Institutional Cover-ups of Child Sexual Abuse - Can It Be Stopped?

http://macleodcartoons.blogspot.com/2011/11/penn-state-and-catholic-church.html

Do children matter?  In the larger society, do they have a purpose or a place?  I hate that I have to ask these questions.  But thanks to the Sandusky trial/Penn State scandal and the Msgr Lynn trial/Catholic Church scandal, I am forced to question.  What value do children have?  What is it about them that discredits their needs and protection? 

But as I write this, I realize a commonality between the two big cases I mentioned.  The cultures of both institutions have an all male hierarchy.  I am not a man hater.  I actually love the men in my life.  I even produced two future men.  And with that in mind, I don’t believe that any society can thrive or function without equally male and female leadership.  No institution that is powered by one gender can thrive and be complete.  The Catholic Church which is so powerful, has all men at the top.  The same can be said for large universities’ football programs.  These football programs are the lifeblood of these schools.  They bring in major profits to the schools and they are tax-exempt.  Money and power go hand in hand in both these institutions.  

I want children to be protected.  I want children to be safe.  I want children to be valued.  In these institutions they were not.  The men who allowed Jerry Sandusky to rape children for over 14 years, not only did nothing, but HELPED him continue to do it.  There is a very comprehensive article in The Philadelphia Inquirer here. The first line of the article says it all:

“Three days after Mike McQueary saw Jerry Sandusky molesting a boy in a shower in 2001, two top administrators at Pennsylvania State University had begun to craft a plan:They would not notify authorities.”

This instantly shows the callous disregard for the child who was raped.  Even if - and this is a BIG if - they thought it was just “horseplay” - between a 50 something year old man and a 10 year old boy, who were both naked and alone, showering together - Penn State officials had the duty, the right and the authority to report it to child protective services and the police. Or at the very least, try to find out the identity of the poor boy.  They chose to avoid scandal. (How’s that working out for ya?)  The paper trail is there, in black and white; Paterno knew, Spainer knew, Curley knew, they did nothing of value.  Not one of them worried about that scared 10 year old boy forced to be naked in the shower with a dirty old man.  Not one of them worried about the countless other victims.  They worried instead about the money. If they lost the money they would lose the power.  That very same power that they used to sweep the incident under the rug.  

Now Penn State is being punished.  Sounds about right.  Although, the students are taking a huge brunt of this scandal and that is not entirely fair.  The students or the football players for that matter, really have nothing to do with this.  Maybe we should stop having these huge for-profit, tax exempt, football programs that also provide college education.  Maybe college should be about learning and then we can allow the NFL and the NBA sponsor teams at the schools, like a minor league. Then the school can still have it’s big football and sell tickets to the game but the money goes to education, not recruiting and funding football.  I don’t know.  Maybe that is a ridiculous idea.  Maybe that is coming from someone who did not attend a traditional 4 year college.  I am just trying to figure a way to follow the money which leads to the power, which needs to be eliminated in order to protect children in large institutions.  

Msgr. Lynn was sentenced to 3-6 years for endangering the welfare of a child. Here is a very compelling letter to the judge regarding the case.  It is from Dr. Bob Fisher.  He was raped and molested by Fr. Avery in 1982. (Fr. Avery plead guilty of raping a 10 year old boy in the sacristy at St. Jerome’s Parish in 1999)  Dr. Fisher went to Msgr. Lynn in 1992 to make sure that no other child would be hurt by Fr. Avery.  He did not ask for money or retribution, or vindication.  He simply wanted to protect innocent children.  Msgr. Lynn did not help him to do that.  Msgr. Lynn was told by Dr. Fisher in 1992 that Fr. Avery was a child rapest. Msgr. Lynn hid that truth and then 7 years later, Fr. Avery was caught raping again.  

Hiding the truth is what seems to be the problem.  A prime example in going back to the Penn State case, is the University’s decision to remove the Joe Paterno statue. The decision was dumped onto the lap of Penn State President Rodney Ericksson.  The Board of Trustees did not want to make that call.  Nor did they want an OPEN and honest discussion of ways to handle the situation. So Penn State’s president said “take it down.”  Here is how they did it.  They went in, hidden in the dimness of an early Sunday morning, behind a large fenced off area, covered by huge blue tarps.  They draped the statue and removed it from its foundation and scurried it away.  Please people, don’t pay attention to the men behind the curtains.  Let’s just pretend this did not happen and the large 900 lb. statue was never there.  Isn’t that what started this whole thing?  Stop trying to “handle” situations and start dealing with them.  Deal with them in a public forum, out in the open, for all to see.  This was a big FAIL for the Penn State Board of Trustees.  

The problem as I see it, is the failure to expose the truth.  The hidden agendas that obscure people’s visions.  The dysfunctional family of the  “Brotherhood” of priests who chose to ignore their fellow brothers who touch kids.  The powerful bishops, archbishops and cardinals who put their flock on a “need to know” basis on everything from where our collection plate money is going, to where the new parish priest came from, to why a priest is being removed from ministry.   The power hungry pimps of athletes who use the talent of college students to further their careers and expand their revenue.  The power that comes from fame and wealth and “winning” that clouds judgement and distorts morals.   And finally all those who blindly follow and support these men after they are exposed for who they really are.  

