Here is an excerpt from what I hope will soon be a book about living a fulfilled life under the shadow of depresson -- or maybe despite it. Or maybe TO spite it. Or spit at it. Something like that anyway...
I am usually silly. Quite silly, I mean. I guffaw and twitter and joke. I'm sarcastic and cynical and over the top.
But I discovered something serious today. Three simple words that finally explain why my perception of God was permanently altered at a very young age.
Absent when needed.
I was reading a book this morning called Finding Hope Again. I struggle with depression (I refuse to give it a capital letter even though it's a disease.) I am definitely not at ease. I have been dis -eased for a very long time -- by people, circumstances, situations beyond my control. And by people who were previously an integral part of my life being absent when I really needed them to be present, reliable, and loving.
In this book, Neil Anderson explains why some people don't believe God is there for them. It's because the people they counted on weren't there when they were really needed. We all probably already know this. You think God is like your earthly father, right? Everyone does. Especially every little girl. In my case, my father adored me, showered me with affection, encouragement, love, and laughter. Then, when I was 13, he had an affair with my mother's best friend and subsequently left. At first, I thought things could remain relatively the same for me. He was still my dad. A bit flawed in the morality department, but still the same guy who loved me, right? Then as time went on and visits became sporadic at best, I realized he was deserting me as well as Mom. It stung. I cried. But the pain didn't go away. Deep rejection like that sometimes doesn't. At least not without a lot of counseling.
I carried that rejection along with me wherever I went from that moment on. It was heavy. I lugged it into relationship after relationship, none lasting more than two months. Then I fell in love. I thought I had found someone I could trust. Someone who would never leave. The thrill of love had melted away my fear and I could breathe again, feel the breeze blow gently across my face, open my heart wide and live, love, laugh. Nine months later, the cheater left me. And on it went.
Absent when needed.
If only I was able to feel God was there to comfort me. If only I had realized that depression was keeping me from feeling He was there. If only I had been able to believe He loved me and was holding me in His arms even if I didn't feel it...
Instead, I believed He was absent.
I stuffed the emotions, the pain, the despair deep down. I never let on. I married, had four children, lived a life many only dream of. But the feeling that God was not going to be there for me when I really needed Him never went away.
I don't know where one goes from here. How do you get back the years you've lost to depression while trying to live in the present? I don't suppose you can. I was duped and damaged like many a young girl. But I developed a disease that kept me from recovering from it. God was absent -- or it felt like He was anyway. But what now?
Here is what I've decided to believe for, hope for, and wait for.
Summer.
I believe God -- who is there even though most of the time my brain won't allow me to feel it's true -- can take my winter and turn it into summer.
Listen to what John Donne said about it:
He brought light out of darkness, not out of lesser light;
He can bring your summer out of winter, though you
have no spring; though in the ways of fortune, or
understanding, or conscience, you have been benighted
until now, wintered and frozen, clouded and eclipsed,
damped and benumbed, smothered and stupefied till
now, now God comes to you, not as in the dawning of the
day, not as in the bud of the spring, but as the sun at noon.
I will wait for my sunshine. Even if it takes forever.
Thursday, April 3, 2008
Tuesday, April 1, 2008
This just in... Can you guess who it is?
Yep! If you read the fine print or guessed Dan Fogelberg, you were right!
April Fools!
At our house, pretty much every day is April Fools day. But occasionally we outdo outselves. I remember one year my daughter took it upon herself to turn the entire house into one big April Fool. She put salt in the sugar bowl, filled the teakettle with juice, put confetti in the cereal box, and had a serious talk with us about running away from home. All in one day. And we still didn't catch on.
Then there was the time -- and this didn't even happen in April -- where she was tidying up the house for us and when it came time to go somewhere we couldn't find the car keys. After searching and searching, she conveniently found them... in the sugar bowl. "I swear I don't remember doing it!"
And another time, we were trying to go out for dinner and couldn't find my husband's wallet. After searching the entire house, I gave up on the idea and popped a few frozen dinners onto the counter to microwave. I opened the microwave and voila! The wallet.
They all wanted to lay claim to the wallet fiasco, but no one wanted to take credit for the time Drew got lost at the outlet mall in Williamsburg. He must have been less than two years old at the time. We were in a bookstore, and the girls were supposed to be watching him. They did. "He went that way, Mama," they told me as I frantically swept the store.
