M.I.A.

It’s been a week since I’ve posted anything. I apologize, I was on vacation last week and am just now getting back into the swing of things. Above are a few photos to explain the absence. Boston and up the coast to Maine -- beautiful. . .

MySpace Gangsters

I first heard of MySpace (an online community) about 4 or 5 years ago, when my son was in high school. My son and daughter both created their own MySpace pages. I was so shocked by the boldness of some of the photos and postings of some of their friends that I monitored my kids’ activities on MySpace very closely. I visited their pages regularly to conduct what I called “MySpace raids.” When I saw that strangers were contacting my daughter through MySpace, I made her make her page private – which meant that she could control visitors to her page.

Back in those early days of MySpace I was so concerned about all this information on the Internet for the world to see, that I contacted some of the parents of my children’s friends. I wanted them to know about the kind of photos, information, comments and postings that were out there. Amazingly many of the parents didn’t seem to be concerned at all. I suggested that they check their kid’s pages periodically. A few parents shut their kids down all together, a couple took the time to look at the pages and the rest did nothing.

The message that I continue to reiterate to my children (they are 21 and 16 so I’m using the word children loosely) is that everything on the Internet is public. Even if your page is private -- the information can still be accessed by an untold number of people. I want them to realize that they should be mindful of the image they are portraying through the site.

Some of their friends have inappropriate photos and profanity all over their sites. For some reason MySpace seems to give people a since of power and freedom. People put all their business right on the Internet without reserve.

The other interesting thing about MySpace is that you can really get a feel for who a person really and truly is based on the friends listed and their comments. Association brings about assimilation. How very true is that saying.

In the news the other day was a story about a man in Florida who threatened a police station via MySpace. His threat was there along with his – gun in hand – photo. Fortunately he was arrested before going on his shooting spree.

My son calls MySpace “the devil” and calls people who use MySpace to either catch their boyfriend/girlfriend cheating or to threaten other people “MySpace gangsters”.

I’m especially concerned about young people’s use of MySpace. Kids tend to think they are invincible. Maybe MySpace is still too much of a novelty for people to step back and realize that it can be dangerous. Discretion and prudence are the name of the game.

More Birthday Stuff

It’s tradition in our family for the people celebrating their “un-birthday” (remember that from Alice in Wonderland?) to wake early on the morning of the birthday person’s birthday, tiptoe into his/her room and sing Happy Birthday. So, knowing my early morning schedule, my kids set their alarms for 6 this morning and came into my room singing and bearing gifts. B gave me a big basket from Bath and Body works. L gave me a yellow sun dress. My morning is definitely off to a nice start.

Traditionally on their birthdays I tell them the story of their birth. I tell them about labor and what I thought when I first held them. This morning, they returned the tradition (kind of) by telling me a funny childhood story.

We had some, “Mom, remember the time . .?” moments. L told the story about putting the smooth, pretty rock in her mouth for safe keeping – and swallowing it. I had to take her to emergency and then check her poop for several days afterward looking for that darned rock. There are no limits to the disgusting things a mother will do for her child.

B told the story about the fast little girl who wrote him a love note in elementary school. He showed me the note and I was outraged. My child was only in 4th grade and this little girl was asking about ”getting with him”. I took the note to the principal and the girl was suspended. I had to protect my child from that little Jezebel.

They really made me happy this morning. Because it was so early on a Saturday morning, I fully expected them to sing, drop the gifts and run back to bed. But not only did they spend some time with me this morning (much earlier than they would have liked) L is in the kitchen now making breakfast for me. And, later today we are all going golfing. It doesn’t get much better than this.

Thank God for birthdays! Tomorrow -- back to reality.

45 is Cool!

I’ll be 45 years old tomorrow. That’s absolutely amazing to me. I certainly don’t feel like I thought I’d feel reaching 45. My friends and I often talk about the fact that we still feel like we’re in our 20’s. I’d like to think that I don’t look 45 either.