Depression

Depression sucks ass.  I hate it with every fiber of my being.  It creeps up like a fucking python.  At first, it’s hug is a familiar comfort. It stays that way for long enough for me to be content with it and carry it with ease.  Then it ever so slightly starts to squeeze.  Not enough for me to be afraid, just a bit annoyed. As I walk with that annoyance it continues it’s patient and relentless tightening.  Meanwhile I am starting to realize that I am taking this annoyance out on those around me, followed by the heart wrenching guilt that they are suffering because of me.  Then, when I am tossing and turning at night or am busying myself so that I don’t have to face sleep, or when I am fighting back tears at commercials, it has me.  

My life - the one I worked so hard to get and even harder to keep - is slowly being squeezed out of me.  This is where the rage comes in.  This is where that filthy constricting snake angers me to no limit.  I start to hate. Rage. Panic. Hate. Everything is against me.  Everyone is against me.  Everyone I know and love has something I don’t.  Peace.  No one can see the snake.  No one can release it.  I unleash my rage on the inside, trying with all that I am, not to let it out on my loves.  I don’t want it to touch those I love.  I unleash my rage inside which is what the snake wants.  It feeds slowly off of this rage and grows.  It makes me it’s slave. It’s host.  As I unleash more rage and anger it grows and tightens and grows and tightens.  I need help. No one can know. No one will understand. I must be in control. I am losing. I am suffocating.  

I stop.  I sit.  I breathe. I recognize. I cry.  Let go of the anger.  It is not my fault.  I did not invite the beast.  I did not recognize it at first.  It is not my fault.  I will not allow it to feed on my anger.  I will no longer supply it.  

I stop. I sit. I breathe. I have so much going for me.  I am surrounded by beauty and love and acceptance.  This was not always the case, but it is where I am right now. I can not dwell in the past nor worry about the future.  I am here - now.  

I have the love of my life.  That love between he and I have created even greater loves.  Those precious ones are the most wonderful additions to my life.  They are happy.  They are healthy.  They are life.  They are deserving of all of me.  I am deserving of all of me.  Depression does not deserve even a morsel of me.  

I know I need help.  I remember that there is medication that helps.  I am supposed to take it every day and I have been forgetting.  The only time I don’t need to take it is when I am exercising every day and I have not been exercising.   

I stop. I sit.  I breathe. I take my 75mg of Zoloft.  I make a plan.  Even on vacation, I will exercise, even if it is just walking.  When I feel the anger, when I feel like I have to “correct” someone or something, when I feel the need to anticipate a problem, when I start to become complacent with the smallest tightening I will stop. 

I stop. I sit. I breathe.  I will not beat myself up if I don’t stick to my plan, but I will try.  

I will stop. I will sit. I will breathe. I will appreciate. I will feel the love.   


**Addendum: I have been receiving a lot of great feedback from this piece.  Thank you so much for all the love.  I must also add that in addition to exercise and medication I also have an amazing therapist.  I do not see her regularly, but I go in for "tune-ups" now and again.  I truly believe in therapy.  An independent, unbiased ear is essential.  Thank you all again for reading.**

Hero Worship

When I started writing this piece, I really had intended it to go in a completely different direction than it wound up. I was going to focus on people and things that pissed me off. People that got on my nerves. It turns out those people are ME!  I guess it has taught me that I don’t have to fix everything. I don’t have to be the hero.  Can you relate?  Please....

Know what I hate?  Hymning and hawing.  Wishy-washy.  Passive aggressive.  (although, at times, passive aggressive can be pretty funny to watch)  I hate when someone wants something but does not ASK for it.  Like when my grandmother, whom I love dearly, will sit there and say,

“Oh, it is such a hot day out.” (pause)  “You just can’t seem to quench your thirst on a day like this.” (level look) (pause)  “I wish this weather would break.” (glare) (pause)  “My throat feels so scratchy with this dry heat.”  (fanning herself) (she is the Italian Blanche Du Bois) Then, when I take the bait, and offer her some water, she will protest.  “No, no, don’t trouble yourself, you are so busy just sitting there.”  

Why wouldn’t she just say “Can you get me a glass of water?”  I kind of forgive a little because she is 91 and in her generation, women were not allowed to just come out and ask for what they wanted. It would have been considered rude or bitchy, so they became masters of manipulation.  They always seemed to get what they wanted in the long run, but it took a lot of time and effort.  

In this day and age, just come out and say what you mean and mean what you say.  There is no need to expect others to read your mind. You are an idiot if you get mad at them for not picking up your cues!  I think it is a co-dependency thing too.  When one gives in to those manipulators, jump at their cues and try to anticipate every need, they are just as much at fault, making themselves crazy while the other sits pretty without a care in the world.  

Now that I am thinking about it, I am guilty of trying to anticipate every possible land mine, obstacle, and problem before it happens, which, at times, include anticipating how someone will react or feel.  I have been called 'Hector Projector.' 

