A 9 year old's deamons, 40 years past.

Mr Gilbert, the school principal at a busy little elementary school stood watching the students at lunch.  There were groups laughing and talking. Some going back for seconds, and others concentrating on their lunches.  It was a whir of activity, as it was everyday.  But there, sitting by herself was a little 4th grade girl.  Who just a couple weeks ago was an average awkward 9 year old girl with a sparkle in her eye.  Recently though, she seemed morose. She sat alone, she looked very sad and heavy like she had the weight of the world on her tiny little shoulders.  He'd been noticing her this last week, and each day she was a little more withdrawn.  She just picked at her food, and didn't seem to notice the activity around her.  Lost in some deep disturbing thoughts.

He had no idea that just yesterday at home, her parents had the radio on while they went about their normal routine, and the little girl had heard a commercial for "First Call for Help" (A suicide hotline) and then sat in her room to compose a letter to that advertiser . . . though she didn't know what to say and couldn't put into words what she was on her mind or even where to send it.  So she left the unfinished letter crumpled in the corner of her room and went to do her chores.  The letter read:

                     "Dear First call for help,
                      I need help. I don't know what to do. I . . . "

No, Mr. Gilbert didn't know about that letter.

He also didn't know that recently, when she was alone. She sat on the on the floor and would bang her head on the wall. Hard. She'd bang her head, and it would hurt. Then she'd bang it harder, and it would hurt more. Then harder . . . and more.  Nobody saw, nobody knew . . . she was alone and her heart was heavy, and somehow hurting herself made her feel better.

When the little girls parents would go out, or had to run errands, they would send the little girl and her 10 year old brother to the neighbors house to play with the little girl's best friend.  They'd build tree houses, run races, play pretend store and some times they'd play hide and seek, and some times her best friends adult brother would play hide and seek with them.  Suddenly, the little girl didn't want to play hide and seek anymore.

Sometimes she would stay overnight at her best friends house, and since there was an adult child there, her best friends parents would leave.  And her best friends adult brother was there. . . and in charge.  Sometimes he would drive her home, and make her sit real close to him and quietly whisper . . . "If you tell anyone, I will kill you AND your brother."  Sometimes there are things too big, too shameful and to heavy for the little girl to think about.  Sometimes, just for a moment, when she'd hurt herself, she almost couldn't feel the other pain . . . the one in her heart, her mind and her soul.

Back in the lunch room, Mr. Gilbert approached the little girl.  He knelt down next to her, and looked her in the eyes.  She averted his stare.  He asked her  "How are you?" in a concerned voice.  She glanced at him, and said "Fine" as she quickly looked away.

He responded with "You've been looking so sad lately, can you tell me what's wrong?"

The little girls chin began to quiver, her eyes brimmed with tears that spilled down her cheeks as she looked down at her lunch tray.  Mr. Gilbert felt her pain as he waited for her to speak . . . but her words weren't coming.

He added,  "Has somebody been hurting you?"

The little girl, was so close to sobbing, and did everything she could to hold back the tears, her hands were shaking and palms were sweating and she finally answered with a slow nod, never looking away from her plate.

He knew he was getting somewhere and he gently prodded, "Who's been hurting you, and how have they hurt you?"

The little girl thought about how she would answer this question, and then she said

"My brother has been teasing me and calling me names."  She held her breath for what seemed to be a lifetime.

Mr. Gilbert was surprised that a brother's teasing would cause this much sadness, but was satisfied that he had gotten to the bottom of her sadness.  He gently counceled her on dealing with her brother and walked off to resume overseeing the rest of the lunch room.

The little girl got up and went to the bathroom, sat in a stall, and banged her head, hard.  And again . . . harder, and again, until her head throbbed.  She went back to class.  She went home that day and for the rest of that year, sometimes her parents would send her to her best friends house, and sometimes her best friends adult brother was there . . . and in charge.  And sometimes he would drive her home and make her sit real close . . .

To Mr. Gilbert, my elementary school principal,

You were SO close.

Technology and Etiquette

With Cell phones, iphones, smart phones, Blue tooth (or teeth???) There is hardly a place you can go where you don't see someone texting, talking or tweeting.

Me, I don't like talking on the phone while I'm shopping.  And I always find it confusing when I'm standing next to someone who seems to be talking to themselves.  I always have to look twice to see if they are talking to me.  And, I just find it to be rude when someone is at a check out counter, talking on the phone AND expecting the checker to discern whether the last thing they said was to them or to the unknown person on the other side of the customer's phone conversation.

Recently, we were having a family Christmas.  Rehashing old stories with new twists, catching up with loved ones that we don't spend enough time with, and making new memories.  Then I turned to see one of my relatives (who shall remain nameless) texting on their phone and they continued to text for quite some time. Or it may have been emailing . . . who knows? The point is . . . . Really??? Come on!

To me, it's the same kind of rudeness as speaking a foreign language, or whispering so as to exclude others.  I wanted to be like my 8th grade English teacher when she caught me passing a note, and say "Would you like to share that with the rest of the class?"

What could be SO important that it can't wait an hour or so?  What part of our newest technology excuses bad manners? 

I'm pretty sure each and everyone of these wonderful new gadgets has an OFF button.  I think it should be utilized a little more often.

Suing McDonalds Over Happy Meal Toys? McNonsense!

