Speaking My Mind, part 2

Last week, Teresa and I took our kids to see The Christmas Carol. It was a nicely performed production. After leaving the Stranahan, we stopped for a quick bite to eat at McDonalds. "Two items off the $1 menu for everybody, and get water to drink"...our standard menu when hauling a van load of teenagers (give or take a year here and there) around the countryside.

When I ordered for Teresa and I - "Two hamburgers, two fries, and two cups of water" - I was informed "We don't have cups for water anymore, but we do have Dasani bottled water for 50 cents, would you like some?" Imagine my surprise! Especially when I peered around the young man's shoulder and noticed myriad choices of cups sitting on the counter top behind him. I quizzically looked at him and said, "No, thank you - I want a CUP of water" and was simply ignored at that point. I peered a little more noticeably at the cheerful array of neatly stacked cups in various colors. This young man must obviously be blind. Apparently deaf, also, I could only assume, as he continued to ignore my request for water.

I held my tongue - no easy feat. (Never make a person angry when he's holding the spatula that flips your burger, and you haven't been served yet. You might just wind up with some seasonings you weren't aware were on the menu.) I can understand a fast food chain's policy of not giving cups of water to non-customers; I can even sometimes tolerate the practice of charging a dime for water, although I rarely will pay for water, unless I'm parched and have only potato chips to eat. But simply not making water available to paying customers because there are no "water cups"?

Remind me to never eat ice cream with a fork, or cut steak with a butter knife, or wipe my mouth with a kleenex! (For that matter, I would have been happy to go to the van and get the empty Burger King cup and ask for a refill!)

I walked out with raised eyebrows, not simply at the rude treatment of a customer, but more so at the preposterous realization that people truly can't think outside the box!

And we stopped at Rite Aid and paid several dollars for drinks for all! Principles don't die easy for me!

A Christmas WHAT?

So I get this email from my little sister and she says "Insert your own answers and post it on your blog." I figured, she's done enough things I've told her to do, in the past, so I might as well amuse her this time. It'll make her feel important. Hey, Tam, I sure could use some Kleenex and Oreos right now. Here's lookin' at you, kid.
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Wrapping paper or gift bags?

Both. I wrap until I'm tired (always late on Christmas Eve, which this year might be a problem, as we have a 10:30pm church service) then I finish with gift bags. I'm a procrastinator extraordinaire!



Real tree or artificial?

Artificial. I love the smell of real, but hate the gouge marks I get from continually removing the psychotic cats from their sleeping positions on the lower branches.



When do you put up the tree?

We usually try to set it up right after Thanksgiving. We couldn't this year, because we had an after-parade chili supper for our fellow Ron Paul supporters. This year, it was up, and safely secured to the wall so Gabe won't knock it over, on December 5th.



When do you take the tree down?

I like to have the remnants of Christmas Past removed by January 2nd. However, as described here, that sometimes doesn't happen.



Favorite holiday theme?

Hmmmmmm...whatever trips my trigger at the time.



Favorite gift received as a child?

Probably the Holly Hobby pillow that my oldest sister made and embroidered for me when I was about 8. I slept with it every night, took it to college, and still have it, packed away in a box. It's threadbare now.



Do you have a nativity scene?

Yep, I bought one before I got married, and looked forward to being able to use it with my family. It was just the figurines, so for about 13 years, poor Jesus was REALLY exposed to the elements. I finally broke down and bought him a stable about 3 years ago. Then He smiled at me....pa rum pa pum pum...



Hardest person to buy for?

Usually, Gabe. He has Angelman Syndrome
and a list of other medical diagnoses, and we have to be quite selective in what we let him play with, since he likes to chew everything. We buy him a lot of his favorite snacks for gifts.



Easiest person to buy for?

Without a doubt, my Savannah. She prepares a list weeks in advance, and includes an array of choices, in an array of price ranges. She's also quite content if I pick things on my own for her. I have pretty good taste. (After all, I married Tom!)



Worst Christmas gift you ever received?

