The Crab Chronicles

Russell and Gerard, Oh My

It was a beautiful day today, with highs in the 70's but I spent most of the day inside with a tummyache. Nothing seemed to help it until late this afternoon I started feeling a bit better.

I spent most of the day reading an excellent book called Even Silence Has An End, My Six Years of Captivity in the Colombian Jungle, by Ingrid Betancourt. She was the Colmbian politician who was kidnapped by communist guerrilas in 2002 and held captive for more than 6 years. She writes really well. It's hard to put down, but I have to on occasion because it's so intense. I highly recommend it.

When I get down about my current issues in my life I have to now stop and think hey, at least I'm not being held captive in the jungle. From that perspective my problems don't seem quite as bad. The one book she asked for when she was a prisoner was the bible. She read and studied it for hours. Excellent choice.

I received word late this afternoon that Alesia is living in a different location now. I had a gut feeling something was going on with her. She is staying with another family, one that I know well, and they have two adopted girls near in age to her. This is a relief, for a lot of reasons. I sent word to her to call me, but she hasn't. I'm not holding my breath. However, I know she is safe. Whether or not she is learning lessons, I don't know. I am still praying many times a day, though.

We asked Mike about the science test he took today and he was distressed to even talk about it. Another lesson I hope was learned.

We had started watching the new Robin Hood last night, the one with Russell Crowe. I was disappointed in the movie. It just wasn't as much fun as the one with Kevin Costner. This Robin Hood took itself too seriously. However, Michael loved it. Michael adores Russell Crowe. The funny thing is, he keeps getting him confused with Gerard Butler. They do look a bit alike, especially if you think about Gerard in 300 and Russell Crowe in Gladiator.I'd go out with either of them...

WEEKEND NOTE

My church, St. Bede's, is having a big sale tomorrow called Baubles Bangles and Bede's - it's a big rummage sale basically, but they make a lot of money on this every year. It's tomorrow from 9-4. If you're in the Atlanta area, go on by. They have some really nice stuff at great prices.

Moments in My Day

I was wondering earlier today what I was going to write about, and then I realized there have been several interesting moments. That's what life is really all about, when you think of it, just moments that stick in your memory.

I am glad I am not the type of person who is constantly texting or checking a crackberry, or taking photos with my phone. I value ACTUAL experiences, still. I pay attention to moments. I REMEMBER - without the aid of electronics, most of the time. I suspect one day soon that will be a real rarity.

My mother reads a column by a very smart guy called John Rosemond, who offers some great insights to parents. This column in particular, I liked. It talks about parents who do everything for their kids and don't allow them to screw up. Kids who never screw up never learn. Very apropos today.

I have an acquaintance whose kids are always dressed in the latest fashions, they make straight A's, and the parents drive new or nearly new cars and vacation in places like Hawaii or Disneyworld every year. They are both professionals, but I know they do not have the income to support their lifestyle. I asked a mutual friend once how they do it. "They juggle money," she observed dryly. "They are always one step away from bankruptcy." I was beyond horrified. To me, I don't mind driving an old car and wearing clothes I've had for years. If I was one step away from bankruptcy I'd be freaking out.

Why did I mention her? Oh yeah... She does her kids' homework every night. She is a "helicopter" parent. Her kids never screw up anything because she won't allow it. She has told me several times about a teacher that gave her child a B and it was so unfair because she was one point away from the A. At first I felt sorry for the child, then I thought wait, she makes straight A's all the time. What's it gonna hurt her to make a B?!? We're talking about a 5th grader, not some high schooler trying to get into Harvard.

Michael came home this afternoon and said he has a test in Science tomorrow. He forgot to bring his book home. He forgot to bring his notes home. He has NO IDEA what is on the test tomorrow. None. I emailed the teacher and explained the situation and she didn't get the email. I got no reply. Now I think that's just as well. Rosemond is right. I am not going to rescue him. They've been studying the human body, so I suspect it will be on the human body. He is going to screw that test up big time.

