Musings

On Becoming a Young Lady . . .

2011-02-07T10:30:00.006-05:00

Oh, my almost 11 year old daughter has been doing that for a while now - she has become long and lean (like a bean! we say), and we've started buying certain "undergarments." She's began styling her own hair more, wearing lip gloss (that is all we allow for makeup at this point) and using glittery, scented bath gel and lotions.

However, this weekend allowed me that rare opportunity to see my daughter look and act more like a young lady than any other, and it was nothing more than the simple task of selling Girl Scout cookies.

She wants to try for the first recognition level of "Walkabout," which involves a serious amount of selling door to door. We set out yesterday; she donned her Cadette sash and a small, purple, Girl Scout, money-collection apron, and with her long (oh, she so needs a trim) blonde hair swaying as she walked, she set out.

She confidently approached the first door, her cookie bag in hand (easier than dragging the giant wagon up to the door), and rang the bell. When the occupant opened the door, she delivered her line: "Would you like to buy some girl scout cookies?" and when the occupant asked what flavors were available, Kaya patiently pulled the cookie boxes from her bag, one at a time, explained the cookie flavors, and offered options if they could not decide. Then, when they paid her, she made change for them, pocketed the profits so as not to drop the money, thanked them, and turned to me with a huge smile of success. She had to sell 25 boxes that one day to reach that level, and she did it.

I do not approach the door -- I stay back on the sidewalk, standing guard over the wagon o' cookies and watch my daughter work. From behind I almost don't recognize her, this tall, blonde, confident young woman selling cookies to learn about running her own business. Her optimism in the face of adversity (one day we hit 8 houses on a quick spree, and not a single person bought cookies), her confidence in conversing with adults, and her ability to handle the money show that my baby girl is no longer a baby but growing into a strong young woman.

Sometimes I will catch sight of her when she is not looking at me, and she has a small smile on her face as she concentrates on a project, unconsciously flipping her hair out of the way, and she has this ethereal beauty and contentment that I never had and have never seen before. She is growing so fast, yet she is ready and conquering this phase of life, embracing changes and new experiences, and although she still is, to me, my thoughtful, artistic, unique baby, when I see her in those moments, I glimpse the woman she will become, and my breath catches and my heart breaks, both for what is gone, and for all the wonders of life that lie ahead for her.

Watching them turn into adults

2010-12-15T11:22:00.002-05:00

My son turned 14 this weekend, and since he is my oldest, he is my reference for watching the kids grow up. While there will be many differences when my daughters kick 'growing up into high gear, for right now, he is my responsible grown up in training.

And it wasn't his birthday or the small trip to Disneyland with us and his best friend that really called by attention to it all, but the fact that Christmas is just around the corner.

Here he is, ready for presents galore with both his birthday and Christmas in the same month. No child is richer than my son in December; however, we do have to focus on holiday gifts for everyone. Typically, Craig and I help the kids buy gifts for the siblings and mom and dad. They pay for part of it and we pick up the rest. It has become a fun tradition for us to all go shopping the weekend before Christmas, and the kids love selecting gifts for everyone.

This year, about 2 weeks ago, as we finished up lunch, my son asked if there was anything, "like a game or anything," (his words) that Craig and I wanted for Christmas. At first I though he meant a video game, but then he clarified, "no, a family game, like Catan or something, that you and dad want." And it hit me; this year we will not be helping our son pay for the gifts he buys. He has worked hard, saved babysitting money and allowance, and has his budget and idea list in hand. He hasn't been this excited since he bought me a ring when he was five (his little song then? "I bought a present for someone I love . . . " I will NEVER forget the song or the ring), but this is significantly different.

I joke with the kids that if they could drive, they could probably live on their own since they are so self sufficient. But there is more to living on one's own that makes one an adult. A responsible grown up saves for a rainy day or upcoming expenses, anticipates future needs, plans accordingly, and considers the needs and desires of others.

My son is well on his way to becoming a wonderfully responsible "grown up." And while it hurts my heart to see my sing-song little boy now as a young man, I love the young man he is becoming, and in a way, I can't wait to see my girls do the same. Moments like these are the true gifts in life. Of all the gifts I receive, the blessing of my children and family is the absolute greatest.

Merry Christmas, and may you find your greatest gifts as well.

Oh lost knowledge . . .

2010-10-28T14:52:00.002-04:00

Today in class my college students were to watch Sling Blade and begin work on an essay comparing elements of that film to the book Of Mice and Men. Singularly, this is one of my favorite assignments to work on in the class -- very literary, interesting topics -- overall a strong unit. Quid pro quo: Sling Blade can be a rough film at times, so when I have students 16 or under, I tell them don't show up and instead watch Simon Birch, still a strong film that contains similar elements, only in a prettier package. I understand that though Sling Blade is the stronger film, for younger students, it may not be appropriate.

Half way through the movie, two students got up and walked out, and asked me if they could watch a different film. Evidently, the harsh language (in one scene only , for the most part) and the R rating when against their religion. I referred them to Simon Birch and they left.

Here is my rhetoric about it, and please don't throw eggs! I understand religious conviction, but at the same time, I am saddened about the knowledge they will lose in the name of religion. Don't try to call me out to the carpet on the "religion" aspect - I am a homeschooling Catholic Christian for goodness sake! But hiding knowledge is not part of my agenda, and I don't think it is part of God's as well. We've seen what happens when a religion hides from knowledge, or tries to hide it from others; the Catholic Church made that attempt in the Middle Ages and "hello" Protestant Reformation!

God does not want us to hide from knowledge - He tried that once in the Garden of Eden and saw how that worked. Of all people, God's people should not be an ignorant populous. God wants educated people, people who read the Bible AND more. The more knowledge one has, the better one can study his/her religion, teach it to others, and defend against it. While the language in the film was bad, the themes of the film bespoke such greater purpose, and for these students, that knowledge is forever lost. They now cannot evaluate, assimilate, analyze, or discern any of that information - they purposely elected ignorance over learning, and that is a choice I just cannot understand.

Socially, it is bad as well. I give them credit for standing up for their beliefs, but to what end? In America, we cry and cry over the loss of academics on our youth - who then grow into ignorant adults. If they are unknowledgeable about some of the more gruesome horrors of the world, how can they then stand up against those when it matters? Evil does not always present loudly; it creeps in on quiet footsteps until we are intimate with it and no longer cringe from its presence. In American, our Evil is a willingly uneducated population, but the uneducated masses don't know. We have seen this before too, in Nazi Germany - first a cleansing of the music, then the books, then the Jews. And their excuse? "We didn't know." In America, we wonder how they could look evil in the face and not see it, but if it creeps and becomes your friend, you DON'T know.

That is the point - film and literature deal with elements, characters, and themes that directly reflect on social mores, life, and the human condition. The ability to identify those elements, learn from them, analyze and evaluate them, is a indisputable part of knowledge and rhetorical ability. While the content may have been less than pleasing at times, as adults, they should use that opportunity to wrestle with those elements and themes, and apply their Biblical rhetoric to show the human failing or the lack or moral rectitude. They could have elected to become more knowledgeable, to see how their religious standpoint would concern itself with such behaviors.

Instead, in their ignorance, they will let the Evil in, and allow it to creep a little closer.

Newest writing book!

2010-07-07T15:47:00.001-04:00

A great resource (I think) for teaching poetry to elementary students!

http://www.lulu.com/product/paperback/poetry-writing-for-grades-3-6/11712879

Zoe update

2010-04-02T10:47:00.002-04:00

Good news is the dog is like Lazarus - pretty much rose from the dead and has come back to us.

Bad news is this WHOLE event could have been avoided if the vet had told us, just ONCE, to give her some honey after she has a seizure.

Karo syrup would work, too.

Evidently the brain has a sugar level (those who are hypoglycemic understand how this works) and when dogs have seizures, the sugar level in the brain decreases a bit, and it can take time to rise.

The problem occurs in that if the sugar levels don't get back up, that can trigger ANOTHER seizure, which AGAIN lowers the brain sugar levels, which can cause ANOTHER seizure . . . see where I am going with this? Our poor doggy was in an endless loop, and I guess my continually asking the vet "What can I do for her?" wasn't enough.

The vet told Craig the dog would make a full recovery (and he said this in front of my 13 yr old son - really does the man have even half a brain?) and that we should give her some karo syrup to help maintain her sugar levels. Really - file this under "things you could have told me YESTERDAY."

That is was really ticks me off the most - that my dog suffered and has some minor brain issues (she is now a "special" dog) because my vet could not be bothered to tell me, anytime in the 8 months she's had this problem, to give her sugar. My dog suffered for two days and almost died in a diabetic coma in the backyard because my vet couldn't be bothered to tell us three words: give her sugar.

So we are now looking for a new vet, one who maybe has more than half a brain and cares about the animals, not the payment he will receive when we bring a half dead dog into his office.

But, Zoe is doing well and did make a fine recovery, though she is "rediscovering" her world. Good news is she remembers some of her basic commands and that she adores balls and frisbees. And if she forgot who we are, at least she seems to have fallen back in love with us.

Going into that long goodnight

2010-03-12T10:01:00.002-05:00

Zoe is our bright and adorable collie/Australian shepherd mix dog. We took her off the hands of our next-door neighbor in Michigan when they lacked the requisite brain cells to have their dog fixed - thus resulting in 8 (yes - 8!) puppies! Of course they tried to pawn those puppies off on everyone, and my kids (aged 2, 6, and 9) went ballistic. Of COURSE they wanted a puppy - who doesn't puppies are cute; that is God's way of insuring you continue to care for them until they are grown.

I told the children, if there one of the chocolate brown girl puppies still available, we will get her. Otherwise it was no deal. So OF COURSE the lady had a chocolate brown girl (little did I know she would grow into a beautiful blonde!) so we got her. When Zoe came into the house, she was the tiniest little thing - Kaya would put her in her stroller and wheel the puppy around the kitchen.

We cage trained her and behaviorally trained her, since I don't have much patience at all. And what a reward she was - she caught on and was so obedient! One morning, when she was now all grown up) she was in her cage and could see out the back window at the deer in our back yard. She knew she wasn't allowed to bark in the house, so she kept making this low "wuuf" sound instead of a bark. It cracked me up that she was trying to "whisper bark."

Her favorite thing in all the world, outside of my son that is, would have to be the frisbee. She could actually catch them in mid-air! Just like the trained dogs at the fair or at Sea World! The kids thought it was the best trick ever. And if she got off her leash and didn't want to come back, all we had to do was show her the frisbee and she would come a runnin'!

When we had to move to California, she was the pet that was still young enough to go. She was only three at the time, and we got her a dog seatbelt for the car. She sat in the back with Aden, on her pillow on the seat, and was the most well behaved dog of all time. She didn't climb around; she didn't bark (naturally); she just sat patiently next to her Boy, as though she knew this was an important moment and she was taking it all in.

She became much more spoiled when we moved to CA, as we lived in a little apartment with no real patio, so she became much more of an indoor dog. While she did miss the snow (she loved catching snowballs in her mouth!), she enjoyed the life of leisure inside the apartment even more! We put her dogbed in Aden's room, and she was in Heaven, sleeping under his loft bed every night. We did not live the best life in this apartment, and for a year and a half, Zoe was Aden's only real friend.

After we almost killed her with some bad flea treatment, and got her funny hives under control, we moved to our current house, where, for the first time ever, Zoe had a back yard with a fence. This meant no more leashes; she could run free to her heart's content in that back yard, and there was not one place she left untouched. Even though it was mostly dirt, she loved her freedom. The kids would spend lots of time with her in the back, throwing balls and frisbees, and she was happy.

Then we got the pools, and if it is possible for a dog to be ecstatic, it was she.

Much like the snowballs of Michigan, Zoe loved having WATER thrown at her - again she would try to catch it in her mouth! So when we got the pool and would splash around, she would run around the pool, jumping and barking, playing with the splashing kids and catch as much water as she could until she gave out and crashed in the shade.

Then that same summer, she started having seizures. Not little ones, big ones. Ones that left a bloody, urine and vomit mess in the bathroom. We got her some meds, started keeping her more outside and in the garage and the meds managed her seizures a bit. When they came back, we got her more meds, but they slowed her down. When we forgot to refill the script for 2 weeks, and realized she didn't have a seizure that whole time, we took her off them for a bit, and our energetic Zoe was back. She was chasing balls and frisbees again, playing with the kids, and Aden started taking her for walks in around the neighborhood.

Then this week she had about three seizures in two days, so we knew it would be another trip to the vet and more meds. Then on Thursday morning, she had such a large one, or enough of them, that her brain started breaking down. She didn't recognize us (still so friendly and docile and loving though - the brain damage didn't change the core personality, her soul possibly?) and Craig put her in the back yard. She wasn't walking well, and she couldn't seem to see well either. It was funny to watch her walk around and try to climb on things, but in such a sad way.

Over the course of Thursday, she had at least one more seizure, and now the Zoe's knowledge of us was gone; we were just some nice people in the house who fed her, when she could find the food bowl. We tried to get her into the garage last night, but she wouldn't come in the house and I wasn't about to force her. Plus, though it would be cold at night, she was probably safer in the backyard than the garage with all the bikes and tools and such. Aden and I got her a warm blanket and showed her where is was a few times, and spent some time trying to play with her a bit, and pet her. She was stumbling around badly at this point, and Aden knew; he knew that this was the end and cried and cried and I cried with him.

Today we woke up and she is pretty much gone - I was surprised she made it through the night. We have an appt. with the vet this afternoon, but I don't think she will make it. We will have to call him this morning and set up a different type of visit. Zoe's seizures are almost constant; she can't walk much at all, and I'm so glad Craig is staying home - I wasn't sure how I was going to get the dog into the van to even get her to the vet. She is laying down a lot, is a daze, with drool from her most recent seizure hanging from her mouth, and she is not there. Our dog is gone; her body has just not caught up with her yet.

So today Craig and Aden (if he wants to go) will take her to the vet for her last visit. They may have to carry her, and I have a blanket ready to go. It's one that a friend, who has a special fondness for dogs, gave us years ago. I thought it fitting to give it to Zoe as we say our final goodbyes to a dog I didn't really want, but ended up nuzzling her way into all our hearts. I pray for strength for both myself, but more for my son, who is losing one of his closes friends.