I don't recall any really bad ones, but I DID have a sort-of high school boyfriend give me a ring (not for Christmas) that...Ok, try and picture this - it looked like a bubble gum machine ring, the kind that aren't connected so that fat fingers can still wear the treasured bauble...only the bauble in question was...well, it appeared to be...an upholstery button from the back of a plaid couch.........it was the strangest thing I've ever seen in the jewelry of life. I'm laughing my head off just thinking about it! Ah, Duane....How ARE you, anyway? Let's just say, I would have been fine without having to "Meet the Robinsons".



Mail or email cards?

Huh?



Favorite Christmas movie?

I have been in love with Jimmy Stewart for decades. Ronald Reagan knew him. Need I say more?



When do you start shopping for Christmas?

Sometimes the day after Christmas. Sometimes two weeks before. It depends on our budget.



Have you ever recycled a Christmas present?

Probably...at least to Goodwill.



Favorite thing to eat at Christmas?

Buckeyes. Buckeyes. Buckeyes. And sometimes, hard cinnamon candy.



White lights or colored on the tree?

Usually white. It depends on how I decorate the tree. We currently have a pre-lit (in white) tree. Try it, you'll looooooove it!



Favorite Christmas song?

I will listen to just about anything Christmas. I take that back. If it's a currently popular, typically stupid, secular artist wailing about Lost Love at Christmas, I puke. And go look for my Osmond records. Donny and Marie....now THERE's some Christmas music! "It never snows in LA, so Santa don't bring me a sleigh, I'll leave a key by the door, cause there's no chimney anymore...." Ok, Tam, join in here...(and please correct my misunderstood words...I don't have the lyrics in front of me, you know)



Travel for Christmas or stay at home?

I like both. I lean toward staying home, though.



Can you name all of Santa's reindeers?

I'm a little leary of a reindeer who prances. And Comet is a toxic substance.



Angel on the tree top or a star?

A blue angel, right now.



Open the presents on Christmas Eve or Christmas Day?

Christmas Morning.



Most annoying thing about this time of year?

How stressed people get over the spending they feel obliged to do; people who act like Christmas is a chore they have to get accomplished



What I love most about Christmas?

This year, Tom is taking 10 days off work. I like that. I like to sit in the dark with Tom and stare at the lights on the tree and.....(censored)....

Sisters

People say we 4 girls all look alike. At times, I'd agree. Other times, not so much. Like here. Sure, Tam and I bear a remarkable resemblance, as do Deb and Teresa, but Tam and I don't look so much like Deb and Teresa. People really should be careful that the glasses they use have been thoroughly cleaned. Cameras, too!

Who Says Ya Can't Be Cool Past 70?

When I was a kid, my Dad had a blue pin striped suit he wore to church many Sundays. (One time he went to church wearing his house shoes - we were walking up the long sidewalk at Hilltop Chapel, located next to The Pony Bar, in Concord, Michigan, when he glanced down and realized he had his brown vinyl-bottomed Kmart slippers on - but that has nothing to do with this blog, I just wanted to insert that tidbit here cause I know he reads my stuff!) Back to the original thought pattern. This blue suit was the typical late 70's polyester fabric that all the men in our church donned to look their Sunday best.

Not being prone to reminiscing about my father's clothing too often, I had not thought about that particular item until about 6 months ago, when my 14 year old son wanted me to take him to Goodwill. He wanted some "old man pants" to wear. (Sorry, Dad - those were Bucky's words, not mine! Do I still get a Christmas present??) Wouldn't you know, one of the pairs of slacks this fashion-conscious child of mine chose during this shopping excursion was identical to my Dad's blue pin striped pants! Bucky loved them. Later, he decided that they would be cooler (that's probably "kuhler" in current language) if they were chopped off at the knees, so the last time I checked, his old man pants were jagged, no-hemmed, mom-isn't-sure-what-this-style-is-supposed-to-say shorts that aren't overly attractive, but which scream "Bucky!!" loud and clear. They make him happy.