Now, it's a surreal feeling to lose a child in a crowded place. First you panic. Then you panic some more. Then time stands still. I'm not kidding! As I began to run through the center of the mall, it felt like I was jogging in slow motion. But it soon turned into a race, complete with people on either side urging me on. "He went past me just a few minutes ago!" some stranger would say. Then, "He's down around the corner!" from someone else. I could feel the pressure building inside my head, the tension mounting in every sinew, every muscle fighting and flighting at the same time.
I turned the corner to go down to the end of the mall where we had first come in. And there he was. The tricky little dude had noticed a merry-go-round by the front entrance and walked out of the bookstore and back around two corners through massive crowds of people to get to it. A woman was watching him and glancing nervously behind her, scanning the crowd for any sign of adult supervision, probably also looking for a policeman to lock the crazy mom up.
Have you ever gone from serious to hysterical crying in a single second? That was how it was when I saw Drew sitting there, happily patting the merry-go-round elephant.
"I ride, Mama?" he said, those innocent, long-lashed eyes batting syrupy sweetness at me.
"Sure, baby. You ride!" I said, hugging him to my pounding heart.
So now it's April Fools Day again. I don't know what to expect from my four critters, but I know something's coming. I already found legos in the dog biscuit box, and a large picture of one of the Super Mario brothers in my cereal.
If that's as far as it goes, we're good.
: )
Yours, when everyone's insane but me and when no one's insane but me,
Megan Elizabeth
Then there was the time -- and this didn't even happen in April -- where she was tidying up the house for us and when it came time to go somewhere we couldn't find the car keys. After searching and searching, she conveniently found them... in the sugar bowl. "I swear I don't remember doing it!"
And another time, we were trying to go out for dinner and couldn't find my husband's wallet. After searching the entire house, I gave up on the idea and popped a few frozen dinners onto the counter to microwave. I opened the microwave and voila! The wallet.
They all wanted to lay claim to the wallet fiasco, but no one wanted to take credit for the time Drew got lost at the outlet mall in Williamsburg. He must have been less than two years old at the time. We were in a bookstore, and the girls were supposed to be watching him. They did. "He went that way, Mama," they told me as I frantically swept the store.
Now, it's a surreal feeling to lose a child in a crowded place. First you panic. Then you panic some more. Then time stands still. I'm not kidding! As I began to run through the center of the mall, it felt like I was jogging in slow motion. But it soon turned into a race, complete with people on either side urging me on. "He went past me just a few minutes ago!" some stranger would say. Then, "He's down around the corner!" from someone else. I could feel the pressure building inside my head, the tension mounting in every sinew, every muscle fighting and flighting at the same time.
I turned the corner to go down to the end of the mall where we had first come in. And there he was. The tricky little dude had noticed a merry-go-round by the front entrance and walked out of the bookstore and back around two corners through massive crowds of people to get to it. A woman was watching him and glancing nervously behind her, scanning the crowd for any sign of adult supervision, probably also looking for a policeman to lock the crazy mom up.
Have you ever gone from serious to hysterical crying in a single second? That was how it was when I saw Drew sitting there, happily patting the merry-go-round elephant.
"I ride, Mama?" he said, those innocent, long-lashed eyes batting syrupy sweetness at me.
"Sure, baby. You ride!" I said, hugging him to my pounding heart.
So now it's April Fools Day again. I don't know what to expect from my four critters, but I know something's coming. I already found legos in the dog biscuit box, and a large picture of one of the Super Mario brothers in my cereal.
If that's as far as it goes, we're good.
: )
Yours, when everyone's insane but me and when no one's insane but me,
Megan Elizabeth
Thursday, March 27, 2008
Where's the padded cell when you really need it?
It started out like any other morning. I slept through the alarm, leaped out of bed, threw on some fuzzy slippers and jumped into the car to take my daughter to school. It was 7:00 and school begins at 7:15. I did not want to have to go to the registrar's office and sign in my daughter late wearing fuzzy slippers, so you can just imagine what kind of driving I did to get her there.
Next up, my other daughter. She needed her college ID to take a test at school, but couldn't find it. In true motherly style, I located it immediately, just in time to get her in the car and drive her to the bus stop. We got there as the bus was pulling up. I was proud. I got back home just in time for her phone call from the fire station around the corner from the bus stop. "I forgot my bus pass and I didn't have any money, so I missed the bus." The fireman waved at me knowingly as we drove off and headed uptown toward the college. I asked if she ate breakfast. No, she hadn't. I reminded her she had class until 3:20 and asked when she expected to eat breakfast. I dunno. Now, this girl has never had a problem coming up with things to say. She's turned out to be a very dramatic and social young woman despite our best efforts at isolation. (We homeschooled her, but even that horrible undersocialization didn't work. Guess we'll have to try something new.)
