The Official George W. Bush Presidential Librarium

The Official George W. Bush Presidential Librarium

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Family Fun Friday

I've been meaning to post these pictures for awhile now. It's a darn shame just how late some of them are, but better late than never, right?

I mentioned in an earlier post that we traveled to the Gulf Coast for my birthday in March. We had an awesome time. Just me and my boys.

View from the Condo

Friend, My Heart and Soul and Favorite Nephew (shhh, don't tell my other nephews!)














In April, I escorted my boys to the Space Museum and Rocket Center in Huntsville, AL. The boys had their first experience on a rock climbing wall. Here they are receiving their instructions. Both of them told me how scared they were, but they climbed that wall like they were born to it. I thought I had videotaped the experience, but a funny thing happens when you don't hit the 'record' button. . . NOTHING!! ABSOLUTELY NOTHING!










In June, the Cub Scouts had an outing at a local nature center where we discoved all kinds of fun things including insects, snakes, geese and poisonous plants. The mama's response was "ewwww" but the boys LOVED it!







And finally, my child tells me that this story is not complete without showing the other members of our family. Meet Chuckie and Lillian!

The wisdom to know the difference. . .

I was molested as a child. Repeatedly. Over the course of many years.

For the longest time, I never spoke a word of it; believing that somehow there was something wrong with me that caused that individual to target me and that I was responsible for his actions because I never told.

That's a heavy burden for a 4 year old.

For the longest time, I never fully realized that, even after I was moved out of his grasp and eventually grew into adulthood, I remained that terrified, abused little girl. I continued to allow his abuse and control to reign over me, at least figuratively.

Two recent events brought this piece of my personal history back to me. I ran into a former lover about 6 months ago. He was someone who knew me before I fully understood that I still carried significant baggage from my childhood and before I recognized the significant impact it had on my romantic and sexual relationships. This individual made the unfortunate mistake of forcing himself on me sexually. Even though we had been intimate for over a year at that time, the idea of him taking the choice of consent away from me destroyed me and our relationship. I thought I was madly in love with this person, but in the middle of an argument he was not able to win, he chose to control and master me with sex.

Big mistake.

We had an opportunity to discuss that earlier this year and even after all this time, he still didn't "get it"; he didn't understand how "one little mistake" could end our relationship. He couldn't understand how I could not stand to look at him, much less have him to touch me in anyway. I was literally nauseous whenever I heard his voice.

Well, unfortunately for him, at this point, I no longer cared to go through the motions of trying to explain it to him. I didn't share with him, but was both pleased and curious to discover about myself, was that, it and he, no longer had the emotional impact they once did. My lack of interest was due to both my own growth, as well as to my realization of what a selfish, self-centered pig he was then and now. I chose him because I didn't think I deserved better.

But, THANK GOD, I finally got a clue, I understood. I experienced an epiphany that showed me the extent to which I had allowed my abuser to control me, long after he had lost physical control. For years, he controlled my thoughts, my emotions, my choices, my fears. . .

For the longest time I was unable to sleep on my back and I couldn't sleep without being covered up, from head to toe, in sometimes 2-3 blankets, even in the middle of a southern summer. I had done this since I was a kid. Indeed, my family joked about it all the time; of course, they had no idea of it's significance. And for the longest time, neither did I. But until then, I experienced significant anxiety without the weight of the blankets and if for some reason, I didn't have access to the blankets I needed, I knew I would be in for a long, anxious-filled night.

I was well into my 30's before I figured it out. My perpetrator would come into my bedroom at night and pull the covers off me in order to gain the access he wanted. My 4-yr old mind decided that if I were covered up, he wouldn't be able to get to me or if not, I would least have some warning of his intent. Of course, it didn't work, but that didn't stop my innocent logic and the efforts I made to try to protect myself from him.

As soon as I put this together, my need to be buried under the covers ended. I could finally tell that 4 year old child that she no longer had anything to fear. This was the beginning of my recovery. I'm not fearful of the dark anymore. I don't remember his name. I can no longer remember his smell that haunted me for years. I no longer feel the murderous rage that had me considering to take his life at one time. And I make much better choices in lovers .

I am communicating with the love of my life again. I have loved this man since Jan 21, 1993, when he smiled at me across a banquet table in a room full of people where I used to swear there was no one there but the two of us. Unfortunately, we were on dates with other people that night; he didn't approach me then, but later, he nagged several of our friends to death in order to get my phone number. Within a couple months, we were in love, living together and engaged to marry.