I can't imagine wearing something my grandmother would have worn. The mere pondering of the drapery-inspired gabardine red and black flowered skirts combined with the double-knit red and white-speckled zippered, high-collared pullover tunic causes me to shudder with horror. It also makes me pause and remember the time that my mom, sister, aunt, and cousins, along with Granny and I, went to Albion to a park for a picnic. We kids were swinging and playing on the slide. Mom and Aunt Joyce decided to join in the fun. Not to be outdone (another family issue my sisters and I often laugh about), Granny strutted up the steps to the top of the slide, took her seat on the shiny metal, and proceeded to slide in a downward motion, which is as it should be. However, Granny forgot how to land gracefully. Granny flew off the end of the shiny metal and promptly found herself sitting, rather forcefully, in a pile of dust. After being certain that Granny's tailbone wasn't broken, helping her re-insert her eyeballs and close her mouth, and assisting her to an upright, if slightly painful, position, Mom and Aunt Joyce commenced to laugh - dare I say, cackle - their not-very-kindhearted-to-their-humbled-mother heads off, while we kids gingerly checked on Granny's well-being (and then joined in the laughter).

It's funny what you remember at the oddest moments, for the oddest reasons. I wonder what my kids will talk about, what their kids will be telling their kids about me someday. Will I have left a good heritage for them, rich in funny stories and loving memories? Will they be able to say I showed them by my actions how to love God with all their heart? Will they do what's right, even if no one else does, because they saw me do what was right? Will the things that I think are important for my children to know right now make a difference in their future generations?

Our family is spread out across several states, and we rarely are able to be together. We're all unique, like families everywhere, in our choices of how we raise our children, family rules, church denominations, schooling methods, financial situations - the list goes on. However, there is one thing we are united on and that is who we want for President of the United States of America. Our choice for President is Congressman Ron Paul. We might have varying reasons WHY he's our choice, but it's a nearly unanimous decision that he IS the choice.

In the past 6 months, my kids have learned much about government, loyalty, corruption, the Constitution, Mom's "tenacity" (as I was recently credited with by a friend), meetup groups, campaign donations, laws, elections, primaries, Democrats, Republicans, freedom of speech, health care, spying, and all other things political. I've learned with them. My dad has learned with us. This election spans generations, political parties, financial status, religions, countries.

I love America. I love our ability, our freedom, to be different. I want that freedom to be strong for my family years from now. That's why I'm not going to stop the "tenacity". I want what I leave for my family to remember to be worth their time. I want to spend my time doing things that will still be making an impact long after I'm gone. Being tenacious for Ron Paul is worth my time. Teaching my kids to follow the rules and demand that leaders do the same is worth my time. Working together with my family for a common cause is worth my time.

I will be tenacious for a man who:
*has never voted to raise taxes.
*has never voted for an unbalanced budget.
*has never voted to raise congressional pay.
*has never taken a government-paid junket.
*wants to let me keep more of my money.
*wants to end the IRS.
*wants to protect my privacy.
*wants to bring our troops home and keep our own borders safe.
*wants to end the Patriot Act.
*wants to end forced vaccinations.
*believes parents know what is best for their children in ALL aspects.
*is a strong home-school advocate.
*relies on God for wisdom, but doesn't use his "faith" to win an election.
*believes life begins at conception and as an OB/GYN, delivered over 4,000 babies.
*has been married to one woman for over 50 years.
*upholds the Constitution and votes "NO" on items contrary to it.

When I'm no longer here, I hope my family remembers that I was a little crazy, that I refused to throw away any Ohio State Buckeyes sweatshirts, that I wasn't afraid to make a fool of myself to get my point across.....and that I didn't regret, for one second of my life, having tenacity.

Skipping Christmas

Of slight interest: My Aunt Millie is related to my sister's Aunt Myrtle and this post is actually intended for our church newsletter, so if you're a church friend reading this, sorry about the repeat! (grin)

Would you believe I never put the Christmas decorations away last year? I intended to return them to their appropriately festive red and green plastic tubs in the basement, but time has a tendency to skip merrily along, so there sit the ribbons and gold angels, in a laundry basket on top of the refrigerator. Occasionally, they call my name - usually when I’m reaching in the fridge for a spoonful of the chocolate frosting that I’ve hidden on the bottom shelf (behind the science project growing in a sandwich bag). I don’t mean to ignore them, but time has a tendency to skip merrily along. The angels’ identity could have been better preserved if I had remembered to follow through on my idea of covering the basket with a towel to prevent a dust colony from taking up residence. I thought I would get to that eventually, but time has a tendency to skip merrily along.