This can work to both my advantage and my disadvantage.  For instance, if I correctly predict that my 4 yr old will be tired with no nap by 2pm and my 8 year old will be hungry by 3:30pm and my husband will not be home by 5:30pm like he said but probably closer to 7pm, I know that means that I should make spaghetti and meatballs for dinner by 4pm.  What? (stay with me)  That meal only uses 2 pots for quick cleanup, the boys will eat their full of it without hesitation, and it is an easy reheat for the Hub.  I can give the kids a bath so the Hub can eat. Then, when the boys are in bed and screaming that they want daddy, he can go up with them after he eats and I can catch up on facebook clean up the kitchen for an hour.  See, it all works.  The problem is, there are times that I anticipate the future so much that I ruin the fun now.  I am so worried about cutting obstacles off at the pass that I can’t just enjoy the present.    

But enough about me being wrong.  Let’s go back to me being right.  It is the kind of thing that makes me feel like I know what I am doing.  Makes me feel invaluable, like the hero of every day life.  Especially when we are out and about.  When, for instance, one of the kids is thirsty and I pull out an extra water.  Or we are sitting in traffic, they are just starting to argue and I hand them coloring books and crayons.  When someone skins their knee and I whip out the wipes, Neosporin and bandaids.  When Little One has an accident and I pull out the extra underwear, pants socks and shoes.  When someone is cold and I have the sweater, someone is hot and I have the cool towel.  When someone is scared and I remembered to bring Mr. Turtle. When someone is looking for his sunglasses and I find them where he always leaves them (in the center console of the minivan) When we go on vacation with the dog and I remember the can opener for the dog food. When someone’s alarm clock on their blackberry goes off at 4AM on a weekend and I get up to find it and turn it off so the kids are not woken up.  When...  

Oh MY GOD, I am about to cry!  I can’t take this shit anymore..... WHERE IS MY COOL TOWEL!  WHERE IS MY SIPPY CUP!   WHO IS TAKING CARE OF ME?   But here is the thing.  It’s completely my fault.  Who said that I have to make sure that everyone wants for nothing, all the time? I mean the Hub runs out the door with the boys, with nothing but a plan for how to have fun.  And you know what?  They always do!  They have a blast.  There are times where he may have wished he had an extra water/pants/bandaid/snack, but not too often.  Why am I so friggin neurotic?  Why do I have to anticipate everything?  I guess that is just my job?  Is it?  I mean maybe that is why the kids don’t see that there are consequences for  shit happens!  And sometimes there is not a GD thing you can do about it.  It’s life.  You can never anticipate everything. Now, I am still going to be an advocate for being prepared, because it has saved my ass more than a few times, but maybe I don’t have to be so crazy about it.  Maybe I don’t need to focus on it as much.  It sounds good in theory, right? 

Isn’t it good enough just being me, being their mother who has fun and gives advise instead of sippy cups, time instead of activities, love and attention instead of bandaids and a change of pants?  Maybe I should let them figure out their needs all on their own?  Naaa, who will be the hero, then?  ;)  

Am I raising Spaulding Smails?

Here are some major mothering mistakes, right here, out in the open.  In case you want a little review here is what I wrote last summer about this same time.  (My Bad Ass Kids) 

Let me first preface that First Born is a energy filled, constant moving, attention loving and intelligent. He is loved by his teachers and coaches.  We always get compliments about how focused he is and how he stays away from trouble causing situations, even when they involve his friends.  He is helpful to other children and is generally happy and very confident.  

With that being said, he can be the most complaining and seemingly ungrateful 8 year old I know.  He always wants more.  When at a Phillies game - sitting in amazing seats - he wants to be in the front row, then he wants another hot dog, then he wants popcorn, then he wants to walk around the stadium.  When we tell him ‘no’ to all of these things he sulks, pouts and whines.  See Spaulding When on a vacation in Gettysburg - after spending 2 hours walking through the park - he complains that we didn’t get to see everything.  When going fishing, he complains that he didn’t catch the biggest/first/most fish.  When at the beach he is too hot/cold or his sandcastle is not perfect.  When I tell him to get a shower he wants a bath. When I tell him to get a bath he wants a shower.  

The ingrate does not realize how good he’s got it!  Pretty Damn Good!  We are by no means rich, but our kids want for NOTHING.  There are times I think a good 70s style whoop ass is in order!  Once First Born was complaining that he was the ONLY one of his friends that did not have an DS!   I then asked him why he wanted one, since he hates video games and gets frustrated when playing them.  He said, because everyone else has one! WTF!  (not a good enough answer, you ain’t getting one!) Then he asked for an ipod touch for Christmas. Really?  He is 8!  He likes music and so do I, but an ipod touch?  This is not needed at this age, not to mention that it can connect to the internet and I am not comfortable with that. Besides the fact that I think he just wanted it to play Angry Birds.  He has complained that we don’t have a pool or a cool play set or a garden railroad!  WHAT!  He wants a garden railroad and was pissed when I told him that was unrealistic.  I guess my next project is to go online and find out ways that I can teach and instill fiscal responsibility and deter greed.  