I've often thought about what went wrong with us. Over the years, people who know have asked that same question, usually in disbelief when I tell them we broke up. We just fit. And while I can throw immaturity and several other things in the mix to explain, I know a large part of it was due to the fact that I could never really believe that he truly loved me. Somehow I just KNEW he would betray our love and the life we were building together. I never could fully understand what he saw in me. To me, he was an angel sent straight from heaven! So, why would he want me?

Anyway, y'all already know how that story ended.

Over the years, we have been in and out of each other's lives. We come in and then one of us does something to hurt the other and then we're out again. I'm no martyr, my angel, while perfect for me, is far from perfect. But I do recognize how my trust issues played a major role in keeping us apart.

So, this was the second event that had me thinking about my past history of abuse and to recognize that my history no longer dictates my present and future. I contacted him again a couple months ago. I was not sure of my reception, but what I finally accepted, without a doubt, was that I loved him and that, at least at one time, he truly loved me. As we've been talking and taking baby steps towards each other again, I'm amazed at my growth and healing. I found a journal I was keeping at the time, and reading it now makes me want to cry for that pain-filled, insecure woman. I know that he was never intentionally tried to hurt me, and if anything, after awhile, he was mostly trying to prevent me from hurting him.

We're not dating, and I have no real agenda about where we may or may not end up. I want the opportunity to heal the damage we both caused; I want my friend back. I want to get to know him again, without the filter of abuse and damaged self esteem hovering between us. I need him to be an active part of my life again, even if it develops no further than where we are now. And fortunately for me, for us, he was open to receive my invitation.

I thank God for the healing. I thank God that He opened me up to love, both to give and to receive.

Thank God for the healing.

Update on Hair Biz

Turns out the dress code restricts "trendy" hair styles, defined as braids with beads and no unnatural hair dye. It also calls for boys' hair not to extend below their collars and to be out of their eyes. My son's locs meets this criteria exactly.

I shared that the other teacher(black) stated that his hair would have to be shaved to his head, even though I saw white and Latino boys whose hair was longer. I was speaking to the Asst Principal (non-black) who stated that she was unaware that this was policy, and that as far as she was concerned, his hair should not be a problem. And despite what the "other" teacher said, the only person to make that call was the Principal, who was still on bereavement leave.

It's hard to believe that even now, some of us are still living like crabs in a barrel.

So, I'm not going to stress over this anymore; I am not shaving his head, but I am willing to keep it at it's current length during the school year. If we are admitted into this school, my son will not be taught by the "other" teacher, so hopefully that will cut down on some possible backlash. The administration would have revealed to me an open minded attitude about diversity and all is well in our universe.

However, if the principal calls back and tells me that locs are not acceptable, regardless of length, then I know this is not a place we want to be anyway.

I'll let you know what we decide.

I am not my hair?

Happy Memorial Day everyone! If you know any soldiers, airmen, or squibs, currently serving or ones who served in past conflicts, please, let them know how much we appreciate their sacrifice and dedication to the safety of this country.

I have decided to enroll my son into a regular school in the fall; I've been interviewing private schools. I seriously doubt either of us want to relive the trauma of public school.

Anyway, my son and I met with the staff at a small Catholic school that came highly recommended to us. Not only for their educational standards and small student to teacher ratio, but the success they've had with special needs children.

My son was excited by what he saw, the children seemed friendly and well-behaved. In fact, several students came up to him and started chatting while I met with the 3rd grade teacher. He seriously did not want to leave.

The only glitch came when we met with the 2nd and 3rd grade teachers to discuss their curriculum. The 2nd grade teacher, an older black woman, who, in fact, was the only black faculty that I observed on our tour. She very likely could have taught my parents; she was very proper and conservative. Anyway, after the meet and greet, she turned to my son and said,

"Well, I can tell you first off, that you're going to have to cut his hair. Those. . . braids. . . do not conform to our dress code."

Some of you may know that my son's hair is loc'd. He has a gorgeous head of 3 to 4 inch long baby locs. I should also say that on the day of the interview, I wore my own natural hair in small individual plaits, which could also pass for locs, for the unschooled. My son and I just looked at her. I finally responded that his hair was not in braids, but loc'd and that the style was permanent.

"Well, regardless, we require that our boys hair is close cropped."

