Veterans Day....Every Day

I didn't post this on Veteran's Day for a specific reason. I don't believe that just one day a year should be the only time we think about these brave men and women...and honor them. I think that every time we see "our" nations flag flying....we need to remember that without them...this flag...which represents our freedom may not be flying. Every time we verbaly chastise someone in office, speak our mind about a law, or protest for a cause....we need to remember that without them....these things might not be our right to do. Everytime we step outside our homes, drive to work, and come home to our families....we need to remember that without them....these things which have become a way of life without a second thought could all be gone. So I say to you who have done so much, for so many without asking for or receiving much in return....thank you. Thank you for putting your lives on the line so that my life and the lives of my children are safe. Thank you for realizing that freedom isn't free and that some things are not only worth fighting for....but in some cases....also worth dying for. Thank you for doing an unacceptable job, in unacceptable conditions....knowing that some will use the very freedom you are fighting for to disparage both you and this country....and never miss a beat. Most of all...thank you for helping to give my children and I a place to call home that is free from fear and terror.....while you suffered both to give us that. So no....yesterday alone should not be the only day we honor these brave individuals who put our lives before their own. In my humble opinion....each and every day should be Veteran's Day.

Cmom©2007 all rights reserved.

Erma Bombeck.....My Hero

I was going through some books the other day....when I happened upon a book by one of my all time favorite authors.....Erma Bombeck. I sat and read a few pages and found myself once again getting lost in the life of one of America's original domestic godesses. I always thought of her as a cross somewhere between my mother and my aunt. Her antics, her thoughts, and her views on children are what I experienced at both home and every family reunion I ever attended. In fact....at one time....Erma was my all time hero. Anyone who had the ability to turn the everyday and mundane into humorous fodder for the masses deserved some kind of an award in my book. For years she was my inspiration and I wrote frantically hoping to be the Bombeck of my generation. Unfortunately though....life happened and my writing fell so far to the back burner.....that it was hardly recognizable. One day...a few years back....I dusted off my pen and paper and thought I would write to my idol and let her know what an influence she had been on my life. For someone who always found something to say about everything....I suddenly found myself without words. How do you tell someone they are an inspiration to you? How do you tell them that whenever you were sad you picked up their books and they helped you find the joy again? How does a 30 something woman say....."Erma Bombeck....I want to be just like you when I grow up?" Saddly....when the words finally came...it was too late. Erma Bombeck had died....and with her death....came the reality that this woman was a one of a kind. Never again would the world truly see that The Grass is Always Greener Over the Septic Tank or fully understand just how much she really lost ....in the Post Natal Depression. I felt the need to tell her family just what this woman had meant to me.....so I sent this note.


Dear Bombeck Family:

You have my deepest sypmapthy and sincerest consolensces on the loss of Mrs. Bombeck. I know that you have all lost a wife and mother.....but I just wanted you to know......I lost a hero.

Sincerely......

So with all this being said...I thought I would share some of my all time favorite Erma Bombeck quotes:

Cmom©2006 all rights reserved.

Spend at least one Mother's Day with your respective mothers before you decide on marriage. If a man gives his mother a gift certificate for a flu shot, dump him.

My kids always perceived the bathroom as a place where you wait it out until all the groceries are unloaded from the car.

Making coffee has become the great compromise of the decade. It's the only thing "real" men do that doesn't seem to threaten their masculinity. To women, it's on the same domestic entry level as putting the spring back into the toilet-tissue holder or taking a chicken out of the freezer to thaw.

I don't know why no one ever thought to paste a label on the toilet-tissue spindle giving 1-2-3 directions for replacing the tissue on it. Then everyone in the house would know what Mama knows.

How come anything you buy will go on sale next week?

I have never gone to the bathroom in my life that a small voice on the other side of the door hasn't whined, "Are you saving the bananas for anything?"

Some say our national pastime is baseball. Not me. It's gossip.

Graduation day is tough for adults. They go to the ceremony as parents. They come home as contemporaries. After twenty-two years of child-rearing, they are unemployed.

Marriage has no guarantees. If that's what you're looking for, go live with a car battery.

There is nothing more miserable in the world than to arrive in paradise and look like your passport photo.

Youngsters of the age of two and three are endowed with extraordinary strength. They can lift a dog twice their own weight and dump him into the bathtub.

Kids have little computer bodies with disks that store information. They remember who had to do the dishes the last time you had spaghetti, who lost the knob off the Tv set six years ago, who got punished for teasing the dog when he wasn't teasing the dog and who had to wear girls boots the last time it snowed.

