I Believe the Victims

While writing this blog entry - and I have been writing it for over a week now - I have been struggling.   I don’t like beating a dead horse and as readers of my blog, you know my struggle with the Catholic Church. I don’t like to make people uncomfortable. But, more than that, I hate seeing people in pain.  The Church sex abuse trial has started in Philadelphia and I have been in contact with survivors of sexual abuse by clergy.  Their stories are unbearable.  These survivors have lived through the most damaging and heart-wrenchingly, disturbing experiences imaginable.  All by priests whom they and their families loved and looked up to. These same priests continued to harm countless numbers of children. Even after they were caught by their superiors, who sent them for “treatment” and then assigned them to another unsuspecting parish.  The survivors are extremely strong individuals.  One man was abused when he was only 10 years old.  I think of the 10 year olds I know and shudder.  His abuse was not “alleged”  his abuse was documented and admitted to, by the priest/perpetrator. The Church decided to listen the victim only after the threat of going public.  That seems to be the only thing that makes the Church do anything; Money and Fear of Scandal.   A man who is now 35 struggles daily, sometimes hourly.  A wife of a survivor said that she and her husband go to support group meetings and sit in a roomful of survivors who will never tell anyone, except for in the safety of that group, about what happened to them.  They don’t want revenge or retribution.  They want to heal, move on and make sure no other child suffers the way they did. They all want one thing, to be believed.  

The trial of Monsignor Lynn and Fr. Brennan started on Monday, March 26th.  Days before this trial, the former “Father” Avery, pleaded guilty to raping a 10 year old in the sacristy and conspiring with Msgr. Lynn to hide his crimes.  This did not happen in the 60s, or the 70s, or the 80s, it happened in 1999.  It happened in a parish that Avery was moved to, by Lynn, after 17 years of previous accusations by victims.  Having read Grand Jury reports, this is the status quo when Msgr Lynn was approached by a scared and defeated victim.  There were so many that approached him NOT looking for money but only that the perpetrator would not hurt other children.  Some victims, after being so horribly violated by the Church, trying to maintain their faith, turned to Msgr Lynn to make it right.  Not with money or settlements or public humiliation, but just to make sure another innocent child was not victimized by those monsters.  He did nothing, or at the most, he did the very minimum.  He only did what was necessary to avoid scandal.   He is not alone in this.  There were many others above and below him that knew and did nothing, Cardinal Bevilaqua being one, Cardinal Rigalli being another. Both documented, some in their own writing, of the knowledge they had of the pedophile priests. The infamous list that was made up, by Msgr. Lynn of the 35 active priests who ADMITTED to sexually abusing children also noted, next to each name, whether the accuser could still sue!   Avoiding scandal is the common theme in the trial.  They did not care about the victims, they only cared about the scandal it would cause to the Church.  

I know it seems that I have a real bone to pick with the Church.  I know some readers will see these posts about their beloved Church and be angry, insist that I am stirring the pot and agitating the faithful.  Please know, that although I am angry at our Church and the way it has mishandled the perpetrators and victims, I am also hopeful that this will bring about major changes.  Changes that will allow many to come back into the fold of the Church community.  I am happy to see that 5 priests came forward to testify for the prosecution.  I am hopeful more good priests will be strong enough to stand up and say “No More!” I still have faith in that.  

The fact that many Church faithful turn a blind eye and don’t want to hear about the horrible things these monsters did to children and how these monsters were protected, is frustrating but understandable.  To believe these things about the people they hold in such high regard is, for some, quite impossible.  These victims are real, they are not only people that were abused in the distant past, each decade there are more victims. There are children being abused by priests right now.  Victims of childhood sexual abuse can take anywhere from 10 - 30 years to have the strength to admit they were abused.  The statistics go up for victims of clergy, teachers or pillars of the community.  So it may take them 20 - 40 years to report they were abused.  By this time the statue of limitations has run out and there is no chance for justice.  The other problem is, in that time, the amount of victims that have suffered is insurmountable.  The statistics also say that 88% of those abused will say nothing.... ever.  They remain silent and hidden under their shame.  Often they hide it with addictions.  Sometimes their brains protect them by developing mental disorders and disease.  Some take their own lives not knowing how to face it.  I guess my mission with these Church posts is to say that we are all damaged and hurt by these cases of the raping and sexual abuse of children.  Whether they be by priests or coaches or relatives.  We must believe the victims.  We must stand up for them, no matter how difficult or painful or uncomfortable.  The generation of keeping quite and pretending it does not happen has to give way to the generation of instant information and social networking.  This Church hierarchy can not remain so secretive and shrouded in mystery for much longer. 

The light of the truth has to shine bright on the hypocrisy.  The fact remains that the leaders of the Archdiocese of Philadelphia, for AT LEAST, the last 50 years have known of the predator priests in their midst.   They made the decision and concerted effort to protect their “brother priests” and ignore the cries of children.  Maybe it has to do with not having children of their own?  Maybe they hold children with the same disdain that they hold women?  Maybe they have no backbone to stand up for the innocent against the hierarchy? Any excuse is unacceptable.  Maybe we should hold these men accountable for their actions and start questioning EVERYTHING that they “teach” as moral?  How can a man who turned a blind eye to the depravity and pedophilia of his “brother priest”  tell me that I have sinned by missing Mass, let alone provide absolution to that sin?

Bait and Switch.... and Bait

“Wow, look at your ass!”

First thought was, what did I sit in?  Then I thought of the last time my hub said this.  Almost 9 years ago, when I was pregnant with our First Born.  After his comment, I looked in the mirror and said,  “WHOA!  What the hell?  Why didn’t you tell me it got this big?”  He responded, “I thought you knew.” 