At the time, I simply nodded at her in acknowledgment. I considered commenting that I had observed several Caucasian and Latino boys with hair well below their collars, but decided I would reframe. . . for now. So, we continued with the interview. When we got back into the car to head home, the first thing out of my son's mouth was "Mommy, I don't want to cut my hair." I confirmed that I didn't either but it was not a decision that we needed to make now.

Now, I spoke to a friend of mine later, who said, "It's just hair. If you like the school, just cut it. He can grow locs another time." Well, that's true, I suppose, but then I started wondering that if we enrolled at this school, what else would we have to sacrifice in order to fit in? What lessons do I really want my son to learn about conformity?

I am NOT conservative, not in my dress and especially not in my attitudes and beliefs. I am not a conformist; I like being part of the tenth. I encourage free thinking in my son's head. There are some things that I teach that I believe are essential to being a productive citizen, but as long as he stays within those parameters, I encourage him to be whatever he and God designed him to be.

Although my child is only 7, nearly 8, the decision to loc his hair was his. If it had been up to me, I would've chosen for him to wait, at least until he was in his teens because I felt that at this age, he may not be able to handle the probable negative reaction to his hair. And each time I tried to divert him, he was even more insistent that this was what he wanted to do.

So, I plaited his hair one weekend. Mostly as an experiment to see how he would handle public reaction. He came home from school one afternoon and I asked what the response was to his braids. He said that for the most part, people seemed to like it, but mostly there was no reaction. Then he added that he overheard two children talking about his hair to each other. One child said that he thought my son looked like a girl. My child said he went over to them and said, "I'm not a girl, I'm a boy and my hair looks GOOD!"

Aight, so he's more like his mama than I sometimes realize.

Anyway, so this was the beginning of our journey to locs. As his hair has grown and the loc process begun, I think I enjoy his hair as much as he does. I'm using the latch method to tighten his roots, which usually takes about an hour or so to do. So, once or twice a month, I latch his hair and my son and I are talking, bonding, laughing, loving. I mean, we talk all the time, but during this particular time, the level of conversation is deeper. It's a very intimate time and I think we both look forward to those moments.

So, for me, for us, this decision is more than 'just hair'.

Another friend encouraged me to meet with the principal of the school (who was away on a family emergency during our tour) and get a copy of the dress code. Mostly, he said, just to be certain that that teacher wasn't being "niggerish" (I'm sorry if I've offended anyone with this term. If you need some clarification of it's meaning in this context, send me an email and I'll elaborate further.)

So, I plan to meet with the principal later this week. I'm also interviewing other schools, so even if we can't fit in here, there is a place for us.

The Letter

I recently found a letter written to me by my mother. It was dated 2002 and I was living in Florida at the time. I was surprised to see that I had kept it.

You see, letters from my mother are never a good thing. Whereas some people can look forward to written communications from their parents, I can't. Letters from her usually hail nothing but badgering and criticism. It's been more than a minute when I stopped allowing her to talk badly to me either in person or on the phone. I finally figured out the value of an untimely exit and a quick hang up.

Then she learned that when she wanted to say something that she knew I wouldn't listen to, she put it in a letter. And her reasoning was sound, at least in her head. This is a direct quote: "I'm writing you because I want you to hear what I have to say and when I'm finished, it's off my conscience and in yours." Ok, so because she was miserable, she wanted to spread misery to all, particularly her oldest daughter.

This letter was no different than many others I have received over the years. It was full of negativity and emotional punishment. I said I was surprised to find that I had kept it, because, some time ago, I alone was responsible for my peace of mind. Therefore I started to destroy any letters from her, unread, and unopened. But this letter apparently came before that realization.

So, I read it again this week. Despite time and distance, the emotional impact was just as palpable and easily took me back to a place of self doubt and self-destruction. She was angry that I made a decision without consulting her. (Mind you, I was well and truly into my adulthood in 2002). And so every line in this 4-page 8 1/2 by 11 inch ruled paper was filled with hate and venom. I have never understood what I had ever done to her to generate this emotion. I am her first born child and by many standards, am fairly successful. I've never been to jail, never used drugs, never stolen or deliberately hurt anyone. I'm mild mannered until you piss me off. And even then, I've never cursed or abused her; I take to heart the bible reference to honor thy mother and thy father.

But despite all this, I would swear that at times, that woman HATED me. I internalized that hate and for the longest time, despite external success, I despised myself and felt that I had done nothing to earn either my mother or God's favor.