Christmas lists formerly requesting gifts inspired by Blue’s Clues step aside for gift suggestions inspired by Blue Man Group. Lego's and toy soldiers lie forgotten in the attic, while PlayStation and XBox endlessly amuse. Matchbox cars give way to car keys. Barbie, replaced by mascara and eye shadow, is relegated to a storage room. Clothing was rarely a cherished gift; gift certificates for American Eagle are now perfectly acceptable, because time has a tendency to skip merrily along.

The problem with the whole time-skipping thing is that it just keeps doing it, with no regard to how I feel! It seems like just yesterday the kids were waking us at 5:00 am to tell us Santa had brought presents. Now they’re all old enough to be content with opening presents at a respectable hour, after eating breakfast. Before long, they’ll be calling us to find out what time Christmas dinner is being served.

Maybe I shouldn’t refer to it as “time-skipping”. Maybe a better phrase is “time-saving”. Not taking a short cut, but rather a remembrance of time - a mental scrapbook, so to speak. I’m sure I’m not the only person who gets so involved in daily routine that I forget to enjoy the daily routine. The little things. The “remember when...” The rituals and traditions, especially holiday traditions. One of our family traditions is to watch “It’s a Wonderful Life” while we’re decorating our Christmas tree. This tradition causes the ritual eye-rolling to commence, and someday will offer the “remember when” conversations. This is an opportunity to time-save.

This Christmas, what can you do to time-save? What is important in your life? Are there things that you can eliminate to help you better appreciate the real reason we have Christmas? Have you considered the idea of slowing down? Do you really need to attend 74 family functions in 2 days? Will Great-Great Aunt Millie really have that breakdown she’s been promising if you don’t let her spend the holidays at your home? Maybe you like your mother-in-law’s fruitcake - tell her! What about starting a new tradition, like inviting a lonely co-worker to Christmas dinner? or temporarily, for the holidays, adopting a family less fortunate than you? or taking a family vacation instead of buying gifts that don’t fit, require too many batteries, won’t start, are ugly colors, and/or aren’t worth remembering two days later? or just taking a few days off work to relax? It’s ok to do that, really!

Have a blessed holiday season, and remember that Jesus came to give you life abundant, so enjoy!

Ron Paul, Please Come to Ohio and Watch the Buckeyes with Us

A sign that perhaps my kids actually do hear me when they’re pretending to ignore me: the other night, Tom was watching the Ohio State game.
Ok, before I go any further, I must tell you about HOW Tom watches the game.

We recently decided that paying for satellite TV is not only not in the budget, but that it offers so many choices, most of them meaningless, of shows to watch that we would do away with it altogether. (Perhaps a temporary decision, but that remains to be seen.) Regardless of the permanency of the viewing options, football remains a sport that we all love to watch, particularly when it comes to the Buckeyes. With the exception of Preston, who adamantly remains a loyal Wolverines fan, our entire family is quite supportive of OSU football.
Ok, again before I go any further: Mom is a little more than supportive - Mom is sometimes a raging fanatic who screams at the television to the point of embarrassing the kids when there isn’t even any one not related to us in the house. “Mom, give it a rest, would you?!?” But I digress...

Anyway, after borrowing a ladder from the nice neighbors, Tom and the boys disassembled the necessary components and returned them to the service provider. We were all a little sad to see the TV screen go to static, but as soon as I had the cords properly reconnected between the DVD/VCR players and the back of the television, we at least had a wonderful shade of blue nothingness to look at when Lightning McQueen finished the final round of the race by pushing The King across the finish line to the roar of the sold-out stadium.

So now, we were left to our own devices (the church I grew up in would probably consider it a vice, as opposed to a device, but again I digress so I’ll save that post for another day) when it came time to figuring out how we would survive without cheering on our favorite team, led by gray-haired Jim Tressel who reminds me of my own red-haired Uncle Jim. Tom attempted to repair the outside antenna, but considering his disability in scaling buildings sans Spiderman-like capabilities, combined with his dislike of ladders at heights greater than his own height, he was quite limited in what he could actually accomplish from ground level.

