Is Santa Real?

First let me say that I have always told my son that Christmas was about the birth of Jesus, our Lord and Savior.  We sing happy birthday to Jesus and even make him a cake.  But, when my son was young, I also told him about Santa. I let him believe in someone who was not real and who could not return his love or admiration.

When my son asked me about the reality of Santa the first time, he was nine years old. (I had thought I was pretty lucky to have dodged that question for so long).  I told him that if he believed in Santa, then Santa would surely bring him a gift.  I was off the hook for that year. He still believed. The next year he asked me again. Kids were saying stuff in school and I knew (and dreaded) having to burst that bubble. He really wanted to know, so I had to tell him the truth.  I had never thought I was lying to him before and he was always so excited about Santa. And who wouldn’t be? Santa brings them gifts and money, the best toys and clothes.  But he wanted the truth.  And it hit me that I had been lying to him…and there is nothing I hate as much as a lie, just ask anyone who knows me.  I braced myself for the tears, but I knew I had to do it.  So I took a deep breath and began. 

My son sat there listening to every word, listening to me explain that Santa was an imaginary person that people made up.  He had seen all the cartoons and knew the stories, but I could see the wheels turning.  After I had told him that I was really his Santa, I waited. Then, all of a sudden, he exclaimed, "Do you mean that all those gifts that said they were from Santa, were really from you?" I said yes.  I could see that he was thinking back and remembering every Christmas and the gifts that said they were from Santa. Then he said something I will never forget..."So…YOU loved me SO much you gave me all those presents?"  I said yes.  I honestly thought their would be tears, a hurt look or something to let me know that I had taken something huge away from him by telling him the truth.  Instead, I got the biggest hug ever!  I will never forget it! 

But the wheels were still turning..."and the Easter Bunny, is he fake too?? And the tooth fairy??”  I said yes. He was okay. I think he took it better than I did.  (I mean we really went all out, making bunny feet in powder, near sightings of the Easter Bunny, etc.) When I told him I had saved his teeth, he was very excited! He wanted to see them! No hurt feelings, no tears, no claiming that I had lied.  Just love, and it was all for me.

Now, here's the thing...

WHY would we ever invent people or stories to continue an untruth about some imaginary person? We give him credit for bringing gifts and money to the ones we love more than anyone else in the world? WHY would we let our children love someone who is not real, instead of letting them love us?  WHY would we let our babies think that there is a person out there who brings the biggest or best gift to them, instead of the person they look to for everything they need??  WHY would we let a lie get their love and thanks, instead of us, the ones who ALWAYS have their best interests in mind? And aren’t we the ones who ALWAYS want their child to have the desires of their own heart…even at such a tender age? Thank God that it wasn’t a traumatic event...for either of us! Thank God that my son knows that I love him more than anyone or anything.  He knows that no one can love him like I love him, except Jesus. (my mom and my sister run very close seconds.)

I can’t believe I waited so long to tell him the truth.  All the love and hugs and kisses that I missed out on because of a myth.  I decided right then and there that if I had more children, I would never perpetrate a lie on them…nor would I do this to my future grandchildren.  And my son, God bless him, has already decided that he will never let his future children believe in Santa.  He will teach them that there is only One who loves them more than their dad, more than their mom and more than their grandmother. He is the One who gave his life for all of us. His name isn’t Santa. It’s Jesus.  And he gives the best gifts of all.

What is Going On With Today's Youth?

First of all let me apologize for the my negative title? And secondly, I usually find one of my photos to go with my writing, but today it is just something quiet and calming.  I started writing this Facebook yesterday and then decided I should probably write on my blog, because I was in a foul mood and writing usually proves to be cathartic and so relieves the frustration.  So I started this yesterday and hopefully I will finish it today. Pray for me people...

As many of you know, I am now attending CCSU in New Britain, CT.  I miss Tunxis so much.  I loved it at Tunxis. I made a lot of friends there. I loved every single professor I had.  Not one bad experience there.  The atmosphere here is so different, I am actually finding it a bit unpleasant.  There seems to be such a negative atmosphere here.  Maybe it has to do with it being the home of the blue devils. Ugh. I truly wouldn't be surprised!