I believe there is a special Heaven for dogs, where there will be plenty of meat scraps from the table, lots of balls and frisbees, and God's loving hands rubbing her belly whenever she wants.

End O' the Year Missive:

2009-12-21T10:42:00.001-05:00

I will be the first to admit that the latter part of the first decade of the third millenium left many people wondering just when they got dumped off the Merry-go-round. Unemployment, foreclosures, bankruptcy, became household watchwords of despair. Several people have even gone to far as to say this decade was worth less, feign to say "how can it get worse" and are either hoping for better in the next year, or at least want to forget this one.

That is where the idea of "beauty is in the eye of the beholder" really comes into effect. Forget this past decade, or this past year? Yes, we need to do what we can to create a better year overall for ourselves, our communities, our country, but if at the very least we don't learn from our mistakes, how can we grow from them?

But more than that, I beg to differ that the decade of 2000-2009 was one to forget. While there were moments of "less than ideal," every day brings its own challenges; "Sufficient unto the day is the evil thereof" (book of Matthew) has been my mantra for several years - focus on today, and let today take care of itself first. In this light, I embrace the challenges we've had, and I look forward to more to come in the new year. Why focus on the negative, when all this is ephemeral; we are so limited on time, let's focus on all the good of the past ten years.

Why? Why would I welcome something that could be so detrimental? Because in mine eyes, the past ten years are ones I want to remember until the moment I leave this earth. And if the next ten are half as wonderful, I will one of the most fortunate people on earth. For this was the decade that saw the birth of my daughters; the ability for us to purchase three houses (not all at once, of course); moving back to California; the making of life long friends; the establishment of great careers; the wholeness of our family; the growth of my children into strong and beautiful young people; vacations; celebrations of birthdays, holidays, and accomplishments galore. These are the moments that will forever burned into my mind, and when the challenges arise, it is memories like these that will carry the day.

Yes, we've had hardship this decade too, loss of a father, sickness and hospitalization, death of a pet, financial insecurity, job loss . . . but these things happen all the time. But to want to forget those - then how can we grow and learn from those events? Every decade, every year, every day is filled with challenges - the Chinese have a saying, "May you live in interesting times," which is a threat; it means may you have much upheaval in your life. And who doesn't? But what we do and what we focus on during that upheaval is what makes life "good" or "bad," not the events inherently.

For those of you for whom the past decade has been one you just want to forget, you have my sincerest sympathies; however, I beg you not to forget that decade. Don't decry it as the worst decade ever. Think instead of the joys of that decade, no matter how minor they are.

From my perspective, sitting in my warm house, listening to the sounds of my children playing, waiting for the glory and joy that is Christmas, I don't feel the last ten years have been a loss, a decade to forget. On the contrary, these ten years are engraved on my mind for all time, and I hope that others also find the joy in the past ten years. Yes, we want to make the next ten better in many respects, but in my life, I don't know if I could handle that much joy.

Drum Roll Please . . .

2009-11-28T22:14:00.000-05:00

http://igethalf.blogspot.com/

Reassessment

2009-11-13T10:47:00.003-05:00

I had an epiphany yesterday, and not necessarily the good kind. However, the resulting actions I take ARE a good thing.

So we returned from the park yesterday, and between the cool air and cold wind, we were freezing. My son tore his knee up at the park pretty badly, so we decided to skip Tae Kwon Do that night and just go to youth group later. That gave us an extra few hours at home to hang out. With that in mind, plus, since we were icy from being outside, I decided some hot chocolate was in order.

Then, it hit me that we had tortillas in the house, and wouldn't a great snack be tortillas toasted in the oven with butter, cinnamon, and sugar? I though it would be - so I made some for the kids and I. Once everything is ready to serve, we all sat together at the table and enjoyed our very new snack. The kids had never had the "homemade churros" before; in reality, I had never made them before. I was totally winging it!

As we finished and cleared the plates, my son comments on how fun that was. He says, "You don't do stuff like this very often." That actually stopped me in my tracks. I froze. "What do you mean, buddy? I make stuff all the time." "Yeah," he replied, "you make basic stuff, not stuff like this usually." At first I was taken aback - I do make "different" stuff; it is just usually fruit based and he does not care for fruity desserts and snacks.

But then I let my ears hear what he was really saying - we don't do stuff like stop in the middle of the afternoon, make a new snack, and just enjoy each other for a while. And he is right, and that is totally my fault.

When I started homeschooling, I did it because I adore being with my kids and get a kick out of teaching them. For many years we did school, but life was just as important. However, once we moved out to California, started working with a charter, had all the extra curricular activities and the like, suddenly we were all schoolwork, running around, and activities. Even on our days home, it was all school, chores, get it done. Then, by the later afternoon, we are all beat and I am ready for a nap! This was not how I wanted my school to work.

I had assessed this earlier when I realized the co-op at the church was just not working for us, so I had to stop that. Teaching those classes from my house a bit later in the afternoon works better for my schedule. But then I am still doing a co-op with friends, and we still have our extra curriculars that the kids love -they are having fun! So what to do?

It hit me when the teacher we work with for the charter commented on how much work we completed one month, even when the kids were sick! And she is right - academically, I demand a lot from the kids, and they rise to those expectations beautifully. But why is my focus so heavily on those academics when I, we, want more than that? Since we have to meet with the teacher one Monday a month, which means we lose that day for "school" for the most part, I decided to commandeer that day overall.

After our morning sports class, my kids are mine - it will be our day as a family. No school, just games, movies, baking, crafts, adventures in new places, visits with friends, that is our day to be a family again. I want to feel that contentment with my children that we used to have - and I think my taking back just one day, we can do it. We like the school schedule, the activites, the busyness, but we miss the perks of slower days. Monday is going to become that day. What a great way to start the week.

Get Writing, and Get My New Book!

2009-11-02T20:49:00.002-05:00

You can find my book on creative writing at lulu.com! Here is the link:

http://www.lulu.com/product/paperback/bibliophile/5942135

Happy Writing!

I sit here listening . . .

2009-09-16T01:04:00.002-04:00

listening to the type type typing of fingers
on a warm keyboard
as cool breezes tickle my elbows and toes.

I sit here listening
listening to outside sounds
insects, dogs, and the passing cars
that are for once not drag racing, yet.

I sit here listening
listening to that quiet
that only comes once all the children
are asleep in their beds.

The house sighs with me.
I sit here listening
listening to the house sigh
of delicate sounds
of evening air
of children's breaths

I sit here listening.

(Michelle Dalrymple, 2009)

On My Team!

2009-07-27T20:37:00.002-04:00

Even though I often want to believe I can do everything myself, I know I can't. Sometimes the most important thing I can have is a team in my corner, working for me.

Usually, that team is pretty much my hubby. It might be my sister, mom, or kids, but often it is Craig and I against the world. However, when something comes up that is beyond our mortal ken, like this past week with our littlest, we need more team members. And I found them.

After the most agonizing week with a primary care physician who won't see us unless we use his urgent care (not even for a follow up from the ER?! Are you kidding me?!), I called a doctor who came as a referral from another urgent care facility. I called his office on Thursday morning after poor Soph's ear looked like it exploded. He answered the phone - so at that point I had spoken to our soon to be new doctor more than our current doctor! After listening to our trials of the week, his first words were: "Can you get her here tomorrow at 8:15?" Of course, I could! By now, this doctor had DONE more than my doctor did for the whole 3 months we were is patients! My biggest concern: our insurance does not flip to him as our primary care provider until August 1. We are one week out from that.

His response: "We will either get you squished in, or we will waive the fee. Just get her here." I am totally willing to pay whatever I need to for my daughter, but already I felt relieved that here was someone else, someone who doesn't even know us, showing more concern for her than most other medical personnel in the past week. I was ecstatic. New team member number one.

We get her there right on time; he explains to his staff what we need to do with the insurance, and his receptionist gets on the line with our insurance. I knew she would get them to cover the bill, because as I went into the exam room with Soph, this is what I heard her say: "I understand that, but we have a little girl who just had a seizure, needs to see a primary care physician, and needs medical care now. Do you want her to have another seizure because she can't get in to see the doctor?" New team member number two.

The nurse who first saw us before the doctor came in was more than courteous and told me that we could not have picked a better doctor - she actually followed him from the urgent care office to this new office just to work for him. New team member number three.

The doctor and his office took great care of Sophie, fixed our insurance to cover the bill, and want her back in the office this week for another follow up. And while it took some trauma to get here, it was a result of our other horrible doctor that led us to Dr. Nguyen. I guess there is a silver lining to every bad situation. I love our new team!

The past revisited

2009-07-21T11:08:00.004-04:00

The one thing a mother should never wear is a shirt with her daughter's blood on it. But that is exactly what I wore to the ER last night after a very strange misadventure.

Sophie was supposed to be in bed, but in a moment of bad judgment, decided to pick up one of the cats. She mishandled the cat so badly that the cat scratched her to get away. That is when I heard the screams.

I go running into the bathroom and Sophie's hand is COATED in blood -- thick and welling. I grab a rag from the closet and press it to her hand to staunch the blood. AT the same time I call to Craig for help - just how bad did the cat get her? Pretty badly -- it seems the cat somehow dug deep enough to hit a vein, hence all the blood.

Craig gets on the phone to the nurses' hotline as I inspect the damage to the hand. Not too bad maybe; the blood has already started to clot, but I can see there is a collection of blood under her skin. So I tell Sophie it doesn't look to bad when she tilts her head up to look at the ceiling. I ask her what she is looking at when her eyes roll back into her head.

I know what this is. I know it because this is what I do -- my baby is having a seizure. She starts to fall but I am still holding her wounded hand, so I half-catch her and guide her to the floor, where she begins to twitch and spasm. I am yelling for Craig to call 911, and I am frantic. I know this misery of a condition like this, and I don't want my daughter to suffer through it.

Craig has the nurse transfer him to 911 and I stop yelling at him, but now I am crying because I am in such a panic. Sophie stops twitching and refocuses her eyes. I can see her confusion, and she asks me, "Why am I not in bed mommy? Wasn't I in my bed?" (my first wake up mantra was "there is no place like home" - perhaps the brain defaults to a place of comfort?). I gather her into my arms, and now she is crying because I am crying, and I am failing to get a hold of myself. I keep telling her, "You're OK, baby! You're OK!" and she keeps repeating, "Why am I not in my bed, mommy?" like we are in a bad movie loop.

Craig hangs up the phone and the emergency team is on the way. He picks her up and we go downstairs. I call a friend to come watch the other two, as this is going to be a late night. The paramedics recommend Sophie go to the hospital, since we have a history of seizure in the family. In the ambulance, Sophie talks and talks and talks non-stop. He takes her temp, and she has a fever. She is very pale.

The ER is not quite the stuff of nightmares, but in a community that grew faster than the hospital, we are close to that. There are four paramedic beds waiting for a real bed, and people are in beds in open areas, in every hall. How are there not enough rooms for everyone? The Dr's first visit occurs while we are waiting in this hall. He checks her over and looks at her stats. It is her fever that gives him a clue to her condition - he thinks the seizure was brought on by a quickly spiking fever, but since she is just a bit out of the age range for that condition, ran interference on the cats, and has the family history, he gets her into a bed, and we begin an evening of tests.

Over the course of 5 hours, Sophie is the lucky recipient of several tests. First they do a chest CT. When we get back, they draw some blood and hook up an IV - she evidently needs fluids. When she says she needs to pee, the nurse hands me a cup. What a fun job for me. Afterwards, it takes Sophie a bit of time to fall asleep, as she is "nervous." At one point she jerks awake quickly and calls out, "Mommy! Mommy where are you?" She is a bit confused but remembers quickly where she is and eventually goes back to sleep. Craig and I doze on uncomfortable chairs, then I awake when I hear a noise right by the door. A large, jovial man has arrived with a wheelchair to take Sophie to have a head CT scan. The machine resembles a giant donut, and the man does a good job of being careful and caring for Sophie. Other than the paramedic in the back of the bus, this man has exhibited the most concern for my baby.

He tells me it will take about an hour for the films, and the dr should see us shortly after that. Once we are back in the bed, one more person arrives; Sophie's final test is an EKG, which is quick and easy. We turn off the light and fall back asleep.

I awake with a jerk as my hand and legs are numb from my sleeping position. Sophie has rolled to her side, and she is shivering a bit since her open backed hospital gown is not covered by the thin blanket. I am wrapped in a sheet because I am dressed for the 110 degree weather from earlier, not this hopsital the temperature of an industrial freezer. I cuddle with Sophie for a bit -- it is now after 3:30. A nurse comes in to look at the scratches on Sophies hand and clean them. She does a good job of getting much of the dried blood off Sophie's hand, and then uses a disinfecting wash to take care of the wounds. Another nurse comes in with the Doctor, and we get the final breakdown.

They don't know what caused the siezure (they never really do, do they?) but they think it was Febrile in nature (due to the spiking fever) but they are not 100% certain. As a result, they recommend taking her to a pediatric neurologist (wow, does history repeat itself!) which will most likely mean either another trip to Rady's children's Hospital in San Diego, but maybe we will get lucky and find a reference for the more local Loma Linda. They also prescribe hard core antibiotics for her hand ( I also hope it helps her ear which they say is not infected, but why else should it hurt so bad?). We receive our final paperwork and thank all the nurses and doctors who did their best and took care of my baby. We left just after 4 am.

We arrived home just around 4:30 am, thanked my friend, and Craig walked her to her car. I got Sophie some cereal and a glass of milk while she lamented her inability to use her right hand - the one of the cat scratches -- as they have it pretty heavily bandaged. She takes a few bites and wants to go to bed. I finish my cereal and tuck her in. She is already asleep.

I need to wash that shirt.

On Personal Responsibility

2009-07-17T10:05:00.002-04:00

My son is 12 - he will be 13 in December, and I am so proud of him.

He just tested for his black belt in Tae Kwon Do, an accomplishment that has been 5 years in the making. Whether or not he passed, though, is not my moment of pride. My moment of pride involves the events leading up to that moment.

We homeschool, and one of the most important things I am trying to impart to my children is their ability to not only teach themselves, but to also have the personal accountability to do the work well (or better) and on time. For 12 yr old boys, this often extends to the realm of sports and video games, and not much else!