To compensate, my ingenious husband did the following: placed the 9 inch TV on a kitchen chair near a window; connected a cable to the TV and pushed the other end of this cable through a small opening by the window frame; attached the outdoor end of the cable to indoor rabbit ears located on the porch; climbed on a step ladder perched on the wheelchair lift and hoisted the rabbit ears into the eave spout; taped the rabbit ears firmly in place; yelled for Mom to watch the screen, relay information to Bucky, Bucky to stand by the door and yell the relayed information to Dad; yelled “better?” dozens of times as he fidgeted with the rabbit ears until Mom relayed to Bucky to yell to Dad that it was good; strolled back inside with a satisfied grin on his face and promptly sat down to enjoy a stirring, if slightly fuzzy but victorious, sporting event.

But as for the idea that my kids ingest and retain information I freely spout, again I say this may be a reality. My reasoning behind this theory is this: while Tom was watching the football game last weekend, Savannah and I were sitting on the couch with him. During a commercial break, one of the advertisements that aired was a political ad for Steve Buehrer, who is campaigning to become the next U.S. Representative for the 5th Congressional District of Ohio. The statements being made were about lowering taxes, but no names had been mentioned. Savannah pipes up and says "Ron Paul!"

Maybe next week she’ll be toting signs around town with the words "Hope for America, Hope for My Generation" emblazoned in bright blue and red.

So Much More Than Pro-Life

I lived in Cincinnati when the first election in which I exercised my right to vote occurred. (For whatever reason, I had apparently not been politically-minded enough to show up for the first Presidential election I could have participated in 2 years earlier. My shoes and purse probably didn't match, or something.) It was 1990, and Ohio was, among other things, electing a governor (Voinovich won), deciding if it wanted a casino (Ohio didn't), choosing whether or not to amend the state constitution to allow the government to provide housing assistance through private lenders (yes, but not by a wide margin). Having not been provided quality education in government class, and having not been inclined to study on my own, I was severely un-informed about how the whole system worked. I knew that my family spouted Republican mantras, (though I was completely unaware if anyone in my family actually voted), and that Republicans were supposedly "pro-life". I was "pro-life". Hmmmmmm...

(Maybe I should mention here that up to this point in life, the only political experience to which I could personally attest was introducing Geraldine Ferraro, portrayed by a fellow student for whom I wasn't fond, at our school's mock election in 1984. Hmmmmmmm...)

That first Tuesday in November of 1990 dawned, and feeling a bit excited, I reported for duty at the over-sized church down the street from my apartment. After checking in with the little old ladies manning the frontlines, I received instructions and cast my first official ballot.

I must admit, I did waver when I got to the choice of Secretary of State, but let me explain why. Earlier that spring, near the beginning of April, I had the opportunity to walk in the Cincinnati Reds' Opening Day Parade, which was a fun, albeit unseasonably chilly, experience in itself. I was actually allowed this privilege because my then-current employer was herself an employee of Sherrod Brown, who was running for Secretary of State - on the Democratic ticket. This presented a minor dilemma since I actually KNEW the man - sort of - after all, I had smiled, waved, and probably passed out candy and tablets of writing paper in support of Mr. Brown, while he sat like a king on the back of a convertible, riding through the streets of downtown Cincinnati. (Would this qualify as another personally-attested-to political experience?) But in the end, once I stood behind the curtain at the voting booth, common sense and tradition won out. My family and I were "pro-life". My family, and therefore I, were Republican. So, straight down the ticket, wherever it said "Republican", I said "Count on me". Besides, I no longer worked for that lady, so I figured my loyalty couldn't be called into question. Exiting from the church with my "I Voted Today" sticker on my shoulder, (I always envied my elementary teacher, Miss Beal, when she arrived at school wearing hers), I sensed patriotism exuding from my very being. (I've been waiting for an opportunity to use the word exude for decades!)