So It was 7am on a Saturday and I was standing at the counter fixing my 3rd cup of coffee.  I turned to look him in the eye, and said “What about my ass?”  and.... now wait.... ladies, friends and fellow moms, please don’t think that my husband is the complete asshole he is about to sound like.  It is his own form of entertainment to have me completely lose my shit.  He says all these things with an adorable smile on his face and then waits for the storm.  I have learned to not cater to it and just role my eyes and laugh with him.  But this was not that kind of morning. 

“What about my ass?”   I said, in an - aren’t you starting a little friggin early today - tone.  He says, “NO, it looks hot. I mean it’s back.”  I respond, “What do you mean it’s back?” He said, “Your ass, pow, like the original bill of sale, when we first met.”  I had to put my eyes back in my head and restrain myself from getting the kitchen knife that was within my reach and carving out his tongue. My blood was seriously boiling and I said, “ORIGINAL BILL OF SALE?, Are you fucking kidding me?  You just said that?”  He was laughing now as he had achieved his mission and continued further with , “Yea, it was like bait, switch, bait.  We are back to bait, pretty nice.”  I was trying so hard to just laugh this off and see that he was trying to be funny with his backhanded complement. But I couldn’t. I mean he said ‘BILL OF SALE!... Bait switch bait!’  He thinks because he listens to Howard Stern, he is actually on the show! I had just had sex with him the night before too! I wanted to take it back!  

As I am typing this I have almost squashed this story about 5 times.  I so don’t want people thinking he is this big of a dick.  He really is a great guy.  You have to understand where we grew up.  The more you hammer someone, the more you verbally put them down and make fun of them, especially in a crowd,  it shows how much more you love them.  I am not saying it is healthy, but sometimes we revert back to it, because it is so much fun.  No, it really is fun and hysterical especially when we are with friends. Just not for me that morning.  

I had no response that would work without the kids catching wind of it.  I had already dropped the f-bomb and they were somewhat within earshot. I did not want to do further damage... to them.  He watched me turn about 3 different colors of red then I regained composure. Because I have been eating better and working out (not consistently, but getting there) I know that I am looking a little better. I am definitely feeling better about the way my clothes are fitting and not having to put on Spanx to walk out the door.  In what way could I use this to my advantage and make him eat his words?   

I smiled and sweetly said, “Thank you dear, I did not know you noticed.”  Then stared wistfully in the air (I actually forced myself to think of Johnny Depp, just to complete the effect)  He looked at me and slowly stopped laughing.  His eyes got wider as he watched me. Sheepishly he says, “Uh, so, uh, who are you trying to bait?”  

Ah, Touche! Mission Accomplished.

Proud, No..... Well rested, YES!

It was one of the best ideas I had ever had.  First Born was invited to his classroom friend’s birthday party at the local moonbounce/lazer tag/indoor playland germ factory.  Wait, don’t get me wrong, these places are genius and I have also used them for a couple of my sons’ birthday parties.  I mean what is better than having a party, where you don’t have to clean up before, during and after the party.  All you have to do is show up, bring the cake and watch them go nuts for 2 hours!  The kids love it and you are a guest at your own party.  I don’t knock it and I think these places are great. With that being said, when it is not YOUR kid’s birthday, they suck. I know, total double standard, but I gotta be honest.  

So First Born is invited to his friend’s party.  It is from 1pm to 3pm on a Saturday in January.  Normally I would go with him and stay to help out the parents in charge or just hang out with the other parents.  However, I did not know anyone at this party. I met the mom and dad at a back-to-school night but that was it.  I brought my son in and when I asked if I could stay and be of any help, they basically said, no and just to be back at 3pm for the pick-up.  Sounded good to me.  I grabbed my son, and had to hold his face in my hands so he would listen to me.

Me: “OK, here is the deal, is it ok if Mommy leaves and comes to get you when the party is over?”

First Born: (Looking at me like I have tusks) “Uh, yea!”

Me: “Pay attention, eyes here, you never leave this play area, you stay with the party, and if you have to go to the bathroom, you tell Mrs. New Friend and you go with a buddy. Look at my eyes, are you listening?”

First Born: “Yep, stay here, pee with a friend, tell Mrs. New Friend. Mooommmmm I am 8 years old!” 

Me: “OK I know, and you are a good boy. Now - eyes here! - Remember to say please and thank you and if there is an emergency,  what is my cell number?”

First Born: Rolling eyes “610-555-5555”

Me: “Very good, - hey, eyes HERE- are you sure you are ok with me leaving?” 

First Born: “MOMMMMM, all the kids are already playing, you can go!  Love you!” all this is said as he is running off.

OK, I double check with Mrs. New Friend and I head out to my minivan.  I start the car and start going over in my head all the things I can do with this new found 2 hours.  I have laundry that needs to be folded, our bathroom needs a good once over, the cat box needs to be cleaned, our yard needs to be cleaned of dog poop,  bed sheets need to be changed, etc. etc.  

As I am doing this I am yawning.  The Little One has been hijacking our bed at night on a regular basis and since it was extremely windy the night before, both Little One and First Born were scared and joined us in bed.  We live in a new construction type house and we also live on the area’s windiest hill, so when there is 50mph gusts, the whole house shakes.  I probably slept a total of 3 hours that night.

Then it hit me.  Hubs is not expecting me home.  I could just stay here.  I could get some sleep.  Oh, I was giddy!  I turned the car off, locked the doors and climbed into the back seat of the minivan.  It was very sunny so the car would remain warm.  The back of the van has tinted windows, so I was not easily seen.  I moved the various games, books, and jackets off the seat, used a sweatshirt as a pillow and covered myself with my coat.  I set the alarm on my cell phone for 15 minutes before I had to walk back in to get First Born.  I think I was asleep within 3 seconds.  I woke up on my own about one hour later, arm hanging off the seat, head lolling to the side with drool coming out of my mouth.  If someone looked into the car, they probably would have thought I was a dead body.  Luckily no one did, or if they did I did not know. I readjusted myself and fell back to sleep for the next 45 minutes, I even hit the snooze on the alarm.  