Before dinner, while I was cooking, I told him to go online and look at the online textbook and read the last chapter they were working on,  out loud, to himself, to review. He didn't do it. So I have zero sympathy. He was whining about it right before bed and I said "Michael, I hope you fail the test. Maybe that will help you remember next time to bring the book home." I also reminded him of the bonuses I pay for A's and B's. He gets nothing for C's. He was whining about that. I didn't get angry but I just looked at him sternly. "Michael you have a very good brain. IF you studied harder you could get ALL A's, Dude."

When I went to pick up Michael from school I had an eerie, sad moment. Before he got to the car, I was watching the kids come out of the school building. I park pretty far away. I saw a slight blonde girl wearing a purple shirt and a hoodie come out. For just a split second, I thought it was Alesia. I used to pick her up sometimes from that middle school, years ago. Of course, as soon as I thought about it rationally I knew it wasn't her. Then I became overwhelmingly sad, thinking about my beautiful girl who lives so close and yet keeps her distance from us now. I wanted to scream and cry and pound the steering wheel, but I didn't. I got hold of myself. I could hear Mother's voice in my head "You've got a little boy to raise. You've got to get hold of yourself." She's right.

What I wonder about sometimes is this. I hear my parents voices in my head all the time. They are my moral compasses. Alesia only lived with me a bit less than 6 years Does she hear my voice in her head, ever? If she does, she clearly ignores it.

My final moment to share is sort of funny. Every night after dinner, Michael gets Mother's drink and carries it back to her room for her. She rarely stays in the family room and watches movies with us. Coco usually goes trotting after Mother, her little shadow, right through the middle of the room. She likes to get a tiny Milkbone from her bowl and get up in the middle of Mother's bed and eat it, while Mother reads or checks messages on the computer.

Tonight, after dinner we were all sort of grumbling at each other. I was fussing a little bit at Mike and he was annoyed with me, and Mother was saying something loud that I didn't catch. Anyway, for just a minute, there was a lot of rancor in the air. After Michael and Mom left the room, I saw Coco go trotting very quickly around the back of the sofa towards the doorway, Milkbone in her mouth. Her body language was all "OK, you people are being loud and weird and I am OUTTA here! I want to go eat my Milkbone in PEACE!" I wished for a moment that I had a video camera. That is the funniest dog.

This is Coco with her aunt Jane last summer. I think Coco had just been told she could not lick that plate and she was purely disgusted... Uncle Don, in the background, is clearly amused...

Wanted: Bilingual Wildlife Technician With Moral Fiber

I haven’t written a lot about my job search, but every day I see bizarre and/or funny things in job ads. I thought I’d do a blog post about some of these things. If you have the time or inclination to go on Craigslist or indeed.com, you too could read some of these, and possibly get a giggle.

One thing that kind of amuses me is that every single job ad for an office worker says they want someone “detail oriented.” I am tempted to run a bogus ad for the opposite of that, saying I want someone “Sloppy on the details as long as you get the big picture.”

I also see a lot of ads that say they want someone who is bilingual. I am always tempted to answer those and say “I am quad-lingual – English, French, Italian and a little Russian.” When did we start assuming that anyone bi-lingual automatically means they speak Spanish as well as English? One ad I saw today said they want someone bi-lingual, but don’t bother to respond unless you have a social security number. Hmmm… wonder why they put that…

Just today I saw an ad for a company who wants a secretary/accountant/payroll clerk all rolled into one. Oh, and the person must be bi-lingual in Italian. Wow. First time I ever saw that. The company is “an International Organization featuring the manufacture of portable toilets.” I didn’t know Italians made porta-potties right here in Georgia. You learn something new every day…

Another receptionist ad I saw said this: “Looking to hire someone highly reliable, creative and someone who can come in ON TIME.” Gee, I wonder what the issue was with their last receptionist?!

