Expecting

Just a moment
(That’s all it took)
For a whole life to begin

Tiny, growing
Moving unseen
In the darkness of a womb

Cherished child
I’ve yet to meet
My heartbeats measure my love

In wonderment
My soul certain
Claiming your sweet existence

Forever mine
Forever yours
My flesh of flesh, heart of hearts

My soul’s desire
Answered by God
Double my expectations

If I Were to Live Life More as a Child

It was not so long ago (or so it seems) that I was just a mere child. Now I am (happily) weighted by responsibility and schedules and many, many demands. Sometimes these responsibilities I view more as burdens though they are really blessings I would never voluntarily unburden myself of. After all, I love my life and glory in the details of it— most of the time. With the number of children that live with me, I have ample opportunity to observe their workings and daily machinations though I do not often enough just sit back and watch them as the magnificent creations that they are as much as I should. I have a great deal to learn from them.

As my shoulders tighten through the day with stress aggravating my “I wish I could_____” thoughts, I muse what my life would be like if I were to become more like a child again. I wonder if my stress would be a great deal less than it is now if only I would live out what I have listed below.

I would rest at night peacefully and thoroughly, not anxious about meaningless things, content that all my basic needs will be taken care of. I’d awaken wondering what surprises were in store for me, thinking maybe only as far as breakfast and note whether it was sunny enough to play outdoors.

Unexpected visitors, bugs, stray dogs and unusual goings-on would be greeted as happy surprises and met with loud excitement. My small attention span would leave plenty of room for things to just come up on the schedule without stress of bumping other things off to another day. I’d be happy just to do something new and unusual, fearlessly! People like the mailman, our neighbors, and the neighborhood dogs would be prominent in my thoughts and tops on my list of subjects to observe from the safety of my tree.

I would hug a lot more people-- just because I really like them.

I would examine my environment to find what entertainment I could create for myself. I would more often stand under the long arms of a tree in awe of the majestic creation that they are: collecting their leaves as blankets for fairies, their twigs and branches for use as ship’s masts and hobo knapsack holders just in case I ever needed one. I would collect pretty rocks and anything that remotely looked like an arrow head. The lot of creation I would see as mine to explore and worthy of LOADS of questions. The man in the moon would be an endless source of fascination- just who is he? Does he have a name?

I might often feel the urge to spontaneously draw with crayons, rearrange my room, squish playdoh, run wildly into the wind, make precious objects found in the trash, and pretend more- letting my mind drift around everywhere.

I would be less worried about clothes on the floor, the magnetism of horizontal surfaces to loads of things and dust, and whether my hair was brushed. All gifts would be treasured and stowed safely (somewhere) in my room- best placed in a box inside another box, hidden under something else as a keepsake. They would be precious because of who gave it to me and I would never want to throw it away because they made me feel special.

I wouldn’t give a hoot about practicality or cost. I’d be more willing to experiment- with what I wear, how I talk, what I mix together on my plate, with what friends I like and what my new favorite activity might be. I would do what I wanted to do and eat just what I wanted to eat regardless of the cost or whether it made sense. I might just eat only things that are red one day.

Sometimes I would cry just because.

I wouldn’t worry so much about how I look. I’d smile at myself in the mirror. A lot.

I have no wish to become a child again, but I do wish to live a bit more in the moments, fascinated and grateful for each new, beautiful day.

There goes our rights- again...

http://www.townhall.com/columnists/JaySekulow/2007/01/12/speaker_pelosi_to_monitor_your_church

check out the above link... to highlight a paragraph from the article to explain that the bill would:
impose registration and reporting requirements on churches and other nonprofit organizations. This is because the definition of “lobbyist” and “lobbying firms” includes specifically grassroots-organizing efforts. Under this broad-based regulatory scheme that Nancy Pelosi is advocating, many churches, especially larger churches with TV and radio ministries, would be subject to registration as a lobbying organization. Failure to comply with these lobbying requirements could result in fines and even criminal sanctions. Churches and their pastors who address the social issues of the day and encourage members and non-members alike to mobilize for action, including communications with Congress, would be required to make certain initial and quarterly disclosures to the United States Congress about their activities.

What a way to herald the new year with our congress- by the people and for the people right?

Luckily there is an amendment underway: (from http://www.citizenlink.org/CLtopstories/A000003607.cfm)

Sen. Robert Bennett, R-Utah, introduced an amendment to strike the provision according to his communications director, Emily Christensen.
An aide to Sen. Mitch McConnell, R-Ky., said he is a co-sponsor of the amendment. That’s significant because not only is McConnell now minority leader in the Senate, but he’s also one of the Republican co-sponsors of S. 1.