This may seem a bit ridiculous to most.  I mean I was 15 minutes away from my house that is fully equipped with my bed.  But this was the most peaceful uninterrupted sleep I have had in a long time.  There was no one calling me, no one climbing in next to me, no one yelling for me from another room, no one groping me, no phone calls to answer, no computer to look at, no door to answer; It was wonderful.   I did have some second thoughts about people seeing me and wondering if I lived in my car.  If you look in my car, it kind of looks as though someone could sustain themselves for at least a week, with the half eaten boxes of Animal Crackers, bags of Goldfish, and various half full bottles of water.  Not to mention the practical wardrobe of clothes.  But I must admit, at that moment I really did not care.  I was so excited that I was getting a nap that it just didn’t cross my mind for more than a minute.  

Immediately upon returning home I send my First Born into the shower to kill all the germs from the germ infestation.  My husband asked, with sympathy in his eyes, “So how bad was it?’  I hesitated.  I am not proud to say that it crossed my mind to lie and use this as some sort of leverage, since he got to stay home with our Little One while he napped and I had to go to the party.  I KNOW!  I am not proud.  BUT to my defense, I did tell him that I slept.  He looked at me and said “What?  You slept?  Where?”   I told him about my 2 hours in the car like I just cheated on him.  I did, I felt guilty.... for about 10 minutes.  He just looked at me and said “O.... Kay....” with a perplexed look on his face.  

See I know there are some out there who are right with me on this one.  I know for a fact that some of you have slept in your car, or in an office, or in a bathroom stall, and that you are all mothers.  We really don’t sleep like normal people.  As a mother, it starts off with late night feedings, infant rockings, diaper changes, that turn into late night, bad dream soothers, vomit fests, wet bed cleans, cough calmings, thunderstorm reassurances, fever checks, concussion interviews. Not to mention our own late night problems, like night sweats, getting up to pee because these damn kids ruined our bladder, sex since the kids need to be SOUND asleep before I can feel comfortable having sex and generally staying up late because it is the only time we have to ourselves.  For instance it is currently 11:47 pm. I should be sleeping, but I enjoy doing this, damn-it and I can’t concentrate on things I like doing when my children are awake. 

For my fellow mothers out there you know what I am talking about.  You understand what it means to get unexpected alone sleep.  Which is completely different than night time sleep.  We are still on the clock at night.  Mothering does not end when you close your eyes and turn off the light.  But when you are curled up in the back seat of your car and your husband is taking care of one and the other is being supervised only 100 feet away, well, you can sleep like a baby.    

Kony 2012

Kony 2012

Sexual Abuse, Lies, Money and the Archdiocese of Philadelphia

When trying to figure out what to write about, it had crossed my mind to expand further on the Rush Limbaugh thing.  I just don’t want to give him my time or energy.  Other than him having a radio show and reaching thousands, he is just another opinion with an asshole.  He deserves no more or no less.  I don’t like him so I don’t listen to him.  The only person who should and can have a beef with him is Sandra Fluke.  He attacked her personally so that is that.  Let them hash it out.  I really have no say in it, other than my little blog.  

The Archdiocese of Philadelphia has me pissed off again.  But that is nothing new.  I was sincerely happy to hear that there were many Catholic schools who won their appeals to the Archdiocese and will remain open. (Msgr. Bonner being a family favorite! GO GREEN!)  It is wonderful news for these hard working families who’s fears and concerns for their children’s futures weighed in the balance for the past month.  It is good that their anxieties and worries ended in relief.  At least for now.  

The question that has many of us jaded and suspicious wondering is: Did the Archdiocese pull a fast one on us?  Was this a huge cash pulling cow?  I mean the Archdiocese has some hefty expenses coming up  The many political fights like lobbying for the Educational Improvement Tax Credit (EITC or school vouchers).  The continued lobbying AGAINST Statute of Limitation Reform for victims of childhood sexual abuse. (Don’t believe me?  You can read about it here http://www.philadelphiaweekly.com/news-and-opinion/cover-story/138884039.html )  The continued lobbying against CIVIL same sex marriage.   How this affects them or us as Catholics I will never know.  The lobbying for ANY company to deny birth control health care coverage for woman.  Again, this is for anyone, not just Catholics.  And let us not forget the 100s of thousands they are paying the four criminal defense lawyers for Msgr Lynn in the upcoming sex abuse trial.  

By-the-way, if any of you doubt the credibility of the claims against Msgr Lynn, Rev. Brennan, or Edward Avery, please read the 2010 Grand Jury Report. http://www.phila.gov/districtattorney/PDFs/clergyAbuse2-finalReport.pdf  It is disturbing to say the least.  Please be warned that it is not for the faint of heart or anyone who may have been groomed and abused as a child.  

       The fact that has now come forward that further corroborates the Grand Jury’s findings seems almost out of a Dan Brown novel and the plot thickens.  On January 30, 2012, Philadelphia Judge Sarmina declared that Cardinal Anthony Bevilaqua was competent and could be called to testify at the child sex-abuse and endangerment trial of Msgr Lynn.  The next day Cardinal Bevilacqua died.    Within 2 weeks of his death new evidence is produced by the Archdiocese.  A 1994 memo written by Bevilacqua ordered a list that identified 35 Archdiocese of Philadelphia priests suspected of sexually abusing children be shredded and destroyed.  On this list were Lynn’s fellow defendants names.  Lynn who prepared this evidence in 1994, continued to assign these pedophile priests into and out of unsuspecting parishes.   The affected average in the thousands. This memo stating that the list be shredded along with the list itself, was hidden in a secret lock box by Msgr. James Molloy, former assistant vicar for administration.  Molloy was troubled by the lack of action by Lynn and Bevilacqua and hid this evidence.