For the past month, my son has been working hard. In this month alone he: 1)completed the Weather Merit Badge for Boy Scouts; 2)completed all his requirements (only has meetings left) for his Second Class rank in scouts; 3) worked as an assistant instructor at his TKD studio for 5-6 hours, on top of his 4) 5-6 hours a week of TKD training. He has essentially worked more this month than *I* have, and that is a lot for a 12 yr old.

But it is more than the accomplishments. Not once did I have to say, "Hey, get to work on your Merit Badge!" or "It's time to practice TKD!" He took that initiative all on his own. When I told him he should start working on his merit badge, he showed me that he was already working on it, and had been for the past hour. He finished his presentation for it a month early as well. While I was upstairs with the girls, he asked if he could "YouTube" his forms to make sure he is practicing them correctly - and he did this for at least an hour a day, ON TOP of his 10-12 hours of class each week.

It is the fact that he stepped up, on his own; that he took the initiative to do the work; that he had the presence of mind to say to himself, "This needs to get done, so I better do it now," is something most ADULTS fail to do.

If nothing else in this world, my son has learned to step up and get the job done.
And that, my friend, is success.

I am becoming a hard core blogger

2009-06-13T11:25:00.002-04:00

Instead of working on my books. Bad me! But I look at my blogs as material and notes I can draw from when I do write. I plan on doing a lot of that at the pool while in Vegas. Here is my schedule for Vegas:

Wake up, take pill, go work out for 30 mins, then come back and check email and the like for another 30 min (pill needs an hour to kick in).

Eat my breakfast. This is one area where, if I am having fruit and a granola bar and a glass of milk (my usual) I do not go halfsies. I need those 200-300 calories to start my day and prevent snacking later in the morning. I do only eat half the banana though - I learned recently that half a banana is one serving, so I guess I DO eat my "half" in that respect!

Finish any online work on the laptop. Then change into my (drumroll please) Bikini, grab the laptop, and head to the pool. With some sunscreen and a cool drink, I will begin writing. When the fire of writing burns out, I will then jump in the pool and swim, thus cooling off, and read until I dry off, then start again. I hope to get a huge chunk of writing done over the week!

Around lunch, find something quick and easy that I can cut in half, then go upstairs, shower, and get myself ready to find my hubby at his event. Hang with him and some friends until dinner, the party all night long (or until my bedtime, which is usually about midnight or so)!

Then start all over. I am excited about this writing opportunity - I have never really looked at a vacation as a writing opportunity before, but time to get started!

Vegas, oh ye mecca of partying and writing, here I come!

For more info about "I get half"

2009-06-13T11:14:00.002-04:00

My hubby encouraged me to write about this experience. I am going to blog about it HERE to begin recording my little weight loss adventure. That way I have "notes" if I ever decide to write a book about it!

"I get half" Cult Following

2009-06-13T10:53:00.005-04:00

Evidently, the "I get half" diet has been pretty successful. Not just for me, but for others as well!

It started with my homeschool group - I see them on a regular basis, and they were the first ones to really notice I was dropping weight. When I first told them all what I was doing, I was a bit embarrassed. I mean, really, there is nothing medical or proven about what I was doing. It just seemed like common sense to me that the easiest way to cut back on ALL my caloric intake was to cut it ALL in half. Then I just added in some of my own rules: fewer sweets, snacks had to be either fruit, cereal, or a cereal/granola bar (half, of course), and more exercise. I even picked up some ankle weights to wear around the house for the added caloric burn.

After some "half a gallon of ice cream" jokes, most of the women commented that it made sense and it was easy. No counting calories, keeping track of food, watch fat grams. The easiest way to cut calories is just to honestly CUT them - in half.

I first noticed it in my back - for some reason I was blessed with back fat. UGH. But that started dropping right away, and as a result, most people could see it dropping from my shoulders as well; I have a very defined collar bone now, and some strong tendons/muscles in my neck. Then my pants started falling off and the moms thought that was hilarious. My hubby has been talking about the weight loss for a week or more now, as it really sees it in my face.

So what is the point of all this? That it is funny how some things get started. My homeschool moms love the fact I am losing weight without a "diet" - just common sense. Their reply was pretty much "That is brilliant" and as word has spread, that is the response I get. My baby sitter loved the idea, and now many of the homeschool moms are doing the same thing (with their own little preference changes). I have had a few other people ask me what I was doing to lose the weight, and they all have the same response too: "brilliant!"

But now the word is really starting to spread - my hubby (who has a huge, extended network of people he knows) has been telling people about it when they complain abou their weight. He tells them, "You know, my wife starting losing weight with her "I get half" diet. . ." and gets pretty much the same reaction: "Brilliant!"

The end result is this little experiment I wanted to try to see if it would help me lose some weight has now lit a fire with others as well. I never expected to be a cult icon - but my diet seems to be one! And hey, if it works . . . why not?

Happy Losing everyone! Let's celebrate with half a glass of champagne and half a serving of cake! :)

I get half!

2009-05-11T19:20:00.001-04:00

So, on the cusp of going to Vegas for a work/vacation get a way late in June, I have been trying to get my body ready for a new dress and, at my hubby's request, a bikini. A BIKINI. UGH. I haven't worn one since way before the birth of my third child, over 7 years ago.

My sisters both work out a lot and have great bodies. One sister works for 24-hour fitness, and the other just came in 2nd place in a fitness competition. I didn't not inherit the work-out gene. I am a reader and a writer, not runner or biker. So with a bit of their help and advice, I decided it was time to conquer the treadmill and my diet and get my body Vegas-ready. The spirit is willing; the flesh, weak.

First I really had to commit to the treadmill. I now record most of my TV shows and watch them on the treadmill. I usually can get 20-30 mins a day on the treadmill, plus I use weights and do arm exercises while I walk. Then, once arms are done, I crank up the speed a few notches and jog for a bit, then walk for the remainder of my time. I try to do this 5 times a week. Sometimes I get more, sometime less, but I'm pretty steady.

The most difficult part is the "healthy eating" part. I am not a dieter - I love my chocolate and snacks way too much. I've tried to diet before, and just can't stick to it. I like my junk food too much, and veggies not so much.

I am not into calorie counting - between kids, the house, homeschooling, work, and life in general, I needed something so easy a 2 yr old could do it, and it needed to be cheap. That is when I decided to do the easiest thing I could think of -- cut all the calories in half. That means cutting all the food in half (plus I cut out snacks - I can only have a 1/2 serving of shredded wheat if I'm hungry). If I cut the food in half, I cut the calories in half, simple as that.

So, for the past 4 weeks, I have been going halvsies on everything. The good news is I can still eat much junk and dinner with the kids. And while do get some hunger pangs, they aren't too bad. And, for the past 2 weeks, it has been difficult to eat larger portions or heavier food when I do try.

My stomach is getting used to less, not more, and for the past week, my collar bones have been sticking out -- I am starting to look bony! I used to wear size 16, which now fall off my hips. The size 14s are starting to feel small, and I just put on a size 12, which fit easily, today because I need a new dress for Vegas - and I bought it! Once more size and I will be where I was before I got pregnant with my son; two more and I will be the size I was in high school!

I wasn't huge, but I wasn't happy with my muffin, my back fat, of being the fat sister. I am on my way to losing all three. Who ever said that losing was a bad thing?

The Trials of Laryngitis!

2009-04-21T14:16:00.002-04:00

I am a talker. I love to gossip, talk on the phone; I even lecture once a week as a college prof - for nearly 4 hours! So you can imagine how, lacking a voice, my style is truly crimped.

Every few years or so, I manage to catch a cold, but instead of the standard head cold, it settles into my chest and throat, rendering my voice box useless. While many (not the least my hubby) breath a sigh of relief and this brief reprieve, it does really pose significant difficulties for me. Class on Thursday will be interesting if I don't have my voice back by then. And working with the kids on their school work? So much for read alouds for the next few days. Plus, today I am meeting a old friend whom I hardly ever see - I guess it will be a mostly one sided conversation! UGH.

The good news it usually only lasts for a 3-4 days, so I should be back to my chatterbox self by Thursday or Friday. The down side: making myself heard over my gaggle of kids when they get to playing, fighting, yelling, gaming, etc.

It is going to be a quiet week at our house!

Who in the Hell does he think he is?

2009-04-09T15:31:00.002-04:00

My doctor, I mean.

Envision a typical doctor visit for an initial consult. You are not sick; nothing is wrong; you are just getting the doctor familiar with you. A typical, easy visit, if scheduled at 9 am, will include a 20 minute wait or so, the 20 minute visit, pay, and you are out the door in an hour.

Now for my doctor:
I have a tight schedule today - doctor in the morning, someone coming by right after noon, and I have to be out the door to each by 4 pm. Very tight. My appt was set for 10 am, and I got there 15 minutes early to fill out paperwork or whatever. My esteemed doctor kept us waiting for an hour and 30 minutes, no apologies, nothing. That was the time BEFORE I ever saw his face. We went through my son first, them began with me.

When we were almost done with my consult, my phone went off (LOUD ringing). I went over to it to check if it was the person stopping over (since it was almost noon and I thought I would be home by this time!) and shut it off and he left the room. When he came back he was infuriated that I didn't turn off my phone, and how it cuts into his time (after I just sat there for an hour and a half? Are you KIDDING ME? I am NOT on YOUR schedule buddy!).

Well, THAT flipped my bitch switch, but I took the higher road. I just shrugged and said "Sorry," when I really wanted to let him know what I thought of MY long wait compared to the 15 seconds it took to get my phone. At this point, I was absolutely frazzled. I hate how some people think their time is so much more important, and there are several doctors in our area that would love a reasonably healthy family of 5. My time is just as valuable, if not, more valuable becuase it is MY time, and MY KIDS' time -- and nothing is more valuable than that, especially not some jerk of a doctor I just met.

Then we resumed the consult and finished, and by then he was acting VERY nice and smiling at me - completely different from his character prior to the phone call of death. Then, as he was getting ready to leave the room, he shook my hand, then just kept touching my hand and kept shaking it again -- a bit up close like. What the hell? Was that an apology for being an ass? If so, it was an uncomfortable one!

After almost 2 1/2 hours at the doctor, I am beat. I am willing to see if the relationship gets better. Otherwise, I think I may have to expand the search for a doctor. Let's hope this was just a misstep - I really don't want to search for a new doctor!

But I will. Don't be a jerk to me, especially if I am paying you for a service, even if you are an esteemed doctor. In this economy, I can and will take my business elsewhere.

Adoptions are fun!

2009-02-12T15:26:00.007-05:00

After the sad passing of our Shadow, we mourned for about a day or two when my youngest asked if we can get a new kitty. My loving hubby had already given me the thumbs up on doing this ASAP, so we were ready to go. Imagine my surprise when we couldn't find a kitten to save our souls.

We can't easily adopt from the pound as their "no declawing" rule grossly contradicts my "declaw immediately" law. Nothing on craigslist; nothing in pet stores; nothing from friends. Just when life seemed bleak, a beacon of kitten light appeared by way of a homeschooling friend. She had a neighbor with 2 girl kittens who were headed for the pound if they weren't adopted soon.

She brought them to our park day, and we inspected the kittens, trying to see which we liked more. My son was out-voted, so his choice was put back in her cat carrier while we put our newest member of the family in our little crate.

Then the problem arose - the reject managed to conjure the saddest, most pathetic look and mews known to man. And my soft-hearted son was distressed - he knew the kitten we didn't pick was destined for an unglorious fate. He didn't pester, but he did ask if there was anyway we could take the second one, too.

I admit the kittens were stinkin' cute - how people can NOT adopt kittens is beyond my mortal ken. But that means more work, more $$ for the declaw and spay, more everything. I told him I was not up for it, and I didn't think Daddy would want two cats in the house. Aden asked if he could text daddy and ask him. If dad was OK with it, would I be?

I looked into his earnest face and said, "Sure." I knew my hubby did not want two cats, so we were OK - then Dad's text came through and read "call me" - so I did. He said, "Why not? It will only add to the chaos of the house." I nearly died! He agreed? The kids would be ecstatic!

And they were - we scooped that other kitten out of the carrier, put her in a holey box, and took her home. Stormy managed to dodge the bullet and join her sister Valentine at our house. Two cuddly kittens you've never met - the only way they sleep is entwined with one another.

I told the kids, when Shadow passed, that God had a plan. There was a reason God took Shadow to be with him - maybe there was another cat out there who needed us more. I was wrong. There were two.

The worst week ever.

2009-02-05T16:59:00.008-05:00

That pretty much sums it up. How bad, exactly? Let my make a bulleted list for you, from pretty bad to REALLY bad:

1. My daughter forgot to wear an overnight last night, so I had to change pee-sheets at 2 in the morning.

2. One of my classes this semester seems to be heavily LACKING in the brains department. Can we use just an iota of common sense, please?

3. All three kids, and my hubby, have been sick - I have been eating oranges, grapefruit, Zicam, and Airborne like crazy, and Lysol-ing EVERYTHING to ward off all possible germs.

and the worst:
4. My 7 month old kitty died today . . . due to complications while getting spayed and vaccinated.

And piggy-backing on that:
5. How am I going to tell my kids? Especially my 8 year old who told me a few months ago that her biggest fear was to wake up and find the cat bleeding? Or my son who calls the kitten "his" kitten? Or my little 6 year old who has no idea that pets can die?

Oh my God . . . are you kidding me?

The vet called just a few minutes ago, and you know it is going to be bad when the conversation starts like this: "Hello, Michelle. This is Dr. ----- from the Animal hospital. The reason I'm calling is we had some complications . . . ."

I knew. I knew at that moment. The receptionist calls with good news, the Dr. only with the bad.

Shadow was the tiniest gray kitten - feisty as hell. And she hated you and hissed at you until you grabbed one of her "chase me" toys, then she would let you pet her. She cuddled with me all day yesterday, and every morning she would follow me into the bathroom, purring loud enough to vibrate the walls, as if to say, "I am SO glad you finally woke up!" She loved to chase Sophie's feet, play with the dog, and she could jump almost three feet straight up with a back flip to try and chase one of her cat toys.

I love this cat. Even the vet was crying on the phone, and I am crying now just thinking that I don't get her back on Saturday. Instead, we have to talk to the kids and see if we want to pick up the ashes. Don't mention this to the kids yet if you email or talk to them - they don't know yet. We have to have "the talk" tomorrow morning.