I finally made it back home to find a note on my door from the water company. Our water was turned off because of nonpayment. Huh? A water bill came to my house and I didn't pay it? Where could that bill be? I searched and searched and came up empty. So I called and paid over the phone. Then I called the electric company, gas company, and Time Warner cable. Everything was paid up. So where was that skanky water bill hiding?!?!?
While I was on the phone with these creditors of mine, I noticed that someone had balanced the drawers of our brand new dresser precariously on top of my new nightstand. They tumbled down and the edge chipped off of one of the drawers. It's no longer new. It's now officially "scratch and dent" merchandise. And I'm getting miffed!
As I was searching for the water bill, I found my daughter's symphony pass. We could have gone to several free concerts, but we missed them since the pass was no longer on my desk. Hmmmm....
I am not the most organized person in the world. We have too many pets and too many children. I'm not particularly well suited to lots of commotion. I'm more the introspective type who longs for lush greenery, singing birds, long romantic walks amid rose gardens with my man. Instead, I've got bird poo on my carpet, toys and junk all over my house, workmen in my bedrooms, and wii-playing kids whooping and hollering in the living room. What is all this -- bad karma from a past life? (Just kidding!)
I called the water company three times. I obsess over things like this for some reason. I must be slightly neurotic or something. They assured me the water would be turned on within 48 hours. 48 HOURS!! Toilets cannot wait that long to be flushed. I draw the line. After the third phone call, they must have had mercy on me because an indistinguishable white truck pulled up in front of our house and a man slid out, kneeled down in our front yard and flipped a switch of some kind. The water was back on. How do I know all this? Because I had been sitting on the front steps waiting for him ever since the last phone call. Yup. Obsessive.
Happily yours amid the stinky stuff that happens to everyone -- at least I hope it does or I'm being singled out!!
Megan Elizabeth
Next up, my other daughter. She needed her college ID to take a test at school, but couldn't find it. In true motherly style, I located it immediately, just in time to get her in the car and drive her to the bus stop. We got there as the bus was pulling up. I was proud. I got back home just in time for her phone call from the fire station around the corner from the bus stop. "I forgot my bus pass and I didn't have any money, so I missed the bus." The fireman waved at me knowingly as we drove off and headed uptown toward the college. I asked if she ate breakfast. No, she hadn't. I reminded her she had class until 3:20 and asked when she expected to eat breakfast. I dunno. Now, this girl has never had a problem coming up with things to say. She's turned out to be a very dramatic and social young woman despite our best efforts at isolation. (We homeschooled her, but even that horrible undersocialization didn't work. Guess we'll have to try something new.)
I finally made it back home to find a note on my door from the water company. Our water was turned off because of nonpayment. Huh? A water bill came to my house and I didn't pay it? Where could that bill be? I searched and searched and came up empty. So I called and paid over the phone. Then I called the electric company, gas company, and Time Warner cable. Everything was paid up. So where was that skanky water bill hiding?!?!?
While I was on the phone with these creditors of mine, I noticed that someone had balanced the drawers of our brand new dresser precariously on top of my new nightstand. They tumbled down and the edge chipped off of one of the drawers. It's no longer new. It's now officially "scratch and dent" merchandise. And I'm getting miffed!
As I was searching for the water bill, I found my daughter's symphony pass. We could have gone to several free concerts, but we missed them since the pass was no longer on my desk. Hmmmm....
I am not the most organized person in the world. We have too many pets and too many children. I'm not particularly well suited to lots of commotion. I'm more the introspective type who longs for lush greenery, singing birds, long romantic walks amid rose gardens with my man. Instead, I've got bird poo on my carpet, toys and junk all over my house, workmen in my bedrooms, and wii-playing kids whooping and hollering in the living room. What is all this -- bad karma from a past life? (Just kidding!)
I called the water company three times. I obsess over things like this for some reason. I must be slightly neurotic or something. They assured me the water would be turned on within 48 hours. 48 HOURS!! Toilets cannot wait that long to be flushed. I draw the line. After the third phone call, they must have had mercy on me because an indistinguishable white truck pulled up in front of our house and a man slid out, kneeled down in our front yard and flipped a switch of some kind. The water was back on. How do I know all this? Because I had been sitting on the front steps waiting for him ever since the last phone call. Yup. Obsessive.