Who, in their infinite wisdom, decreed that Little League uniforms be white? Certainly not a mother.

People shop for a bathing suit with more care than they do a husband or wife. The rules are the same. Look for something you'll feel comfortable wearing. Allow for room to grow.

No self-respecting mother would run out of intimidations on the eve of a major holiday.

On vacations: We hit the sunny beaches where we occupy ourselves keeping the sun off our skin, the saltwater off our bodies and the sand out of our belongings.

Mother's words of wisdom: "Answer me! Don't talk with food in your mouth!"

All of us have moments in our lives that test our courage. Taking children into a house with white carpet is one of them.

Most children's first words are "Mama" or "Daddy." Mine were, "Do I have to use my own money?"

Sometimes I can't figure designers out. It's as if they flunked human anatomy.

My theory on housework is, if the item doesn't multiply, smell, catch on fire or block the refrigerator door, let it be. No one cares. Why should you?

Before you try to keep up with the Joneses, be sure they're not trying to keep up with you.

Have you any idea how many children it takes to turn off one light in the kitchen? Three. It takes one to say, "What light?" and two more to say, "I didn't turn it on."

Onion rings in the car cushions do not improve with time.

Everyone is guilty at one time or another of throwing out questions that beg to be ignored, but mothers seem to have a market on the supply. "Do you want a spanking or do you want to go to bed?" Don't you want to save some of the pizza for your brother?" Wasn't there any change?"

The age of your children is a key factor in how quickly you a re served in a restaurant. We once had a waiter in Canada who said, "Could I get you your check?" and we answered, "How about the menu first?"

When your mother asks, "Do you want a piece of advice?" it's a mere formality. It doesn't matter if you answer yes or no. You're going to get it anyway.

No one ever died from sleeping in an unmade bed. I have known mothers who remake the bed after their children do it because there's a wrinkle in the spread or the blanket is on crooked. This is sick.

When mothers talk about the depression of the empty nest, they're not mourning the passing of all those wet towels on the floor, or the music that numbs your teeth, or even the bottle of capless shampoo dribbling down the shower drain. They're upset because they've gone from supervisor of a child's life to a spectator. It's like being the vice president of the United States.

Poetry Anyone???

I have the heart of a lion but the soul of a poet. Words mean a great deal to me and making them mean something to others too....is one of the best parts of my life.



I KNEW I WAS LOST………

I knew I was lost…
when I was forty, sitting in my high school algebra class.
I knew I was lost…
when I was at an important meeting,wearing only my underwear under my coat.
I knew I was lost…
when I was twelve again and my mother was alive and brushing away my tears.
I knew I was lost…
when I reached across my pillow
And touched my husbands beautiful, sleeping face.
I knew I was lost…
when I woke up…
And it had all been but a dream.

Cmom©2006 all rights reserved.

TO DO LIST

I let the dog out,
I let the dog in
I dropped off the laundry
By the way,
here’s your pin.
I went to the store
They were out of your brand
I went to the school
Your son’s failing band
I sent in our taxes
I hope they were right
Oh…and I’m having an affair
Don’t expect me tonight.

Cmom©2006 all rights reserved.

PAPERTRAIL

Shows promise and ability to excel...
Said the faded piece of paper
A report card dated 1978.
Good worker, gets along well with others, goes above and beyond.
Yet another faded piece of paper proclaimed.
Job evaluation dated 1995.
Cause of death…heroin.
Final piece of paper stated.
Coroners report dated 2004.
The paper trail of my sister’s life.

Cmom©2006 all rights reserved.

LIPSTICK

He asked for my lipstick
straight faced as a judge,
while applying my own
his words made me smudge.
“Any special color”, I asked,
cautiously hiding a smile.
“Cherry red’, he countered
Or possibly ‘Berry be guile’
It goes with my heels,
And won’t clash with my skirt.
Nothing too bold,
I won’t be labeled a flirt.”
“Your heels, your skirt?
Are you joking”, I asked.
“Oh no not at all,
I’m just becoming unmasked.
I’m a man in a cage
With two kids and a wife.
I’m living in hell
Yes this is my life.
I have to break out
Be who I am.
Your lipstick will help
Make it ‘Very Cherry von Dam”.
“You are crazy”, I muttered,
And gave him the gloss.
What could I say…
I mean he is my boss?

Cmom©2006 all rights reserved.