He is not always this way.  There are many times he is very happy and accommodating.  But we never know when Spaulding will rear his ugly head.  When he does act like a spoiled brat, it brings us all down.  No one can seem to fully enjoy the event, if little Mr. 'I want it all and I want it now' is around.  I can, at times, predict when he will act this way - he hasn’t gotten enough sleep, he is hungry, Hub is working a lot, he has been watching too much tv, etc.  These are all indications that he will be miserable and ungrateful.  Although, how long can we use these excuses?  And how long will I feel completely responsible for him acting like a pain in the ass, since it is my job to make sure he is fed, has enough sleep, is not watching too much tv, etc., etc.? 

Just the other day, we were at the Phillies game and all the aforementioned  things happened. The Hub and I decided that we were leaving the game early because he could not stop his complaining.  He cried but did not seem surprised.   When we got home, Hub and I snuck outside to fight about confer and figure out the best way to handle the situation.  We made First Born call and apologize to my dad, who bought the tickets, and my brother who was sitting next to him listening to all his complaints. Then we sent him to bed.   I had to give kudos to my Hub, because what he said really set in. Hub told First Born, “I am not mad, but what you did made me sad and disappointed.”  This hit home, as only a father telling his son, he is disappointed in him, can.  First Born, said “I don’t know why I am so stupid and say stupid things.  I just can’t stop them from coming out of my mouth. I am sad that I treated Pop Pop and Uncle J that way.” I explained that he was not stupid but just has to think before he speaks.  It was a good lesson as he was made to understand what his words and actions do to other people.  That is my main concern.  That he recognizes those around him and how they are affected.    

It may be hard for an 8 year old NOT to be all self absorbed, but it is our job as parents to make sure they aren’t.  I am not doing a great job, but I am working on it. I made a new rule for dinner time.  We are not allowed to talk about the food, unless it is something nice.  I will have no more: 

“Eww, what is this?”   -  It is chicken without breading and don't use that tone!  

“Do I have to eat this?” - No, but you will be hungry, if you don’t because the kitchen is now closed.  

“I don’t like this/It’s too dry/too wet/ touching my other food/too bland/too spicy,”  - I don’t care!  You are lucky I cooked you a meal that we are all sitting down together to eat!  I bust my ass to make food and clean up food all friggin day long and you are going to complain!  GET TO YOUR ROOM!  

Then Hub and I, after many frustrated looks and grimaces to each other, glare at the boys, excuse ourselves and sneak outside to fight about confer and discuss the best way to handle the children.

We have stopped all these dinnertime frustrations.  We can talk about our day or any topic as long as it is not focusing on the food or the eating of the food.  It seems to be working, so far.  

The Little One who is only 4 seems to get it.  But he is just an easy going, don’t rock the boat, type.  (he is a lot like Hub, in that way)  Although when he wants something he has his Jedi mind tricks.   He was a premie and Little One and I both went through a lot just to get him here/keep him here.  He doesn’t ask for or demand much so when he asks “Can you pree-teck me when its time for sleepings in case I have a dream”  we tend to give in a little more than I did with First Born.  Or when he says “I sure like chippy’s and dippy’s. Mommy why don’t you put some out?” (chippy’s and dippy’s is Stacy’s pita chips and Yucatan guacamole, in case you were wondering)  I can’t help but put them out.  He may complain a little if we are going in from outside and he wants to stay out, or if we are not having macaroni and cheese for the 6th time that week, or if he can not watch Alvin and the Chipmunks.... again, but when you tell him ‘no’ he is pretty accepting and easy going. It may just be a personality thing.  

I love my boys.  I want them to be happy and confident, compassionate children that grow into happy and confident, compassionate adults.  NOT Spaulding Smails.

So any suggestions, comments, gaffaws, criticisms?  Have at it!   I am open to anything.  

Happy Father's Day to my Hub

He is my husband and the father of our children. But those titles do not do him justice. He makes our boys feel special and valued. Here are just a few of the reasons I pat myself on the back for marrying and having children with my Hub. 


He has shown me how to be patient with my boys.


He allows our boys to be the daredevils that they are and (most of the time) he proves my worrying wrong. 


He shows our boys what love looks like. 


He always strives to make our boys' day the "best day ever!" 


He is slow to anger/frustration and fast to recover from anger/frustration. 


He then apologizes for his anger or frustration if it is unwarranted. 


He makes sure our boys are safe, happy and cared for at all times. 


He tells our boys that they are his "best buddies." 


He recognizes our boys unique and different abilities. 


He talks to them about his childhood. 


He shows them that it is ok to be wrong or make a mistake. 


He shows them how to apologize. 


He never misses a little league, coach pitch baseball game and when our First Born is playing he watches as if the Phillies are in the world series. 


He cuddles with our Little One. 


He is very sensitive to our First Born's fears at bedtime and much more patient than I am. 


He introduces them to all kinds of music. 


He loves watching them belly laugh at the Three Stooges.


He will watch train videos ad nausuem with our boys. 


He will even purchase more train videos so that they can watch them when he is not home. 


He surprises them with stickers/hard hats/clip boards/"important papers" that he "finds" at work.


He explains to them when he is tired from working so much and tolerates it when they ignore his explanation. 


He enthusiastically takes them hiking and fishing and exploring. 


He will dig holes on the beach until it is unsafe for the general public to walk on said beach, just because the boys want more holes in the sand.  