Of course I must admit that my body constantly reminds me that I am indeed aging. My hair is thinning a little and I can no longer ignore the gray. I have to wear glasses to read when I used to have 20/20 vision. I gain weight much more easily when I used to be a little stick. I have high cholesterol when I used to be able to eat all the ice cream I wanted. It takes a few steps each morning for my legs to “warm up” and not hurt when I walk. I have acid reflux when – well wait a minute -- actually I’ve had that for a while. I have restless leg syndrome but hmmm, well I think I’ve always had that too. They just finally put a name to it. (I guess I can't blame everything on aging.) Anyway, my point is that some things are not working as well as they used to work.

In spite of my body’s little reminders, I have no complaints. Some people dread getting older but each year I seem to get a bit more excited. I feel like I am at a new beginning.

I have one grown child and one almost grown. The thought of my children being grown and gone used to make me sad. I so enjoyed every aspect of raising them and spending time with them that I just felt that my life would be empty without them in the home. But now although I love them more than anything and still enjoy spending time with them, I am looking forward to the “me” time. I often tell them that when they leave my mantra will be “catch me if you can” because I plan to travel like crazy.

Being single and the ultimate introvert, my other concern about getting older used to be that I’d be lonely. But now I think about it and recall that I’ve always been able to be ok all by myself. Even now, armed with a good book, I’d actually prefer being alone.

A friend asked me where I’d like to live if I could live anywhere in the world. I couldn’t narrow it down to one place. I would love to either live abroad or on a sprawling ranch someplace. Either adventure would ensure that I wouldn’t have time to be lonely. These aren’t faraway dreams but definite plans for my future.

In talking about my birthday, my daughter asked me how long I’d like to live. My answer was that I’d like to live long enough to see the success of my children’s children. I did some quick math and determined that would put me right around 85 years old.

But I want to be a spunky, self-sufficient 85 year old. I saw a 100 year old woman celebrating her birthday on the news the other day. People gathered around her to sing and were looking at her and treating her like she was a little girl. And then they added insult to injury by putting a party hat on her head. At some point you seem to get so old that people start treating you like you are a child again. I don’t want to be that kind of old.

This point in my life is exciting indeed. I’m 45 with many accomplishments and wonderful memories behind me but they don’t begin to equal all that I see in my future. I’m not sure what 45 is supposed to feel like but I feel really good. 45 is cool!

Matthew 11:28

For most of her young life, my 16 year old daughter has had frequent nightmares. When she was younger she would wake me whenever she had a nightmare. I would go into her room and sing praise songs with her until she calmed down enough to fall asleep.

I just knew that even though I cannot sing at all, (not even a little bit – I know my limitations) singing praise to God would make satan flee. Of course it could be that he fled because he couldn’t stand my singing. Either way – my singing provided peace for my child. I bought her a ring that said, “Fear Not” at that time too. It was to remind her not to be fearful of anything because God was always with her.

I used to have nightmares fairly often myself but I could always link them to either something that happened during the day or some movie that I had no business watching. I can remember that the movie Jagged Edge (1985 -- Glen Close and Jeff Bridges) was one such movie. If you’ve seen the movie, you know that means it doesn’t take much for me to have nightmares.

Several months ago I noticed that I was having nightmares much more frequently. Some weeks I’d have three or four. It was driving me crazy. I’d wake with a racing heart, a headache and a very tired body.

Last week after having a nightmare several nights in a row I mentioned it to my daughter. I told her that I was getting to the point where I was dreading sleep because the nightmares were always so vivid and lasting.

My daughter told me that a few months prior she had successive nightmares and was so frightened that after having one at about 3AM one morning she got up, went downstairs to get her Bible and took it back to her room with her. She said she read a little, prayed and then put the Bible on her nightstand. She said she purposely put it on her nightstand believing that having the Word close would make a difference. She said she wanted her weapon near. According to my daughter, that was her last nightmare.