GARDEN OF PAIN

The rose gardens’ smell
intoxicates and fills the senses
And the beauty is beyond words.
He talks to me and I to him.
We share our thoughts our feelings
For a moment we are family,
Just Dad and I.
I fall under the spell and let my guard down.
The shoes come off,
And I take the first steps into the garden.
I become entranced by the beauty of the moment.
I breathe deeply and sigh gently.
It is a world like no other.
Suddenly though, reality takes over.
Step…“You are worthless.”
“Ouch,” the blood begins to ooze.
Step…”You will never accomplish anything.”
“Ouch,” the pain begins to grow.
Step…”I don’t know why you were ever born.”
“Ouch,” the wounds go deeper with each step.
The sad reality…..
The moment of beauty is not worth the depth of pain.

Cmom©2006 all rights reserved.

MY ROAD

The straight and narrow
A path well worn
But I chose the other
And faced much scorn
The signs said “Stop”
I moved ahead
The signs said “Slow”
And away I sped.
Everyone said,
“Life is not that hard.
Just follow the rules
And stay on your guard.”
I always laughed
Threw caution away
Rules were just one thing
From which I would stray.
Now looking back
I can certainly see,
The roads I have taken
Often came with a fee.
If given the chance
Would I change the before?
Oh no, not at all,
I wouldn’t be me anymore.

Cmom©2006 all rights reserved.

The Power Over Control

Okay....so I admit that I am just the teensiest bit controlling. Fine....I would control everything from the weather to Jay Leno's monologue if I could, but in my defense.....it is not completely my fault. I come from a long line of control freaks...so I believe that I am genetically inclined to this behavior. It is one of my more "un"lovable qualities and one that believe it or not...I spend a great deal of time working on. Believe me....it takes a lot of time and energy to try and control everything in your hemisphere....and when it comes to having the last word.....you just know that is gonna be something I have to have. As much havic as this little flaw imparts on my personal life.....it is nothing compared to what it has done to my spiritual life.

"Let go and let God," was my mothers favorite saying. She too loved to control all in her kingdom....but somewhere along the way, she learned that somethings are completely out of our human control....and more importantly....you simply can't control God. I too am fighting to learn these lessons. I am finding that the older I get....the less control over anything I really have....(although I am still quite good at demanding the last word), but in all things that really count....the only true control I have is the control God allows me.

My spiritual education about just how little control over things in my life that I really had....began with the premature birth of my youngest son. As he lay between life and death day after day...I realized that I had zero control over whether he would live or not. All control was out of my hands....the only one in true control was God.

When I came home to find my husband dead....there was simply nothing that myself or any other human for that matter could do to change this situation. Once again....God was in control....and I was a control freak....with absolutely no control.

Finally.....I think the realization of how little control I really have in this world came to me when my mother was sick. Cancer turned my mother from someone who had to control every situation.....to someone who could easily...."Let go and let God." She became a true child of God.....happily turning her illness, her life, and her heart over to Him....and willingly accepting His will for her....not the other way around. For me....it was another spiritual life lesson that once again brought home the fact that....there was absolutely nothing about the situation that I could control.

I think it was just a short time after my mothers death....when I was feeling very "out of control" about life in general....that I began searching for something that would return my world (and control) back to me. I spent some time doing some major soul searching and looking for an answer(s) that I may have overlooked. Finally...after much searching and even more praying.....one day in a quiet one on with God it came to me. In all these situations where I had felt so totally devoid of control....I had something much more important. I had power. I always had the power right there at my fingertips....I had the power to pray. I had the power to let go of all that was out of my control....and like a child....let God handle it all. (Thus my mothers lesson in learning to be a "true" child of God.) I think it was then that I realized that where control does nothing more than fill your life.....power actually fills your soul....and when you have power....then you really don't need control.

If I am completely honest....control still tries to rear its ugly head in my life on a daily basis.....especially when my son goes without a belt and I can see his underwear, when it rains on my picnic....or when Leno isn't funny, but I have also learned that I have the power to ignore my sons fashion choices, to bring my picnic inside, and to turn off the television....and more importantly I have learned that I have the power through prayer....to turn it all over to God. Don't get me wrong....I still have the "last word" issue....but I am merely a work in progress....so for now.....we will be satisfied with baby steps.

Cmom©2007 all rights reserved

Lets Get This Party Started

Here is a little about me:

I am conservative by birth...and pro-life by "choice." I am a work in progress who is progressively working...to be a better me, and finally...I believe that not speaking out about something is the same as condoning it...so I find myself speaking out...quite often.

Cmom©2007 all rights reserved