Molloy is documented as saying, "I couldn't be sure that I could trust my superiors to do the right thing." 

So, he said, he became diligent about documenting his actions. "I wanted my memos to be there if the archdiocese's decisions were eventually put on the judicial scales.  This way, anyone could come along in the future and say, this was right or this wrong. But they could never say it wasn't all written down."  

Molloy died in 2006 and this lock box was opened and the evidence discovered.  It took the Archdiocese six years to turn over this evidence.  And they did so only in an attempt to get the case against Lynn dropped, siting that Lynn was only doing what he was told to do by a man (Cardinal Bevilacqua)... who is now dead.  

  

       Incidentally an otherwise healthy 60 year old Molloy was found dead, sitting up in his bed when he was late for 5:15 Mass on March 7, 2006.  This was shortly after he was interviewed and testified for the first Grand Jury report on the Philadelphia Archdiocese.  Here is that despicable report. http://media.philly.com/documents/grand_jury_report.pdf Again, this is a difficult read.   

One thing that I have heard many say in the wake of all this is to the effect of, ‘victims are lining up to get paid.’  There is no truth in this.  There are a lot of victims coming forward but they are coming forward for justice, and to make sure that these monsters can not hurt more children, not for money.  If they seek any money, it is to cover the years of extensive therapy that were and are needed.  They are coming forward to shine a bright light on the predators and co-conspirators who ruined their lives and murdered their souls.  

It pains me that the hierarchy is so deceitful and secretive.  It seems so archaic and medieval!  When you look at how they have mishandled the sexual abuse crisis, even AFTER they were called out on the carpet in 2006 and promised to make changes.  They continue to lie, hide and protect child rapists.  I can not comprehend it.  I know there are good priests out there.  I know they are as disgusted by this as the rest of us are.  If they would just start standing together and fighting the hierarchy they would have so much support.  They can help Catholics take back their Church.  

All of this begs the question:  If they can not stand up and fight for basic decency, if they can not be honest and transparent when dealing with men who rape children, how can we trust them with all this money that was raised for the Catholic Schools?   How can we trust that the millions of dollars that the parishioners raised from their already bruised and battered wallets will actually go to the schools that they were raised for?  How can we trust that the fate of the Catholic schools in Philadelphia was as bad as they stated?  How can we trust anything they say?  

My Walking, Talking Hearts

My life, although fulfilling and enjoyable is not all that exciting right now.  We are watching ‘Thomas’ and Percy just slammed into the cars.  My Little One is lying next to me on the couch and seems a bit out of it.  He went to bed much later than usual last night so I am hoping that he takes a nap today.  Naps rule!  There was a time when my life was nothing but excitement and fear. 

The Little One is not a difficult child.  For the most part, he is a real joy; very easy going, mild mannered, calm and happy. Little One was a premie and spent 18 days in the NICU.  He was always a calm, tolerant, smiling child even there.  My heart broke every time I had to leave him in that isolette, in that loud, beeping, active, alarming room.  He was so tiny and so helpless.  We were emotionally drained and exhausted and he would great us with a smile.  The nurses nicknamed him “Smilin’ Sam.”  I think he was only 4 days old when he first smiled at us.   I called him my hero.  His strength and determination and joy were more than I could muster on most days.

He hated the tubes in his nose and at times would figure out a way to pull them out.  There was a time when I was there and watched as the nurses had to put the feeding tube back in his nose, down his throat and into his belly.  Then they had to reattach the cpap and put in another IV.  He was so tiny and the veins so small that they needed to put the IV into a vein in his scalp.  I was sitting there, in physical pain, emotionally drained, and quietly crying, trying not to make any noise.  I just wanted to hold him, but had to wait until they were done.  They asked me if I was ready to take his temperature and weigh his diaper, like I did every day.  I quietly and sadly just shook my head, no.  The nurse looked at me and said.  “C’mon, you can do it.”  So I stood up and fighting the tears and exhaustion, I held the thermometer under his tiny arm, with my other hand on his chest and belly.  I looked at my little guy who just looked so defeated after struggling with getting the tubes back in him and the leads stuck back on his silk-like skin.  He was wide awake and looked at me.  I said “Hey there Angel Face!” and he looked at me and cracked a smile.  I almost lost it, but did not want to ruin the moment.  I continued to talk to him, telling him about how much I loved him and that he would be home with his big brother, daddy and me real soon.  I told him that the monitors and tubes would all go away and it would be up to him to eat, breath, maintain his temperature, and his bilirubin.  I told him that that was a big job, so he had to be patient and the doctors would know when he was ready.  After I weighed his diaper and redressed him, I could hold him and try to feed him.  He was too small to latch on to me, so I gave him a bottle of my milk.  He tried so hard, then just fell asleep in my arms.  My little Angel Face.  

Those days went on forever.  Those 18 days seemed infinitely longer than the 9 weeks previous that I spent on hospitalized bed rest trying to keep him in my belly. The NICU is a surreal and alien place.  It is not a place I want to ever encounter again.  My NICU baby was so much better off than a lot of the beautiful babies in there.  My heart ached for all of them.  Seeing them every day then not seeing them, never asking if they went home or to a different unit or the unthinkable.  The parents and caregivers who we would see scrubbing in before going in, all looked like we did.  Nervous, tired, angry, perplexed, and sad, so deeply, deeply sad.  

NICU or not, words don’t express the feelings I have for my children.  Words are not adequate and they are almost insulting.  My boys are my life. Not in the sense that I don’t have my own life, but in the sense that I gave each of them part of me, which is life.  I sustained them in my body and they take that sustenance with them when they leave my body.  I still feel like that part of them is me. 

