Laughing Off Health Care Heartache

Thank you House, for passing Pelosi’s Health Care Plan last weekend.  Hopefully the Senate will have the sense to reject it.

Little Lads

In the process of unpacking all of our boxes and boxes of books, I came across Louisa May Alcott’s recently published (1999), supposedly “newly discovered,” The Quiet Little Woman.  It is actually a volume of three short Christmas stories.  I spent Sunday afternoon reading it, which I found to be sweet and simple…a quick and easy, delightful little read.  This particular sentence from the first story really jumped out at me:

“Two or three small lads rioted about the house making much work and doing very little.”

That’s it!  That word, “riotous,” is the adjective I have been looking for for quite some time to describe my three little lads.  I’ve come up with “rowdy,” “tumultuous,” “wild,” even dubbed them “Tazmanian Devils,” “hurricanes,” and “tornadoes.”  But Alcott’s wording summs up exactly what my boys were doing that very not so quiet Sunday afternoon as my husband and I were trying to read.  Though all of these words carry some negative connotation, you must understand that I use them in jest.  Boys are sweet and darling in their own ways, see here, and I wouldn’t trade mine for anything.  And or course, even the mellowest of girls do come with their own “words:”  “emotional” and “dramatic,” for a start (I would know, I am one).

Green Garbage

I am not an environmentalist.  This is not because I don’t love the Earth and all of its beauty.  In fact, I believe the Earth is a magnificent creation of and a marvelous blessing from the Lord.  It’s the term that bothers me…because “environmentalism” has, sadly, become largely synonymous with “extremism.”  I think it’s important to take reasonable measures to keep our planet beautiful and healthy.  But I don’t buy into the whole Global Warming…oh, I forgot, now the correct term is “climate change” hoax.  Yes, I believe it’s a hoax.  I think it’s ridiculous to suggest that we all must use goofy light bulbs and paint our roofs white and spend an hour a day sorting our trash for recycling in order to “save” the planet.  And I am deeply offended by those who…more than merely suggest…would FORCE us to do these things whether we want to or not, for the good of the world.  I believe that the Earth will last and provide for its people as long as the Lord needs and/or wants it to, period.  We should be kind to our dear Mother Earth until then, but I’m not going to undergo sterilization as part of my “green duty.”  (Yes, some women are actually doing this!)

And I think that giving up American sovereignty in order to pay our “climate debt” to the the rest of the world is positively shameful, but apparently that is exactly what the Copenhagen Treaty calls for, as explained by Lord Monckton:

YIKES!

Below, Lord Monckton explains “globalized groupthink” regarding climate change…very interesting indeed.  Then, at the end, he challenges Al Gore to a debate…very amusing indeed.

We’ve been all consumed with the issue of health care lately, and rightly so, but we must remember that threats to freedom come in many forms, and “climate change” is a biggie.

CELEBRATE!

What is there to celebrate, you ask?  Very much, from my perspective.

• I am officially and finally, MOVED, and we are well on our way to being “settled,” whatever that means.
• Our family is together again, after months of tiresome separation.
• A much anticipated Halloween was great fun, but finally behind us!
• I had a birthday recently and am still in my twenties, which is a good thing, because I definitely do NOT feel ready to be in my thirties.
• The elections yesterday were a big success for conservatives, good and very welcome news indeed!

ALSO…

The beloved Radio Flyer trike successfully made the move, along with most of our other stuff, so my boys can continue to get their daily exercise.

AND…

FINALLY!   A post on this blog, after a twenty-three-day hiatus.

SCENES FROM THE HIATUS…

It’s funny, when my “life” is all out on display like this, it really just looks like a bunch of junk.

Actually, this is my LIFE…it consists of four very special boys (or rather, three boys and a man), not all of that “stuff” pictured above.

We celebrated our family’s reunion at California Adventure and Disneyland.

*HALLOWEEN TIME*

A gorgeous picture of me, I know.  My husband was actually surprised that I was able to blow out all of those candles in one breath.  “Come on,” I said.  “I’m a marathon runner…I’ve got great lung capacity!”

MOVING, again

As if we haven’t done enough of this and this in the last few months, here we go again…this time, off to California.  We’ll be passing through Vegas to pick up the rest of our belongings, then meet up with dear old Dad in California.  He has been dearly missed.  It will be good to get settled in together as a family again, even if it is in California.  If you’re not from California you would probably have a stroke if you knew how much we’re going to be dropping in rent.