He teaches them the value of hard work and doing things right the first time. 


He shows them the importance of being a true Philadelphia Sports fan, through thick and thin. No bandwagoners allowed! 


He not only allows but encourages them to be goofy. 


He demonstrates this goofiness daily. 


He gives me hugs and kisses in front of them. 


He makes me laugh almost as much as they do. 


He drives me crazy, in both the good way and the bad way. 


He loves me for the crazy that I am. 


He consistently shows our boys what an amazing father and loving husband looks like, every day. 


Happy Father's Day My Love!

Waiting on the Verdict and the Millstone

The trial of the Commonwealth of Pennsylvania v. William J. Lynn, Edward V. Avery and James Brennan has come to a close. We are now awaiting the verdict. I followed the trial closely. There is a man named Ralph Cipriano who is a veteran reporter and one of 30 journalists accredited by the Philadelphia district attorney's office to cover the case. He has been reporting on the trial daily on his blog sponsored by the Beasly Firm.  I read his blog along with the articles in Philly.com, The Philadelphia Inquirer, Daily News and the AP. Ralph's blog was by far the most concise, independent, and non biased account of the trial. I really respect his insight and his candor. Ralph raised many concerns about both the defense and the prosecution's cases. One being that the prosecution seemed to be a bit long winded, with so much evidence and information, that it may have been too much to digest, for the jury. The other being that the prosecution had hammered Msgr Lynn too hard on cross examination. In the words of (kopride) one of the commenters on his blog: "nobody likes rats, but if you watched a kid tie a string to a rat, and torture it for hours, you would start rooting for the rat." Yet another problem for the prosecution was their "smoking gun" - the 1994 list of pedophile priests composed by Lynn and ordered to be shredded by Cardinal Bevilacqua - was also being used by the defense. The defense was using it to show that Lynn was just a patsy, a scapegoat, and the real guilty one is, the conveniently dead, Cardinal Bevilacqua.

That was the defense's mantra all along. That Lynn had no real power to do anything to the pedophile's in the Archdiocese. Accept of course, recommend that they get treatment or hand them their assignment to the next unsuspecting parish. When parishioners wrote, called or sat down with Lynn and told their horrific stories to him, he had a hand written note in front of him, telling him, "Never admit to victims that there are other cases."  And he didn't. He never told these people that they were not alone. That Fr. Gana, or Dux, or Sicoli, or Avery or Brennan, had other victims who were suffering just like they were. He quietly listened, and told them that he would take care of it. Then did nothing. And more children suffered.

There are some things that the trial showed that hopefully the people in the pews will take notice of. Priests stand together. They make a vow of obedience to their superiors. They are moved higher in the ranks when they play by the rules and don't rock the boat. But, in the real world, if an HR manager had a file of 35 employees whom were accused of raping children, and some of them even admitted it; wouldn't the moral, legal and ethical thing to be done, would be, call the police? If the statute of limitations passed wouldn't you at least get these men away from children? Wouldn't a normal person tell parishioners to be extra careful and guard their children? Maybe even have some sort of counseling for the possible effected families? In the real world most would even risk losing their jobs to make sure that innocent children are protected from these monsters. But Lynn did not live in the real world. He lived in a much safer world. Mgsr. Lynn’s lack of compassion and empathy for the powerless and his reverence and awe of the powerful are what this trial has shown, (if nothing else.) The difference of him standing up to his superiors and speaking out for the victims (either by going to the police/parishioners/press/screaming it from the rooftops!) and someone in the secular community doing so is that HE would not loose his job/livelihood. HE is a priest and guaranteed a job, a home, food, a pension, insurance and PROTECTION! So he stood to lose NOTHING by standing up for what was right. For standing up and saying I WILL NOT STAND BY AND ALLOW THIS TO HAPPEN UNDER MY NOSE. Not to mention that he is a PREIST and supposed to do that ANYWAY, regardless! That is his CALLING! SO I can feel no compassion for his decisions. I can feel no compassion for his situation. It was a lack of even a shred of courage. Because he did not stand to lose anything, accept, being in the good graces of his Cardinal.

Is what he did/didn't do criminal? In my opinion, Yes. Is what he did/didn't do immoral? Absolutely Yes. Will the jury come to the same conclusion? I really don't know. I would not be surprised if they didn't. But no matter what the outcome, the work of exposing the truth in the Catholic Church is not done. The light needs to be shown bright on everyone who knew and did nothing when children were being raped and tortured.

A newer story just surfaced. Cardinal Dolan, when he was Archbishop of Milwaukee and who is now cardinal archbishop of New York and head of the U.S. Conference of Catholic Bishops, paid off pedophiles! What is better than moving a pedophile to another unsuspecting parish? Give him $20,000.00 and release him to the public with a clean record. Oh and cover his health insurance.  It makes me sick. Substantiated allegations of child rape and molestation were made against priests in Milwaukee. The solution in Cardnial Dolan's mind was to give them money to leave the preisthood. Hell, it was cheaper than paying all those victims and then the priests were not his problem. He could very biblically "wash his hands of it." After they paid off their "problem priests" they filed for bankruptcy so they would not have to pay the victims. Apparently this is the m.o. for most Archdiocese when faced with a lot of troublesome lawsuits against their brother priests.  They file for bankruptcy and then claim they don't have the money to pay the abuse victims. They then bounce back and are off scott free! All the while, the money keeps rolling in every Sunday. And for all those that still think that unscrupulous people are lining up for a payday; Fewer than 2 percent of sexual abuse allegations against the Catholic church appear to be false.