When my First Born was little and even now, he has always had an abundance of energy.  We never sat.  He needed constant entertainment.  I have two very different boys.  First Born son was a healthy baby.  But since he was our first born, we treated him like a fragile egg.  We worried over the silliest of things, constantly checking, monitoring, listening and evaluating.  My poor boy is such an independent natured child that, this is probably the reason that as an infant, he screamed every evening from 5pm to 11pm. It might have been his way of saying, “Will you back off!! I AM FINE! Just let me be a baby!”   Now he is an active, high energy, low attention span, artistic and athletic 8 year old.  He likes to play outside, morning, noon and night.  He will be in the driveway and backyard and go from basketball, to hockey, to riding his bike, to baseball, to soccer, to throwing a frisbee, to playing army in his fort, all in about the span of an hour.  He is a riot and a joy and all of the energy I used to have.  

My little premie is still a peanut.  He is 27 lbs. soaking wet and will be 4 years old in May.  He is healthy and happy and makes us laugh.  He adores his older brother and will do anything just to be near him.  He is calm, easygoing, and accommodating.  He likes to play games like Uno Moo and build his Thomas tracks.  He does not like taking chances or being daring.  He takes his time and likes to help cook.  He loves gadgets like his daddy’s iphone, ipod and laptop. He awakes in the middle of the night and ever so quietly climbs into our bed and snuggles in.  He hardly moves when he sleeps and is still so tiny that it is the most comfy feeling in the world.  This will have to stop someday, but I have not started to tackle that yet. Mostly because I don’t want to. He speaks very well and when he looks at you with those big blue eyes, unless your heart has shriveled up, you will say yes to anything he asks.  He has an amazing sense of humor and comedic timing for such a young boy and is such a love.  

Right now I am spending the most time with the Little One since he is not in school yet.  I am really enjoying it.  Don’t get me wrong there are days when I am ready to throw “Thomas the Tank Engine’ out the window and if I hear another Disney Movie theme song I will scream.  But for the most part, I am loving every minute of time with my Little One and he seems to be enjoying it too.  I don’t need excitement.  I don’t need fear or anxiety. I don’t need to be constantly busy or worried.  There are times when some may think me too laid back.  I don’t clean my house like it should be, I don’t (as I have said many times before) stay on top of the laundry.  I don’t run my kids around to different activities.  I am sure this will change and flux as life does, but for now I am perfectly content with snuggling up with my Little One and watching my animated First Born tell me about his day.   

It is such a cliche and a facebook post but,

“Being a mother is to decide forever to have your heart go walking around outside your body.”- Elizabeth Stone
It is so true.  We can’t prepare for it.  We can’t control it and we can’t even predict it.  It is this love that makes me think that I can do anything in the world.  My boys seem to be the proof of my existence and the proof of power that I possess.  

Roman Catholic Bishops, Contraception and Hypocrisy

I can keep my mouth shut no longer.  Yea, I know, for those of you that know me, that is a funny statement.  First let me say, I hate offending people and I really don’t like pissing people off, especially friends who’s beliefs are different than mine.  With that being said,  if you don’t like what I am saying, click off.  I mean go back to whatever you were doing before reading this blog.  Skip this one.  Forward it on to people who think like you so that they can pray for my lost soul.  

You all should know by now my religious stance. If not read this Let's Start With Something Heavy and Controversial: Roman Catholicism   and this, Back To The Catholic Guilt and even this  More Catholic Frustrations and Daily Life.  Ok we all caught up?  Good.  The most recent Roman Catholic controversy is over the Health and Human Services mandate that states that employers must provide contraception through their healthcare plans.  The Catholic Bishops went ape shit over this; complaining that it is against their beliefs, and to be forced to pay for contraception would be an infringement on their religious freedom.  They and every other right wing conservative jumped on this bandwagon and cried fowl.  So President Obama presented them with a compromise.  The Catholic organizations that have employees will NOT have to pay for contraception.  The insurance companies will be on the hook for those services and offer them for free.  Done.  Sounds reasonable.  The Bishop’s original argument was that it was unfair to make them pay for services they found morally wrong.  OK so now you don’t have to.  Bill Moyers explains it so eloquently here.  http://billmoyers.com/content/bill-moyers-essay-freedom-of-and-from-religion/  

Apparently this was not good enough according to Archbishop Chaput. Don’t even get me started on their “reasoning” behind not wanting to allow birth control.  They are holding it akin to abortion!  Really, conception begins at erection now?  Really? Here is his whole whinny tirade regarding the president’s accommodation to the Church.  

http://catholicphilly.com/2012/02/archbishop-chaput/current-hhs-mandate-is-not-a-real-compromise/    He is basically saying, you gave us what we asked for but not what we really want.  We don’t want contraception to be available to our employees, period, regardless of their beliefs.  Better yet, we don’t think that ANY employer should have to fund ANY service, drug or procedure that they find morally wrong.  What kind of hypocritical can of worms are they opening up?   

So if my husband’s employer decides he does not think that blood transfusions are morally right, because he is a Jehovah’s Witness, are we going to have to pay for our own blood transfusion out of pocket?  If my employer is a devout Christian Scientist am I going to have to pay for all of my healthcare out of pocket? If an employer is a devout worshiper of the Blue Man Group and they believe that everything is fixed with blue paint, will their employees be made to paint themselves blue instead of getting an antibiotic? Are you friggin kidding me?  What the fuck do these celibate, unmarried, MEN know about what my MEDICAL FEMALE NEEDS are?  

I would have gladly invited the entire HHS mandate panel that testified, (here is a visual. Just so you know, they all have penises) to sit in on the pregnancy and birth of my last baby.  Since they did not let me recap.  