She reminded me of what should have been obvious -- I should have talked to God about my nightmares. I think I often feel that some of my issues are too small and that I would be bothering God. It’s really amazing how long it sometimes takes to remember to take all of our burdens, all of our cares and even our nightmares to God.

Scripture says, “Come to me, all you who are weary and burdened and I will give you rest.”

Thank you Lord for the rest!!

Desensitization

I received an email from the American Family Association (AFA) a couple days ago. They send email alerts to their subscribers regarding issues of concern to the family or issues that threaten the traditional family. Sometimes I think that they get a little nitpicky with their issues and the emails get to be too much. Other times, I appreciate them keeping me “in the know.”

The email that I received was about a homosexual couple on the soap opera, As the World Turns. This couple recently had a scene in which they kissed (open-mouthed) on screen. (Can I say “yuck!” at this point without being called homophobic?)

Proctor and Gamble sponsors As the World Turns and they established a toll-free number for viewers to call and let them know if they approve or disapprove of the homosexual couple. The AFA wanted subscribers to call Proctor & Gamble to let them know that they oppose the gay kissing scenes.

According to the AFA, “The motive behind P&G’s push is to desensitize viewers, especially younger viewers, to the homosexual lifestyle. The ultimate goal of homosexual activists is homosexual marriage.” Whether this is Proctor & Gamble’s true motive or not -- I do not know. What I do know is that we certainly are becoming desensitized to homosexuality, violence, gore and crime.

Here's an example of what I mean. Growing up I was frightened to death by Alfred Hitchcock movies. The Birds was one of those movies that made me nearly jump out of my skin. A few years ago I rented The Birds because I wanted my kids to see it. To me, it was a classic and Alfred Hitchcock was the greatest.

So, we sat down to watch this movie and I anxiously monitored my kids' faces for a response. At the start of the very first bird attack scene, they started laughing! Then they questioned me, wanting to know exactly what part of the movie was supposed to be the “scary part”. They really wanted to know how and why that movie could have frightened me. They just could not understand. I understood though.

My children had already seen so much on television and in the movies that was a hundred times worse than The Birds, that this movie was more of a comedy than a thriller for them. They had been desensitized.

That’s exactly what is going on in our world in general. The things of the world that used to shock us no longer have that effect. From sex on television to profanity in magazines to vulgarity in songs to homosexuality and over the top violence in movies – we accept it all. Nothing has shock-value anymore. Not only do we fail to think anything is wrong with any of it – we reward it.

Just think about it. What kind of movies typically win awards? Things that used to be considered trash are now considered brilliant works of art. I think it's all such a shame.

Webster defines the word "desensitize" as follows: to make emotionally insensitive or callous; specifically : to extinguish an emotional response (as of fear, anxiety, or guilt) to stimuli that formerly induced it. That sums it up perfectly. We are all desensitized.

My grandmother used to ask, “What is this world coming to?” We no longer need to ask what it's "coming to", we've reached that dreaded point to which she was referring.

Mother's Day Corsages

Having lost two of the most important women in my life (my mother and grandmother) in the late 1990’s, Mother’s Day is one of those “holidays” I wish I could fast forward through.


As a child, I remember going to church and getting a red carnation corsage on Mother’s Day. A red corsage meant that your mother was living and a white one meant that your mother was deceased. Apparently you were to receive a yellow corsage if you had lost a child but my church never went that far.


Because my mother was living at the time, I never gave my red corsage much thought. However, many years later, on the first Mother’s Day after my mother’s suicide, I went to church and was given a white carnation. I burst into tears on the spot. How sad and embarrassing to be “singled out” that way.


I immediately went back to my first memories of the red vs. white corsages and felt sadness for all the prior recipients of white corsages.


So, now I think I’d just rather not wear a corsage at all. Or, maybe this year I’ll wear an orange one. After all, orange is my favorite color. I just don’t want that white corsage distinction. I don’t want people to wonder what happened to my mother. I don’t want the people with red corsages to feel guilty looking at my white one.


Who in the world came up with that tradition anyway? B and L – are you “listening”? Mom wants orange.