So, yesterday I was in the ladies room (sorry for the image) and I hear two girls come in the rest room.  They are chatting with each other and I can't help but hear what they are saying.  The conversation is about book bags...about how their mothers taught them to cut open the bottom of their book bags and return it to LL Bean for a new book bag every year.  Both of them. They say they do the same thing with North Face (another popular brand for kids).  What the hell are parents teaching their kids??  Can this possibly be for real??

It isn't bad enough that almost every other word I hear,  in the cafe/lounge/hallway, is the F word or GD or some other exclamation in that vernacular, which I find annoying and disrespectful.  It is almost like they feel the need to act like idiots!

It is quite sad to see what the next generation is looking like. I am more and more proud of my son and the Godly man he is becoming!

I have made a couple of acquaintances that on the surface seem to be nice...time will tell.  I hate to sound skeptical, but I have learned to trust what God shows me about individuals I meet.

So far, I think God is showing me what is really going on at this school.  I picked up the school newspaper and the school magazine, thinking that maybe I could write for one of those publications. I had been writing for the school paper at Tunxis and had several articles and a photo published there.

The paper was okay...lots of newspaper articles, but no editorial page and no papers written by people who were not on staff.  The school magazine was horrible.  At first, when reading  the description in front of the magazine, I thought, I could just write for the magazine. I read on.  The very first article uses profanity.  Then, so does the next article.  And it went on and on throughout the magazine...which I eventually tore in half and threw in the trash.  I think I am going to send a copy of this blog to the school newspaper and  the magazine at the school.  I am so angry and disappointed, I am not sure if I can't keep it in.

Maybe God is showing me that this isn't the school for me.  For now, I go to class and get my work done and spend as little time on campus as possible. My time on campus will be spent in class or a quiet corner, away from others, if I can find such a spot.  I will also be doing a major search for my Ipod and headphones to block out the NOISE. Pray for me people....and thanks in advance!

P.S...I have decided the photo I chose actually does apply to this post because so many of the people at this university seem to be in a fog.

Where Were You When the World Stopped Turning?

As the 10 year anniversary of the September 11th terrorist attacks arrive this weekend, it has me thinking about that horrible day.  I am sure that many Americans are thinking of it along with me. I know that there are many remembrance ceremonies happening all weekend.  As I write this I feel a tightening in my chest...reliving the day in my memory and the feelings that I experienced that day.  I will never forget how I felt that day.  I don't think any American will forget that day...where they were and what they were doing as they heard the news. I will never forget the images of the towers burning and falling, the Pentagon torn apart and on fire and a plane crashing into a Pennsylvania field.  Heroes were born and heroes died on that fateful day.  Men and women who didn't know what they were going to face that day. Men and women who couldn't have imagined the courage they would muster. Men and women that will never be forgotten.

I was on my way to work and looking out my car window thinking to myself that it was such a beautiful September day; blue skies and only a wispy cloud here and there.  It was definitely much too nice a day to be going to work.  Then, on the radio, I heard that a plane had flown into the one of the towers of the World Trade Center. At first, all the reports were saying that it was a small single engine plane, but that was soon recanted and new reports started rolling in fast and furious.  I arrived at work moments later. We had no television there so I plugged in a portable radio and the entire office stood around listening in horror as the 2nd plane crashed into the north tower.  We realized quickly that the first plane crash was not an accident.  What was happening? Who would do such a thing?

The attacks had only just begun, there was more to come.  We were glued to any device that would clue us in to what exactly was happening.  We left work early and went to our homes and our families.  But even then, we were intent on the television, watching the attacks and abject destruction of life unfold before our eyes.

As the day unfolded it didn't get any better...people were trapped.  Police, fireman and EMT personnel became additional casualties to the list of all the people who couldn't get out of the towers and those who were on the four planes. It seemed to go on forever.  The casualties kept growing in number. It seemed that it would never end.  

In the days following the attacks which affected not only New York, Washington D.C. and Pennsylvania, but all of America.  Life would never be the same in America. Americans will never forget the attacks on our land, our people and our sense of peace.  People close to the towers would grab anyone and hug them as if clinging onto another for life. The adrenaline pumping furiously as they ran from the burning towers.  You could see it and almost feel it yourself as you watched on television.  They would grab someone tell what they saw and felt, how the ground shook and the skies darkened .  It was the same story over and over and still we watched, unable to turn away.