Just after finishing college, I answered an ad that was sort of vague, and I went down to a nondescript office and was shown a little film about the millions of dead skin cells we lose every day. There were horrifying photos of bugs that looked like they would attack your car – these things are all over our houses! I was told. Even a house that LOOKS clean is inundated by these things!  What does this have to do with anything? I wondered. I listened to the entire pitch, watched the film, etc. and FINALLY, after being there more than an hour, finally was informed the company needed door to door salesmen for vacuum cleaners. They had figured out that if you told people they could vacuum dead skin cells off their mattress and scared them half to death with photos of microscopic bugs magnified a million times, they would buy a ridiculously overpriced vacuum, at least some of the time. I thought OK, I can do this. (I was young, remember.) The next day I went to a training session where we were supposed to learn how to set up a demonstration in the home for the vacuum cleaner. The stupid thing weighed a ton. I nearly threw my back out carrying it across the room. I was young and in fairly decent shape.  If I couldn’t carry it across the room, I sure couldn’t walk all over a neighborhood with it, I reasoned. Thus ended my very short career selling vacuum cleaners. My dad laughed about it for years.

There’s an ad I saw today I re-read four times and I still don’t understand it. What is a “Revenue and Yield Management Assistant”? I know the company wants someone capable of “Maintaining all rates and content on all distribution channels to include internet, extranet, GDS and PMS.” I have no idea what GDS is, but I am an expert on PMS. I’m thinking that won’t impress them, however..

I saw a large ad for a receptionist for a local weight loss AND anti-aging clinic. They want you to send a photo with your resume. Pretty clever, because when people lose weight they look older. I know this for a fact. Fat fills wrinkles, people.  You can’t do both without plastic surgery somewhere down the line. The website looks scary; they accomplish the weight loss with medication [red flag!!]. I don’t want to work there. However, just to mess with them, I feel like sending them a photo of my daughter Alesia and my resume and a cover letter saying “I am 48 years old - I could write a BOOK on weight loss and anti-aging!”  LMAO.

This ad intrigued me: “Must have excellent personal skills, pleasant, and a non-lazy go getter.” Isn’t a non-lazy person already a “go-getter”?  Or can you be energetic but not willing to go anywhere? A dynamo with agorophobia? Just curious…

I have no experience with rhinestones but I was intrigued by this ad: “Looking for help to glue rhinestones on eyeglasses for Halloween project.” If it weren’t in a little town about 45 minutes away I’d be happy to glue rhinestones for $8/hour.

I like the ad for a manager trainee with “good moral fiber.” How are they going to determine that? Quiz you on knowledge of bible verses?

Have you ever heard of a Wildlife Technician? Neither had I, but I read the entire ad. It wasn’t really clear what the company was until I looked in the email and saw the word “pest.” So by “wildlife” they mean bugs. I never looked at a bug in my house and thought “wildlife” but then again I’m just not good at the slang the kids use nowadays…

I saw an ad yesterday for an Administrative Assistant and I thought it sounded decent until I read this line under Desired Qualifications: “ability to handle difficult customers.” Um, OK, so you want someone to take all the irate calls from customers who have complaints, right? Why not just say that? There are people who actually enjoy dealing with that sort of thing – I know several guys who like it. It’s the verbal/cubicle equivalent of wrestling. I’d rather set my hair on fire.

See why I spend hours every day looking on the internet for a job?!?

Learning

I wasn't going to try and post tonight, but as soon as I read my friend Cindy's wonderful post about family I thought no, I have to share that. Cindy's two adopted girls have been home less than a year and she has made remarkable progress with them. She has also done great at instilling all her kids with a solid idea of what is a family, and why is it important. Amazing the insights they have.

We watched the best movie tonight, and we didn't quite finish it, but it's fascinating. It's an HBO movie, but I don't get HBO. We ordered it from Netflix. It's called Temple Grandin. Temple is a real person who has autism, but is able to get along very well in the world, and is a respected veterinarian. Watching the film illustrate how she visually learns is just fascinating. Even if you don't know anyone autistic [I don't] it's just a wonderful film.

Maybe it's because I come from a family filled with teachers [my mother, grandmother, two uncles, etc.] I am fascinated by how people learn. Michael learns through listening. I can read him a chapter out of his science book and he will make an A on the test the next day. Since I started reading to him at night, his reading comprehension has just soared. He listens to me, but he follows along in the text, too.