I suffered from placenta previa and was bleeding profusely therefore forced to bed rest. I spent 9 weeks in the hospital on bed rest fighting to keep the lil guy inside my belly.  After 9 weeks and they could not stop the bleeding they had to deliver my son.  Before they could cut open my belly, they had to put a stint in my femoral artery, (with no numbing or anesthesia) to cut off the blood supply to my uterus so that I would not bleed to death while they were delivering the baby.  This process was more excruciating than they had imagined it to be and I had to be held down by 3 nurses (2 of them were male.) After they did the c-section and my baby was taken directly to the NICU, because he was so small and unable to breath, the surgeon was unable to tie my tubes because of the damage that she needed to repair before closing me up.  My uterus and placenta were fused and she had to dissect the placenta which was completely covering the cervix, from my uterine wall then sew me up as fast as she could.  After she was done, she leaned over the curtain that separated my face from my body and with a sweat stained mask and hat she said, and I quote “Do NOT get pregnant again!  If you do, you or your baby will most likely die.”    So if they were sitting in on that part of my life maybe they would understand the importance of birth control in my future.  But I doubt it.  

I am so fired up by all of this. The Bishops and their cronies go to Washington and they are not only spending money (where do you think they stayed when in DC?  Where did they eat? How did they get there?)  and time, but voracious energy and commitment. They are giving to this NON issue more fervor and more gravity than anything I have seen them do in the past.  They call us cafeteria Catholics.  HA! Where was their righteous indignation and fury when their fellow priests were raping children?  Where were they when groups Justice4pakids.org were and still are trying to lengthen the statute of limitations for victims of childhood sexual abuse.  OH that’s right, they were right there ON THE OPPOSING SIDE.  To make sure that victims were NOT given that justice. 

Where are these Bishops when the poor and hungry are being pushed aside by the the ultra wealthy conservatives who think, they are not MY problem. Hell, they are so close to these right wing conservative rich men who would rather take away my right to birth control than lend a hand to a homeless person. Why aren’t the Bishops up in arms over people who have and don’t bother to give?  Oh and Catholic organizations have been providing health care coverage for viagra and vasectomies.  Why aren’t the most Reverend Bishops putting a stop to that?

OH why oh why do I get so fired up about this?  Am I really able to change anything?  I made the stupid mistake of trying to comment on the Archbishop’s Weekly address that I posted above.  I was respectful yet firm.  In the string of comments, these “Christian Catholics” called me “wrong” “hypocritical” “smug” “annoying” “self-exalting” I was accused of “obtusely refusing to accept the teachings of the Church” and my priorities were brought into question.  Why did I bother to go back there and read all those comments?  Why did I bother to try to restate my points?  I guess I just felt the need to be put down and called names.  

But this is my blog now and I get the final word.  Hey Bishop’s, here is my plea, here is my cry, Get your red capped heads out of your asses and start working towards spiritually leading your congregation!  You are not doctors, scientists, or politicians.  You are not the hand of God.  You were called to be HUMBLE servants of Christ.  You say you believe in God, you say that God created us in His image.  So if we are all created in God’s image and we all have God given brains, let us think for ourselves.  Better yet, let the people who study science and medicine use the brains that God gave them to help us.  Use your brains to help us find peace and spread goodwill and love!  Why am I talking to these idiots?  It is fruitless.  So there it is.  I have more, but I am spent. I don’t want to be angry.  

I have a good life.  I have beautiful children, a wonderful husband, a great family and amazing friends. But my parents brought us up to stand up when you see something wrong, and if you can, do something about it. They told us to defend those that are being hurt or oppressed.  It is what they told me that Jesus did.  My teacher, Sr. Carmela Anne IHM in St. Alice told me that Jesus promoted love, tolerance and stood up to hypocrisy.  Even if you don’t believe in God or Jesus, it is a really good way to live.  I just wish there was a Church out there that got it.  

Facebook Junkie

Facebook..... Ahhh facebook. I dabble in Pintrest which is satisfying to an extent, but facebook is my drug of choice.  I check out what people are doing, saying, thinking, fighting for, fighting against, arguing with.  This is my favorite; reading the facebook fights that people have, usually over religion or politics or Joe Paterno or Whitney Houston.  I relish in watching them fight to a fever pitch only to de-friend each other.  I love seeing the posts about how people have been de-friended.  I am so sure that I have been de-friended, but, honest to God, I really have no idea when it happens!

I have de-friended people, but I am sure it was no big trauma to them, they were usually people who had over 600 friends and did not communicate with me at all. Or, I was friends with them in high school and now they just scare me and I had to stop looking at their posts.  I tend to really like my fb friends.  I know them, have met them in person, or used to know them personally.  Most of them I have come to know better. Some were just casual friends in high school who have become better friends since reconnecting, which makes sense.  I did not make the best choices when I was a teenager, and seeing people for who they really are is something that comes with age.  Being the person you truly are also comes with age.  SO it makes perfect sense to connect with someone more now whom you may have just hung out with at high school parties than some whom you hung out with all the time.  

I love that I have connected with family members.  Cousins and the like who, when we were kids, we used to be together for EVERY holiday, birthday, wedding or funeral.  Then someone stopped talking to someone else, or the families just got too big, or it just became too much effort and it all stopped.  Those connections are special to me.  The other connections are the ones that surprise you.  I became friends with one of my husband’s work buddies and, honest to God, he and his wife are two of the funniest people I have ever met and I look forward to their posts every day.  We have so much in common it is scary.  

I like reading the crazy political posts too.  The crazy right wing politics annoy me just as much as the crazy left wing politics.  If you have seen my other posts, I think you can tell where I stand.  I know many would consider me a liberal, but I have to say that the conspiracy theories on both sides are ri-god-damn-diculous.  I love hearing people go off on one side or the other and then calling my friends and saying “hey did you see, so-and-so, completely blow their top on so-and-so?”  I can’t consider it gossip, if they are putting it all out there like that, right?   