So, I saw on the news tonight that a mother of two from California along with advocates from the Center for Science in the Public Interest (CSPI) are suing McDonalds for marketing their Happy Meals with toys.  Enticing her poor innocent children into pestering her until she gives in and takes them to McDonalds so that they can get the latest and greatest toy in that Happy Meal.  The poor beaten down mother just cant resist her children's incessent wrangling to get those McNuggets and a $0.12 toy.  So much so that she is now telling McDonalds to either change their Happy Meals, get rid of the toy or face her lawsuit.

McBullshit

Ask anyone of my children and they will tell you in no uncertain terms that they were quite familiar with the word "No" when they were growing up.  I think that California mother might need to take a few McParenting classes so that SHE too can learn how to say the word "McNO" and McMean it!.

Gosh, my 6 year old granddaughter saw a pair of 4 inch heels in a commercial the other day that were "SO COOL" . . . I'm pretty sure her Mom didn't call up F. Lee Bailey to petition the court to have the advertisers not make their shoes so damn pretty, so that she doesn't have to get a backbone to stand up to her daughter.

And how about those Snickers commercials . . . Who's going to be the first one to sue them when little Johnny No-Discipline pushes Betty White into a mud puddle?  Come on!

Ronald McDonald himself would probably have to find a rope if this court case actually happens.

Can you say McFrivolous?

For It

A young woman with her world upside down
Daddy's little girl felt all alone
she kept remembering how he'd tell her each night
She was a special blessing and his shining light.

He'd say
Your Mama loved you from the moment she knew
the love we made made her dreams come true
Though her health got bad, she refused to let go
Until the day I brought you home.

Your Mama didn't just say she loved you
She lived for it

A few years later daddy was called to duty
Tearfully kissing his little beauty
fighting for freedom on a distant shore
till an officer came knockin at the door

He said
Your Daddy loved you more than you knew
He told us many times all about you
The battle got bad, but he fought till dawn
And now with honor, we bring him home

Your Daddy didn't just want a better world for you
He gave his life for it

Now as a teenager spiteful, hungry and cold
A runaway with no one to hold
Stopped at a church to get out of the rain
was met by the pastor who saw her pain

He said
Your Father Loves you more than you know
He promised that he will never let go
He's with you today and he wants you to know
He'll be with you now and until you come home

You see your father didn't just say he loved you
He lived and died for it

Studying for My Stress Test

As the self proclaimed "female Bret Favre of the co-ed softball world", it is difficult to publicly admit that because of a few recent scary health "events", I have been scheduled to take a stress test tomorrow. 

Health background:  I smoke, I drink, I work hard and I play harder . . . nuff said on that.

The instructions given to me when this test was scheduled include a segment that is titled  "How to Prepare". (the actual instructions are recorded below in black. My comments are in RED)

• Wear Comfortable, casual clothes Duh! and good walking shoes. Do you suppose it would be okay to be barefoot?
• On the Morning of the test, you may eat a light breakfast if you wish, but no later than one hour before the test. My breakfast usually includes 2 cups of coffee, cigarettes and a side order of email & facebook
• Please refrain from alcohol, No problem, coffee Ooops! and cigarettes Now come on! for at least 2 hours before the test. So, What you're saying is NO breakfast!   Seriously, If we're going through all the trouble of a stress test, wouldn't it be more productive if we made it as realistic as possible????  I mean, I can't think of a two hour span in which I am not smoking or drinking coffee or both prior to 3:00 in the afternoon.  I'm already getting stressed just thinking about it!  Isn't the whole point of a stress test to see how my ticker reacts when pushed? . . . If it's going to react negatively, it'll do it a whole lot quicker if I just do my normal routine prior to, and right up to the point where I'm walking into the hospital.  It'll save a whole lot of time if we do it MY way. Just sayin.

I've always had a little test anxiety, and this one is no different.  Especially since the LAST stress test I had (about 7 years ago) I ended up in the emergency room.  (I wonder who was more stressed?  Me or the technician who administered the test?)

For now . . . I'm planning on being back on the streets within one hour of the test . . . hopefully it's not in an ambulance ;-)

Winter

An unblemished blanket of white covers the ground
Natures diamonds shimmer abound
A defiant sun shines through my window
cleverly seducing my senses

A younger soul may not understand
Mother natures crafty illusion
How she temps you with the warmth of the sun
Then stikes you with her frigid hand. 

The Miracle of Birth - Lily the Black Bear

Last year I stumbled across this website and became obsessed with watching a black bear (Lilly) Wintering in her den. It was suspected that she would give birth to her first cub. I was one of the lucky 9 thousand or so to witness it live! What a joy. Here's the video: www.youtube.com/watch?v=VBNtANbW5vE

I then became transfixed by the opportunity to see this little black bear cub (Hope) growing: www.youtube.com/watch?v=U_Jg7N_ydaQ Then to see her frolic with her mother throughout the summer. http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=uTUNxmL_OKg&feature=fvsr

Fast forward to 364 days later. Lily & Hope are back in the den, it's 20 degrees below zero outside, and Lily gives birth again - This time it's Twins!
http://www.bear.org/livecams/lily-hope-cam.html

What a wonderful opportunity to see how nature works and to learn more about the black bear.

Dr. Lynn Rogers is the person who is heading up this study, and he has dedicated his life to this mission. To see more amazing videos and read the trials and tribulations, go to http://www.bear.org/

It is simply mesmerizing!