So I can not even venture a guess as to the outcome of the first Catholic official prosecuted and brought to a jury trial on criminal charges of endangering the welfare of children by failing to investigate and report allegations of child abuse. I hope it is just and swift. But I am not holding my breath. The next trial that will be like this one is coming up against Kansas City Bishop Robert Finn. Interestingly enough, he is blaming Msgr. Robert Murphy, who is Lynn's counterpart in Kansas City. Lynn blames Bevilacqua, Finn blames Murphy.... NO one in the Church is taking responsibility. Everyone is passing the buck, closing ranks and protecting their own brother priests. Who is looking out for the vulnerable?

They better start listening to Jesus. He said, "'Whoever welcomes one such child in my name welcomes me; and whoever ensnares one of these little ones who trust me, it would be better for him to have a millstone hung around his neck and be drowned in the open sea! Woe to the world because of snares! For there must be snares, but woe to the person who sets the snare!..... See that you never despise one of these little ones, for I tell you that their angels in heaven are continually seeing the face of my Father in heaven." Matthew 18,5-11

Since they didn't listen to the big man, they better get their swim trunks and millstones ready!

My Love of Irish Women

I am attracted to Irish women. I surround myself with them. From the earliest friends I ever picked to my current harem, they are all Irish Americans. I am married to an Italian, Croatian, Slovakian, American man. He has no Irish heritage that we know of, but there is still hope. 


For the most part I am Italian American. Although, my mother's paternal grandmother was Irish. I am still doing research to find out more about when and where in Ireland that part of my family came from. My best friend for the past 23 years, Jenny, is of Irish decent. In 1st grade, the first person I ever picked, for myself, as a friend, was Shannon Brown - about as Irish as they come. When I was born I was instantly friends with Alexis. Her mother and my mother were friends, therefore we did not have a choice, but have remained friends to this day.... Oh she is only half Irish, but it is a pretty big half. I had another childhood friend, Nicole, who, although she was Korean, was raised by Irish parents. In middle school there was Amy and Megan. When I was in High School, I became very good friends with Colleen, again, really Irish, really fun. Then I befriended Molly, Sue, and Jenny and then Melanie, Maureen, Shannon and Donna. All more Irish than the next. I am totally serious here. I am not making up random names. The list goes on. Just in the past few years I have become close friends with Michele, Katie, and just met a new friend, who I clicked with, Noreen; you guessed it, all Irish. Oh, I just made a new facebook friend, who is a blogger, and is... wait for it... Irish American! Her name is Bethany and her blog is www.4godsakesboys.com. She is a riot and an amazing story teller. (check her out) 


Although my friends share the same heritage, they have very different personalities, backgrounds, and life experiences. In trying to analyze this phenomenon, I have figured out the one thing that attracts me to them is that they let me be me. They don't seem to mind me. Most of them find me pretty amusing. I feel good being around them and they are all very easy going and thoughtful. Now I am not sure if these traits are specific to their Irish heritage or if it is just some amazing coincidence that all the women I ever let get close to me, share that heritage. We do have lots in common, agree on major stuff, and there is no competition between us. In that we like each other for the different ways we handle things. I am, well, kinda loud. When I say kinda loud, I mean overpowering. I lack tact. I am only 5 ft tall so I have a bit of a Napoleon complex and if you set me off, most people in the tri-state area will know about it. See, I am not that easy to get along with, because I don't have much of a filter. Also, I can be a real pain in the ass when it comes to controlling things, like driving, and planning, and conversations. I tend to control it all. But, hey, I am working on it. And if I did not control some things, it would not get done properly. (See what I mean?) I would not describe my current Irish besties as "loud," although they get their point across loud and clear and most importantly... They actually like me! I think I may be their comic relief. The quirky/crazy sidekick, in their particular sitcom. 


I really love my Mick girlfriends. They are beautiful, fun and full of life. They make me laugh and allow me to cry. My best friend Jenny, knows me as well as my husband does, (maybe better) and she still loves me. She allows me to be my messed up self and accepts me. She is the kindest most considerate woman I know and she is a ferocious protector of those she loves. She is not loud or demanding, but if you ever need to get something done or need help in any way, she is your perfect advocate. Michele, who is a more recent friend, is another person who allows me to be myself. She also accepts me and although she is not a loud mouth Italian, we have so much in common, it is scary. We both have been through very similar circumstances in our lives and lived to tell about it! She is extremely kind and more fun than you can shake a stick at. 


So there it is, my true confession of my love for Irish women! No matter what our heritage, us women need other women in our lives. We need to have that support system of people who do not judge us, or try to fix us, or condescend to us. We need fellow women to bounce ideas off of and hash out dilemmas. We need our girlfriends to lift us up and support us and tell us like it is without crushing us. Now I do have a husband who does all these things too. But it is different, in that I am IN love with him. So his support is a little more intimate. But my girlfriends, well, they give me strength. So, if I ever get to Ireland, I may never return! But only if I can bring my girlfriends with me!

