Three In One - Finally!

I finally have the pictures from Tali's Baptism for your viewing pleasure. I loved this ceremony. She was baptized, chrismated and communed for the first time - three sacraments received all in one day. Absolutely beautiful! (This is my first attempt at a photobucket slideshow. I'm afraid the captions didn't work out...)

Why women use the bathroom in pairs...

Someone sent me this looong ago, I read it, laughed hysterically then promptly deleted it and never saw it again. Finally today a good friend thought I needed to read it - thanks so much Clemmy! I am posting it here so that I can always go back and read it when I'm having one of "those" days. If you've already seen it, well, sorry. I'm posting it anyway.

When you have to visit a public bathroom, you usually find a line of women, so you smile politely and take your place. Once it's your turn, you check for feet under the stall doors. Every stall is occupied.

Finally, a door opens and you dash in, nearly knocking down the woman leaving the stall. You get in to find the door won't latch. It doesn't matter, the wait has been so long you are about to wet your pants! The dispenser for the modern "seat covers" (invented by someone's Mom, no doubt) is handy, but empty. You would hang your purse on the door hook, if there was one, but there isn't - so you carefully, but quickly drape it around your neck, (Mom would turn over in her grave if you put it on the FLOOR!), yank down your pants, and assume " The Stance."

In this position your aging, toneless thigh muscles begin to shake. You'd love to sit down, but you certainly hadn't taken time to wipe the seat or lay toilet paper on it, so you hold "The Stance."

To take your mind off your trembling thighs, you reach for what you discover to be the empty toilet paper dispenser. In your mind, you can hear your mother's voice saying, "Honey, if you had tried to clean the seat, you would have KNOWN there was no toilet paper!" Your thighs shake more.

You remember the tiny tissue that you blew your nose on yesterday - the one that's still in your purse. (Oh yeah, the purse around your neck, that now, you have to hold up trying not to strangle yourself at the same time). That would have to do. You crumple it in the puffiest way possible. It's still smaller than your thumbnail

Someone pushes your door open because the latch doesn't work. The door hits your purse, which is hanging around your neck in front of your chest, and you and your purse topple backward against the tank of the toilet. "Occupied!" you scream, as you reach for the door, dropping your precious, ti ny, crumpled tissue in a puddle on the floor, lose your footing altogether, and slide down directly onto the TOILET SEAT. It is wet of course. You bolt up, knowing all too well that it's too late. Your bare bottom has made con tact with every imaginable germ and life form on the uncovered seat because YOU never laid down toilet paper - not that there was any, even if you had taken time to try. You know that your mother would be utterly appalled if she knew, because, you're ce rtain her bare bottom never touched a public toilet seat because, frankly, dear, "You just don't KNOW what kind of diseases you could get."

By this time, the automatic sensor on the back of the toilet is so confused that it flushes, propelling a stream of water like a fire hose against the inside of the bowl that sprays a fine mist of water that covers your butt and runs down your legs and into your shoes. The flush somehow sucks everything down with such force that you grab onto the empty toilet paper dispenser for fear of being dragged in too.

At this point, you give up. You're soaked by the spewing water and the wet toilet seat. You're exhausted. You try to wipe with a gum wrapper you found in your pocket and then slink out inconspicuously to the sinks.

You can't figure out how to operate the faucets with the automatic sensors, so you wipe your hands with spit and a dry paper towel and walk past the line of women still waiting.

You are no longer able to smile politely to them. A kind soul at the very end of the line points out a piece of toilet paper trailing fro m your shoe. (Where was that when you NEEDED it??) You yank the paper from your shoe, plunk it in the woman's hand and tell her warmly, "Here, you just might need this."

As you exit, you spot your hubby, who has long since entered, used, and left the men's restroom. Annoyed, he asks, "What took you so long, and why is your purse hanging around your neck?"

This is dedicated to women everywhere who deal with a public restrooms (rest??? you've GOT to be kidding!!). It finally explains to the men what really does take us so long. It also answers their other commonly asked questions about why women go to the restroom in pairs. It's so the other gal can hold the door, hang onto your purse and hand you Kleenex under the door!

I haven't laughed this hard since....

I discovered The Sneeze. While link- clicking on random blogs I found Cake Wrecks and I just have to share it with you. The author of Cake Wrecks also reminded me of this blog which I found long ago and had forgotten. Get ready for the hilarity!

Hey Ms. Morecraft Get your Submission off My Politics!

McCain's recent choice of Sarah Palin has booted him forward solidly into the heart of Americans. Sure, there are many who disagree with her politics or are scratching their heads over her lack of credentials but when push comes to shove I think what we Americans want is somebody we can trust and McCain, in a stroke of pure genius, pulled this energetic mother of five from an almost mythical land seemingly out of the proverbial magic hat. If nothing else, the Republican ticket now has our Attention.

On one of my many yahoo groups, somebody posted this today. It didn't take far into this missive to get my hackles up. This is exactly the sort of poor guilt-mongering exegesis that I was able to wipe cleanly off my feet on the way out the door of the ICCEC. Honestly, by the time we walked out of the CEC for good I felt if I ever heard the word submission again I would run screaming to the nearest bar. Until, that is, I read this article by Frederica Mathewes-Green and began to get a proper, Orthodox perspective of the scriptures with which I'd been beaten over the soul for the previous ten years. Anastasia's post on Orthodox priesthood also helped me realize that the suppositions about submission upon which I had based my supposedly Christian response to the men in my life were all out of whack.