The vet said it was a very rare occurrence, especially in a cat this young, energetic, and healthy. It is almost unheard of.

The last thing we said to the kitten as we left was, "Goodbye Shadow! We love you!"

Goodbye, Shadow. We love you.

OOPS! I Did It Again!

2009-01-06T22:13:00.007-05:00

Writing, that is!

It has been too long since I sat at the computer for me. I teach college English courses online, set up homeschooling lesson plans with my Word program, and surf the internet, reading my email and homeschool blogs, but it has been almost 2 years since I have submitted anything for publication.Well, over the course of my internet wandering, and reading my own recommendations to other writers, I grew tired. I was tired of everyone else writing, but not me. I am a good writer (Heck, I think I'm a great writer!), but you are not REALLY a writer if you don't write. And I haven't been writing. Nothing except intermittent ramblings on blogs, anyhow.

Enough is Enough! I told myself. I sat down after dinner, let the kids game their brains out on the Wii, and put fingers to keyboard. I wrote an interesting piece on a handwriting impediment for Practical Homeschooling Magazine (I've been published there a few time before - great homeschool resource IMO). Whether or not it will be published is still in the air - it is not my typical fare and it is lengthier than my normal submissions. BUT! It was a submission none-the-less. My first in 2 years.

Once again, I can call myself a writer. Now where is my stinkin' Nobel Prize already?

Blessings of Christmas

2008-12-23T17:15:00.013-05:00

For those of you who know our family, you may remember that the last few years have been a bit rough. Needless to say, Christmas, as a result suffered greatly.

Then last year, to add insult to injury we moved cross-country and lived in a rather small apartment, which meant a small tree and limited decorations (what decor I could find that we had packed, anyway!).

To me, this was just miserable. I adore holidays - any cause to celebrate should be thusly celebrated, and Christmas tops the list. I love the lights, the cheer, the food, family and friends, and now that I have children, the wonder that is Christmas. To believe in miracles, in faith, that a fat man in a red suit really will bring presents (oh the presents!) if one is good enough is pure magic. And lacking that, Christmas joy can be hard to come by. It has been hard to come by for the past few years.

This year, however, I tell everyone that we have been blessed. A great new house in a great new neighborhood, secure (for now at least) employment, happier kids, new friends, a second car - it is like a dream. And that is what the blessing has felt like so far -a dream.

For the past few weeks, however, my dream life has become reality. My hubby commented that I have been really, really happy lately (I guess I can be a real downer sometimes), and my son said if that was so, why I have been crying so much. And it is true, I cry at the drop of a hat lately, but I know why. You know the saying "I'm so happy, I could cry"? Well, I am, and I do.

I look at the happiness on the faces of my kids, how they speak to each other nicely, the joy they get from the advent calendar and the holiday movies; I see my hubby take pictures of us Christmas caroling and taking us to see the Christmas lights; I feel the joy of the holidays in my home and I know, I know deep in my heart and soul, that I am truly and undeniably blessed. I pray these blessings carry over into the new year.

I pray that you all may know the blessings I feel this moment.

It was 12 years ago today . . .

2008-12-11T02:44:00.004-05:00

My son turns 12 today.

He is now old enough to babysit. I remember him as a little boy who, when left partially to his own defenses one morning while daddy slept, tried to dress himself. He took clothes out of his dirty laundry and put them on over his pajamas, including 3 pairs of dirty underwear.

My son turns 12 today. He is now in middle school. I remember when he was almost three and just learning his ABCs. He woke me at 5 am one morning, his ABC book clutched in one hand, three crayons clutched in the other. In his most excited voice he chanted, "ABC book, Mommy! ABCs!"

My son turns 12 today. He will receive his red/white belt in Tae Kwon Do this evening. I remember the first time he ever took a sports class. He was two years old and had a mixed sports class for 2-3 year olds taught by Coach Bob. He learned to try to shoot baskets, run laps, and run the bases of a baseball diamond, laughing at every turn.

My son turns 12 today. In four years he will be able to drive a car. I remember the little boy who was addicted to his Matchbox race cars. Every day he would line them up in the living room, congested lines of traffic across the carpet, complete with the "VROOM" sound for full effect.

My son turns 12 today. His favorite movies are the likes of X-Men and Spiderman. I remember when he first saw "Toy Story" by Disney. He got his Woody doll for Christmas that year from my sister and that doll never left his side. By the time he retired it, Woody's hair was mostly worn away, four fingers on his left had were broken off, and the push button that mimicked the pull string was gone.

My son turns 12 today. He is working on earning his merit badge for swimming. I remember the summer we scrimped and saved for a summer membership to the local pool. It was a zero depth pool complete with a small frog slide for the kiddies, and he would spend hours going up and down that little water slide, splashing the mornings away.

My son turns 12 today. Now he sleeps up in a loft bed in a room all his own. But I remember when he used to crawl into bed with us. He would either sleep at the foot of the bed like a puppy, or curl up with me, his blankie in hand. I still remember the silky feel of his hair against my cheek and his soft baby smell of shampoo and baby lotion.

My son turns 12 today, and while I am so excited to see him grow into a wonderful young man, I am grateful for the memories of the past 12 years. He may no longer be a baby, but I can still be with my baby boy whenever I need to, if only in my mind. I thank God for those 12 years, and I pray that I may be gifted with another 12 years, then another, then too many to count. I pray that the memories never end.

My son turns 12 today, and I love him more today than the day he was born, and I never thought such a thing was possible.

Happy Birthday, my baby boy.

Do you feel Wicked?

2008-11-27T09:22:00.010-05:00

I am still recovering. I have always enjoyed theater, especially musicals, but with three kids and a limited budget, I do not have the opportunity to attend as often as I would like. So when my husband said, "Screw the budget!" we decided to spend $400 and get tickets for the whole family. Pretty good seats, too - lower orchestra, left side. Nice.

Now I must say that I have been changed for the better. The storyline was well conceived, the characters well developed (as a literary type, I really liked the author's ideas of the how and why of certain characters we meet in The Wizard of Oz), the music intoxicating, the singing beyond this world. I knew I would like it; I didn't expect to fall in love with it. It truly deserves all the credit it receives.

However, we didn't really attend because I wanted to see it. We went because last year at this time it was in San Diego at the same time we were, and the girls (age 6 and 8) went ballistic over it. We didn't have the money to even consider going, so the girls received a Wicked cd for Christmas and we called it good. But that wasn't good enough for them. My youngest sang along with that disc all day, and my older daughter made up a dance to "Defying Gravity" (her favorite song). In fact, it was that scene from the TV commercials that first attracted her interest. They LOVED Wicked, and they had not even seen it.

Fast forward one year later, and we learned that Wicked is in its final run at the Pantages Theater in LA. It will be gone next month. So, busting the budget, we go, fight traffic for almost 3 hours to go 60 miles, and arrive in Hollywood, home of the Pantages Theater.

To begin, Sophie was enthralled with Hollywood (she has decided she wants to move there when she is older and become a singing teacher). The girls were dressed to the nines and soaking in the whole theater atmostphere as we arrived. We took our seats and the show started shortly after.

While I went and enjoyed it thoroughly, my reaction was not necessarily the best part of the evening. Two minutes into the musical, she had a relevation, "This is like the Wizard of Oz, isn't it, mommy?" Evidently she had started reading the original book, and finally realized who the "Witches of Oz" were. From that point on she was drawn in. Sophie sat by daddy, so I couldn't see or interact with her well, but Kaya sat by me, and I have never seen ANYONE so entranced in my life. She honestly did not sit in her seat, but perched on the edge the whole time, her hand on the seat in front of her, her face lit with an absolute glow of wonder.

Then came the end of the first act, and she moved forward more (if she could have stood, I think she would have), and the look on her face as Elpheba rose up singing is indescribable. All I can say is that the look on her face made me cry more than the actual musical. Then the lights cut and everyone was clapping and she was no longer sitting, but kind of standing/crouching and when the lights came on she looked at me as though she had just seen an angel from Heaven. When she saw people leaving she asked if we could move closer up if those people don't come back, and I had to laugh back my tears.

Yes, the show is great, but seeing my daughter love it more than I was worth more than the $400 (plus gas, dinner, parking, etc), worth more than anything I could have paid. We don't get to see that type of wonder and excitement in children very often. It is a gift that is more rare and valuable than gold or diamonds, this discovery and wonder in a child, and I got to see it this week. For that, I am truly thankful.

A Happy Halloween

2008-10-31T22:01:00.005-04:00

Yes, it was a Happy Halloween for us this year - the kids got to attend parties (one of which we threw and it was awesome!), a fall festival, and go trick -or-treating. They raked in the candy (off which mom and dad get to mooch , yum!) and had bales of fun (pun intended!). But this holiday was more important for a different reason: it is the first "official" holiday in our new home.

As many of you may know, just over a year and a half ago, my hubby experience an unintended job change, which left us having to move to California, but still have a house in the midwest. Between rent and that mortgage, our hopes for a house in CA fell by the wayside, and we were stuck in a less-than-spectacular apartment complex in a not-so-great part of town. Sadness ensued.

However, much to our joy, the housing market totally crashed at about the same time we found a renter for the house in the midwest. While may others lament the crash of the housing market, we danced all the way to the bank, got a great loan at a great rate, and bought a foreclosed house at half price. Time for the Happy Dance!

The house in the midwest was still HOME. But, after three months in the new house, some hardcore cleaning, and getting the kids back in scouts and the like, this new house started to feel more homey. Not quite home yet, but getting there.

It is now Halloween night, and the kids are dressed to the hilt. Seeing them run around the house, plastic trick-or-treat pumpkins in hand, surrounded by the incandescent glow of candles and orange Halloween lights, something happened. With all the excitement and the tradition behind it all, suddenly this strange house became HOME.

Whether you celebrate a particular holiday or not, holidays have something special attached to them: a sense of tradition older than yourself. And when we bring those traditions home to roost, share them with our children, and enjoy the trappings of that brief holiday time, our outsides reflect the joy and celebration of our insides. This house now has memories - ones that I will keep, that my children will keep, and one day, God willing, my grandchildren will keep as well.

Tonight, for the first time in almost 2 years, we are finally home.

I've Had a BAD DAY!

2008-10-20T22:58:00.009-04:00

This has been one of those days when it would have just been better to go back to bed. Can I get a do over?

First, the dentist: My dentist's office has a knack for writing the WRONG DAY on my reminder card. In September I missed my appt. becuase they wrote Sept 5 on my card, but they had Sept 3 in their system, and since we had just moved, I didn't get a call. No biggie. I rescheduled for the same day that my kids go in - Oct 21, a Tuesday. I checked it several times to be sure, confirmed it with her over a month ago, and wrote it in giant letters on my calendar while still on the phone, just to be sure.

Today I get the confirmation phone call for my dental appointment at 10 am on Wednesday. Wait a minute! Wednesday, the 22nd? No, I tell her, it is for tomorrow, the 21st. That is what you wrote on my reminder card. I have it RIGHT HERE IN FRONT OF ME. The 21st. I can't make it on Wednesday, the 22nd, because we have another commitment that cannot be rescheduled. Bummer, because I really wanted to go to the dentist, you know?

So that set the tone of the day. Later that afternoon, we have to drive to Tae Kwon Do. My car was running fine, because we just refilled the coolant yesterday. We have to drive across town to drop off some paperwork, and when we get out, the kids notice the car is smoking (and not in the good way). What the hell?

So I look under the hood, don't see anything amiss, close it, drop off the paperwork, and we head home.

Half way home we need to pull over as my heat indicator gauge is almost on red. Now I am one step below freakin out, as it is dark. I know I have a coolant leak, but we just filled it yesterday! There is no way it can be empty already!

We let the car cool a bit, then get back in. About a mile from home, the gauge is again almost in the red. I pull over to a well lit parking lot near Sun City Bikes (go there if you ever need a bike!!!) and take another look. My loving son gets out to look, and as I show him the coolant parts, we go through our options. My cell is dead, I have no cash, and we don't get paid til Friday. I don't even have the money to use a pay phone, if I could even find one in this day and age. That is when I notice something amiss with my radiator cap (or whatever that metal cap is called). It is not sealed.

Evidently, when we checked the coolant levels this weekend, we put the cap on but did not screw it down all the way. Thus, while I cruised around town this evening, I was spewing coolant all under the hood. Now I have no coolant, an overheated engine, and no way to call my hubby for help. Can we say ready to cry?

However, sometimes God sends Angels. The owner of Sun City Bikes (buy a bike from him!!!) is closing for the night and sees we are in distress. In addition to knowing about bikes, he evidently knows quite a bit about cars as well. He strikes up friendly conversation, gets a bunch of water, takes care of the overheated engine for me, gives me advice to run the heater to get the hot out of the engine, makes sure the engine isn't damaged, and makes sure I am close enough to home so if anything happens I am not stuck with 3 kids on a dark road at night. NICEST FREAKIN GUY EVER (Go to Sun City Bikes!!). Needless to say, as I drove home the heat gauge on the car slowly moved to the left, indicating we were no longer a hot car. We pulled into the driveway, said a little prayer, turned off the car, and thankfully walked into the house. Nervous breakdown averted!

When we went to Church this week, we had to scrimp around for offering and the kids always have to use some of their own money for offering. One of the kids asked what the offering was for, and I explained it is a way of saying thank you to God and they Church for all they do for us, and that what ever we give comes back to you thousandfold. As I stood there with my overheated car and not even a quarter for a phone call, I looked up at the sky and joked with my son, "So much for that thousandfold, eh God?" But God got the best of me - after our Sun City Bikes Angel left and we were on our way home, my son, who I am beginning to believe is much smarter than I, says, "I guess God did pay you back, huh mom?"

We don't get to choose the form that thousandfold takes. At that moment in that parking lot, I didn't need a quarter or a nice cell phone. I just needed someone with all things, water. I needed a thousandfold of water, and that is what God sent.

It was worth every penny.

Then Just Quit Already!

2008-10-19T16:12:00.009-04:00

I was trolling through some of my fave websites this morning - most are either education or homeschool related, but some are just fun, like facebook. However, one of the education websites I read provided some information that truly shocked me.