Michael also comprehends abstractions quite easily. We were reading tonight and I read that Shakespeare posited that events are not themselves good or bad, but people assign those labels to them. He immediately got it, and made me stop reading so we could discuss it. I shared that I think few things in life are black or white, morally, but there are many shades of grey. Makes life challenging.

Alesia is just the opposite, a visual learner. It's also very frustrating because she's a concrete thinker and cannot go anywhere abstract - the future is an abstract concept to her, which I suspect is partly to blame for her current adventures away from home. She won't think about tomorrow because it doesn't exist for her. I have wondered at times if she is a tiny bit autistic.

I think I think visually, but that's how I understand abstractions. I see the days of the week in my mind, in a chart. Ditto for months of the year. I taught myself arithmetic because I count points on the numbers - for instance, 4 has 4 points, and 8 has 8 points. I worked that out as a kid. When I learned multiplication I saw the numbers on a line, is the only way I can think to explain it.

My brother can learn almost anything from a book. He taught himself home plumbing and other repair work from a book he found. My dad was the same, he learned from reading. He took a course as a young man in speed-reading and he told me once he could speed read like nobody's business. I believed it.

I don't know how my mother learns, but she has a giant IQ. One year bruce bought her an entire set of books about all the great philosophies of the world and she read it just for fun. She used to read in class and if the teacher asked her to repeat what was said mom could do it. She can read and listen to something else at the same time and understand and remember both. She used to wait and study for a test the night before, crack open the book for the first time, and she made top grades.

Leave a comment if you would like to share how you or someone you know learns. It's fascinating to me.

Michael got his school picture today and I was delighted with it. I guess it's probably one of the last pictures of him without glasses... He already looks so grown up and handsome, at least to me.

Lost It

I picked up Michael early from school yesterday and we were on the way to the eye doctor and he said "What have you been doing today?" I was sort of taken aback but I answered. "I've been watering the yard, I cleaned up the kitchen, helped Granny, spent a lot of time searching for jobs on the internet, took a shower. The usual."

After a small pause he said "OK. It's better than school!"

He whines about going to school every day, although I'm trying to get him to stop. I looked at him the other day when he started it and I said "Listen, I won't have another school dropout, you hear me? Your sister threw away her future and her life is going to be very tough from now on, but I expect better from you." He hushed up.

I know I shouldn't compare the two of them, but I wanted him to know how much it distressed me to think of him leaving school without a diploma. He makes good grades almost effortlessly, and he doesn't have a learning disability. There's no reason for him to quit school. I feel compelled to remind him of that.

The eye doctor said Michael's problems with the glasses were from him not looking out the very top of the lens. That's where he has to look for distance. He was looking in the middle. The office had nobody in there, so the two technicians gave him a little tutorial in progressive lenses and it worked out fine. I was so glad we went. Michael's having a hard time adjusting, but he'll get there. I told him he HAS to wear the glasses, like the doctor said.

At breakfast yesterday I had my mind on a million things, as usual, and after we said the blessing I was sitting there for a minute, then I said something to Mom, then I looked at Mike blankly. "Did we say the blessing?" He said yes. I muttered sort of to myself "I'm losing it." Michael looked at me and said "When will you know you have lost it?"

I actually lost it a long time ago, kiddo... LOL

We finished watching Russell Crowe in Gladiator last night. Michael said "I like that guy [meaning Crowe] - he doesn't look like a sissy man." Crowe was wearing a skirt at the time, but I didn't point it out...

A Moving Day

It's fascinating to me how the holy spirit works in our lives, at times when we really need to be aware of its presence. Mike and I went to Sunday School and church yesterday, and I was very glad we went. My Sunday School class studied this passage from Matthew, 6:25-34, which really spoke to me:

²⁵"Therefore I tell you, do not worry about your life, what you will eat or drink; or about your body, what you will wear. Is not life more important than food, and the body more important than clothes? ²⁶Look at the birds of the air; they do not sow or reap or store away in barns, and yet your heavenly Father feeds them. Are you not much more valuable than they? ²⁷Who of you by worrying can add a single hour to his life^[a]?