But even as buildings fell, people joined together. Untold numbers flooded into churches and synagogues to pray for the missing and lost and the families who were struggling with violent loss. Strangers gathered together to join in candlelight vigils for the missing and those souls that were lost.  Families flooded the streets putting up posters of their loved ones who were still missing.  It went on and on and we watched it for days and weeks on end, always hoping to hear of a miracle. Waiting.  This country pulled together as one like we had never seen before. We held hands, we hugged strangers and we prayed together.  We had compassion for our brothers and sisters, our friends and neighbors.

And suddenly it is ten years later.  Reports of an imminent threat have been heard on the news. Can Americans handle another attack on our land? On our families? Our sense of peace?  It has taken a long time to get to a place of peace again for so many Americans, especially those who lost loved ones.  But no matter what, this country will prevail.  It's values and principles have stood for over 200 years and it will rise against any threat to prevail. Our compassion and brotherly love will hold us together when buildings fall.  We did it when we were attacked on September 11, 2001 and no matter what happens we will stand together. We are anchored. We will stand as one. One people. One nation.

A while back I was reading in Samuel I about Hannah and how she trusted God with her innermost thoughts, the most intimate of her desires. It says that she anguished in her soul.  Hannah desired a son with everything she had. Back then barren women were considered to be under a curse from God. I never read the bible until after I was saved, but I have always felt a connection to Hannah.  I have known that anguish in my soul.

I had always wanted a child. God blessed me with a son when I didn't deserve being blessed...at least not in my own eyes, but God sees us through different eyes. My son is now 22-years-old. He was unexpected but I knew the moment I found out I was carrying him, my life would be different.  I know that I am blessed. I cannot imagine my life without him. Having a child completely changed my life, who I was back then and who I am today.  As I look back to the person I was over 20 years ago, I can definitely say I don't recognize her.  I was spiraling out of control.  I had made several choices about how I lived that were not the best for me.  But God knew what was best for me and what would turn my life around to Him. 

I always tell my son that he never has to wonder what his purpose is, being in this life, on this earth.  I know first and foremost God used him to save me.  God used a child to get my attention and to look at how I was living and what I was doing.  I have to say it worked.  I did a complete 180 degree turn around. I had to.  It was all about our survival, although I did not know it then.  I learned that it is never too late to trust in the Lord.  It is never too late to change.

God has always been the father for my son and the husband I needed.  Although for a time we both longed for that earthly father and husband, God showed us that He has a reason for what He does and He knows what will work for each one of us.  We have learned to trust in Him and know that He will let us know when the time is right.  He will let us know when change is coming.

God still has plans for me and for my son. He isn't done with either of us. My son wasn't put here just to save me, he was put here for so much more.  Those plans and purposes unfold daily. There is still so much we don't know, but we know that God has an interest in our lives, and only He knows where our lives will turn and change and what we will become.  He knows our innermost thoughts and desires and He wants us to be blessed.  We just have to hold on and let Him lead us where He will.

Summer-ized

It's the middle of August. Usually in the middle of August it is blazing hot outside and the heat is rising off the pavement. You really can fry an egg on the sidewalk!  But today, in the middle of August and only 65 degrees out.  It is too cold. I have to admit, I have been summer-ized.  I love summer.  It is my favorite time of year.  Not only is it warm and sunny, but I tend to spend time outside as often as possible, even if it is just sitting on the back step.  Usually it is just sitting outside, but not this summer.  This summer has been less pain. This summer has been walking. This summer has been Momo.

In the summertime, I remember sitting outside, looking at the clouds and then staying out and waiting for the lightening bugs to show up--then catching them in a jar to watch them light up. I did the same thing with my son when he was little. We walk down a dirt road to our friends house...jumping in the neighbor's pool when it was so hot out and we didn't have a pool. Later on taking my kids to the pool everyday for the entire day. Great suntans. Loads of fun. Great memories.

Summer means drippy ice cream cones and eating them as fast as you can without a brain freeze. It's watching the planes come in at Bradley. Listening to the crickets and the frogs make so much noise you wonder how you will fall asleep later...but you do, listening to the crickets and the frogs singing. I still love these sounds. They bring me back to a different summer, a simpler time.