Let me preface this by a bit of history. My son was in full time day care for all of 9 months, and it was the longest 9 months of my life. It was also one of the costliest. We paid $150/week for full time care ten years ago. That would come to, on average, $600 a month, $750 for a 5 week month. OUCH. It was also one of the reasons we wanted to get me into a stay-at-home mom position, or at least, part-time working position. And once my hubby landed a job that paid as much as I made, and I found a part-time teaching position for a local college, we were able to do it.

Basically, we figured that I could make almost $800 a month LESS than what I was making full time, since we would no longer have day care costs. Since my take home pay was only $1600 a month, that was TOO easy. I taught 2 classes each semester and made more than that. We were set; I quit my full time job and we never looked back.

Let me also put out here that I am an advocate of the stay at home parent. If you manage to work part time and only have the kids with a sitter for a few hours a week, that is a different situation altogether. There is still one parent that is the primary caretaker. I firmly believe that if you have kids, YOU should raise them. Not some stranger that you found in the phone book. Not some distant relative who is "helping you out" to the tune of $200/week or more. YOU. YOU. YOU. That is your kid. Take care of him/her already!

I actually feel badly for those moms (and their kids) who say they can't (or just won't) stay home with the kidlets. They don't know what they are missing.

Fast forward to this Sunday morning, and my reading of Ed Report at eagleforum.org. They published an interesting article about the high costs of day care, specifically this line which almost knocked me out of my chair: "the average family with two children in Google day care would go, under the new plan, from paying $33,000 a year to paying over $57,000" (2008). WHO IN THE HELL WOULD PAY $33,000 A YEAR (let alone $57,000) TO SEND THEIR KIDS TO DAY CARE?!
Are you kidding me? Are you FREAKIN' kidding me?!

My take home when I worked full time was less than $28,000 a year. When the hubby started making the "big bucks," he made $32,000 a year. Essentially, if we had to send the kids to day care today, it would be cheaper for one us NOT to work instead! And if these are the costs of day care, then why in the name of all things Holy, does the second parent work? Unless that parent makes more than $40,000, they are PAYING to work. This does not include any other costs like lunches, clothes, car upkeep, gas, etc. That is the straight up babysitter fee.

Even if that same second parent made $50,000/year, then after taxes they are really only making about $6000/year after day care costs. 40 hours a day, 5 days a week, 50 weeks a year, for a measly $6000. Sell Avon instead. Have a bake sale. Either of these would net the same amount and you would be at home with your kids! No boss, no worrying about getting a sick day off, no missing the school play or that soccer game. No 95% of your pay going to a babysitter.

I guess I never really looked at the numbers. For those families who don't have the second parent, obviously this isn't an option. For those who have grandma watch the babies for super cheap or free, obviously this doesn't apply to you. But for those of you in two parent households, unless you make, and let's be realistic here, $70,000 or more, EACH, then one of you should quit. You will be richer in the long run.

Noble Intentions

2008-10-14T03:05:00.008-04:00

Hours. I have them. I do. But most nights end like this one, and I wonder if I will ever have time of mine own.

The hubby and I typically stay up late - 12 am or so - him gaming, me catching up on work. Even if I don't have a class in session, I am catching up on our homeschool work, or on something for scouts, or cleaning the kitchen (one day I WILL invent a self cleaning kitchen, and I will then be the wealthiest and most beloved of women).

And what does this all come down to? I don't write. Not like I used to, not like I would like to. I have so many book ideas, article ideas, notes scattered around the house like so many autumn leaves blowing in the wind. What have I done with any of them lately? Nothing. Nothing but make said stacks larger as I take more notes, add more to the piles of info, come up with yet another article/book I want to write.

I am even jealous of a good friend who blogs nearly every other day - that is like a dream! I admire her for that commitment. For all the time I spend on this machine that has supplanted most of my life, I still cannot find adequate time to blog. It is all my fault, truly. And more to the fact, I use the "who's reading it anyway" excuse -- a horrible excuse. I should write for the joy of it, but by the end of the day, my fingers just want to fall off, as I have done little more than write or type all day and all night.

But realization comes like a splash of cold water, as my oldest has MAN hair on his legs and my oldest two need to use deodorant daily (nothing worse than prepubescent BO). The reality is that my time, this time with my kids is slowly, but too fast for me, coming to an end. I sat with my husband, lamenting this. In 9 years, I am done. The homeschooling is essentially complete, and with it, all those time-consuming trappings of childhood.

What do I do then? How will I fill those lonely hours that I used to grasp at so desperately, when I didn't have enough time to finish all I had to do? I am sad, so sad that I am starting to see the end of this great project granted to me by the grace of God. But I am also starting to see something else.

As I sat on the couch with my husband and discussed with him my fear of those lonely hours ahead, I knew what I was going to do to fill that time.

I shall write.

My Exciting Career News

2008-05-15T23:31:00.009-04:00

For the most part, I consider myself a stay-at-home mom. We homeschool; I do most of the housework, and essentially no longer work outside of the home.

However, I am still a college professor and I teach online classes for National University. My employment with NU has been one of the best teaching positions I've had. Not only do I get to teach via this newer medium, I enjoy it. I receive great support from my dean and they employ me regularly -- which is always a plus. And this month, NU gave me the opportunity to stretch my professional career -- I got to develop full course curriculum for their new online Tech Writing course! YAY!

What does this mean to people who live in the "real world"? This is like having the a new office project land in your lap - and this project will be implemented for many people within that office. To develop curriculum, the prof needs to consider learning objectives, texts, outside references, lectures, interactive activities, reading assignments, writing assignments, quizzes/tests, and even discussion forums for students to have "in class" discussions.

I had most of the materials and ideas already, as I have taught Tech writing online several times in the past. The only difference is the text and base materials were pre-selected for me, as were the learning objects, page writing requirements, and such; but the rest was under my purview. This time, everything was up to me, and this class will set the online standard for any future online tech writing options (which I hope I will also write). Plus, not only will my students follow the course structure, but so will all students who take the class, whether I teach it or not.

And that is the added bonus - for the first few classes at least, I will be the one to teach it! More guaranteed teaching assignments!

I love being a college professor and I love online teaching. I love that NU has given me the opportunity to expand my career as a professor.

I often feel that I have it all - the ability to be a mom to my kids, and the uber-career of an online professor that lets me be that mom to my kids.

May you all one day feel that you too have it all.

Gaming with the Stars!

2007-12-20T14:32:00.000-05:00

So, Grimwell attends that Mecca of all gamers in America: E3. That paragon of game technology beckons thousands from all over the world and flaunts its multichromatic vice to all. Surprisingly, that “all” includes famous celebrities who made the short trek from Hollywood to LA to also peruse what’s new in gaming.

I must admit, the idea of Hollywood’s greatest playing online games fascinates me – it’s like finding out that Superman and Wonder Woman are regulars at your favorite restaurant, only with an added bonus. There is an excellent chance that you may be better at the game than they are. They may have to ask you —little, peon, nobody you – for help to get to the next level.

I say this not as an insult but as a realization. For example, my 10 year old plays GuildWars and is fairly adept at it (of course he is – he’s ten! Anyone younger than 12 is a pro at any piece of technology no matter how new advanced it is. We should have 10 year olds working with technology for the Defense Department!) As a result, newer players regularly offer my son in game money in return for a tour of a place or to help them get to a really great place for gold and action. My son finds this hilarious – that a 10 year old could do it on his own but the other guys can’t. But he’s no fool; he takes their money and leads the way.

I think these people would freak if they knew a prepubescent was their tour leader. I feel the same way about gaming with celebrities. As it turns out, Robin Williams is a game freak and had a blast at E3 himself. Could you imagine learning that a guild mate of yours was none other than Robin Williams?! That is an interesting element of the internet – absolute anonymity. And even if he did try to say he was THE Robin Williams, no one would believe him – look what happened in the 90’s when David Duchnovy tried to enter a chat room about himself. “Yeah, right. And I’m Gillian Anderson!” No one believed him.

Maybe if Robin William told some good jokes; but even then, believing that the really good joke teller in your guild is the REAL Robin Williams is a stretch. It would be great fun to try to screw with him though (“Yeah, you need to kill every rabbit in the game before you can advance to the next level”). Mr. Williams seems to be a great sport about things, and that could easily translate into being a great gamer. Plus, the idea of having power over the powerful can make one giddy with the possibilities!
However, not all celebrity gaming is a good thing. Look at what happens when you let Paris Hilton take the controller. She may look pretty, but could you imagine if she were in your guild? Ugh! It would be the “losers” guild with nothing more than clipped language (“Do you want to go to the next town?” “That’s hot!”). She would be more worried about her shoes than whether her friends were getting whacked by some egregious creature in the game!

And don’t get me started on her lovely sense of recall. While she may make a pretty model, a spokesperson she is not! Her game “Paris Hilton’s Jewel Jam” will not only be in the $1 bin within a week of release, she cannot even correctly name her own game! Instead, she called it “DiamondQuest” and left the building. Could you imagine the horror that would ensue if she played an online game? “Ohh, let’s play ‘Land of Fighting!’” “No, I don’t want to level. I just like picking out clothes for my character. That’s hot!”

Don’t even get me started on Tom Cruise (“We must have absolute silence while gaming!”).

All in all, while some celebrities would be a blast to game with – Robin Williams is one, and I think Samuel L. Jackson would be fun to encounter in game – too many Paris Hiltons and Tom Cruises could really spoil the fun. That’s what makes online gaming so fun; I don’t have to know who I’m really playing with. And if I don’t like them, I can take my cloak of magic and go play somewhere else.

On Getting Busy

2007-11-07T01:54:00.000-05:00

It’s 11:00 pm. The kids were put to bed long ago. I’ve finished doing my nightly routine of picking up the house, putting stuff away, and checking on the dog. Most of the lights are off; the doors are locked. It’s time.

I light some candles in the bedroom to set the mood. I bought a little black and red swatch of material from Victoria’s and it fits great. I put my hair up, check to see the make-up looks good, then I drape myself in the door way of the office and ask my husband, the gamer, in a husky voice, “Wanna get busy?”

His eyes don’t even twitch from the computer screen. The lights in here are brighter than the sun and he is glued to this game that he has already been playing for 2 ½ hours. You’d think he’d need some sort of break, right? And my idea is usually a top one for men, right?

I might as well have asked him what they are serving for dinner on the moon for all the attention he paid me. I mean, come on! The lights are low; the bed is turned down, and I am wearing next to nothing! Does he even give me a glimpse? No – I get this response (come on gamer-spouses, recite it with me), “Can you just give me a few minutes, hon? I’m almost done with this level.”

Ok – the mood is shot and for men who complain that they don’t get enough – this picture here is exactly why. Women are very fickle creatures, and if you don’t grab us while we are hot, you will end up with NO ACTION in return. Don’t come crying to us that you don’t get enough; when we throw ourselves at you, your eyes are glued to a fictional character in a fictional place doing fictional things.

Thus, I thought is was hilarious when my husband then showed me a video of the three Australian comedians singing about making the woman wait while they completed another level or finished gaming with their group. Their jokes about finding something to do as it may take a while are right on! Evidently, I’m not the only one who thinks this “gaming is better than sex” issue is a fairly significant one!

As all gaming spouses know, the “Just give me a minute” comment is equivalent to telling the spouse to grab a book – it’s going to be a while. War and Peace is a good choice at this juncture; so is Les Miserables. The Stand by Stephen King would also be excellent fodder for this downtime. Anything in excess of 1000 pages will be required reading if you anticipate seeing that gaming spouse anytime that evening.

If you don’t fall asleep reading (and waiting for your spouse to hit that next level), you just may get your wish and a little action. However, if you are like most gaming spouses, me in particular, you will fall asleep with that book on your face. Then, if you are really lucky, you get to try again the next night, and the next, and the next.

What a waste of makeup. I didn’t do my hair just to sleep with a nice style. I’d rather fall asleep in my flannel jammies than a skimpy, uncomfortable swatch of satin. As for me, I’ll be reading Anna Karenina. He can wake me when he’s done with this level.

Putting Up With Gaming

2007-10-28T00:19:00.000-04:00

As a gamer's wife, I have to put up with a lot. I have to put up with dinner being late because we have to wait for Grim to finish his level/game, or I lose out on the romantic night because he has to game with the guys online. I have to put up with “Just another second, hon. I've almost destroyed this rabbit! Then I will have access to the magical watermelon rind!” Plus, I have to listen to him and all his friends talk about gaming ALL THE TIME. Honestly, that is probably the worst.

Since we work in the gaming industry, we have to discuss gaming quite a bit, which is OK with me – I mean it is work after all. However, one would think that we live, eat, sleep, and breathe nothing but games, given how others react when they learn what we do. Especially for me, since I also teach at a technical school, whose fight song could be entitled “Game on, Game on, for Freeport . . .” This is the type of school where, if MMOG was offered as a major, that would be the only major. No one would attend the school for any other subject. This is a school where, when you walk down the halls, no only do a slew of students duke it out in a game of Magic, but wireless laptops are open and it looks like the owners have a terrible habit of talking loudly to themselves (“To the left! To the left! Behind you! AHHH!!”).

Needless to say, I don't broadcast that I work with or write about games for a living, and I sure as heck have learned not to mention that Grimwell is my husband. I've had students actually recognize the name and then want to do nothing more than talk about him all night long! I have to live and work with the guy, and the last thing I want to do is talk about his gaming habits with a bunch of MY students all night long! If I should let it slip that I edit his website, all I hear for the next hour is, “Does he play this? What does he think of that? What server is he on?” Or, God save me, even worse: “Do your play EQ2?” What server are you on?”

To tell the truth – I have no idea. When anyone starts talking about mmorpgs or PS3, it's like someone flipped a switch and now everyone is speaking in tongues. I, on the other hand, then have the ungrateful task of trying to bring attention back around to whatever it is the students are supposed to learning.

And it's not just students – our personal friends also fall under this banner. Take our friend Jay. When we are together with Jay and his wife, Jay is a normal person. However, get him alone with Grim (or, God help me, Grim and myself) and it is non-stop game talk. My eyes start to glaze over and I begin to mentally rearrange my shoe closet. Even worse, sometimes Grim is not even there, but since I am, I become the gaming conversationalist by default. As an example, last week I was at a girl-gathering with Jay's wife at Jay's house. In the midst of our superficial talk, Jay came home and asked his wife if he had time to play his new game downstairs. Then he proceeded to share all the info of his new game with me – how he got it for free with trade-ins, how he can't wait to play it, how he talked to Grim about it for some reason, yadda yadda yadda . . . and my eyes begin to lose focus.