 ²⁸"And why do you worry about clothes? See how the lilies of the field grow. They do not labor or spin. ²⁹Yet I tell you that not even Solomon in all his splendor was dressed like one of these. ³⁰If that is how God clothes the grass of the field, which is here today and tomorrow is thrown into the fire, will he not much more clothe you, O you of little faith? ³¹So do not worry, saying, 'What shall we eat?' or 'What shall we drink?' or 'What shall we wear?' ³²For the pagans run after all these things, and your heavenly Father knows that you need them. ³³But seek first his kingdom and his righteousness, and all these things will be given to you as well. ³⁴Therefore do not worry about tomorrow, for tomorrow will worry about itself. Each day has enough trouble of its own.

Wow, talk about appropriate. We were all sharing how much faith has meant to us in our lives, at times when we were under tremendous stress. We were all in agreement that the Lord takes care of us. That's what faith is all about.

Michael's Sunday School teacher agreed to be his sponsor for his baptism in November, which was a tremendous relief to me.

Michael and I went to Goodwill and found him a pullover cotton sweater that's lovely. Just before we went we had been arguing. I told him he had enough jackets and he said they were all too small. I was thinking he would choose something tacky and I'd have to tell him no, and there would be a big argument. He chose well, though. The pullover sweater looks brand new and it's a name brand, and it cost me $4.69.

Michael said in church his glasses aren't allowing him to see things at a distance inside. He was trying to read a passage that was up on the wall in a display at the front of the church, and with his glasses on he could not read it. So those will have to go back to the place I got them, I'm afraid. Either the prescription is wrong or they were made wrong. However, I am not anxious about it. I have a feeling things will work out.

Michael went to youth group with his friend Colton last night. I don't know what I was thinking, but I went to pick him up at 7. It's not over until 8. I sat there for a while in my car, watching the kids playing outside. It was a lovely night. I had the radio on and "Stairway to Heaven" came on, which is a really melancholy song, when you think about it. I was watching this one boy throw a frisbee, and he was gamboling with such joy and abandon, in the sunset, with that song playing, and I just started to cry. I was thinking about Alesia, of course. It's been nearly 6 years since her adoption.I haven't heard from her in a week.

I still have hope for her, but sometimes sadness overwhelms me. Sometimes I need to just cry a little bit.

When Mike got in the car last night I asked him if he had fun and he said yes. I asked about dinner. He had a sandwich, he reported. "What are we doing when we get home?" he asked. "Well, the usual," I replied. "I need to eat more dinner! I am HUNGRY," he informed me. He ate a grilled cheese sandwich AND a serving of tuna salad.

When we got home, Mother was talking on the phone to a friend of hers that she hadn't spoken to in a while. Her friend is also her age, and spent all day yesterday in the emergency room with atrial fibrillation. She told Mother last night she was feeling very blue, and then Mother's call really cheered her up. Mother had just had a feeling she should call Rosemary. I think that was God telling Mother she needed to call and cheer up her friend.

So we really had a God-filled Sabbath day.

Glasses Dude Wins

Busy day, but things went well, including the beautiful weather - it was in the 70's all day. We got our grocery shopping done in record time.

After 3 weeks of waiting, Michael FINALLY got his new prescription glasses this morning. They are trifocals. He's still getting used to them. The technician said it would take a couple of weeks. I know when I first got my bifocals it was tough to adjust. However, I give Mike credit. He wore thm all day except for his tennis match.

Michael won his tennis match this afternoon. Yay! Great boost for his confidence.I took some photos, but most of them aren't great. I couldn't get close enough.

Here he is with some of his teammates. The two singles matches were played early.

Only one more match this season! Yay.

Two funnies to report today.