Happily yours amid the stinky stuff that happens to everyone -- at least I hope it does or I'm being singled out!!
Megan Elizabeth
Tuesday, March 25, 2008
I don't ask for much...
It hit me this morning as I was sitting on the porcelain throne. He'd done it again.
Now, when I say I don't ask for much, I mean it. I have lived amid chaos for a very long time. We have four children, two dogs, a guinea pig who lost her companion a year ago and is now very needy, a rat who lost two companions recently (we're starting to think she's a vampire), a cat named Tosca, a turtle named Tyrant, a parrot named Sheenu, and a hermit crab whose name escapes me. The dogs aren't properly housebroken. The parrot shrieks early in the morning and giggles softly all night. My temper flares, as do flashes of humor on rare occasions.
We're talking chaos.
Add to that a large remodeling project and you have one sassy, middle-aged soul...
Who doesn't ask for much. Only Charmin Ultra.
But he did it again. He went and bought whatever toilet paper was on sale, and I am greatly chagrined.
Yours,
Megan Elizabeth, T.P. connoisseur supreme
Now, when I say I don't ask for much, I mean it. I have lived amid chaos for a very long time. We have four children, two dogs, a guinea pig who lost her companion a year ago and is now very needy, a rat who lost two companions recently (we're starting to think she's a vampire), a cat named Tosca, a turtle named Tyrant, a parrot named Sheenu, and a hermit crab whose name escapes me. The dogs aren't properly housebroken. The parrot shrieks early in the morning and giggles softly all night. My temper flares, as do flashes of humor on rare occasions.
We're talking chaos.
Add to that a large remodeling project and you have one sassy, middle-aged soul...
Who doesn't ask for much. Only Charmin Ultra.
But he did it again. He went and bought whatever toilet paper was on sale, and I am greatly chagrined.
Yours,
Megan Elizabeth, T.P. connoisseur supreme
Where does the time go?!?
I took a month off work -- my freelance work, I mean. I told my clients I was going to work on my house which is still not completely remodeled. I'm fast running out of money and where has the time gone? My monthlong hiatus is at an end, and I have mounds of laundry, ceilings that are not painted, floors needing tile -- and the exterior of the house still isn't done either.
But if I don't start working again, we'll lose the blankety blank house and then what will it matter?!?!?
So here I sit amid the clutter, boxes, clothes, and yes, birdie doo-doo, waiting to be rescued by the flylady house cleaners and the remodelers who remodel for the sheer pleasure of it (they'd have to since we're out of cash).
And you know the worst part? I thought I would get one or two of my manuscripts completed this past month while I wasn't working on marketing or direct mail or magazine articles. I am thinking it's not going to happen in this stage of life. Between the piddling doggies and squawking bird, I'm pretty maxed out. Oh, and I have children, too. You'd think we would have figured out after twenty years of marriage and four children how to save a buck, raise a kid, and wrangle a couple of pets, but I am totally and completely without a clue at this point. I guess that's what puts spice into life! Spontaneity! Sudden anxiety! Loss of life! (We lost a rat over the Easter holiday -- poor thing died in my son's arms at which point blood came oozing out of her eyes. Not a pretty sight. And we were out of town at the time buying furniture and rugs.)
Never a dull moment, I tell ya!
Yours -- when all seems lost and time stands still (gee, I sure wish it would, so I could catch up!)
Megan Elizabeth
But if I don't start working again, we'll lose the blankety blank house and then what will it matter?!?!?
So here I sit amid the clutter, boxes, clothes, and yes, birdie doo-doo, waiting to be rescued by the flylady house cleaners and the remodelers who remodel for the sheer pleasure of it (they'd have to since we're out of cash).
And you know the worst part? I thought I would get one or two of my manuscripts completed this past month while I wasn't working on marketing or direct mail or magazine articles. I am thinking it's not going to happen in this stage of life. Between the piddling doggies and squawking bird, I'm pretty maxed out. Oh, and I have children, too. You'd think we would have figured out after twenty years of marriage and four children how to save a buck, raise a kid, and wrangle a couple of pets, but I am totally and completely without a clue at this point. I guess that's what puts spice into life! Spontaneity! Sudden anxiety! Loss of life! (We lost a rat over the Easter holiday -- poor thing died in my son's arms at which point blood came oozing out of her eyes. Not a pretty sight. And we were out of town at the time buying furniture and rugs.)
Never a dull moment, I tell ya!