I can look back now and see how this internalized hatred lead me into all kinds of bad relationships and other stupid decisions, mostly because I didn't think that I deserved better.

Anyway, I have not spoken to my mother in nearly three years despite the fact that we now live in the same city. She contacted me this past Christmas and I had a brief hope that perhaps the time apart may have led to a meeting of the mind, so to speak. However, the note she sent me was again filled with venom.

My sister and brother keep telling me that I'm wrong in not talking to her. You know how black folk are about their mamas. My brother even had the nerve to chastise me for not calling her Mother's Day. I did think about it, and then opted against it when I compared the relative peace in my life currently against the strife I knew I would feel if I heard her voice again. I also considered that maybe God would not be pleased with my separation from her, memba' "Honor thy father and mother"? But if you read a little further down in that same passage of scripture, it also says, "Parents, do not provoke your children to wrath."

I can't be the person God has called me to be when I allow my mother into my intimate space. The problem is hers, not mine and she has got to find peace for herself. I finally accepted that I would never be able to do ANYTHING that will make her happy, until she finds that joy within.

Finding this letter was timely because recently I haven't been able to write. I finally tuned in to my internal dialogue and heard lots of 'what ifs'. What if my writing is not as good as others? What if I never get published? What if people discover that I'm not as good as they think I am?

And then, the kicker for me was when I heard these words in my own head, "why are you trying to write this thing anyway? You always think you're better than everyone else or you think you should have more than everyone else."

Here's another quote from the letter: "When you get so high you are above your own people, you are too high and is subject to failure."

I'm glad I found this letter this week. I returned to my manuscript and started writing again. I was overwhelmed by my sheer pleasure of the creative process. I couldn't believe how much I had missed Ima, Micah, David and the others. They apparently missed me too because they have had much to say in the past few days.

I know exactly why I kept that letter.

I knew I would need the reminder.

Mother's Day

What makes a mother?

This question holds more significance for me now that I am a mother; and a single mother to boot.

I remember the first Mother's Day after my son came home. Mothers at our church were asked to stand so that the congregation could honor them. I stood up but I still remember even now how awkward it was for me. I almost felt like a fraud, that somehow I had not yet earned the title "Mother" even though my son had been in my heart, at that point, for over 3 years.

I knew even then that there was more to being a mother than having a legal document with your name on it or even giving birth. Take for example, the woman who actually gave birth to my child, or heck, my own mother. A mother does not necessarily have to be one who shares a bloodline either. I have been blessed to have two mothers, neither of which is directly related to me.

A mother is someone who has the ability to experience and provide unconditional love and acceptance. She accepts that many sacrifices will be made over the course of her child's lifetime and she gladly makes them. She looks at her child through the eyes of love through tantrums, disobedience, sickness, puke and diarrhea.

She absorbs the pain of skinned knees, shots at the doctor's office, first fight . . . first heartbreak. Her heart breaks with every swing of the switch and lifts with every sloppy wet kiss or simple grin. She rejoices when her child takes his first step, the first day of school, the first job.

Hers is the smile we look for the first thing in the morning and the end of long stressful days. We sleep the sleep of angels because we know that a mother is standing by, looking over us, protecting us as we sleep.

So, this Mother's Day, I celebrate because I never knew it was possible to love anyone the way that I love my son. I celebrate because I love being a mother and because I had never thought it possible that someone so small could make me so happy or feel so important. Or more satisfied.

Happy Mother's Day!!

Random Ramblings

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Resurrection

Wow. I just realized that it's been more than a month since my last post. Things got a little bit worse for me, emotionally, and I realized that I seriously needed to just STOP. So, I stepped back from EVERYTHING for awhile and spent some serious "me" time, trying to sort through some unresolved issues and regaining my sense of self.

Sometimes, I think I seriously buy into the theory that I am Superwoman. And while I think I am a "super" woman, I don't have any super powers and I need to recognize that from time to time.

So, I stopped. No blogging, writing, exercising, or socializing. I stopped trying to solve my family and friend's problems and struggles and focused all of my attention on mine. This was probably the hardest part of my break, because the people in my world are used to me being open to them anytime, any place. But, dag, y'all, my plate was FULL! And I didn't have anyone to empty my load on. So, a few feelings have been hurt.