We were in the car today and I was behind a car at a light. The light changed and the car didn't move. I politely tapped the horn. The car moved. Mike said "Why did you do dat?!" I said "What, tap the horn? The guy wasn't paying attention." Mike just shook his head in disgust. "If Uncle Bruce was driving he'd have HIT the horn!" - and he pantomimed how he'd lay on the horn.

We got Mike's very nice progress report, and it was excellent. All A's and B's. In his core subjects he got all B's, but a high A in English. However, the English teacher said "Talks excessively in class." Mother and I were teasing Mike and Mother said "Why do you talk to much in there? Is there a cute little girl in that class? What's her name?" Mike said "No, my friend is in there, though." Mother said "Aww, c'mon, what's HER name?!" Mike just looked at us, straight-faced, and said in his baritone voice, "Henry." LOL

Sarah's Eyes

I was very happy to hear that one of my poems is going to be published in December over at vox poetica, my friend Annmarie's wonderful site for poetry lovers. Annmarie has encouraged my efforts to get back to writing poetry, which I had not done in a long time, and I will always be grateful to her for that. During times of stress in my life poetry has been a great comfort.

Annmarie sent out an email a while back asking for contributions to a series called Contributor Series 7: The Confessional Diary of Bone. I love that title.

My poem is below. It was written about my great great grandmother Sarah Mahalie Nelson, a half-Cherokee lady who married my great great grandfather John T. Hasty well over a hundred years ago. For years, nobody in the family talked about the fact that she was part Cherokee. I believe some Cherokee women married white men in the North Georgia mountains, and thus didn't go to Oklahoma on the Trail of Tears.I don't have any diaries or letters from Sarah, and I know almost nothing about her life, but I feel sadness when I look at her photo, and that inspired the poem.

Sarah’s Eyes

 

I have come to understand that memory is biological.

When I look at the photos of my Cherokee great great grandmother Sarah,

her tiny skull,

her sad eyes,

 I feel her despair.   I have no words

for her story, only legends and suppositions, but her eyes –

Over a century, her eyes hold the truth.

My bones hold her stories, secrets.

She went deep into the mountains where they couldn’t find her

 and stayed off the tearstained trail.

She married a white man,

 took a white name, and bore him sons.

Her grandson/ my grandfather - Papa - he wore long limbs

from his father, a giant, angry man.

Was it the taint of mixed blood that caused Papa’s father

 to tie the hands of his sons and beat them bloody?

Papa stopped the carnage

as soon as he was big enough to fight his father.

Or was it anger at Sarah

 for turning away from her Cherokee family?

Papa turned away from that rage

and became a gentle giant,

a great warrior on the baseball field.

As an elder, he fed me bits of bread and honey

 and read me stories.

Like Sarah,

he loved the sanctuary of mountains.

 

I lost Papa when I was nine years old.

I feel Papa in my bones though,

in the beat of the drums when I go to pow-wows.

 I feel her inside me too, in those drums;

mute memories pulse in a newer heart, but

I always want to weep for what we lost.

 

By Dee Thompson

July 2010

 

 

Aftereffects of PTSD

My thoughts are sort of in turmoil this morning.I try not to think about my daughter and worry about her, but it's very hard. We saw her Monday, but she hasn't texted or messaged since then. I let her know her application for the Gateway to College program is here, but she hasn't responded.

One of my favorite websites is Adoption Under One Roof, because they always have great articles. I write for them, too. This article, about the effects of PTSD on the brain, really hit home. Alesia has a terrible memory, and it's an aftereffect of PTSD. It's her biggest stumbling block. All my advice, admonishments, practically everything I say goes in one ear and out the other. She refuses to retain anything for very long, except maybe schoolwork. She makes good grades, WHEN she goes to school. The bad memory is real, though. I get ticked with people who say "she's just a teenager." Um, NO, she's not. She's a very typical teen AND she has all the residual effects of trauma to deal with. She has a bigger burden than anyone can really understand. That's what breaks my heart.

And she won't accept my help with anything. She demands to learn life lessons the hard way.