Yours -- when all seems lost and time stands still (gee, I sure wish it would, so I could catch up!)
Megan Elizabeth
Sunday, March 23, 2008
Friday, March 21, 2008
Blue Mountain Arts accepted my poem as a test market entry...
Well, it looks like I have tentatively breached the previously locked door that marks the entrance to the greeting card market. Yea!
My dear friend Donna who is always so very supportive told me about this market, and I decided to try my hand at a Father's Day poem. A few short weeks later (wouldn't it be great if book publishers got back to you this fast?) I received an acceptance. They're placing it in a test market. If it sells well, I will get a quick $300 and a byline inside the greeting card. Then it will hit the stands across the country.
Cool, huh?!
Yours -- whether I'm accepted or rejected, sick or well, crazy or... nope, I'm always crazy!
Megan Elizabeth
Here's a link to Blue Mountain Arts submission info.
My dear friend Donna who is always so very supportive told me about this market, and I decided to try my hand at a Father's Day poem. A few short weeks later (wouldn't it be great if book publishers got back to you this fast?) I received an acceptance. They're placing it in a test market. If it sells well, I will get a quick $300 and a byline inside the greeting card. Then it will hit the stands across the country.
Cool, huh?!
Yours -- whether I'm accepted or rejected, sick or well, crazy or... nope, I'm always crazy!
Megan Elizabeth
Here's a link to Blue Mountain Arts submission info.
Wednesday, March 19, 2008
Hilary speaks to Barack Obama (No, not THAT Hillary!)
Well, you just never know what each new day will bring, do you?
I picked my daughter up from school, then went to the Community College to pick up my other daughter. There was traffic. Lots of people milling around CPCC, waiting in line near the stadium. Barak Obama was in town.
The girls asked if they could go in and hear him speak, and I thought, "Yeah, why not?" We're conservatives politically and vehemently opposed to offering women the choice to abort their unborn children. We're also environmentalists who support gun control. There really isn't a party that can hold us. However, we have always voted according to conscience and when it comes to supporting life, be it the lives of sea fowl being killed as a result of oil slicks, endangered species struggling to survive in vanishing habitats, or, most importantly, unborn humans whose parents believe they have the right to stop their hearts from beating, their brains from functioning, or as Juno learned, their fingernails from growing, we choose life.
So we're basically Republicans.
But Hilary went to the rally anyway, got up out of her seat, walked over to the microphone, and asked Obama a question. She asked him what he would do to support young women with unplanned pregnancies. She was hoping he might say he'd offer government programs, funding for medical care, adoption assistance, the sort of thing a democratic candidate who believes in large, supportive government might say. Although he shaped his answer to address prevention and education, Hilary was still glad to have the opportunity to talk to him. We live in a country where that's possible. It was safe, free to the public, and as a sixteen-year-old American, she was able to ask these questions of a potential presidential candidate. That's a good thing.
Hilary is not bashful. She next called in to a conservative talk radio show to discuss her experience at the rally. And after the rally, she was interviewed by Fox News.
And where was I all this time? Standing out in the rain. I dropped the girls off, and while I went to park the car, the last person was admitted to the auditorium. So my two teens went in without me. Which I think is even better. What strong young women I have somehow managed to raise!
I only wish I had brought an umbrella...
Yours, amid life's twists and turns, hills and valleys,
(at least with us, it's always interesting!)
Megan Elizabeth
I picked my daughter up from school, then went to the Community College to pick up my other daughter. There was traffic. Lots of people milling around CPCC, waiting in line near the stadium. Barak Obama was in town.
The girls asked if they could go in and hear him speak, and I thought, "Yeah, why not?" We're conservatives politically and vehemently opposed to offering women the choice to abort their unborn children. We're also environmentalists who support gun control. There really isn't a party that can hold us. However, we have always voted according to conscience and when it comes to supporting life, be it the lives of sea fowl being killed as a result of oil slicks, endangered species struggling to survive in vanishing habitats, or, most importantly, unborn humans whose parents believe they have the right to stop their hearts from beating, their brains from functioning, or as Juno learned, their fingernails from growing, we choose life.
So we're basically Republicans.
But Hilary went to the rally anyway, got up out of her seat, walked over to the microphone, and asked Obama a question. She asked him what he would do to support young women with unplanned pregnancies. She was hoping he might say he'd offer government programs, funding for medical care, adoption assistance, the sort of thing a democratic candidate who believes in large, supportive government might say. Although he shaped his answer to address prevention and education, Hilary was still glad to have the opportunity to talk to him. We live in a country where that's possible. It was safe, free to the public, and as a sixteen-year-old American, she was able to ask these questions of a potential presidential candidate. That's a good thing.