I narrowed my focus down to my child and my job. The phones were disconnected and the inbox in my email got larger and larger. I got my cry on, a lot. . . often. . .multiple occasions. . . as often as it took for me to fully release. To some, this might seem extreme, and it probably is, but for me, it was just the thing I needed to regain control over my emotions and thoughts and regain my connection to God, and subsequently, peace.

I celebrated my birthday in March on the Gulf coast with my "boys", walking up and down the beach, collecting shells and allowing myself to be pampered and fussed over. We recently traveled again to Huntsville AL to the NASA Space Museum, with my son's Cub Scout troop. Now, one could ask how traveling with a group of 7-10 years old be relaxing, but kids this age are just so much fun to me. Listening to their excited chatter and joy in just being, was like manna from heaven and a balm to my soul.

I have missed my blog buddies and I'll probably spend the next couple days catching up on everything I've missed. I pray that all have been well with you and despite my absence, you were never far from my thoughts.

Writing Challenge update

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Lent Update

I feel like I've been out of touch for awhile, even though I continue to post my writing updates two to three times per week.

I continue to experience anxiety attacks and no one is more surprised by this than me. The consensus is that this is a result of accumulated stress from the fall and now that I am clear of the worst of it, my subconscious worries are making themselves conscious.

Well, whatever it is, it SUCKS!! Mostly because I never know when one will happen. This makes it so much worse for me cuz I know I am such the control freak. Anyway, as with most things, this too will pass.

In the meantime, work on the novel is progressing swimmingly. I'm just at 30,000 word count and the murky middle doesn't feel quite so murky anymore. Each day, it becomes a little bit clearer how I will work Ima, Micah and David out of their latest disaster.

The other part of my Lenten resolution was daily exercise. I am proud to admit that I have worked out 5-6 days since I started.

A friend of mine recommended the P90X program (yes, the one on the Infomercial) with trainer Tony Horton. That is an intense workout, designed for folk already in reasonable shape. These are the results my friend had after 90 days with P90X.

I've been living a couch potato lifestyle for a minute, so I figured this program would be more than I could handle right now. Instead, I chose the Power 90 program with the same trainer; supposedly, I'm also going to be ultra fine in 90 days. It's less intense than P90X, but effective in muscle definition and improved cardio. I cuss Mr Horton out daily, but I am definitely seeing results. I highly recommend this program. I just started my third week and I have lost 7 pounds and 10 inches all around.

So, that is more or less what's going on with me right now. My child is doing GREAT and experiencing a growth spurt. I'm going broke trying to keep him in pants and shoes that fit. Emotionally, he's in a great place. Now, just a typically hard headed 7 year old boy!!

Anyway, I'm back to editing. Have a great weekend!!

Writing Challenge update

Over a thousand words in a minute?? Oh, yeah, that would make me SUPER WRITER!! However, I'm not, I'm just a goofy writer who hit the wrong button at the right time. I believe this word count is for 40 minutes.

Happy Writing!

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No tears

I mentioned in an earlier post that I have self-diagnosed myself with Seasonal Affective Disorder. I have been really please this season because I have worked really hard not to give in to the sadness and withdrawal that typically overtakes me in the dark winter months.

In fact, just two days ago, I was telling a friend "all you gotta do is keep busy and maintain your focus outside of yourself. THAT's the key."

Oh, how wrong I was.

See, I'm a crier. I am a firm believer in the healing properties of a good cry. Don't get me wrong, I'm not running around my office crying every time I can't have my way; didn't say I was a "cry baby", just a crier. I release my stress, anxiety, sadness, anger, frustration, joy, love, whatever emotion, you name it, I typically express it through my tears.

I can't remember the last time I cried. When we were going through the stress at the school, I was mad as hell, but no tears. When struggles came up in my love life, I threw tantrums and cajoled or ignored, but no tears. A co-worker or two have been gently cussed out, but no tears. My mother did her best to ruin our Christmas, I assertively told her to put satan behind her, but no tears.

Monday, I received a call that a close friend, an elderly gentleman in my church passed away Sunday. He wasn't blood family, but he was the sweetest, most genuine person I have met in a long time. I admired his dignity in coping with his illness, his faith in God. I admired the love and dedication he shared with his wife, who was perhaps 20 years his junior. My son also adored him. Anyway, he died at home Sunday afternoon, just the way he wanted.

My response? No tears.

As I type, I can think of multiple other stressors that have emerged over the past 4 or 5 months. Nothing major, but when they accumulate, and here's the key, WITHOUT release, eventually your mind and body will call HALT!