It's not that I am against gaming or anything; quite the reverse. There are many games, online and PC games, which I play. My kids play a variety of PC, online, and console games as well. We are a gaming family, and I have learned to accept that. It is just so difficult to talk about gaming ALL THE TIME –especially when I am seen as little more than Grim's proxy game conversationalist. I am not a gamer – not in the way Grim and his associates are, so the only thing I ask is that, sometimes, can we talk about something else? How about those Lakers? I hear the weather can be nice to talk about. Do you have any boring tales about your family? Because I would LOVE to talk about all that.

How (Not) to Sell!

2007-10-27T23:42:00.000-04:00

I have dabbled in marketing and advertising for a while now -- quite a few years ago with Allstate, then on my own as an independent contractor for smaller businesses. I have worked on pieces that eventually became advertisements, internal communications, media kits, websites, and other odd communications. I have also written some articles as of late as well. Throughout all of this work, my highest priority has always been language. To select the right word, the perfect word, le bon mot, is essential to the overall product. In my writing classes, the one aspect of writing I emphasize most is that of language -- finding that one perfect word.

So it surprises me considerably to see commercials on the air, commercials for which companies have paid MILLIONS, use atrocious or awkward language, especially when one small change could have made all the difference.

Take for example the recent Dos Equis beer commercial. Here they present the quintessential distinguished gentleman, surrounded by his harem of attractive women, and how do they advocate their product? "I don't always drink beer; but when I do, I drink Dos Equis." I don't always drink beer? If you are a beer company, that is the ONLY thing you want your audience drinking! To promote an alternative, even as a means to set a certain tone within the commercial, fails entirely. In advertising, you want the core of your commercial promoting your product, and if that product is beer, then that better be the only thing your hottie older man is drinking! Imagine this one small change: "When I drink beer, I drink Dos Equis." The same message is conveyed, and the option of NOT drinking beer (God forbid) is implied, but not overt. To the casual watcher, the only beer is Dos Equis. There is no option for any other drink of choice.

Ford Motor Company did something similar, but instead of just dropping the ball on endorsing their own product, they tarnished it to millions by admitting the LIED to the general public. In their most recent commercial, they promote their vehicles via a "swap" -- a driver swapping his or her current vehicle for a Ford vehicle. Then, in an almost comical undertone, the announcer admits, "We didn't tell them we were from Ford. We said it was market research." I'm sorry, but instead of coming clean with these people and saying, "Hey, we're from Ford and want to get your opinion on our vehicles. Drive one and tell us what you think," they admit to MILLIONS OF VIEWERS that they were willing to CONNED the people whose opinion they solicited! And admit it on public television! In a commercial THEY paid for! Talk about irony! Paying to admit that you defrauded others?

The problem here is that no one CARED if Ford admitted who they were or not. Had Ford contact me, a non-Ford driver, and said they wanted me to drive their car and see what I thought, I would have said, "Sure!" Whether or not they were from Ford or from some market research firm would make little difference. However, to baldly LIE to others in order to garner information, and then use that as a selling point in their commercial, really defeats the overall purpose of the commercial - you lied to me about your company, why should I trust you when you say you make good cars? Fool me once, shame on you; fool me twice, shame on me.

Again, the irony here is all they had to do is change the language a bit and they would have been fine - We at Ford are conducting market research. It is essentially the same thing - market research - only Ford would not have been LYING when they said it.

Of course, my son thinks that car commercials are boring and all the same, and the only ones worth watching are the funny ones. Given the high viewership of those comical Superbowl commercials, I think he is right - and he's only ten! I know that the only car commercials I care to watch are the funny ones, and there are pathetically few of those as it is.

Maybe if advertisers focused more on their audience, those of us who have to WATCH those stinking commercials, we wouldn't have these language issues. But who am I? Oh, right. I'm a consumer. They need to market to me.

Highlight

2007-08-31T02:10:00.000-04:00

The backdrop:
We have homeschooled since my oldest was born. My dh is out of town for over a week, so I decide to take the kids to Boston Market for dinner (we have a coupon - yay!).

The scene:
The kids help get the trays to the table, get drinks, help each other with silverware, wait for help, say please and thank you, etc... All around good kids displaying the behavior we EXPECT when out to eat.

The interruption:
In the middle of great conversation with my 3 kids, a family with two little boys (3 and 4 or so?) and boy were they LOUD. Even my kids, who can be loud, commented on it. Plus the boys were running up and down the aisle and no listening to parent.

The foreshadow:
Also in the restaurant were an elderly lady and her mother, sitting across the center aisle from us.

What followed:
The parents of the loud kids finally got the kids under control and got dinner on the table - loud and annoying crisis averted!

The Climax:
In the middle of conversation with the kids, the elderly lady and her mother can over to me.

The Highlight of my day:
She said "I just wanted to tell you what beautiful and well-behaved children you have. You must be so proud of them."

Finally:
I thanked her profusely, and we agreed that well-behaved kids are better than the other option, and wished each other a nice day. Then mommy got all teared up that my beautiful and well-behaved kids were basically complimented by a total stranger for their mere existence. And all is right in the world, except daddy wasn't there to see it. But the kids did, and I think that was more important.

The end.

Why it is good to have friends . . .

2007-01-02T21:08:00.000-05:00

I haven't had friends, a big circle of friends, since high school. Back then, everyone little clique found others with similar interests, and that became your group. For me, that was fifteen year ago.

Today, however, I learned that once again have more friends in my circle than I can shake a stick at. It rivals the group I had in high school! While I somehow knew I had these friends, I didn't realize how many or how truly committed they were until just this weekend. Then they came out of the woodwork in droves, and for that I am so grateful.

We are in the process of a move and my hubby is not around a lot as a result. Over the course of 2 days, every friend I have in the area, even ones I didn't realize were real friends, those ones you can count on in a pinch, called me to see how I was doing. They ALL offered to help babysit or run errands when needed, come and help pack, move boxes, or just let me unload emotionally if necessary. I have waited fifteen years to have friends like this again, and now I have to leave them. Subtle irony there, no?

But the upside is they are there - they are sticking to me even though I will be 2000 miles away in two months. With promises to call and keep in touch, we all know how easy it is to lose friends when distance and life in general get in the way. Only this time I have all their email address and phone numbers, and I will make avid use of them. Friends like these I just can't move away from; part of them will move with me when I go.

And hopefully, a small part of me will stay with them as well.

Thanks, friends.

What is Empowerment?

2006-10-31T14:16:00.000-05:00

By Michelle Dalrymple (the muse)

Women are judged as women no matter where they are or what they do. When we walk into a job interview, not only are we judged on our qualifications, but on our appearance, voice, and dress. In some cases, like those of airline stewardesses, those latter variables may be the deciding factor on whether or not she gets the job at all. When on the phone, women are accused of sounding “bitchy” or “hormonal.” At no time is a woman judged solely on her abilities – she is always judged on her abilities as a woman.

With the lack of women in game development, and a seeming lack of women in online games, it would appear that even in technology, women are the suppressed minority. Feminists clamor that anything and everything leads to oppression of women: politics, appearance, penis envy, or the all-consuming “importance of cultural influences in the shaping of gender,” stresses Prof. Karen Horney (Gleman, Newsweek. 84). However, it is the newest of cultural influences that has opened new doors to women, erasing an oppressive environment typically seen elsewhere.

The internet, and all its opportunities, has opened up a new, completely gender-neutral world to women, one where people, regardless of race, gender, or ethnicity, are judged on the weight of their abilities, not on their appearance. We see this with elements of the internet like email – anything from JCHahn7766 to DownRiver1 – is completely gender-neutral. Those emails or game names could belong to anyone, the President or the 13 year old down the street.

This anonymity of the internet, while it does have its downsides, offers women the ability to be themselves and more without bias. Short tempered in an email – you can’t be called bitchy solely based on your sex! In a bad mood in an online forum? Nothing “hormonal” here, just a bad mood. These new technologies offer women a starting point that is at the exact same position as men. The internet has done the one thing that feminism and affirmative action have been unable to do: leveled the playing field.

For the first time ever, a woman is not judged as a woman, but as another person in far horizon, discoursing over the internet. She may have a name that is not hers, nor is it remotely female. Her avatar may be the same. As a result, those online may not know the true gender of the person at the other end of that internet cable. Intuitive guessing may occur, but overall, a woman only has to expose her gender when it is in her best interest. The online revolution offers true gender-neutrality.

Karen Lehrman in her essay The Feminist Mystic makes this very point: “Government cannot cleanse society of sexism; culture and time can” (The New Republic, 34, 1992). We see this effect of culture most inherently with the advent of online games. Women play everything from Spades online to World of Warcraft, and whether they present themselves to the online world as a man or a woman largely depends on the woman’s whim. She may play under a man’s name in Texas Hold’em or use a male avatar in EverQuest II. Or she may elect to present herself in a feminine form, but that superficial form holds little sway, as great numbers of men “gender-bend” in game and play a female character for a thrill.

Since there is no actual visual of women in an online environment, only the one that a woman chooses for herself, the stereotypes and assumptions based on appearance and gender are lessened. Games like Sims or Second Life, where body image is malleable, or even an animal, or Horizons, where one can play a dragon, gender becomes moot. A woman’s ability to acquire skills and earn levels in game are on par with men.

Women are even discovering fresh inroads into gaming through said games by creating their own reality through the game. Women can acquire rare items and drops and sell them for real money through a variety of websites. In some games, like Second Life, women can form their own businesses. MMORPGs have a decent female following as well; “Women took to fantasy landscapes of sword and sorcery like World of Warcraft, sometimes wielding weapons, but also inhabiting characters who seemed nurturing or bewitching,” writes Dickey and Summers in Newsweek (E20, 2005).

The idea of knowing that a woman is playing a game by her ability level (or lack thereof) is also becoming a logical fallacy. Women hold their own in online card, arcade, and MMO games, reaching higher levels of game accomplishments alongside their male counterparts. In an online forum at GamerGod.com, Grimwell posted some interesting insight on women gamers. Using gamespeak “pwn” to mean “own” or “kick your butt,” he commented that in ten years, his daughter will “pwn you” in a game, and that a female gaming friend, Rhyssa, “will pwn you now” (gamergod.com 2005). Don’t be surprised to learn that the husky Paladin, slaughtering the creature next to you, is a young woman just trying to level.

As more young girls begin to play more online and PC games, the line between men as better players blurs. The average 5 year old, regardless of gender, knows how to play, and beat, a number of videogames. In fact, several developers now create games specifically for kids, especially little girls. While the boxes may be pink and purple, with Hello Kitty and Barbie on the cover, the content is game nonetheless. These girls are growing up gaming and quickly becoming a gaming force to be recokoned with.

To level the playing field, all a woman needs is her internet connection. There is no longer any learning curve between men and women in gaming, and the nature of the internet had allowed women their full voice in gender neutrality. A woman no longer has to shed her femininity, dress like men, or act unfeminine to play with the big boys. Online gaming empowers women because it breaks the gender bias. In online games, the only thing that could hold a woman back or thrust her forward is her own ability, her computer hardware, and her broadband.

Works Cited:

Dickey, Christopher and Summers, Nick. “A Female Sensibility.” Newsweek. October 17, 2005. v CXLVI n16. E20.

Gelman, David. “A Fresh Take on Freud.” Newsweek. October 29, 1990. v116 n18. 84-86.

Lehrman, Karen. “The Feminist Mystique.” The New Republic. March 16, 1992. v206 n11. 30-34.

OMG! I've Got a Book!

2006-10-11T08:55:00.000-04:00

I'm published in book form on the web! Here is the link to my cheesy romance novel - feel free to take a look and thanks for browsing!

http://www.lulu.com/content/465015

Nothing Bad to Say

2006-10-04T09:02:00.000-04:00

Nothing Bad to Say
By Michelle Dalrymple

At the end of every semester, my freshman composition students must write a final paper, an argument paper. This paper is a culmination of all the styles and practice they have learned during the course. As an added bonus for the final paper of the class, the students have a choice of topics on which to write their paper. Over the semesters, the topics have included censorship, religions, and money. A few semesters ago, however, I put up education up as a possible topic choice.

Within these topics, students can select any aspect of that topic they choose. Under the umbrella of education, students have written about school funding, banned books in libraries, and special education classes. Inevitably, one student will want to approach the topic of homeschooling. Honestly, I welcome this, regardless of the approach (pro or con), with open arms. I can often offer some resources to help them in their research. Plus, students have come up with sources I am not familiar with or present information in a unique way.

Usually, students will take a pro-homeschooling approach. One student who did so was a quiet girl who had been homeschooled herself, so the topic was within her purview. She was able to add some more personal information that worked well in her paper. However, most students who decide to write on homeschooling are not familiar with the subject at all. This makes for some interesting research and conclusions on behalf of the student writer.

Of course, there are the students who decide to write the contrary. One student in particular did a more than fair job looking at homeschooling as it lacks in “experiences” that schools can provide. I gave her full credit, not only for writing a decent paper, but she also knew that I homeschooled my children; she was not afraid to face the beast.

This past semester took the homeschool debate in our class to a whole new level. A student was intrigued by the homeschool conversations she had heard, and she wanted to write about it for her final paper. However, she wanted to look at homeschooling from the other side and write about how homeschooling is not as good as conventional schooling and does not produce “good” results.

I told her to have at it. I had researched some information, typical arguments, about the “downside” to homeschooling. I had no doubt she would utilize at least some of these sources as the basis of her paper. I also knew that some students in the class had personal experiences with homeschooling, so I wanted to see where this was going to lead.

The students had a week to come back with their formulated theses and some examples or sources for the final paper. When we met that next week to discuss the final papers, she raised her hand to volunteer her thesis and information.

“No offense to anyone in this class who homeschools,” was how she began and I laughed and gave the class a warning “uh-oh!” Then she continued.

“I can’t write on the drawbacks to homeschooling,” she told the class. “Everything I have looked at and researched tells me that there are none. That home schooling is so much better than public schools! I can’t find anything!” She seemed happily surprised at her conclusion, and the class gave a surprised laugh as well.