Screaming Banshee Moms, UNITE!

Compass Study (Photo credit: Calsidyrose)

When I first became a mother, I read every book and consumed as much information as I could from the myriad of resources out there. I love me some Google!  The problem with Google is, you can find out ANY information out there but you have to know what you are looking for. It is the virtual compass. A compass does not tell you where to go it just gives you the direction you are heading. If you don't know where you want to go, a compass can not get you there. There are as many different parenting theories out there as there are parents. Trying to find my style was not as easy as I thought it would be. It still isn't. I feel like I go back and forth from doing what I know is right and resorting back to the screaming banshee that I find comes natural.

The "Screaming Banshee Mom", is only heard when she is yelling at the highest of decibels. 

She must repeat herself at least 5 times. 

She needs massive amounts of coffee in order to keep her moving. 

She will partially complete about 12 tasks a day, never fully completing any. 

She yells about her child's messy room, when the rest of her house is just as messy. 

Horrible life threatening accidents are constantly running a loop in her brain and she stresses about everything safety related when it comes to her children. 

She has no patience and will continually tell those around her that she has no patience for this/that/you/them. 

She slams things, doors, windows, pots, pans, glasses, utensils. 

She is constantly in need of a deep breath. 

NO one listens to her and everyone talks to her. 

Everyone needs her to do something; usually menial tasks, like putting something away, taking something out, wiping something/someone, cleaning something/someone, etc. 

Animals gravitate to her and want her attention also. 

She is a powerful adversary when it comes to those she protects but powerless when it comes to her own needs. 

She wistfully thinks of times when she was young, single and firm. 

Firmness alludes her and she is pissed. This pissed off feeling never goes away, especially when she sees young, single and firm people in her midst. 

She will bite your head off if you criticize her parenting skills. If you are her spouse, and you criticize, she will follow the biting of the head with a foot up your ass. 

She needs a break. Even in the middle of the night when she gets up to pee, her brain starts and does not stop. Always looking for ways to manage her time more efficiently. 

She murmurs to herself and answers her own questions, since no one will talk to her. 

When she screws up, she is infuriated that someone else didn't screw up. 

She yells at her children to "Stop Yelling!" 

She cries for her children to stop crying. 

She whines that her children whine. 

NOW, stop judging.

I used to judge these moms. Before I had children I thought "I will NEVER do that." Then I had children and I did that! 

We are not perfect moms. There is no such thing. Because even if you do everything right and you are consistent, kind, loving and patient - when they reach their twenties and see a therapist - your kids will still find a way to blame you for something.  Why not make it worth that therapist's while?

Don't get me wrong. I do not advocate for being a "Screaming Banshee Mom." 

Do I find it a problem that "Screaming Banshee Mom" comes to me so naturally? YES. 

Do I fight it on a daily/hourly basis? HELL YES. 

Does the "Screaming Banshee Mom" rear her ugly head every now and again? Most definitely! 

But, I figure it's not so bad because if my kids are going to therapy in their twenties anyway, at least, I am giving them something to complain about. None of this mamby-pamby "I didn't feel valued as a child" bullshit.  Lets go for the full force "My mother was a crazy screaming lunatic who talked to herself and was always putting her foot up my dad's ass!" THAT's therapy worthy. Let's give them something to talk about. Who's with me?

Screaming Banshee Mom's UNITE!

Parodies in Real Life

The Roman Catholic Church is being almost a parody of itself lately.  I mean how much more Python-esque can it get?  We have the ongoing Philadelphia Priest abuse trial. Right now it is on it’s 6th week.  Six weeks of damning testimony against Monsignor Lynn and against the Archdiocese in general. These “holy” men who admittedly shuffled around known pedophiles to parish after parish.   They protected these monsters until the statute of limitations ran out and then let them go.  Now they are living where ever they want.  Like across the street from playgrounds.  We also have another priest on trial, Fr. Brennan, who has ADMITTED to allowing a 14 year old boy watch porn on his computer, drink alcohol and then sleep in his bed with him.  This is what Brennan called    "borderline inappropriate" Borderline?  Really?  So when this child who is now a 30 yr old man says that Fr. Brennan did even more than what he admitted to, who are you going to believe?  Well, I for one believe the victim.  