The thing that is the most difficult is I gotta get off this goddamn facebook!  It is great for somethings but it can become a bit much.  I tend to have an OCD personality with certain things and facebook and OCD go together like PB&J.  As a matter of fact the internet itself is an OCDer’s wet dream.  Any and all information that you need on any given subject is at your fingertips.  I have searched for the best prices for everything from plane tickets to vacation rentals to dishwasher detergent.  (See, I like to use Seventh Generation dishwasher detergent, because not only is it environmentally friendly but it makes my dishes cleaner than anything I have ever used.  It is not cheap so I tend to buy it in bulk so I can get it cheaper)  I have also research every childhood milestone, illness and learning technique there is so that I am always prepared.  See what I mean?  I will obsess about something and exhaust myself until I find the answer.  Another drug preference, if you will! 

When you are home all the time like me, facebook can become the only form of social outlet.  Which is very sad and kind of embarrassing.  But hey, it is easier to turn on the lap-top, scratch your ass in your pajamas at 11:17pm and catch up with people, than to get out the door with 2 kids, a dog and a husband and gather with people you may or may not want to deal with.  I mean with facebook you don’t HAVE to.  You can just catch up with the ones you WANT to.  They may be there catching up with you at the same time you or they may not feel like dealing with you right now and they will get back to you when they do!  It is kind of a beautiful thing.  The people I talk to on the phone or in person on a regular basis are my good friends who will be in my life with or without facebook.  (One of them actually is not on facebook at all. I know crazy, right?)  

I do have some facebook crushes.  Not in the romantic sense!  Don’t go crazy here.  I mean, I am straight and my facebook crushes are mostly women.  I mean “crushes” in the vein of facebook friends whom I would love to get closer to, to the point of phone calls or physical get-togethers.  But I don’t want to be a crazy stalker.  If it happens great, if not so be it.  I guess my overall take on facebook is, like anything, it can be used for good or evil. Take everything in moderation.  I know that if I am not communicating with my family because I have to check facebook, that is a real problem.  But if I use it as a social outlet after the hubs and the kids are asleep, why not enjoy? No harm, no foul,  I mean it’s not like I am blogging all the time!  

THE SIMPLE JOYS OF MY BOYS

• sticky syrup kisses
• belly laughs at the Marx Brothers/Three Stooges/Abbott and Costello
• pure excitement when daddy walks in the door
• pure joy over spending time with Nana and PopPop
• when one makes the other laugh
• when one comforts the other
• when they team up to be mischievous
• watching their concentration when painting/drawing/coloring
• seeing their pride in their creations
• bed head
• energy filled runs in no direction whatsoever
• long talks about their day/interest/fears/concerns
• being able to comfort them with a hug or snuggles
• watching them care for/play with the dog/cat
• watching their shared fascination with trains
• sticky peanut butter and jelly kisses
• seeing the little one mimic the bigger one who mimics his father
• seeing old pictures of myself/my husband/family members, that look like them
• watching the affinity they have for certain stuffed animals/toys
• Belly laughs
• secretly watching them play act or pretend play
• watching their excitement when they play with their friends
• seeing them drift off to sleep
• putting them to bed after a long day 
• seeing how content they are to be home after a vacation
• hearing them use new words that I did not even think they knew
• hearing the words they make up
• seeing their passion and investment in Philadelphia sports teams 
• pushing them on a swing
• sliding with them down a slide
• going on an amusement ride with them
• milk mustache kisses
• when I make them laugh
• seeing their joy when they make me laugh
• seeing their joy when it snows
• seeing their joy when they see the ocean
• seeing their joy when they see a bird/airplane/stars/moon/kite
• their excitement over playing with a balloon
• watching them interact with friends 
• their wonder
• their faces on Christmas morning
• their faces when blowing out birthday candles
• hearing them say a prayer
• seeing them have concern for others
• clean smelling, after bath kisses
• unexpected hugs
• when they hold my hand (and I don’t tell them to)

There are many things they do on a regular basis that make me smile, laugh, cry, think and wonder “How did I get so lucky to have these little blessings in my life?”  Please feel free to comment and add your own. I would love to hear them

Almost 40 and I don't give a shit.

As I enter my 40th year of life there are some things that I have come to realize.  First, I don’t give a shit.  And I mean that in the best possible way.  There are so many things that used to bother me that I really could not care less about now.  It has become very freeing.  I really don’t care about what others think of me.  I mean I never want to hurt anyone and I would very much take into consideration if you have a personal gripe or concern. I am open to changing my ways for the greater good.  However, I can’t be hurt by other’s opinions of me.  They are entitled to it and I respect that.  And hey, they may be right!  It is not my call.  But at the end of the day I can put my head on the pillow and fall right to sleep. 

Often times other’s criticisms are more a reflection of them than of who they are judging.  Judging is another thing I can’t be bothered with anymore. Don’t get me wrong, there are times I still find myself judging another. But I am learning that you really don’t know where another person has been in their lives or how they got to the point of being that bat-shit-crazy person standing in front of you. To people that are mean, nasty or disrespectful, I am learning to walk away from with a “Good luck and God Bless.”  I can not let that into my life.  This is an easy process if I don’t know you that well, but when it is someone who I know well or am related to, it takes a special kind of strength that I am still working on.  As far as the “I don’t give a shit” statement made in the first paragraph, this is where I have to learn how to do that with people in my inner sanctum!    

I do believe that I have stopped worrying about things that are out of my control.  I can not control the way others feel.  Period.  I can not control the way others act. Period.   The only control I have is how I react to situations, people and events.  I have the power to respond in a negative way or a positive way.  There are still many times that I do not react the best way possible but I am working on it. I have to start working in my own best interest.  Not in a selfish or greedy way, but in a healthy boundaries sort of way.  When I don’t want to do something that everyone and their mother seems to be telling me to do.  I don’t have to.  If they then want to throw in an “I told ya so,”  so be it.  It is no skin of my back that they have obsessed over MY decision until the outcome arrives.  As a matter of fact, that makes them kinda crazy, not me.  