I then pointed out that maybe she didn’t need to apologize to the homeschoolers in the class; maybe the “no offense” should have been directed at those in the public schools. After more lighthearted laughter, I did let her know that there are sources out there to the contrary, and if she wanted, I would help her research her topic.

She brushed it off with a wave of her hand and let me know that would be way too much work (ha ha, the teacher in me thought). She had already thought of a different education topic and was ready to present that. As it turns out, she wrote her paper on the benefits of homeschooling over public school.

As we continued, I couldn’t help but think of what an impact that was. One would think that public schools, organizations like the teachers’ unions, and the media would make that information readily available. On such a controversial topic as homeschooling, while there are some significant theoretical debates, there were no concrete facts or resources to support anything “negative” about homeschooling. In fact, there was only the opposite. There was so much of the opposite, that when looking for the bad, this student could only find good.

2006-09-07T23:13:00.000-04:00

Ode to those who came before:

By Michelle Dalrymple

Sometimes, no matter how much we read or do for ourselves, we have to come to terms with an undeniable truth – sometimes experience is the best teacher.

It is easy to pay lip service to this in the context of homeschooling. We try to offer our children a wealth of experience, from soccer to piano to art, in a blatant attempt to provide that oh-so-valuable experience. However, just as often, parents need to be students and learn from those who have gone before.

I live in Michigan and have for two years. Before that we lived in Illinois. As such, I have no concept of what it would be like to have to “do” anything with regards to our homeschool. Neither Illinois nor Michigan (any more) require reporting, testing, or even filing an “Intent to Homeschool” form as I have heard others lament. To our family, homeschooling means nothing more than buying some books and hitting the library.

However, there are those who have gone before and fought the good fight to enable us to have this great homeschooling environment. It is strange for me to sit and listen to what homeschooling parents, just a few years older than I, have had to do in order to educate their kids at home. Their stories became my learning experience, so I know what I need to do and know that I am fortunate to have the privileges of homeschooling ease as a result.

These homeschooling stories, these “lessons” do more than just let me know how lucky I am; they offer knowledge and advice that I really couldn’t find anywhere else. Who else can I turn to but a veteran homeschooler with a teenage daughter to learn if my daughter’s undividable attention to dance and art is a blessing or a curse? And if my late elementary son doesn’t like to write stories like other kids (even other boys) his age, who else can I ask but my homeschool friend with two sons, one a teen-ager and one just a year older than my own? These parents, these homeschool mothers provide me with a sense of relief and confidence – greater than I could receive from any book or seminar. If I have a concern, these great ladies are waiting in the wings for my phone call, a wealth of information in hand.

Most importantly, those who have gone before offer more than just support or advice; I think they help us to stay on track, to see the truth of what we are trying to accomplish as homeschoolers. Here is the best example of I have encountered of losing that focus. This year had been a bad year to start. In July I did the math and figured that, since the very first of this year, we have only done "school" consistently for one month - April. The remainder of the year to that point was interrupted by illness (Jan, Feb, March), vacation (May), and a death of a close relative - Papa (June). We could even go back into 2004 and look at November and December as half-months of any merit as well.

While these were all valid reasons for not accomplishing what we (I) wanted, it is heart-wrenching. It made this year feel like a complete bust, and I felt discouraged at best. We were so far behind that we continued “school,” a little bit each day, for the remainder for the summer to be ready for our new year.

I was despondent about this, and one afternoon I spoke to a good friend who also homeschools. Her youngest is now 15, so she has some great experience that I lack. I gave her our horrible timeline and explained that all we had really done consistently this year was read. In the most sage of tones, she said, "It sounds like your kids learned two very important things this year: to care for others, especially those we love, and to love reading. It sounds like your kids learned a lot this year."

I have look on in awe at the great experiences of my friend that allowed her to give me my own little bit of education. This went far deeper than advice or recommendation. This was insight. As someone who has traveled this journey before me, she had a range of comprehension that I would not have for years to come. As a result, on the phone that day, she presented me with a very special gift. She gave me that gift of knowledge sooner than I would have learned it on my own. In doing so, she set my mind at ease, and I was able to rethink our summer and all that our children had learned over the past year.

My kids did learn a lot this year. And I think I learned a little something this year, too.

T and A: Body Image and Jiggle Technology

2006-08-25T21:50:00.000-04:00

T and A: Body Image and Jiggle Technology

By Michelle Dalrymple

Originally published 12/05 on a now defunct site, so here it is in its entirety!

Throughout history, the image of women has had significant presence in the world at large; however, much to the chagrin of many women, those images have been dictated by men. With the advent of modern media – movies, TV, and now the internet – those images are more prevalent than ever before, and the dictates still remain. But, why is this image so important, and what does it have to do with videogames?

Camille Paglia, in her book Sexual Personae, maintains that at the core, women represent nature, and man strives to control nature, thus he strives to control woman. “The primary image [of women in media] is the femme fatal, the woman fatal to man,” she explains. “Woman’s beauty is a compromise with her dangerous archetypal nature. It gives the eye the comforting illusion of the intellectual control over nature” (13-17). With this assertion, it is apparent that men’s domination of female body image is intertwined with his need to control the feminine.

Naomi Wolf is much more blunt. In her book The Beauty Myth, she argues that this very standard of beauty set forth by the media is the primary mechanism of women’s oppression by men. She discusses the “suffering caused by trying to meet the demands of the thin ideal” (1). Concerns arising from this thesis include body image, discrimination based on beauty, over-consumption of beauty products, and eating disorders.

Many readers may think this is a stretch, but let’s look at visual media and see how far off we are. The advent of modern cinema dates back to the early 1900’s with the silent films. Greta Garbo, Mary Pickford, and Joan Crawford fit the bill as almost carbon copies images of the day dictated by a Hollywood controlled exclusively by men. Delicately coiffed, high breasts, and a boyish shape, the lack of variation in appearance lends credence to the supposition of men’s influence in the realm of women’s aesthetics.

Prior to silent films, wider hips and larger breasts were the preferred norm, a measure of a woman’s ability to bear and nurse children. However, this all changed with the introduction of film. Joan Jacobs Brumberg, in her book Fasting Girls, asserts that it is this image that launched our current culture of women’s thinness and the subsequent issues with anorexia and bulimia. In Unbearable Weight, Susan Bordo explains that this thin vision comes from man’s fear of being tied down as a result of pregnancy, that “the fear of pregnancy may have more to do with fear of domestic entrapment than with suppressed Electra fantasies . . .”(46). The heavier body represents a body ready for reproduction, while a slim figure denies this possibility.

This image changed a bit in the 40’s and 50’s, with actresses like Marilyn Monroe appearing on the scene. The “blonde bombshell” was the new look for Hollywood – big blonde hair, big breasts, and narrow waists – and Monroe fit those dictates. However, even with several films under her belt and the word “star” attached to her name, she still suffered the whims of men in Hollywood. Fox wouldn’t grant her script approval, and when she failed to show, Fox suspended her (www.ellensplace.net).

Like other bombshells of her time, Jean Harlow and Jayne Mansfield, Monroe was not taken seriously as an actress. “Marilyn's media-drenched image as a tragic dumb blond has become an American archetype,” explains Paul Rudnick in Time (online). It was this image that allowed the more sexual, less boyish figure to reappear, but only under a guise. The figure couldn’t have a brain. Paglia’s femme fatal made a comeback, but only if she was a ditz. No wonder women of today are stuck with “dumb blonde” jokes and stereotypes; there is an “anger women feel about not having power in the world,” writes Lyn Mikel Brown and Carol Gilligan in their book, Meeting at the Crossroads (11). Could anyone blame Monroe for being angry with Fox for denying her power? But the power of her T and A sure made millions for Fox.

Monroe was a prisoner of her own image, and women flocked to be prisoners just like her – complete with peroxide-blonde hair, flowing skirts, and accentuated breasts. But the image oppression didn’t stop there. In the ‘70’s, it was Farrah Fawcett hair and skimpy bikinis, and women tripped over themselves to copy that likeness. A result of this rail-thin, wind-swept look, anorexia, then only referred to as the “starving disease,” was slowly becoming a common problem among American women (Brumberg. Fasting Girls. 12). Once again, male vision of beauty takes its toll on women.

Even in the modern age, the 90’s and beyond, are rife with visual images, created and perpetuated by a masculine media, and mimicked by everyday women. The TV show “Friends” led to the popularity of the “Jennifer” haircut, styled after one of the primary characters. On newsstands daily, the size and shape of J.Lo’s derriere is discussed at length. One of the greatest controversies surrounding the SuperBowl “wardrobe malfunction” with Janet Jackson was whether or not her nipple was pierced.

Paglia asserts, “cult -objects are prisoners of their own symbolic inflation” (9). Like Monroe, who was not take seriously, and Aniston, Fawcett, who are little more than hair-styles now, and female media icons like them, their appearance limits them – dictating what they can do within the realm of visual media. These women are only hair, breasts, or butt. Further, women viewers strive to mimic what they see in the media, duplicating what they think men want to see. Thus, they are prisoners of the image-cult as well.

So how does this bring us to the gaming industry? Unlike television and film, the game industry is the new dog on the block and realizes its limitations with the female market. Women aren’t playing games as much as men? Why not? And since men are the larger market share of video games, let’s give them what they want --- T and A, and lots of it.

Given the abilities of computer technology, women’s images and avatars can look like the most grotesque version of a wet dream ever conceived. What is the logic in this? There isn’t any, and more gamers, even the men, are realizing it. Men are not fooled by these visual abominations. M. Junaid Alam, in his article “What is a Galaxy Without Stars? Drop the Sexism, Bring the Women,” acknowledges that those images are eyesores at best. “It was impossible to take the game seriously; the woman's every movement revealed a risible mockery of the female form and insulted our intelligence. Exit game, uninstall and abandon ship” (online).

He also highlights several games that, instead of focusing on the female form in its big-breasted glory, showcase women who are intelligent, strong, and powerful. He insists, “The protagonists highlighted above illustrate that plenty of excitement can be provided by female leads who will, in turn, bring in female gamers - not to speak of richer gameplay options. Additionally, as McIntosh says, most women gamers are "confident enough not to feel threatened" by sexist imagery, merely finding it annoying and disappointing” (online).

This, I think, is at the core of the female form, gamers, and the games themselves. Paglia refocused the feminist issue by stating a blatant truth: Women are different than men, and a primary difference is in appearance – sexuality. She claims, “Sex is power. Identity is power” (2), and from this we can draw the conclusion that the distortion of the female body in game is a means of man’s control over that power.

We can also look more closely at the quote by McIntosh above and realize a greater truth. Women find these bodily distortions “annoying and disappointing” at best. Male gamers too are finding this over-sexualization tiresome as well. With this, however, we need to look at the games themselves and appreciate them for what they are –entertainment – and measure the presence of the female form from that juncture.

Much like in the films mentioned above, the female body is over-proportioned and underdressed – a fact we can not get away from. But aside from the tiresome aspect, why would gamers continue to support a medium that continues to glorify this grotesque imagery? Because it is entertainment. Like film, in game there is a “suspension of disbelief,” one that is more biddable than even in film.

In the movies, unless animated, the women on the screen are real; any comparisons made to oneself or one’s significant other cannot mitigate that fact. The pressure to have a bust like Pam Anderson, a butt like J. Lo, or legs like Charlize Theron is great, but accentuated because these are live women with real (or surgically enhanced) figures. As women, we cannot help but look and think, “I can’t live up to that!”

With games, we don’t have to. That suspension of disbelief is heightened; it would have to be. A gamer knows that those dragons and orcs aren’t real; those breasts sure aren’t either! We know when we look at the avatars that better armor would not be skimpier – it would provide better coverage. To have this woman on the monitor with the equivalence of a 42 inch bust and a 21 inch waist is pure fabrication, and we know it. There is no pressure, only sighs of annoyance at the developers who try to cater to over-sexualized, under-stimulated “geeks.”

Since we know that those images are fabrications, we can enjoy them in game – we can suspend our disbelief with the safety net of cognizance that no one, especially our significant others, will ask us why we can’t have a bust like Lara Croft’s. This won’t happen because we know that bust is a digital one; it truly exists only in the game coder’s mind, not reality.

As such, while female body image may be a gross distortion to what exists in reality, in game it is an untruth, much like the dragon or the orc. Additionally, when we do see a variation of this image in film, via a video game made into a movie (such as Lara Croft, Mortal Kombat, or the new Doom) we can still accept that image, since we know that while the actress is real, the image she represents is not. Plus, to be fair, men in this instance also suffer from a similar distortion of the body. If a man expects his woman to look like Lara Croft, then he better hope Santa will leave him a 52 inch chest, muscular arms, and a codpiece the size of a melon for Christmas.

With all the great advances we’ve seen in the past few years, we would expect new and greater game elements from designers. What, then, do the developers focus on first? Jiggle technology. In the never ending quest for T and A, the technology exists to make breasts look even more real and, in a word, jiggle. This ridiculous jump in technology helps us dispel our disbelief more easily –they certainly look more real, don’t they? However, as more women become involved in both sides of gaming – playing and developing – we will hopefully see the use of technology in this function decrease and the T and A show taper off.

However, some women cannot accept this analysis and prognosis. Why should they have to suffer through the indignities of big-breasted Valkries in chain-mail bikinis? If the game companies want our business – they should have to change those images to better suit us, right?

Well, that is not too far off. While many games have only granted the player one or two options in appearance, newer games are reaching greater heights in the images available to the player. Players in games like “Asheron’s Call,” “The Sims,” and “WoW” offer a selection of body types and colors, and clothing options to boot. It is this idea of truly creating one’s own image in a game that Wolf advocates in The Beauty Myth: “a woman’s right to choose what she wants to look like and what she wants to be, rather than obeying what man forces and a multibillion dollar advertising industry dictate” (2).

Pushing this idea even further are games like the online virtual world “Second Life,” where avatars wander the city and interact. In “How Much for a Jetpack,” Brad Stone observes, “All the occupants look like characters from ‘Shrek’” (Newsweek 12). The ability to modify the character hits record highs with in-game avatar choices that include humans and animals. Additionally, several members of the game develop “decorative cyberclothes and skins,” allowing players to select the exact image they want for the game (Newsweek 12). A player can have blue skin, the head of a cat, or the body of a rodent. A squirrel body with a woman’s head? That definitely calls for a suspension of disbelief.