Monday night, mine did.

I woke up about midnite in the middle of an anxiety attack. For those of you who have not experienced this, it was the most frightening thing ever. I've never had one before. I have worked with people who have them, I have read and studied them, but never had the unique *ahem* pleasure myself.

I thought I was having a heart attack. I couldn't catch my breath, I felt a weight pressing down on my chest, my hands were trembling. At one point my left arm was hurting and, well, I started crying then, because I was convinced that I was about to die and that my son would have to find me in the morning and I knew he would not know what to do or how to cope.

I was a mess.

Anyway, at some point I realized that this was anxiety; tried meditation and deep breathing. All the stuff I teach my clients to do in this case. None of it worked. I finally fell into a shallow sleep after taking a Benadryl and a Mojito. (I hope none of my clients ever read this).

I spoke to one of my colleagues when I got to work Tuesday morning and was prescribed (temporarily) something to take the edge off and then was ordered home to do nothing but cry.

I took the meds, but unfortunately, didn't go home or take the time for the cry. Which is how I got myself into this mess to begin with. But I didn't want to scare my son with the kind of crying I needed to do. But he will be away from home for awhile today, so I'll start my *therapy* then.

The funeral is Saturday and we'll go and say our goodbyes. And then I think we're going to take a road trip. The beach may be calling us this weekend. Keep us in your prayers.

Writing Challenge update

This past weekend was very productive. I spent most of the time editing and planning for future chapters. I'm rather surprised at the effort that is going into this process. I mean, I know how the book begins and I've already figured out an explosive ending, right? So, one would think the middle would be relatively simple. NOT.

So, I have, not lowered my expectations, just made them more realistic. I will continue with my Lenten plan to free-write, just so I can get as much done as possible in as timely a manner as I can, but I also need to factor in developing my "road map".

Anyway, I am pleased to announce that I have written over 23,000 words so far; I expect the book will be complete somewhere between 80,000 and 90,000 words. I managed to write three more chapters, however, I did not use the word count program. You can see I've still got quite a ways to go. But after this weekend, my view is much clearer.

Happy Writing!

Writing Challenge update

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Pugilist Update

I arrived to collect my child yesterday and before I could get into the door good, two little fellows about 8 or 9, NOT MY child, met me at the door with a hug. Once I stepped back, I realized that these were the two fellas who'd been fighting with my son for the past couple weeks. You might remember these kids? One involved a black eye and scratches?

Seconds later, my son joined us in a group hug. I finally deciphered from their excited chatter that they had resolved whatever conflict that had been going on between them. They were now best friends, and wanted me to know that they were just "play wrestling" now and no longer fighting.

I gave all three of them a hug and kiss and praised them for making good choices.

Then I thanked God!

I knew that my child needed to learn how to work through these types of problems on his own, that this was only the first in a long line of conflicts he would have to resolve. Without me.

But I wanted God to know how very much I appreciated the happiness and companionship that was exuded by these children. The pride on their faces at handling this without adults was a joy to behold. So what if it took blackeye, a couple fists, and rolls on the floor? They worked it out!

Of course, I'm not so far removed from my childhood that I don't realize that this whole situation could start all over again next week. But for now, I am so happy!!

Writing Challenge update

I didn't free write tonight. Instead I spent two hours or so, writing long hand, trying to work out a plot detail with one of my favorite characters, David. I like to work the details out in advance of actually writing a scene; it just makes the process run more smoothly.

I'm now ready to write this scene for Wednesday's challenge.

Happy writing!!

Writing Challenge update

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Writing Challenge update

This has been a very productive weekend. I am on target with my goal of writing 5 days a week, free hand, free thought, no editing. The weekend was spent editing chapters and working through a couple tricky plot points that had been driving me MAD!! But I finally figured them out, which should make things much easier now during my free writing times.

Happy Writing!!