SO- write your congressmen and women- perhaps even something like this:

Subject: Support the Bennett Amendment to Strike a Section of S. 1 That Would Limit Free Speech
I understand that an amendment has been introduced to remove an extremely troubling provision in S. 1, a bill you and your colleagues are now debating. I can't emphasize to you enough my hope that you will support this amendment -- and support my right to free speech. As I understand it, the provision in question -- Section 220 -- would place severe restrictions on my right to hear from groups I trust about what is going on in Congress. Because these groups be subject to fines of $100,000 for not complying with the miles of red tape the bill mandates, I am greatly concerned they will simply stop providing me with information I need to know about legislation that affects me. I applaud your efforts to clean up the unethical activity of some lobbyists on Capitol Hill -- but those are not the kinds of lobbyists being targeted by Section 220. People like me are the ones being targeted. So, please vote for the Bennett amendment to strip the unfair grassroots-lobbying provisions in S.1. Anything less would be allowing a muzzle to be placed on the very men and women who put you in office.

Brief Moments

Today was eventful- our dearest, smallest one is attempting to crawl. The scooch backward is in effect, the strong bowed arms , the lifted head and arched back- in mere moments she will be on her way.

This mark of independence has already suggested in my mind her going off to college. Small steps in that direction, I know, but the tiny steps set a trend for the giant leaps. I am grateful that she is not the first- to whom I longed to see the milestones before they were ready, couldn't wait for them utter their first words, see their emerging characters as they blossomed from babes to children. For this dear child I wish to savor every moment. I relish in the delicate skin, the find hair, the toothless smiles, the early morning coos and calls. I love being the comfort to her cries, the antidote to sadness for her. Love it.

I simply cannot be too busy to enjoy every moment of her. So while my house is a disaster, our breakfasts are simple affairs, many conversations with friends must be tabled, and great books are put aside, for this season, I have an extraordinary subject to study. It is but a short time, the briefest of moments, that I will have this opportunity. I dare not miss a second.

Video Gaming and the younger set

Now I have had my objections to the relentless pursuit of gaming against all rational boundaries... but I am not totally opposed to them by any means. I believe it is good for gents to be able to release their inner carnal selves in a safely controlled electronic environment free of "real" blood and that might help them to not to purchase additional power tools from the hardware store. I am also strongly opposed to the "not in MY house with MY hubby" mentality of a dozen of my friends who are scared of losing their husbands indefinitely to the drone of the console. (In fact, I believe trying to control one's husband in any way, shape or form will invariably produce dischord in the relationship).

That said, I am concerned about the younger gen's devotion to the marketing, the constant stimulation, and the lack of physical play, not to mention the violence that comes packaged on the game cubes, xboxs and play stations. I am not a giant fan of welcoming the sound of gunfire and the sound of shell casings falling to the floor at 7 am. I do not enjoy the sullied attitude of my dear 10 year old when gaming has gone on for longer than an hour. It appears to me that he is just brighter, more positive, and more his true self when he has not vegetated in the dim cavern of gameland.

What I had not factored into my discontent was the way games have replaced reading. This scathing article I found hilarious (and utterly one sided) and interesting. Enjoy.

Computer Games
Boris Johnson
http://www.boris-johnson.com/archives/2006/12/computer_games.php#more


The writing is on the wall - computer games rot the brain

It's the snarl that gives the game away. It's the sobbing and the shrieking and the horrible pleading -- that's how you know your children are undergoing a sudden narcotic withdrawal. As the strobing colours die away and the screen goes black, you listen to the wail of protest from the offspring and you know that you have just turned off their drug, and you know that, to a greater or lesser extent, they are addicts.

Some children have it bad. Some are miraculously unaffected. But millions of seven- to 15-year-olds are hooked, especially boys, and it is time someone had the guts to stand up, cross the room and just say no to Nintendo. It is time to garrotte the Game Boy and paralyse the PlayStation, and it is about time, as a society, that we admitted the catastrophic effect these blasted gizmos are having on the literacy and the prospects of young males.


It was among the first acts of the Labour Government to institute a universal "literacy" hour in primary schools; and yet, in the six years following 1997, the numbers of young children who said that they didn't like reading rose from 23 per cent to 35 per cent. In spite of all our cash and effort, the surveys increasingly show that children (especially boys) regard reading as a chore, something that needs to be accomplished for the sake of passing tests, not as a joy in itself. It is a disaster, and I refuse to believe that these hypnotic little machines are innocent.

We demand that teachers provide our children with reading skills; we expect the schools to fill them with a love of books; and yet at home we let them slump in front of the consoles. We get on with our hedonistic 21st-century lives while in some other room the nippers are bleeping and zapping in speechless rapture, their passive faces washed in explosions and gore. They sit for so long that their souls seem to have been sucked down the cathode ray tube.

They become like blinking lizards, motionless, absorbed, only the twitching of their hands showing they are still conscious. These machines teach them nothing. They stimulate no ratiocination, discovery or feat of memory -- though some of them may cunningly pretend to be educational. I have just watched an 11-year-old play a game that looked fairly historical, on the packet. Your average guilt-ridden parent might assume that it taught the child something about the Vikings and medieval siege warfare.