What does this mean for body image in gaming? No longer are players, men and women alike, forced into grossly misrepresented visual images of the female (and let’s face it, male) form. Gamers are not forced to passively accept a standard of beauty dictated by society, Hollywood, or men. If a gamer does not like the image on the screen, she can change it. Moreover, with advancements in technology and game communities, if the gamer does not like the options provided, she can create her own in some cases. Female gamers can now select what they want to accept as their “ideal” body image.

Since man cannot dictate how women in the game can appear, a woman can be as sexual or not as she wants to be. This, I think, is a great show of woman’s sexual prowess and her ability to dictate as she sees fit. Women can dictate their own sexuality, and in games that can mean a lot less T and A.

Admittedly, T and A is still the standard for female images and skins in game. However, the image-selection process, and the greater assimilation of women into the gaming industry, enables women to take a more aggressive role in the images they see in the media. It is hopeful that, in the near future, we will not be forced to accept only man’s ideal of beauty.

Works Cited:
Alam, M. Junaid. “What is a Galaxy Without Stars? Drop the Sexism, Bring the Women.” The Escapist, Issue #17 November 1st, 2005. 11/20/2005.

Bordo, Susan. Unbearable Weight, University of California Press. 1995. 11/18/2005

Brown ,Lyn Mikel and Gilligan, Carol. Meeting at the Crossroads. Harvard Univ Press. Cambridge:1992.

Brumberg, Joan Jacobs. Fasting Girls. Vintage Books. Harvard College:1998. 11/18/2005

Ellen. The Marilyn Pages 11/18/2005

Paglia, Camille. Sexual Personae. Vintage Books. New York:1990.

Rudnick, Paul. The Time 100. “Marilyn Monroe.” Time Magazine Online. Monday, June 14, 1999 . 11/20/2005.

Stone, Brad. “How Much for a Jetpack.” Newsweek. Oct. 17, 2005. 12.

Vanderlip, Danielle “Sachant.” “Then and Now.” The Escapist, Issue #17 November 1st, 2005. 11/20/2005.

Wolf, Naomi. The Beauty Myth. Harper Perennial. New York: 2002.

Shameless Promotions!!

2006-08-19T08:00:00.000-04:00

My hubby is one of those lucky fellows who seems to have everyone's dream job, working for with the video game industry. Here is a website to his GREAT website that provides news, reviews, and insights into what hot and now in games. The site also discusses higher-end game elements, such as the use of myth in games and comparative game theory. Just go to ogx.com -- enjoy your visit and many happy returns!

2006-08-14T09:54:00.000-04:00

Education and the World of Games.

By Michelle Dalrymple

Grimwell and I home school our kids. As home educators, we have a huge shelf of games in the house (two shelves and some in our son’s room as well). Many of these are old favorites, like Monopoly or Scrabble; some are newer games, like Apples to Apples and Blink. No matter what games may lurk in your closet at home, they occupy that space for a reason. Homeschoolers, and parents who are active in their children’s education, often try to make learning as fun as we can, and games are a primary way to do that.

One way to learn about new games is to read magazines about games – educational magazines offer great reviews about some of the newer educational games available. However, I first heard of gamemakers like Out of the Box games (the company that makes "Apples to Apples" and "Fish Eat Fish" and more) before many others did. It was five years ago in Milwaukee, WI, at a place called Gen Con.

Gen Con stands for “General Convention,” a convention for gamers of all ages and types to check out what is up and coming. Often a vehicle for computer, console, or roll-playing games, newer companies with only one or two games will show up, trying to create awareness of their product to both consumers and the gaming community at large. This is where our family encountered this crazy game, Apples to Apples, and the company that made it.

Their booth was small, only three little tables and a couple of game developers to play the game with you (compared to this year, where they were triple the size and had quadrupled their game offerings). At the time, they offered Apples to Apples, ATA Jr. Blink, My Word, and Squint. The directions were simple, and a small group was already playing, so they let me jump in for a few rounds. The green adjective card read “Crusty,” and I swept my first hand with a card that read “My Underwear.” Hilarity ensued and I was hooked.

We also got to see the Mayfair Games booth, another large booth with the catchy slogan “University of Catan.” Settlers of Catan has acquired such a niche following over its ten years that Mayfair now offers expansion packs and other variations, all of which could be played that the convention. Last year we played a new game called Amazonas, which fits Mayfair Games’ theme of exploration, this time in the Amazon Jungle. This year we doled out the $49.00 to actually take it home and play. We can’t wait! In addition to these large, thus pricey (but well worth it) games, Mayfair Games offers smaller card games as well, including the one we picked up last year, Farfalia, a trick-taking game about collecting nature specimens.

However, for each huge booth at the Con, there are always several smaller booths of the up and coming new game companies. One such company is Morning Star Games which showcased some current favorites: You’re Pulling My Leg and JabberWacky, which are games that involve making up sentences or stories, and Pet Detectives, modeled after Go-Fish. An added bonus to these games – they come in the standard box, or for a buck or two more, in a sturdy metal “lunchbox.”

This year we also got to play two games by companies that are new to the game world for kids. The first is Mimic, a card matching game using beautiful, kaleidoscopic animal art on the cards to match by color and animal. With some bonus cards in the mix to move or replace cards on the boards, trying to win can be more difficult than one thinks! They are also looking at bringing out more themed versions over the next year.

In addition to Mimic, we also played a card game called “Infinity – the card game” developed by a substitute teacher and mom of two. This fun game is a mix of Crazy Eights and Rummy and uses great comical art on the cards. The bonus to this game is it gives the player the opportunity to do what everyone wants to do sometime while playing Rummy – and that is take cards from someone else’s played cards to make your run or set. Plus, with Wild cards thrown in to help, you never know who will win, no matter how many cards one holds in his or her hands!

All in all, if you are trying to find a new game or a hard-to-find recommendation, and want to play it first, you might want make a family vacation to a gaming convention. Gen Con Indy takes place every year in Indianapolis, IN, during August. Gen Con West takes place in Los Angeles, in November.

A Good Question

2006-08-01T20:53:00.000-04:00

By Michelle Dalrymple

I like to chat with my students. Before, after, even during, I will try to converse with my students about almost anything – holidays, the weekend, family, schoolwork. I find this makes me seem more approachable, and students are more likely to ask me questions or for help. Plus, I am an avid talker. I have been known to stay after class for up to an hour or more just to chat with students.

Over the course of the semester, I will usually share that I homeschool my children, and this always is cause for more conversing. Some will want to know why; others share that they or someone they know homeschools. I’ve even had students write their final papers about some aspect of homeschooling. However, of all my students and all the questions they have asked me about homeschooling, there is one question that was only asked once, and it really, really made me stop and think.

Here is the set up: every year, I have students whose ages vary from the 16 year old high schooler to the 65 year old retiree who wants to write in his or her spare time. This particular student was very bright, and she had the benefit of life experience on her side as well. She was in her late thirties to early forties; her kids were out of the house, and she was looking to move forward in her career.

In class she asked great questions, made interesting comments, and ended up taking a second class with me the following semester. About a month or so into the class we mentioned something about education, and she raised her hand. Her question: “How do you balance the fact you homeschool against the fact that you teach at a public institution?” Hmm.

It’s not that this question has not been asked before, quite the contrary. I have read about teachers such as David Guterson – a high school English teacher who homeschools his children. I have seen statistics about public school teachers who either send their children to public or private school, or if that is not feasible, home educate. Public teachers homeschooling their children is nothing new; if anything it is often a sad statement about the effects of public education. It is like seeing a doctor in a hospital and having him say that his family does not go to that same hospital; they go to one across town. Not exactly a ringing endorsement for said institution.

However, the question had never been posed to me. And in the very place I teach – yikes! I had been asked a lot of questions. My grandmother’s and aunt’s barrage of questions every time they called or visited gave me plenty of practice answering whatever question might pass my way. Any question, that is, but this one.

There I stood at the front of the class, dry-erase marker in hand, and I was speechless. It took me a moment to gather my thoughts and ask myself, “Yeah. How do I balance that?” Just their year before I had applied for a full time position at the college – what did I think of the education system that was passing public school students on to me?

I admit that I was secretly pleased that this probing question came from a student. Even though it was an older “non-traditional” student, the question she posed did reaffirm my faith that not all publicly schooled students were sub-par; in this particular class it seemed almost the norm. Between students talking with each other louder than I could lecture and those playing “Knock out Osama Bin Laden” on the computer, my faith in the students coming into my classes was at an all-time low. However, her question was deep, probing, and well-spoken. I don’t get students like her very often, but when I do I realize that was the answer to her question.

I balance it with students like herself, public school students who taught themselves, or those who wanted more out of school but didn’t get it. I also balance it with the homeschooled students coming into my class, that a professor like me might be a welcome sight to a new college student – that I might be a bit more receptive to alternatively educated students, homeschool, alternative schools, Christian schools, or otherwise, than many other professors might be.

Finally, I balance it with the fact that college is a completely affective environment, and I want my children to be as prepared for it as possible. As a professor, I see what I do and don’t want my children to be. Homeschooling gives me much more leverage to permit that to happen.

Something That Has Recently Sparked My Interest

2006-07-26T17:03:00.000-04:00

On Feminist Writing:

I think that, with all of the feminist rhetoric about a woman’s right to choose in the modern age, Linda Hirshman’s criticism of many college-educated women who choose to stay home with their children is pathetic. For the past 40 years, feminists have repeatedly told women to be equal to men, that we can choose to be anything we want to be. It seems, though, that if that choice is to be a stay at home mom, it is a wrong choice.

If anything, Ms. Hirshman and her assessments about the obligation of educated women to remain in the workplace are injudicious at best. She seems to forget that, aside from the core idea of choice and opportunity, we should want more educated women at home, applying that knowledge to raising their children.

College educated women, especially those with advanced degrees, understand the value of education and are providing an environment that can cater to that importance. They read books on parenting, know the importance of reading to their children, and can use the knowledge they do have to help with homework and school projects. They can even volunteer to apply those much needed abilities to often understaffed schools. Further, many of these well educated women elect to take one additional step and put the education of their children into their own hands – they are educating their children at home.

Of all the possible results that could come from such a situation, why is the loss of women in the work place the focus? Shouldn’t the focus be on the fact these mothers are showing their children that, even with a college education, their choices are still limitless? That their little girls can grow up to be doctors, nurses, writers, or moms? And if the mother has a part-time, work-from-home job, doesn’t that better illustrate to children what work is and why it is important? Doesn’t it show boys that women (like their moms) can be have any job or be a stay at home mom – that doesn’t lessen her mind or value?

When feminists lament the loss of women in the workplace, they are missing the bigger picture. They are missing the fact that brilliant women are raising children to accomplish as much as they did or more. Feminists don’t want to recognize that these mothers are giving their children a score of opportunities that working moms often can’t. These moms are raising children who value education for education’s sake, not for the job it can get them or how much money they can make. These children are learning that they can get an education and truly do anything with it they want – work, volunteer, or stay home with the kids.

The greatest possible result from this working mom exodus is that these moms get to spend their time with their children while they are children, to see all the wonder and joy that these children bring to their lives. They can take that expensive college degree in art, pile the kids in the minivan, and share in the wonder as those children see an impressionist piece for the first time at the art museum. The architect can experience the awe with a child as she shares the concepts of line and space while they admire a building. The writer can enjoy her daughter’s discovery of Wuthering Heights as they read the book together and then write about the experience.

Ms. Hirshman’s greatest lament is the loss of women with advanced degrees trading the workplace for the home. However, as a woman who as done so, I am most concerned about Ms. Hirshman’s misplaced sense of responsibility and her misguided invasion of privacy. I took my master’s exams three months pregnant, and the day my first child was born, I told my husband that there was no way I could leave this baby and work full time. Only out of necessity for money did I work full time for a year and a half, and the minute the opportunity presented itself to quit and work elsewhere for a few hours a week, I took it.

To me, as it is to many women, once children are born, the responsibility is to them. Insinuating to a well-educated mother that her children come second to her job is an affront. It is like saying, “You are smart enough to work. Aren’t you smart enough to know you shouldn’t be home with the kids?” If these women are so smart, why are feminists second-guessing them? The right to choose when and where I work is my right as a woman, and no one, especially Ms. Hirshman, has the right to tell me, or any other mom, where she should work.

Moreover, it is none of her business. When feminists begin to dictate when and where women should work, where will it end? Will a woman be forced to become a doctor instead of a nurse since it is more revered and we need more women doctors? Will a woman be told to study business instead of French since it is more lucrative and does not perpetuate the stereotype of the female French teacher? The right to choose is the feminist mantra, but it would appear a limited mantra. The right to choose obviously does not extend on the quality of a woman’s life with regards to work, if we listen to Hirshman and women of her ilk.

It seems that Hirshman assumes that once a woman trades in her sensible pumps for comfy houseshoes, she will no longer be a “liberated” woman. Suddenly, this woman will become nothing more than a limp existence of herself, living only to cook, clean, and wipe the snotty noses of her young wards. It is disturbing that this is the vision of the modern feminist movement. She may cook and clean more, since she is home and the husband is not, but that is not the sole value of her existence. She can now teach her sons the value of housework to the benefit of any woman they may one day marry. Now it is no longer women’s work. It is just work. That liberated woman is still liberated, whether she works in the house or out; plus she has the opportunity to pass those liberated ideals down to her children who will then accept them as fact, not as a field of study in a university.

It is not as though once a woman leaves the workplace to be a mom that she leaves her brain at the office. She takes that knowledge with her into the home and shares that knowledge with her family, making them strong and more educated as a result. If anything, we should encourage mothers with degrees to get back into the homes, to use that mind to learn all they can about their children, show them the value of education, and pass that love of learning on, thus encouraging the future of this country to become better educated themselves.

While this exodus may result in fewer women in the workplace, the resulting generation that will be better prepared for that same workplace is a fine trade-off. Ultimately, it really doesn’t matter what feminists think of educated women leaving the workplace; what matters is that women have the choice and opportunity to do so, and isn’t that the idea behind feminism in the first place?

Introductions

2006-07-26T16:57:00.000-04:00

Here is my blog spot on the web. I plan on using this spot for serial chapters for my books and the like. If you are interested in my homeschool writings, check out familyd.50megs.com.