3 boys o' mine

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Location: Colorado, United States

I'm a 38 year-old mother of three who was blessed enough to marry the right guy. I like to paint and create strange things out of clay and also read, write, run, drink and laugh. I have no idea where the time is going.

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Sunday, February 24, 2008

oscar mayer weiners (and I don't mean that in a good way)

Why oh why can't they just make their little movies, take their little trophies and shut their stupid mouths? I swear, I can't take it anymore. For some reason I felt compelled to watch the Oscars this year but I tried and I just can't do it.

It started on the red carpet with some ditzy actress showing off her orange ribbon so proudly and saying it was for Gitmo. "We have to close Guantanomo because it's creating danger in the world," she gushed. Let's see, when the terrorists capture one of our guys they behead them, burn their bodies and drag them through the streets. When we capture one of their guys, they get three meals a day and special diets in keeping with their religious beliefs. The same religious beliefs that inspire them to kill us, the infidels. That doesn't make us evil, that makes us suckers. Of course Michael Moore was next and he couldn't help but apologize to the world on behalf of America. What nerve. He and all the other Hollywood assholes are living the American dream and biting the hand that feeds them. They're dripping with diamonds, wearing multi-thousand dollar gowns and have the audacity to act like they really, really care about things that matter. The reason they're dropping like flies from overdoses and heading to rehab like lemmings is because they actually don't care about things that matter. They don't even know the first thing about what really matters.

Never mind that most of them have barely finished high-school and most never even dabbled in higher education. Yet the American public laps up the dreck that pours out of their pretty little mouths like it's golden. The most terrifying thing is that these morons actually affect public opinion and shape public policy!

I hate them. I hate their materialistic, socialistic, shallow, vapid ways. I resent the fact that they actually had to give the Oscars a PG rating for language because they can never predict what will come out of those low-lifes mouths on live TV. I hate the fact that they had Jon Stewart as the host. He may be funny but everyone knows he's a left-winger and we would all be subjected to his personal remarks about Bush and the war. Would they have considered for one moment having a conservative equivalent of Jon as the host? Hell no. That's the thing about the Hollywood liberal elitists. They are the most intolerant, hypocritical jerks in the world.

I hate them.



Wow it felt good to get that out.



* Denzel Washington is excluded from this rant, just FYI.

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Monday, February 11, 2008

i'm gonna miss this

I had just dropped off all three boys at their respective Tuesday morning classes and could hear the call of Freedom as I peeled out of the parking lot and watched the school get smaller in my sideview mirror (I had no rearview mirror anymore thanks to some monkey who'd torn it off a few years back-I won't name any names). It was one of the two mornings a week I got two whole hours to myself with no children and my mind was racing as to how I should best spend it...Should I shop? Work out? Blog? Play with clay? The possibilities were endless.

Lately I'd been having more than my share of those days when I was awakened by demanding little boys and thought to myself, 'Just 14 hours until they go to sleep again and I can have some peace!' I had a stack of books on my bedside table I'd been unable to get to, hours of movies and shows on the DVR still unseen, and untold numbers of ideas floating around my head that evaporated as soon as I heard whining and fighting. The time I spent on my computer keeping up with friends and my online shop were overshadowed by the guilt I felt for not paying 100% attention during that time. The lyrics to "the Cat's in the Cradle" ran through my head several times a day, at least.

I turned the radio on and was thinking how wonderful it was to actually hear it for once since there was no sibling rivalry to deal with in the back seat, when a song came on that I'd never heard before. It was called, "You're Gonna Miss This." By the end of it I was in tears, blubbering like a baby. Damn that country music! How I hated to be emotionally manipulated by a hokey song! But it was a good one, at least.


It really seems like yesterday that I was in high school, even though it's been 17 years now. And in 17 more my youngest will be 21, and my oldest 25. And who knows, I might even be a grandparent.


There are so many things I don't want to take for granted as a mother. Moments that slip away and can never be brought back. Like hearing Cooper's stream-of-consciousness thoughts as soon as he walks out the door from pre-school, telling me about the snack he had and the art he made, what his teacher said and who he played with. I'll especially miss holding his soft, warm little boy hand in mine. He's the only one who still allows me that pleasure.

I'll miss waking up to my husband's handsome face and then seeing small replicas of him come plodding into our room in footed PJ's, climbing into bed to snuggle or wrestle like bear cubs as soon as they shake the sleep off. One with his face, one with his build and one with his love of words.

I'll miss their baby voices and how Clayton still says 'gwull' instead of girl. And how Cooper loves to use the word 'except', but instead pronounces it 'ec-sumpt.'

I'll miss hearing Cole's stories and poems and what he dreamed about the night before, always recounting it in vivid detail. I'll miss seeing the look on his face when he learns a new word that's just what he was looking for. I wouldn't be at all surprised if he turns out to be famous some day.

