess. I have gained time and perspective on people that I have truly adored, idolized and looked to for example, only to find out that really, the talk isn't walked. I have seen people that I knew... people that I once called friends... turn out to be child molesters. And I have seen people that teach honesty and integrity abuse and cheat on their spouses. And I just... don't... GET IT.

Is it really so hard to walk the talk? I mean, come on. If you preach to the people around you to tell the truth, tell it yourself. Is the truth harder sometimes? Oh, heck yeah. Does it always work for you in the end? Yup. My Grandmaster says there are things called "beautiful lies". On this, I agree. Grandmaster Rhee's example is usually this: A family is so poor that they cannot afford much food. At the end of the day, a girl is fixing dinner for herself and her elderly father. She realizes that there is only enough food for one, and so gives dinner to her father, and she goes without. When her father asks her if she has already eaten, she replies, "Yes, Father, I have." A beautiful lie.

But the majority of lies aren't beautiful. They're ugly. So... don't tell them. My son has told me a grand total of about 3 or 4 lies. He's four, so I'm sure there will be more, unfortunately. You know why it's only been that many? Because he gets in more trouble for the lie than the thing he lied about. Only took a few times... he's a fast learner. I hope it sticks through teenage hood! Yeah, right... But, on with my tirade.

And have you ever noticed lies have a theme? Lies are usually told for one of 3 reasons... they think the truth will get them in trouble, they think the lie is just easier, or they think the lie will be more impressive. Uhh... no, no and NO. Initially, maybe, but in the long run? All you do is get into more trouble. So, I say again... don't lie. So simple.

To some extent, we are all selfish. It's human nature to look out for number one. But, really... we should all stop at manipulating other people. Or keeping them from reaching their true potential because it doesn't suit us. Or get pissed off when people leave us. Let people be who they truly are, and the rewards for you - yes, even the selfish you - will be SO much greater. There's a saying that I'm about to mangle, but you'll get the gist: "If you love something, set it free. If it comes back to you, it's yours for a lifetime." It's hard to let go, because of that selfish thing... but it's so much better. So, I say again... let people be who they are. So simple.

Child molestation... I don't think there are many evils that can top that one. And yet, it seems to be rampant. Are some people so sick in the head that they don't know right from wrong? Or have no conscience? I think there might be. But the vast majority of these offenders don't fall into those categories. The men I knew don't. And yet, even though they knew what they were doing was wrong, they did it, anyway. I can't even express to you the contempt and disgust I feel for people who do this. And the overwhelming sadness I feel that innocents have to go through that horror. I just don't understand it. And I don't understand the people who stand by and have an idea it might be going on, but say nothing. I feel incredibly guilty that I didn't see anything, yet there was no way I could - one was a martial arts "friend" I only saw at tournaments once a month or so, and another didn't come into his criminal activity until years after I had moved out of state (we were young when we knew each other). Thankfully, these two were caught, but there are countless others who get away with it. Takes a lot of bravery to ask for help or to speak up when you suspect something. But, for the sake of the innocents... do it, anyway. So it's not simple.

My last beef really, really kills me. Why, why, why do people cheat on their spouses??? I don't care what your excuse might be, it doesn't make it right. Your spouse abuses you. Ok... get help getting out. There are ways. And, really, you think that an abusive spouse would be perfectly calm when they find out? It sure seems like a good way to get yourself killed. Because they always find out. It's the nature of the beast. You're trapped in an unhappy marriage, but don't want to leave because of.... the kids, the money, whatever? Too bad. You made your bed, now lie in it. Suck it up or leave. Your spouse cheated on you, so you're getting him/her back? Ya, real mature. Listen, cheating is a deal breaker for me. I don't care what the circumstances are, it's not acceptable. And it's SO easy to avoid. Don't put yourself in a situation that might tempt you, short term or long. A married person has absolutely no business spending an excessive amount of alone time with a member of the opposite sex (unless one of them is gay (= ). It's asking for trouble. So, keep yourself out of it. So simple.

I guess it's in my nature, but I feel the need to mention some happy things, now. I have amazing people in my life, people that I've known forEVER. People that didn't act like I fell off the face of the planet anytime I moved. People that I still see and spend time with. People that don't lie and manipulate. The majority of my people are like that, as a matter of fact. And I'm grateful for them everyday. I have grown the ability, for the most part, to purge the nasty people from my life and to look out and be sure to not let any more in. And, I have an amazingly happy marriage. I actually have good communication with my husband. Which is not to say that we don't have our issues - all spouses do. But our learning curve is pretty steep, and we meant it when we said the part about the better and worse. I can't imagine my life without him... and if I was starting to have wandering eyes... I'd get some help, talk to someone (including him), and nip it in the bud. It's what a good wife or husband does, and I pray to God that I continue to be a good wife, walk the talk, and continue to be a person of integrity.

How about you?