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President Obama's Budget

10 things you should know about Obama's plan (but probably don't)

The plan:

1. Makes a $634 billion down payment on fixing health care that will go a long way toward paying for a more efficient, more affordable health care system that covers every single American.³
   
2. Reduces taxes for 95% of working Americans. And if your family makes less than $250,000, your taxes won't go up one dime.⁴
   
3. Invests more than $100 billion in clean energy technology, creating millions of green jobs that can never be outsourced.⁵
   
4. Brings our troops home from Iraq on a firm timetable, finally bringing the war to a close—and freeing up almost ten billion dollars a month for domestic priorities.⁶
   
5. Reverses growing income inequality. The plan lets the Bush tax cuts for the wealthiest Americans expire and focuses on strengthening the middle class.⁷
   
6. Closes multi-billion-dollar tax loopholes for big oil companies. ⁸
   
7. Increases grants to help families pay for college—the largest increase ever.⁹
   
   
8. Halves the deficit by 2013. President Obama inherited a legacy of huge deficits and an economy in shambles, but his plan brings the deficit under control as soon as the economy begins to recover.¹⁰
   
9. Dramatically increases funding for the SEC and the CFTC—the agencies that police Wall Street.¹¹
   
10. Tells it straight. For years, budgets have used accounting tricks to hide the real costs of the wars in Iraq and Afghanistan, the Bush tax cuts, and too many other programs. Obama's budget gets rid of the smokescreens and lays out what America's priorities are, what they cost, and how we're going to pay for them.¹²

This is the change we voted for. President Obama has done his part, now we need to do ours.

Thanks for all you do.

–Daniel, Tanya, Peter, Justin and the rest of the team

P.S. Turns out there are way more than 10 amazing things in Obama's budget and we couldn't resist sharing just a few more.

1. Stops unnecessary government subsidies to big banks, health insurance companies and big agribusinesses.^13,14,15
   
   
2. Expands access to early childhood education and improves schools by investing in programs that make sure every child has a qualified, strong teacher.¹⁶
   
3. Negotiates for better prescription drug prices using Medicaid's tremendous bargaining power.¹⁷
   
4. Expands access to family planning for low-income women.¹⁸
   
5. Caps the pollution that causes global warming, and makes polluters pay to support clean energy innovation.¹⁹
   

Sources:

1. "Climate of Change," The New York Times, February 27, 2009
http://www.nytimes.com/2009/02/27/opinion/27krugman.html?em

2. "Obama Calls His Budget Sweeping, Needed Change," The New York Times, February 28, 2009
http://www.moveon.org/r?r=51201&id=15687-12460663-ro93sBx&t=2

3. "Obama Offers Broad Plan to Revamp Health Care," The New York Times, February 26, 2009
http://www.moveon.org/r?r=51202&id=15687-12460663-ro93sBx&t=3

4. "Obama Expects Fight Over $3.55 Trillion Budget Plan," Bloomberg News, February 28, 2009
http://www.moveon.org/r?r=51203&id=15687-12460663-ro93sBx&t=4

5. "Energy Budget Is Sunlight After Eight Years of Darkness," Center for American Progress, February 26, 2009
http://www.moveon.org/r?r=51204&id=15687-12460663-ro93sBx&t=5

6. "The Economic Cost of War in Iraq and Afghanistan," The New York Times, March 1, 2009
http://www.nytimes.com/2009/03/01/weekinreview/01glanz.html

7. "Tax Cuts," The New York Times, February 26, 2009
http://www.nytimes.com/2009/02/27/washington/27web-tax.html

8. "Energy Budget Is Sunlight After Eight Years of Darkness," Center for American Progress, February 26, 2009
http://www.moveon.org/r?r=51204&id=15687-12460663-ro93sBx&t=6

9. "Student Loans," The New York Times, February 26, 2009
http://www.nytimes.com/2009/02/27/washington/27web-edu.html

10. "Obama unveils budget blueprint," CNN, February 26, 2009
http://www.cnn.com/2009/POLITICS/02/26/budget/

11. "Obama budget would boost SEC, CFTC, FBI," Reuters, February 26, 2009
http://www.moveon.org/r?r=51205&id=15687-12460663-ro93sBx&t=7

12. "Obama's budget," Los Angeles Times, February 27, 2009
http://www.moveon.org/r?r=51206&id=15687-12460663-ro93sBx&t=8

13. "Student Loans," The New York Times, February 26, 2009
http://www.nytimes.com/2009/02/27/washington/27web-edu.html

14. "Health Insurance Stocks Dive on Medicare Advantage Cuts," The Wall Street Journal, February 26, 2009
http://www.moveon.org/r?r=51207&id=15687-12460663-ro93sBx&t=9

15. "Agriculture," The New York Times, February 26, 2009
http://www.nytimes.com/2009/02/27/washington/27web-agri.html