It will be sad when no one gets excited when the trash truck comes or a plane flies overhead. "Mom! Mom! Look!" with tiny fingers pointing high. And what will I do when they no longer want to go to the zoo or a park with me, instead choosing to hang out with their friends.

I'll miss having drawers full of crayons, play-doh, construction paper and glue and walls filled with colorful children's art. I may even miss the plastic toys I trip over all the time that somehow always stab me in the soft part on the bottom of my feet. Maybe not.

But one of the things I'll miss the most is living with a group of little people that still assumes the world is good and people always mean well. I wish I was still a child in so many ways. And I wish my boys' childhoods could last for many more years.


The words ring true:

You're gonna miss this
You're gonna want this back
You're gonna wish these days hadn't gone by so fast
These are some good times
So take a good look around
You may not know it now
But you're gonna miss this



I am going to miss this part of my life when it's gone. The kisses, the smiles, even the rivalry between brothers. Small boys, together under my roof, safe and sound. These truly are some good times.


Monday, February 04, 2008

a cure worse than the disease

I sat there alone and miserable, hardly able to swallow. Suffering from strep throat, I was burning up with fever and felt awful. The dry heat blasting into the cave-like waiting room made it even worse. Six hours later I was finally called in to see a doctor. He took a culture from my throat with a long, scratchy swab and gave me a prescription for some antibiotics. From there I went to another waiting area to get the drugs that would hopefully give me some relief. That was not a short wait, either.

As the daughter of an Army Officer, my healthcare was provided by none other than the U.S. government. When we needed a check-up it was wise to make it well in advance. Several months, at least. Then once we actually got in to see the doctor, the "service" was sub-par. We never saw the same doctor twice and were treated like cattle, herded through the process as quickly as possible. After all, thousands more people were in line behind us.

For cases like strep throat and other emergencies, they did have ER services in the basement of the old hospital building on base. My mother, siblings and I spent untold hours of our lives waiting on help for various childhood ailments there. It totally sucked to say the least. But there was no point in complaining about the level of service because no one cared. Since it was run by the government there was no competition that could run them out of business for poor customer service.

Once I was out from under that government sponsored "umbrella" of healthcare, there was a period of time I was completely uninsured. Thankfully, I enjoyed excellent health...until I got appendicitis. But even without coverage, I was able to go to a nice hospital, get help from an excellent surgeon and be released a couple of days later. It was not ideal to be uninsured, but it wasn't like they threw me out on the street or something. In fact, the surgeon ended up waiving his fees for the surgery out of the kindness of his heart.

Years later, when I got married and especially when we started our family, healthcare coverage became top priority. My husband and I sought out jobs with companies that offered great benefits, even if the pay was not. We loathed those jobs but we were grateful to have what we had.

One time my husband took a job that didn't offer healthcare benefits so we paid out-of-pocket to have coverage, just in case. As a family of five living on one income and even sharing a car to cut down on costs, it was not cheap or easy. It was just life. Another bill to be paid. It never crossed our minds once that the government should be paying for us to have healthcare. Besides, I knew first hand what kind of care the government could offer. There were no rose-colored glasses on my eyes.

The statistic I've heard is that there are about 50 million uninsured Americans. That means about 250 million are covered in some way. Many of those uninsured choose to go without coverage. I'm not sure if a less than 17% uninsured rate constitutes a true crisis.

How can anyone truly believe that the same large, incompetent, inefficient government that mishandled the Katrina crisis and manages to lower the bar every time I have to buy a stamp or register my vehicle could possibly run a national health care system? Would you ever trust your health records to the same people who lost the original footage of the moon walk? Or the same people who have mismanaged social security and medicare for so long? Seriously?

Call me selfish but I wouldn't want to wait months to have surgery for breast cancer or years to get an MRI or hip replacement like many Canadians do. The cancer survival rate is 16% lower there, by the way. I don't want to go back to six hour long waits in the ER for a treatment I can get in less than an hour right now. I like that I have options of where I go, what doctor I see and can even get a second and third opinion. My husband and I have worked hard and made decisions and sacrifices in our lives that allow us these choices. I don't think the level of care we get should be lowered because of people who expect the government to take care of them from cradle to grave.

There's got to be a solution that doesn't involve a nationalized system. For instance, putting a stop to frivilous lawsuits would lower healthcare costs for everyone. If doctors and hospitals didn't have to pay through the nose protect themselves it would benefit us all. It would also help if everyone took personal responsibility for their own health and that of their children. Imagine the savings if people stopped smoking, ate healthier, got off the couch now and then and didn't pop a pill for every ailment under the sun.

Basically what I'm saying as a person who has experienced being "taken care of" by the government and been on both sides of the insurance fence is: The system will never be perfect, but things could be a lot worse than they are now. And they will be if we close our eyes, turn off our brains, hop on the feel-good wagon and buy into the nationalized healthcare sham.

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