Two years later, when the next Presidential election rolled around, I was prepared. By that time, I was married, had one baby, and another one on the way. I really CARED this time! I cared so much, I even dragged my baby, in the pouring rain, to the Toledo Airport, so I could SEE and HEAR incumbent Republican President Bush stand on the steps of Air Force One and pledge everything but the kitchen sink to us. I was an American. I was a Republican. President Bush was "pro-life"! My heart sank, and I was sure America would fall apart when Bill Clinton won the election. But then four years later, he won again! Although America hadn't yet fallen apart, surely it would during this four years of Democratic nonsense. By this time, I had realized that not only were Republicans "pro-life", they were also "pro-gun", which the Democrats hated. My dad and brother were hunters when I was growing up, so I certainly couldn't be anti-guns! Charleton Heston was Moses! Moses was in the Bible! The Bible is PRO-LIFE!!

Year 2000 - I had 4 children now. I had slightly more knowledge about how to vote, but that knowledge was, for the most part, related to local school levies, and state representatives' stand on issues (were they "pro-life", mostly, but also school choice positions and homeschool friendliness - I was testing the waters). I had some reservations about the Republican party, but the Republicans were a whole lot better than Al Gore! Who knew what road HE might lead America down! He was a Global Warming freak anyway! My defense for the lack of more thoughtful voting was that I had so many other fires to fight with having a special needs child that I couldn't be expected to know EVERYthing. It wasn't a false statement. I do have a special needs child who requires a lot of non-typical care. My ballot reflected the usual choices and I breathed a giant sigh of relief when the last hanging, dimpled, illegal CHAD was counted and the result was a Republican Presidency.

2004 and I am having major issues with some of the Republicans issues. I have no interest in the Democratic Botox King, but even as I cast my standard vote, I am questioning why I'm doing this. I am doubting my choices, yet figuring they can't be as bad as the others.

As I stood in the voting booth in November of 2006, it took me much longer to put the final decision on paper. I, for the first time, deliberately did NOT vote on some lines, because there was no good choice. Does the end justify the means? Is it OK to hunt down Saddam? I thought 9/11 was to be blamed on the Taliban.?? Oh come on! Everyone knows he had WMD somewhere! I waffled between being happy he's gone (he was a bad guy, you know!) and a sadness at the loss of a life God created. Why is my library record any one's business but my own? Why does Washington need to know what I'm researching on the Internet? When did my right and responsibility to make Godly decisions regarding my children's health become the government's business? How long before my local government decides they need my back yard for some greater good? Who sent the Census Bureau worker to my front door to ask how many toilets our home has and what time we go to work? Why did he persist, to the point of having to be forcibly escorted off our porch by my husband, when we refused to tell him anything more than how many people we have in our home? Should I hand him the dictionary with "enumerator" highlighted? Are my pockets supposed to be open to the public for funding expensive new facilities for a failing school system? Why is my family required to participate in paying for education practices that directly contradict our own beliefs? Will I be able to legally exercise Biblical principles in disciplining and training my children and grandchildren in the years to come? Am I SURE that "pro-life" really means "pro-life"? EVERYwhere? Why is the American public content to accept what it is told, as truth, when that "truth" is completely made-up hogwash? Are there still any true conservatives?

I can complain about circumstances until I'm out of breath. I can point at corrupt politicians until my fingers fall off. I can mutter about apathy until I'm old enough to wear a red hat. I can sing till the cows come home. What that will get me is cracked ribs from CPR, a visit to a prosthetic specialist, snickered at by my sisters, and a neighborhood BBQ in my backyard. While the BBQ might be a good idea, I don't much relish anything else on that list. (The red hat thing should also get me a trip to a psychiatrist, but that's another post.)

What I want is answers to my questions. Now it's much more important to me that I understand WHAT I'm voting for, rather than only WHO. One of the things I enjoy the most about homeschooling my kids is that as I'm teaching them, I'm learning or re-learning right along with them. In researching Presidential candidates over the last several months, I've realized that too many people and organizations have the flawed idea, as I did, that you vote for someone that you think can win, or think can beat Hillary. I've been trying to teach my kids for years to do the right thing no matter what everybody else does, but was I living that principle?

I still am pro-life. I still think having guns is a pretty good thing. I still detest having to pay for the new public school being built two blocks from my home. I still like Moses, and I still say I'll never (?) wear a red hat.

And yes, Virginia, there are still CONSERVATIVES. Here's one!