Summer is a great time for day trips and tons of photographs...and I am all about the photographs! Going to the beach, the fireman's carnivals, summer fairs and roaring campfires. I love it. All of these things give me something to photograph. They remind me of the summers I had as a kid, the summers I had with a kid, and the summer I am currently having with a puppy.  

And this year, since we have a new puppy, summer means walking.  Walking like I haven't walked in almost 20 years.  Not because I didn't want to, but because I couldn't.  Arthritis is a horrible thing.  But this summer has been wonderful because I am walking.  Until this summer, going for a 45 minute walk was something I could only dream about. I am not sure what changed this year but for the first time in 17 years I have been able to go for a walk. I love it!

Typically, as it gets colder, pain sets in and so does hibernating in the upstairs of my house...where the heat rises.   In the winter, throughout the winter, I just say to myself...only 89 more days of being cold...only 70 more days of winter...only 42 more days of freezing my fanny off!  I can get through this. Oh my goodness! Why is it still freezing??!  I hate being cold. I really hate it.

But for right now, summer is still here.  It may be only 65 degrees outside, but it isn't freezing. I am hanging onto every drop of summer I can.  And for now I am taking walks with my puppy.  Hopefully it will last. But no matter what, I will always have this summer and being summer-ized.

How Life Has Changed!

I am afraid this is going to be a long post...so get yourself a snack and sit back and enjoy!

Someone started a post on Facebook which really got me started thinking, so I am revising the initial thoughts and ideas and expounding on them. Basically it got me thinking about how different things are for kids growing up today than they were for my generation growing up in the 20th century, specifically the sixties and seventies. We really did have it good back then even if we didn't realize it until we were grown up and facing the concept of raising our own children. But isn't that how it is with every generation? We all try to make things better for our own children, but they may be missing out on some of the simplest things in life. Maybe we really aren't making life better for them in the long run. Life's pace is so much faster than it was when I was a kid, and I got to be a kid. I had a childhood where I got to act my age and not grow up too fast.

When I was a child, my mother made me play outside and go looking for friends. She didn't drop me off at the mall and let me fend for myself. I had to tell my mother where I was going, who I was with and when I would be back. If it was hot, you went outside.  If it was snowing, you went outside..and you stayed outside in that snow for hours until your cheeks were rosy and your hands were freezing...what a blast! There was hot chocolate waiting inside and we usually got to make maple syrup sundaes with fresh snow!

If my mom wanted me, she did not call my cell phone, she yelled out the door for me, and I had better be within hearing distance! I didn't have the Internet or a cell phone at my disposal 24 hours a day and I wasn't allowed to just use the phone any time I wanted...at least not till I was in my teens. I still had to be considerate and share the phone with others in the family...and we definitely did not take phone calls during meals!  It could ring and ring and ring--my mom always said the phone was for her convenience not the callers...and she was right! In today's day of cell phones constantly ringing and not going anywhere without one, there are definitely times when I just DON'T want to answer it.

When the street lights came on, I had better be in the house...that was my curfew. When it was time for dinner, I had better be there and eat what was put in front of me. If I didn't eat it for dinner when it was hot, I had it cold the next day till it was gone. (I still have an aversion to split pea soup!)  People were starving in China you know...how many of you heard that one growing up?!  And guess what, it didn't kill me.

You couldn't get away with much when I was a kid.  Neighbors cared about what you did and let your mom know if you did something wrong. Why? Quid pro quo. Because they would want to be informed if their kids did something wrong too. Neighbors counted on each other. Today you might have lived next to them for years and still not even know your neighbor's name!

We didn't have a pool till I was in my early teens, so we played in the sprinkler and had a blast. We drank from the water hose which was usually just laying there on the ground.  I probably ate dirt as a kid too...you know...remember mud pies? Who didn't make those?  We survived.  I also swam in a pond, walked home from school, did my chores first if I wanted to go outside, and babysat for 50 cents an hour! Don't even try the "My friends don't have to do chores!" act, because when it came to talking back, my mom didn't give a hoot what the other kids were doing...as she said "you are my kid and you'll do what I say!"  I got punished, I got grounded and whatever punishment I had it was adhered to even if my mom wasn't home. My mom was the boss of me whether I liked it or not. Really. Most kids don't know what is good for them.