Anyway, my mind and energies have been focused on moving and all things related, meaning…STRESS…for the past couple of weeks.  But who knows, maybe, eventually, I’ll get back into the ol’ blogging habit again.  We’ll see.

A Flower For Mommy

What is the best thing about being a mother of boys?

Little boys are in love with their mommies.

My boys don’t love pretty little things like girls do.  But they do love pretty little girls.  They dote on them and dish out compliments, such as, “you’re as pretty as a flower.”  The little girls aren’t always used to being doted upon, though, and one such compliment brought one of their little lady cousins to tears.  “Mommy,” she cried, “he said I’m like a tulip.  I’m not a tulip…I’m Natalie!” It brings to mind the nursery rhyme “Georgie Porgie” who kissed the girls and made them cry.  The one lucky girl who receives the most, and the best, compliments though, is me.

My eldest used to say to me at least once a day, “You’re pretty and beautiful forever, even when you die!” I gave my four-year-old a hug today, after which he looked at me and said, “I’m glad you’re not dead.” Boys are rowdy and dirty and love to play with guns and swords, but despite not being phased by blood, bad guys and talk of dying…they are so sweet and sensitive in their own boyish way.  I treasure every compliment I get from them, and save the love notes they pass me.  Just a few days ago my six-year-old gave me this poem:

Moms are nice.

Yes they are.

Especially my Mom.

She is nice and beautiful.

I took the boys hiking yesterday and my #2 stopped to pick flowers for me almost as often as I stopped to take pictures…and that means a lot.  He picked up the habit from his older brother, who began the practice of picking flowers for Mommy when he was four.  Yesterday, I wound up with an abundance of  sunflowers and little purple wildflowers in my hair, in my pockets, and in my bag.

My first grader still lets me send him off to school with a hug and/or kiss, and lets me hold his hand when I pick him up.  I don’t know at what age boys fall out of love with their mothers, or at least stop expressing their affection so openly, but I will happily receive the constant stream of complimets, poems, flowers and hugs until then.

But, This Time It Will Be Different…

REMEMBER

Listen HERE to the very moving first hand account of Tami Michaels as she and her husband, Guy, witnessed the horror of 9/11 from their hotel room across the street from the Twin Towers.  The real time audio is incredibly moving.  More background here.

A Momentary Still

After spending nearly the entire month of August wandering, I am settling down again…briefly.  I went first to California, then to Virginia, Pennsylvania and New Jersey…back to California, then to Arizona…and again to California, before finally settling back down here in Utah…for the time being, anyway.  It was…interesting, in many respects.  I spent almost 11 of those days completely away from my children.  My parents were kind…brave…enough to take them in so I could spend some more quality time with my MIA husband.  I was able to catch up with a lot of old friends in these many places…people I haven’t seen in four to ten years…from law school, college, and all the way back to high school.

SOMETIMES THE BEST DEFENSE IS A GOOD OFFENSE, and sometimes we underestimate our children…

I should have listened to my four-year-old as he sat upon my lap, helping me in a Chess match up against his six-year-old brother.  He kept begging me to make use of my queen (I was letting him move my pieces after I decided where they should be moved to, and he wanted nothing more than to move the queen out into the open).  I kept responding that I prefer to keep my queen tucked safely away in the back row, where she can’t be made vulnerable too quickly.  For at least twenty minutes we moved our players methodically around the board without a single slaying, highly unusual when playing Chess with my eldest.

As demonstrated in the just previous game, he really delights in as much bloodshed as possible as quickly as possible.  He would knowingly walk into traps because he just couldn’t resist killing another of my pieces, and the game went quickly…with high causalities on both sides, and me triumphant in the end.  In this second game, however, he stunned me with his sudden maturity as a player.  He avoided rash decisions and the urge to annihilate.  Maybe that’s why his younger brother was anxious for me to move my queen…some action please! Even I was getting bored.

Eventually, my daring…and darling…opponent took the advice from his younger brother that I had ignored…and moved his queen aggressively into the open.  I hardly saw her coming, and I was certainly unprepared.  My boy used his queen to make havoc of my defensive line, taking both bishops, a rook and a knight, as well as a couple of pawns, in just a few short minutes.  I was running for the hills!  Though I eventually managed to take his queen and to preserve my own queen until nearly the end, I finally found myself in checkmate, having been outplayed by a six-year-old.  This second game lasted a good forty five minutes, and I was more than a little impressed with the early restraint and the clever thinking my boy employed to win it.  He is a very smart kid, and if he slows down and really puts his mind to something, his potential is exponential.