Phooey! The red soldiers robotically slaughtered the white soldiers, and then they did it again, that was it. Everything was programmed, spoon-fed, immediate -- and endlessly showering the player with undeserved praise, richly congratulating him for his bogus massacres. The more addictive these games are to the male mind, the more difficult it is to persuade boys to read books; and that is why it is no comfort that Britain has more computer games per household than any other EU country, and, even though they are wince-makingly expensive, an amazing 89 per cent of British households with children now boast a games console, with distribution right across the socio-economic groups.

Every child must have one, and what we fail to grasp is that these possessions are not so much an index of wealth as a cause of ignorance and underachievement and, yes, poverty. It hardly matters how much cash we pour into reading in schools if there is no culture of reading at home; and the consequences of this failure to read can be seen throughout the education system.

Huge numbers are still leaving primary school in a state of functional illiteracy, with 44 per cent unable either to read, write or do basic sums. By the age of 14, there are still 40 per cent whose literacy or numeracy is not up to the expected standard, and a large proportion of the effort at Further Education colleges (about 20 per cent) is devoted to remedial reading and writing. Even at university, there are now terrifying numbers of students who cannot express themselves in the kind of clear, logical English required for an essay, and in many important respects if you can't write, you can't think. The Royal Literary Fund has, in the past few years, done a wonderful job of establishing Writing Fellows at our universities, offering therapy for those who can't put their thoughts on paper; and yet the fund admits that the scale of the problem is quite beyond its abilities.

It is a shock, arriving at university, and being asked to compose an essay of a couple of thousand words, and then discovering that you can't do it; and this demoralisation is a major cause of dropping-out. It's not that the students lack the brains; the raw circuitry is better than ever. It's the software that's the problem. They have not been properly programmed, because they have not read enough. The only way to learn to write is to be forced time and again to articulate your own thoughts in your own words, and you haven't a hope of doing this if you haven't read enough to absorb the basic elements of vocabulary, grammar, rhythm, style and structure; and young males in particular won't read enough if we continually capitulate and let them fritter their lives away in front of these drivelling machines.

Gordon Brown proposed in his Pre-Budget Report to spend £2,000 per head on improving the reading of six-year-old boys. That is all well and good, especially when you consider that the cost of remedial English in secondary school soars to £50,000 per head. But it would be cheaper and possibly more effective if we all -- politicians, parents, whoever -- had the nerve to crack down on this electronic opiate.

So I say now: stop just lying there in your post-Christmas state of crapulous indifference. Get up off the sofa. Can the DVD of Desperate Housewives, and go to where your children are sitting in auto-lobotomy in front of the console.

Summon up all your strength, all your courage. Steel yourself for the screams and yank out that plug.

And if they still kick up a fuss, then get out the sledgehammer and strike a blow for literacy.

Behind the news...

Irony in the Keith Ellison story

Posted by dpulliam
Let’s give a big round of applause to The Washington Post’s gossip columnists, Amy Argetsinger and Roxanne Roberts, for cornering an ironic bit of religion news Wednesday regarding the swearing in of the first Muslim in Congress. The irony of the story was not fully fleshed out, which is a pity because there is plenty of it.
Here’s the crux of the Post story:
Rep.-elect Keith Ellison, the first Muslim elected to Congress, found himself under attack last month when he announced he’d take his oath of office on the Koran — especially from Virginia Rep. Virgil Goode, who called it a threat to American values.
Yet the holy book at tomorrow’s ceremony has an unassailably all-American provenance. We’ve learned that the new congressman — in a savvy bit of political symbolism — will hold the personal copy once owned by Thomas Jefferson.
Now, Goode happens to represent the district that contains Albemarle County, the location of Jefferson’s birth. How’s that for ironic? Goode apparently didn’t feel like commenting for this story, which is not surprising considering the reverence that Virginians generally feel for President Jefferson.
But what’s even more ironic is that Argetsinger and Roberts do not mention that Jefferson once used a razor blade to the New Testament, removing its references to the supernatural but maintaining the moral teachings of Jesus Christ. Critics of Ellison, like Rep. Goode, are not likely to hold up Mr. Jefferson’s shredding of the Bible as the epitome of American religious tradition.
Another irony to consider is that Jefferson’s copy of the Koran is an English translation. A translation of the Koran is considered only for personal use and is more accurately referred to as an “interpretation.” It is technically not even a holy book.
To recap, America’s first Muslim congressman is using an interpretation of the Koran owned by a man who sliced up the Bible for his swearing-in ceremony. Except that he isn’t.
Sarah Wheaton of The New York Times, in a very helpful blog post, clarifies that Ellison won’t be swearing in on anything:
Mr. Ellison is not swearing in on the Koran. And no incoming members of Congress swear in on the Bible. Everyone is sworn in together during a private ceremony without any religious text. It’s only during a ceremonial photo-op that a book may be brought out.
Well, that basically ruins all the fun. The actual swearing-in ceremony, contrary to nearly every news story on this matter, does not contain a religious element. The religious element is only included in the purely optional photo-op. How’s that for the American tradition? You can’t help but wonder why the media have not covered this story more intelligently.
I would like to suggest that the real story is the message that a Muslim-American congressman sends to the world. That’s the story reporters should be looking at.