Then we have the Vatican’s own, Congregation for the Doctrine of the Faith (CDF) formerly know as Supreme Sacred Congregation of the Universal Inquisition (yes THAT Inquisition) writing a scathing report on one of their own.  NO one expects the INQUISITION!   In case you need to brush up on your history here the best take on the Inquisition. (The genius that is Mel Brooks)The CDF came down hard on those crazy do-gooder nuns.  They appointed a Bishop (who has a penis) to oversee these crazy “radical feminists.” Yes, these mostly older nuns who have long since stripped off their habits and taken their own names back. They are no longer forced into classrooms with 40 kids.  These new fangled crazy sisters work with the fringe of society, the poorest of the poor, the mentally ill, the old, the sick, the hungry, the teenage single mothers, the homeless and the dying . The Bishops deal with power these women deal with the powerless.  They do not tow the line of the Bishops and their political interests.  These nuns do not stand up and yell about contraception, abortion, school vouchers and fighting the Statute of Limitations for child victims of sexual abuse. They are too busy doing the work that.... well, Jesus did.  Helping those who need it the most.  They agreed with the Obama administration in passing the Health Care bill.  No matter where you stand on the issue, these nuns are caring for the very people whom the bill will help, the poorest of the poor.  So naturally the nuns would be for it.  But when this happened, the Bishops got very angry at these uppity nuns, who would not back them and their Republican agenda.  They were also angry that the nuns were making decisions on their own and not consulting them.  So what did they do...... issued the Inquisition! (No one expects the CDF!) The crazy radical nuns have 5 yrs to get in line, report to the good Bishop in charge of them, and do what they are told.  If not they can find another religion. Did the Vatican feel this strongly about it’s pedophile priests? Ummm NO,  they just tried to cover it up as much as possible.   I think it would have been much better if the Vatican issued the Inquisition on the nuns of over 35 years ago when they were beating the crap out of my generation and past generations.  They were the crazy ones!  Not all, but quite a few of them were vicious mean people.  

Then there is a Catholic school teacher who was having problems with infertility.  She was fired from her job, by the Monsignor, who called her a “grave, immoral sinner,” because she went through Invitro Fertilization Treatment.  This is a big no-no in the Catholic Church.  You can not create life in any other way but in the missionary position, in the dark, partially clothed and with a feeling of self loathing.  Oh and if you CAN get pregnant that way, don’t EVER prevent getting pregnant by using any form of contraception.   "Every Sperm is Sacred"  

So have I provided enough parody of the craziness?  Here is one more and it makes the most sense.  Dogma .  

Small Disclaimer:   I grew up with a sincere appreciation of Monty Python, Mel Brooks and the like.  It was completely my father’s fault.  He would let me stay up late just to watch certain Python clips or Brook’s movies.  SO if you don’t like my sense of humor, just remember to  “Always look on the bright side of life!” 

Get Away!

Ahhhh.  The Hub and I got away for a long weekend without the kids to celebrate our anniversary.  It was so needed. Not just for us but for the kids too.  We reconvened a much happier group.  The boys and our dog spent the weekend with my parents.  Nana and PopPop.  Nana and PopPop are rock stars.  They are the end-all and be-all of grandparents.  They are fun and take the boys everywhere they want to go.  They adore our children and our children adore them right back.  Nana and PopPop took the kids to the the local Wetlands Institute http://wetlandsinstitute.org/  where the boys got to pet flounder, skate, and horseshoe crabs. They also got to see an octopus get a crab out of a 2 liter soda bottle.  Very cool stuff.  They went to the beach and played in the sand and dug holes and chased the waves.  They ate good they slept good and had a wonderful time.  The dog even seemed happier.  She followed my father everywhere he went.  

The Hub and I went about 5 miles away from them to Cape May, NJ. We could fully relax and laughed a lot.  We laughed at the bed and breakfast we stayed in.  It was a little beat up and the coffee was horrible.  We also think that our inn keeper was pulling tubes on a daily basis.  We went to a bar and drank.  I can’t tell you the last time I sat at a bar and drank with my husband.  I think it was so long ago, you could still smoke at a bar.  We trash talked about people. We walked around the town and ate really good food.  We talked about how neither of us could imagine NOT having kids.  We revisited the possibility of adopting another.  Raising kids seems to give such a sense of love, a capacity of love that I never knew existed.   We sat on the beach bundled up in jackets and we laughed a lot.  

I have to say, I really, really like the man that I married 11 years ago. I think that he is probably one of the best human beings I know.  He is kind, funny and caring.  He is so smart and has accomplished so much in his life.  We talked about whether or not 11 years ago, we could have pictured where we are now, with 2 beautiful kids, a dog and a cat (the same cat my husband found in 1993!) I think that I pictured something like that when we got married. But before I met him, I could not in my wildest dreams, have pictured the wonderful life we have now.  I would have never thought that I would be this happy and in such a great place with such a great husband.  I was not a happy person for a long time.  I hid who I was and what I felt so that I would not feel vulnerable. I put myself in circumstances that made me miserable.  When I decided I was worth it, and started making changes, The Hub came along and renewed my faith in love.  I felt comfortable enough to be my authentic self with him.  He made me feel safe.  He still does.  

So if you have the opportunity, get away with the one that you love.  Remember why you fell in love.  Stop the normal rush and crazy of every day and take a day or two or three just to be together and laugh and joke and feel at ease.  There is nothing better.  We feel renewed and refreshed.  By the time we had to leave we missed the kids and were ready to see them.  I am not too sure the kids were ready to leave Nana and PopPop, but they seemed genuinely happy when we were all back together.   

I know this post is kind of sappy. But I did just get to spend three days and nights with one of my best friends who still turns me on and makes me laugh.  Three days without interruption, without distraction and with each other.  I am one lucky lady!  

P.S. Thank you Nana and PopPop!