I am solidly grooving with those critics of Sarah Palin who wonder how in the world is she going to get it all done and still be The Mom. I am all in favor of Mom-dom as a woman's first priority. However, who the heck am I to judge this one?! There are many who look at me and wonder how I get it all done - many, I'm sure, who come to the conclusion that I must be neglecting someone along the way. If God has gifted Sarah Palin for this position then so be it. I am not one to throw scriptures at her out of context and outside of church tradition. Perhaps we will be seeing a lot of media footage of our Vice President shuttling from place to place with a 5 year old son in tow. Who's to say she can't take her kids to work? I don't know how she's gonna do it and of course the jury isn't out yet as to who our next president will be so it may all be simply idle speculation. But for me this election isn't about the Issues (although there are several issues that are near and dear to my heart), it's about putting into office the sort of human being who will honor God in all of his/her decisions. Now, that is the heart of the matter and what I've read of Sarah Palin, she's the best thing going....

Artificial Sex

Why not just call it what it is? Then maybe it won't sound so great. The joke used to be, "Well, I have 2 siblings so my folks only had sex 3 times, right?" Welcome to the 21st century folks! Now we can have all the kids we want with no sex and all the sex we want with no kids...more on this later, it's one of my favorite soapboxes (I'll give you a hint - it has everything to do with the three words "what we want").

Who *is* this kid?!

I've been writing about our struggles with Philip and Ruth and thought it was time to sound off our latest great success. JT is our eldest son (younger than only Miriam who is much younger developmentally) and he came to us at 2 months of age. He was a ball of frenetic energy even at that young age - bouncing up and down, up and down, up and down...for the next 11 years. By the time he was 4 or so we were at wit's end with his energy level and mood swings and that's when we discovered the Feingold program. That helped him for years - particularly the removal of corn syrup and high fructose corn syrup from his diet. As he got a bit older we found that even a small amount of corn syrup would cause screaming, raging fits. He would beat himself on the head, scream, foam at the mouth and tell us over and over again that we should just kill him now. It was bad. Very bad.

It evened out for a time and then grew worse again. About 3 years ago we started discussing meds and finally went that route in addition to following the Feingold program strictly. He eventually worked his way up to 100mg of Strattera a day - a liberal adult dosage for a 9 year old. The Strattera helped tremendously but we found that it was a delicate balance. If he went without it for even a couple of hours his old behaviors and moods would return.

JT's pediatrician was willing to prescribe the medication but urged us to find a good counselor as well. It took about a year of calling around, hemming, hawing and then finally deciding we just can't live on pins and needles anymore before we bit the bullet and traveled 40 minutes away to a fantastic (but pricey) counselor. For about a year and a half the counselor worked with JT - and with us - to get him to feel like part of the family, to get in touch with the fact that he was detached, lonely and angry. Early on JT was diagnosed with Reactive Attachment Disorder (in his case caused by an emotionally distant birthmother during pregnancy). His moods would get better and then worse...some days much worse. One day I went into his bedroom to find him sitting on his bed with a rope around his neck. After that, any time he got angry and stormed off I fretted about going to look for him, afraid of what I would find. Somehow, even through all of his trials and the many, many battles, JT has had my heart tightly strapped to his. I have never had to struggle to love him or show him my love and his behavior was slowly killing both of us.

But day by day JT has been emerging from the chaos within him. Changing churches was an important first step. Then this past summer he saw a dream realized. He has always wanted to play travel soccer but was never permitted to because of Tad's ministry schedule. With the family schedule freed up quite a bit he was allowed to try out for the team - but didn't make it. He was invited by the coach to come to a practice after which he was asked to practice regularly with the team and play with the team as a guest. He didn't have his dream handed to him. He's had to work his butt off to get there. Every practice he has to go out there and prove that he can be a member of the team. And it's been the best thing for him ever. Now he's on the soccer field 6 or 7 days a week and keeping his eye on his goal of becoming a professional ball player.

With the help of his counselor he's been able to realize that he is an important part of the family and he does belong here. He's been willing to let his parents be in charge of his life. He's learned to trust, to open up and to relax. Two and a half weeks ago he took his last dose of medication. He's been without it ever since. Every day he is able to try new foods, moving into the second stage of the Feingold program which most kids reach after just 6 weeks - he is now reaching after 8 years.

And the beauty of it is that even with all of these helps lifting he is doing better than ever. I don't know how many times the past few days I've asked myself, "Who *is* this kid?!" Yesterday he played basketball with me and his sibs - all of us against him and he won 10-8. But, more importantly, he *enjoyed* the game. I've noticed him pulling his younger brothers into his lap and playing with them or just snuggling. He was on John Michael's soccer field last week trying to coach him from the sidelines. Even Betsy and Miriam have been the recipients of his recent beneficence. It's funny sometimes to watch. He really wants to engage with his siblings now but he's never really done it before without all the venom and fear so his attempts are awkward and sometimes strange but oh so wonderful for this momma's heart! He's even begun to thank me for little things I do for him - unprompted! He's smiling a lot more and trying to maintain eye contact when he talks with others. Situations which at one point would have caused a week's worth of angst he now blows off quickly and is able to move on. Every morning I pray for my children...Lord have mercy on JT....and lately I've simply been thanking God for his mercy, for if this isn't His mercy on JT then I don't know mercy looks like. God, in His great mercy (for He is good and loves mankind!) has seen fit to watch over JT and heal his deeply troubled heart. Miracles do still happen, folks!

For He is good and loves mankind...

I just noticed last night how many times this phrase turns up in Orthodox prayers. Do you think the church fathers are trying to tell us something?!