16. "Investing Wisely in Our Children," Center for American Progress, February 26, 2009
http://www.moveon.org/r?r=51208&id=15687-12460663-ro93sBx&t=10

17. "Obama Offers Broad Plan to Revamp Health Care," The New York Times, February 26, 2009
http://www.moveon.org/r?r=51202&id=15687-12460663-ro93sBx&t=11

18. "Obama Offers Broad Plan to Revamp Health Care," The New York Times, February 26, 2009
http://www.moveon.org/r?r=51202&id=15687-12460663-ro93sBx&t=12

19. "Setting 'Green' Goals," The New York Times, February 26, 2009
http://www.moveon.org/r?r=51209&id=15687-12460663-ro93sBx&t=13

My child, the pugilist

Ok, I gotta admit, that this was kinda how I was feeling yesterday. I went to collect my child from his daycare yesterday afternoon and was pulled aside by the director/owner.

"We have a problem."

Before I asked her to continue, I looked over at my child, who was staring at me in defiance, with his lip poked out, almost daring me to contradict him.

Hmmmm.

Anyway, for the last couple days, I was told, my child has been physically fighting with another child, a little 8 year old boy. Right in the middle of the director's story, my child interrupted, crying and screamed,

"He was talking about me, saying things to hurt my feelings, I don't like kids to hurt my feelings. And he called you ugly; you're not ugly. I wasn't gonna let him punk me out."

You may recall the conversation we had a couple months on this topic and the advice I gave to him? Well, here it is, biting me in the butt.

So, the short of the story is that everyone agreed that the other child had been provoking my heart and soul. The first time it happened, he and the boy started fighting, the adults broke it up put them both in time out and that was the end of it; they didn't even tell me about it. But since then, whenever my heart and soul gets within striking distance of this kid, he would say something smart or hit the boy. Over and over again.

Oh, and I didn't mention that two weeks ago, he came home with his first black eye. He was proud of it, by the way, as he described what the other kid looked like in comparison with his own "just a scratch, mommy!" Again, he responded appropriately, according to the director, and though I didn't like it, I didn't really address it with him. Mostly because he did what I told him to do.

Ok, so fast forward back to yesterday. I am now torn on how to respond. To be clear, I don't want him to let other kids to pick on him. I want him to feel like he can and should defend himself when needed, but I don't want him turning into a bully either.

So, this is a call for advice from all single mothers raising boys and to the men: I need my lil stinker to come back a little towards the middle. So, what do I say or communicate to him in a way he can understand?

Notable Writing Contests- FYI

top SELECTED SHORTS WRITING CONTEST The folks at NPR's acclaimed program, Selected Shorts, are sponsoring a writing competition with a very unique prize. The winning submission, selected by Ann Patchett, will be read as part of the Selected Shorts performance at Symphony Space on May 20, 2009. The story will be recorded for possible later broadcast as part of the public radio series. The winner will receive $1000. Entry deadline is March 6, 2009. Find rules and entry instructions at SymphonySpace.org. THE L MAGAZINE WANTS YOUR SHORT FICTION The L Magazine is proud to announce the fifth annual Literary Upstart, The Search for Pocket Fiction. Writers are encouraged to submit their best previously unpublished short fiction. Semi-finalists will be invited to participate in one of three live readings at a dark and writerly NYC tavern. The three semi-finalists will also be published in The L Magazine’s annual Summer Fiction Issue. First entry deadline is April 15, 2009. Find details and entry instructions here. THE WRITER 2009 SHORT-STORY CONTEST America's leading monthly writing magazine, The Writer, is now accepting entries for the 2009 Short-Story Contest. First prize is $1,000 and publication in the magazine. Entry deadline is May 31, 2009. Learn more and enter at WriterMag.com. GOTHAM'S 100-WORD WRITING CONTEST For a chance to win a free 10-week writing workshop, dazzle us with a piece of writing that is no more than 100 words. You may use any topic and any form—fiction, nonfiction, or poetry. As Strunk and White say, "Vigorous writing is concise." Entry deadline is April 3, 2009. Learn more and enter at WritingClasses.com. TEEN WRITING CONTEST Gotham has teamed with Sonya Sones, Simon & Schuster publishing, and Teen Ink for a truly original writing competition - The What My Girlfriend Doesn't Know Writing Contest. Teens are invited to enter for a chance to win a free online writing class. Entry deadline is April 3, 2009. Learn more and enter here.

Thursdays Writing Challenge Update

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Writing Challenge update

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