Hand sanitizer didn't exist, but you could sure get your mouth washed out with soap...and survive it. You learned pretty quick not to talk back or swear! Getting dirty was fine because you were going to take a bath and you did wash up before supper.

When I thought I wanted to try smoking in secret with my friends (filtered of course), I didn't get away with it. I got caught, and I paid a price for it. My mom made me smoke a non filter Pall Mall till I puked. That kept me away from cigarettes for a good 8 years!  When I thought I could shoplift a pack of gum from the gas station down the street, my mother made me take it back and apologize to the owner...and I got grounded for a whole summer! We were definitely held responsible for our stupid mistakes..as it should be. Looking back I see that I wasn't very good at getting away with things. 

I would NEVER have thought about threatening my mother with calling the police. I hear of kids threatening their parents for the most inane reasons. I am not talking about legitimate reasons like child abuse, but just because you didn't like how you were being disciplined. There is a BIG difference. You couldn't get away with that when I was a kid.  First of all, how was I going to make that phone call?? It wasn't my phone and I didn't have permission to use it. Secondly, I probably would have gotten my mouth slapped for saying even thinking it and then sent to my room without dinner.  It didn't matter what time it was! I remember getting sent to bed quite early on some occasions. Maybe even gotten my mouth washed out too.  I never dreamed of threatening my parents.  I know I said other things that were completely out of line though and deserved the punishment. I got spanked when I had it coming and I didn't scream child abuse.  Guess what? Still here. Survived it. Probably better for it.

I also didn't get an allowance. I wasn't entitled to it for the "work" I did around the house. I vacuumed, I dusted, I polished (yes, polished), washed floors and toilets, dishes and clothes.  Those were called chores, and I did them because it was expected of me. It taught me responsibility.  Again, I am definitely better off for it.

It wasn't all about what I couldn't do either.  We spent time together as a family, not on computers or texting, but actually talking together and doing things together. We picked flowers and played hopscotch, jump rope, Mother May I?, freeze tag and Red Light Green Light. We lit sparklers on July 4th, we went camping together, we chased fireflies and we played board games. We rode our bikes or walked if we wanted to go somewhere. We made friends with our neighbors kids because we lived out in the country and that's who there was to play with. 

You know, last of all, I have to tell you, that while raising my son, (now 22 years old and a wonderful young man) I found myself sounding just like my mom sometimes.  I would laugh at myself when I heard it coming out of my mouth and my mother would be rolling!  I think it was the best gift I could ever give her!  It is like she always said...wait till you have your own kids...you'll see.  I love her enough to let her know whenever I hear myself saying something she said to me that I didn't like hearing as a child.  And being the great mom that she is, she always laughed her butt off!!  Thanks Mom, really. You had a part in raising my kid just as much as I did, because you taught it to me first...and I survived it.  You always knew I would.  I think I turned out pretty good despite my mom's loving tactics!!  Today's parents should take a look backwards when raising their kids and remember what they were taught...it is the best thing they can do for their children..and guess what?  They will survive it too.  

Did you survive drinking from a water hose and getting punished when you did something wrong?  I did.  I want to hear your stories too!

P.S.  I thought it was funny when doing a spell check the only two words that came up as problems were Facebook and texting! Hahahaha!

New Family Member

I hope you all don't mind my little puppy story to get me back into the groove of writing.  I had a very busy semester at school with writing, writing, writing! I am the only one in the class who received an A though, so it was definitely worth all the stress, research and writing.  My final thesis was on the true foundation of America.

We got a new puppy about a month ago. She is a Shiba Inu which is a Japanese breed. Her name is Momo, which means "peach" in Japanese. With her thick puppy fur and her coloring, it is the perfect name for her. We are teaching her commands in Japanese too.  It has been interesting getting used to having her in the house and getting her into a routine.  I can say that we are "dog tired" in my house.  It is like setting a toddler loose in the house, but not just a toddler, a toddler with sharp teeth. I can say I am an unofficial chew toy with the bitemarks to prove it!  I love her though.  It is fun and exhausting at the same time. She gets into everything...everything!   I think she has the perfect personality for our little family.  We laugh a lot around here. She has the cutest little bark (so far) and we have heard the famous Shiba scream once or twice already.  She goes to work with me on Fridays and gets along with everyone.  She and Sassy (our cat) are finally finding a way to coexist.