I feel so badly for my friend Cindy over at Big Mama Hollers because she's dealing with her dad being very sick. Hospice has been called, but at least he's home and not in pain. Been there, done that, and it's emotionally draining. Say a prayer for her and her family, if you pray, please.

Michael only has two more weeks of tennis this season, thank goodness. Last night he didn't get home from tennis practice until 6:30, and then had to do a bunch of homework. I helped him as much as I could, but he was tired and grumpy.

We had a good dinner last night. I am trying to figure out if I should write up the recipe, or what to call it. We like cubed beef, and usually cook it in gravy. I wanted to do something different yesterday. So while Mike was at tennis, I cut up and sauteed two peppers and an onion in some olive oil, butter, salt and pepper. I mixed in a jar of Classico tomato sauce and some extra Itallian seasoning. I browned each piece of beef after dredging it in flour. I arranged the beef in a casserole, then poured over the tomato/pepper sauce, and topped it with some parmesan cheese and baked it in the oven at 275 for almost two hours. It was fork tender. We ate it over rice. Very yummy. Next time I will add some cayenne or something to make the sauce have some more zip. It was a touch bland. Still good, though.

The weather has turned nippy again. Highs for the next few days in the lower 70's. We still have tons of green tomatoes on the vine. I fear they won't turn red, though. I am debating bringing them in the house to ripen...

HORN BLOWING

In case you don't know, I have written two books and numerous articles. I also have two other blogs. If you'd like to check out what I've written in one handy dandy page, I've listen everything here. I will try and update this periodically. I write all the time.

Baptism

Yesterday was not significant, except for one appointment Michael had, at church. He will be baptized into the Episcopal faith on November 7th. I am very pleased he has agreed to this.

He has always said he believed in God, and he willingly participates in prayers and church, which is good. Some teens rebel. He might rebel at some point, but so far, so good.

We don't know if he was baptized in Kazakhstan. If he was, it was most likely as a Russian orthodox. Since there is no known record, I felt like like he needed to be baptized in our church. He is also taking Rite 13 classes during Sunday School time, and those prepare him to be confirmed in a couple of years. Confirmation is an adult making a decision to join the church. I was confirmed at age 11, and that's relaly too young. I remember the classes as extremely boring, and I didn't really make a decision to join so much as I just went along with things. I think it's important that an adolescent or teen really understand the Christian faith, and make an informed decision.

Laura [our assistant priest] was very patient about explaining to him the ritual, and we even walked into the sanctuary and walked through the steps. It's just a brief time during the regular service where prayers are said and a little holy water is poured on his head, and he is annointed. I think it's a lovely ritual.

I was looking around the internet for something that might explain confirmation to any of you reading who are not familiar with that, and I came across an interesting discussion on a Roman Catholic message board, about whether or not a Roman Catholic should attend an Episcopal confirmation. I was sort of amused to read through it and realize even among Catholics today there seem to be some who view the Episcopal Church as heretic. "Go, but just observe and don't take communion" one person said. Several people said to go and then urge the Episcopalian to "come home to Rome." It amazes and sort of horrifies me that anyone today would feel that way. Then again, I remember attending a Catholic church with a friend not too many years ago and before communion it was announced that only Roman Catholics would be allowed to partake.

In the Episcopal church everyone who is a baptized Christian is welcome to take communion, no matter what denomination.

If you'd like more information about the Episcopal church, it's origins and practices, here is a terrific link to a web page put up by a church in Virginia that answers questions. Excellent page.

My view is pretty expansive. I don't think any particular denomination has a monopoly on salvation.

I often read Michael's textbooks to him, because he learns by listening. I was reading his science textbook to him yesterday, and he was lying on my bed. I was fascinated because they are studying the human body, and reading about the heart and how it functions has always been really interesting to me. Michael fell sound asleep. I finally noticed it, and I said "OK, then I am going to go downstairs and make dinner, and YOU are going to do your homework, and answer those questions, on your own." I didn't say it in a mean way, but I was a bit annoyed. He gets a solid 9 hours of sleep every night.

No other news, I'm afraid...