The constants in my life, my family and very close friends are my hub and my joy. When I allow people into that space I do not take it lightly.  People that are close to me are my ‘safe zone’, that I do not extend to everyone.  In a general sense I like people, and I feel compelled to listen to their stories and share some of mine (obviously!) Sometimes the person and I just “click.” Other times there is no connection, but I no longer feel the obligation to find a connection. I usually walk away from them with a better sense of who I am or what I want in my life.  And that can not be bad thing. There are others who are just plain coo-coo-ka-choo and I will write an entire blog about them later!  

I have learned that being nice to people is really easy and it does not mean sacrificing who I am or what I want. My doing something for someone does not have to directly affect a return to me.  I am learning to do things for others because I WANT to, not because I expect praise, recognition, love or appreciation in return.  When I do things for others with this in mind it is more fulfilling and freeing than I ever imagined.  Because once you have given to another, it is done.  You feel good and you can move on.  You don’t have to wait for the return or even the reaction.  If you do for others with your best intentions and they don’t appreciate it, that is fine.  They don’t HAVE to appreciate it, because you did it out of love and nothing else.   

I guess what I am getting at is those old cliches of “life is too short,”  “carpe diem,” “live life to it’s fullest,” etc. etc.  No one really knows when things will change or end or become different.  I was in a horrible car accident in 2006. My injuries were extensive and life altering. I had initially had a lot of sadness, anger and frustration mostly because my son, who was only 2 at the time, was deprived of his mother as he knew her for at least 6 months.   My husband was also deprived of his wife and had to assist me in everything from getting me in and out of bed to shaving my legs to wiping my ass, literally.  I just wanted my life, as I knew it, back.  I was going along happy with my life and in an instant it was all taken away from me.  I wanted to blame something, someone. I no longer feel that way and am extremely thankful.  Now I can focus on what the accident taught me.  It can all be taken away.  Yes, It can all be taken away too quickly and without warning.  There is no room for drama when you look at it like that.  

I am trying to learn that have to make my own happiness and it is not dictated to me.  Kindness matters and the more you give the more you will get.  Maybe not directly or immediately but it will come.  So these are some of the things I have learned in my 39 years and 6 months on this earth.  Now if I could just figure out how to maintain my laundry.....

Sex and Communication... who needs it....I DO!

I have a wonderful husband whom I adore.  No seriously, he is a friggin riot and makes me laugh every single day.  We really get along pretty good and like spending time together.  I miss him. Oh, don’t get me wrong he lives here with me and does not travel or go anywhere.  He works somewhat normal hours. Some days are better than others but he is usually gone for about 10 hours a day.  When he is here, there is so much going on and a lot to do: dinner, homework, baths, bedtime, etc.  On the weekends, there is always something going on.  We always say we are going to spend time together after the kids go to bed.  But we are in a rut of having to sit in the 3 year old’s bedroom until he falls asleep and then escorting him back into the bed every few hours throughout the night. The 8 year old is jealous of the 3 year old and wants attention too.   When the kids are finally asleep, one of us is usually asleep also.  

My husband gets up really early for work so in the evening he falls out pretty early.  It gets so bad sometimes that we forget to tell each other things that have happened to us throughout the week.  We spend a lot of time catching each other up on our individual lives.  When we do try to have conversations the children are a real pain in the ass.  Their father’s attention is a hot commodity in this household.  They will do anything to be near him, talk to him, play with him, impress him, or just be in his presence.  This makes for difficulties when he and I try to talk.  If he hugs or kisses me in their presence, they laugh, attack us and yell at me to “get off daddy!”  He does enjoy spending time with them and if I am in a "mood," he would RATHER spend time with them.  That works out nicely because I am usually in a “mood” BECAUSE of them.

The hubby and I want to spend some quiet time together having a grown ass conversation without having to censor ourselves. You know the conversation when you have to speak of people in code names, hold back true feelings (i.e. cursing) or completely postponing the the topic.  I can’t tell you how many times the we say to each other.  “Holy shit, remind me to tell you what so and so said/my boss did/what I saw/what Howard Stern was talking about.”   Then we usually forget or just don’t have the energy to talk about it later.  

All you ever hear is how important communication is in a relationship.  Yea, do these people have any suggestions as to how to do this with kids?  I know I have heard, “schedule time together.”  How does that help with the kids always up our ass?  Should we lock them, the dog and the cat in a room and let them fend for themselves so we can communicate?  I am not about to get a babysitter, because I don’t want to GO anywhere.  I don’t want to have to get dressed and spend money that we don’t have just to talk.  

I have not even mentioned sex yet!  I miss sex, we both do!  Whoever said that women can go without it and not have a problem, weren’t doing it right.  It IS a problem.  The hubby and I usually have high aspirations early in the day.  Giving each other looks like, ‘Oh you just wait.’  The hubby will clean up or make dinner (this is foreplay in my book.)  Then by the time the day is over and the kids are finally asleep.  We look at each other and instead of ‘Oh you just wait’ it is more like “Oh, yeah, you...... ((big sigh)) can you just wait?”  I mean sometimes I can rally.  But other times we just smile and say, “Oh well.  Let’s try again tomorrow.”  

It is like exercising.  I love to work out, it makes me feel good, during and after.  It is the motivation to get started that causes problems.   Then the act itself involves a lot of preparation.  First I have to make sure the kids are sound asleep.  I sneak down the hall and close their doors, then we have to close and lock our door.  Then and only then can anything happen and that is somewhat stifled, if you know what I mean.   Remember spontaneous sex?  No, neither do I.  It was long ago and far away.  We keep talking about getting away together for a long weekend.   Even then there is concern. There was a time when hotel sex was hot, now it just kinda skeeves me thinking about who was doing what, when and where in that room.  I am always checking for bed bugs and spraying lysol all over everything.  I know.... I am a little up tight..... There is a REASON for that!!!!  HELP! Anyone else out there struggling with this.... anyone.... anyone..... Bueller?