Hilary is not bashful. She next called in to a conservative talk radio show to discuss her experience at the rally. And after the rally, she was interviewed by Fox News.
And where was I all this time? Standing out in the rain. I dropped the girls off, and while I went to park the car, the last person was admitted to the auditorium. So my two teens went in without me. Which I think is even better. What strong young women I have somehow managed to raise!
I only wish I had brought an umbrella...
Yours, amid life's twists and turns, hills and valleys,
(at least with us, it's always interesting!)
Megan Elizabeth
Thursday, March 13, 2008
Wow. So interesting...
I watched the CMS Charlotte Mecklenburg School Board meeting on our local access channel last night. I don't think too terribly many people watch this channel. It gripped me, though, because the school board was so clearly split between conservatives and liberals. I noticed the differentiation almost immediately. And it's really rather strange. They were talking about a bullying policy. Although I am an independent politically, I have to admit I usually stray to the side of less government. I mean, take a look at the local DMV if you want to see your tax dollars in action. Not the brightest bulbs in the bunch and the beaurocratic red tape is ridiculous. But I digress.
The conservatives were articulate. They had real reasons for questioning the validity of the new bullying policy. They had copies of emails from constituents. These were quickly dismissed. They requested that a definition of bullying be included so no one could get away with it based on the lack of clearly delineated guidelines as to what constitutes bullying. Their requests were denied. They warned that the "training materials" which were to be used were created by the state gay/lesbian task force and may become "indoctrination materials" if not immediately sometime in the future. Their warnings went unheeded and they were mocked for being concerned that a group with a political and sexual agenda was going to have direct access to our school children K-12. Now, I'm not anti-gay. I have a couple of dear friends who are gay. That's not the point. The point is that my children's sexuality and the formation of their values regarding sex are just that -- mine! These kiddos came out of my body. I care more for them (see last post) than anyone else in the world does. I want to be the one who talks to them about sex, be it with the opposite sex, same sex, before marriage or after. That's my job. And the school board's job is to honor my decision to keep that job for myself. Because last I checked this was still a free country. Freedom is ringing more quietly these days. I'm concerned...
I don't think any new bullying policies need to be discussed when there are still children falling through the cracks, graduating without the ability to get into a decent college from overcrowded schools filled with undereducated teachers. Why undereducated? If you put all your money into new "bullying policies" rather than teachers' salaries, you're not exactly going to get the cream of the crop. My daughter had a teacher one year who couldn't spell very well. That is not acceptable.
Okay, off soapbox now...
Enjoying the lovely weather?
Utopia -- when homeschooling is legal in every state and abortion is not, when citizens care for one another, even pregnant runaways with uncertain futures,
Megan Elizabeth
The conservatives were articulate. They had real reasons for questioning the validity of the new bullying policy. They had copies of emails from constituents. These were quickly dismissed. They requested that a definition of bullying be included so no one could get away with it based on the lack of clearly delineated guidelines as to what constitutes bullying. Their requests were denied. They warned that the "training materials" which were to be used were created by the state gay/lesbian task force and may become "indoctrination materials" if not immediately sometime in the future. Their warnings went unheeded and they were mocked for being concerned that a group with a political and sexual agenda was going to have direct access to our school children K-12. Now, I'm not anti-gay. I have a couple of dear friends who are gay. That's not the point. The point is that my children's sexuality and the formation of their values regarding sex are just that -- mine! These kiddos came out of my body. I care more for them (see last post) than anyone else in the world does. I want to be the one who talks to them about sex, be it with the opposite sex, same sex, before marriage or after. That's my job. And the school board's job is to honor my decision to keep that job for myself. Because last I checked this was still a free country. Freedom is ringing more quietly these days. I'm concerned...
I don't think any new bullying policies need to be discussed when there are still children falling through the cracks, graduating without the ability to get into a decent college from overcrowded schools filled with undereducated teachers. Why undereducated? If you put all your money into new "bullying policies" rather than teachers' salaries, you're not exactly going to get the cream of the crop. My daughter had a teacher one year who couldn't spell very well. That is not acceptable.
Okay, off soapbox now...
Enjoying the lovely weather?
Utopia -- when homeschooling is legal in every state and abortion is not, when citizens care for one another, even pregnant runaways with uncertain futures,
Megan Elizabeth
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