Bird

Jesse brought home a bird, and I didn't know it. The bird died weeks (months?) ago, and Chris found it yesterday when he was supervising the cleaning of the boys' bathroom. This was really upsetting to me, obviously, and as a parent, I really wanted to handle it just right. I had to fight my urge to really lay into the boy, but I said a few succinct bits and clamped my mouth shut. As I thought about it, I remembered that Jesse is an inquisitive, curious boy who loves nature and likes to observe animals. I have to assume he was curious about this little pet and not malicious. Curious vs. malicious. I'm going with curious here, but concerns linger. I try to teach my children the dangers of black and white thinking, but when something like this happens, where does my own mind go? Oh Lord, I'm raising a sociopath! He killed a bird! He doesn't seem to feel bad about it! What am I gonna do RIGHT NOW?! Nothing. Remember the shades of gray. Breathe. He is not a sociopath. He didn't kill the bird in cold blood. He DOES feel bad about it, but he's overwhelmed.
I had him write a eulogy for the bird. He had to give it a name and feel how that bird's mother must have felt. He had to think about how the bird must have felt. Let me just say, Jesse is not a good eulogy writer. I hope it's a skill he does not have to hone through the years. As this "assignment" shaped up, the parallels between this bird and Jesse shaped in my mind. Jesse placed this bird in a box, far away from his Mama and bird siblings. Jesse was placed in foster care, far away from his Mama. He got to keep his sibling. The bird was denied food and water. There were many times Jesse did not have enough food. He placed the bird in a dark box and forgot about it. Jesse was placed in the equivalent of a box and pretty much forgotten about by the people that mattered most to him. The eulogy-writing assignment was shaping up to be a lesson is self-exploration, and hopefully potential healing.
Jesse sat down to share his eulogy with us last night at dinner. Startlingly, he named the bird "Mike." I don't think he intended to give this bird my brother's moniker, but it made me giggle just the same. I still don't know if this "assignment" was the right thing to do here, but Jesse seemed to embrace it, and I sense that it gave him a feeling of some control. I wonder if he's aware of the similarities between him and "Mike." He loves to capture little critters, and I think I understand why a little better now. I hope he understands it, too.

Watching the news

I was devastated last night as I watched the news. There is so much sadness in the world, it's not a completely rare occurrence for a soft soul like me to be moved. Having a newsman for a husband doesn't always help, for example his story last night concerning sex slaves in St. Louis. On a happier note, I do want to share that we were sitting in front of Qdoba with a sleeping toddler in the backseat while we listened to the live action launch on NPR. So exciting, and an end of one era as another begins.

The story that compels me to write this, and continues to haunt me this morning is the one about the man who fell to his death at a Rangers game while catching a ball that Josh Hamilton tossed into the stands. All this happened in front of the man's six year old son. He was alive when he left the ballpark, but had cardiac arrest all the way to the hospital and died.

There are so many life stories here; certainly the man and his son. Life is completely altered for that little boy, who now doesn't have a Daddy, as well as enduring watching him die. What makes it even more tragic in my eyes, is that they were having fun, without a worry, a man and his boy taking in a game. We all have these sweet occurrences throughout our lives, and we all take for granted that nothing tragic happens. I, for one, am not really in the habit of breathing a sigh of relief that nobody died when we all return in one piece from a walk, a visit to the Butterfly House, or the swimming pool. I'm grateful we enjoyed the event and time together, but there's not really an expectation of danger or death, so I don't thank God when we all return alive from these events. It's a lesson that it can all be over in an instant, and we should be grateful without crossing into anxiety or macabre-ness. It's also a lesson to treat the ones you love with, well, with love at ALL TIMES. All the time.

My heart goes out for Josh Hamilton, the player who flicked the ball into the stands. Just. Like. That. Chris reminded me this morning that Josh is the player that had addiction problems years ago, and he's sober now. He even has a book out called Beyond Belief. It is my sincere prayer that he will continue on his path of faith, sobriety, and healing. Hopefully he will know "beyond belief" that this was truly an accident and he did not cause it. I hope by writing this, a few more people will send out healing thoughts and prayers to all involved in this tragic event.

Writing Chops

My writing chops are a little dry. They're not the nice, succulent chops that have been lovingly braised and tended, resulting in a juicy chop you would like to sink your teeth into. No. My writing chops were thrown in the oven with no basting liquid, abandoned really, with a hope they would turn out moist and tasty. They are dry, tasteless, hard-to-cut chops. It's best to not even try to serve these chops, at least for today, so I'll turn to other people's writings. We'll savor these roasts, briskets, just-right burgers, medium-rare filets that have brought enjoyment to my life while I try to turn my chops into something you'd actually like to devour. Hopefully it will be a prime cut!

I just finished reading Alison Arngrim's Tales of a Prairie Bitch. Wow! Even if you did not grow up with Little House on the Prairie, you will love this book. Alison played Nellie Oleson on the show, and Nellie gave her permission, somewhat, to find her inner bitch. I'm so grateful Alison found her voice; she makes a positive difference in the world, and we're all better for it. My review does not do this book credit. She's funny, irreverent, real, and grounded. And funny. Read this book.

I just started No Biking in the House Without A Helmet by Melissa Fay Greene. This is shaping up to be a good one. Melissa and her husband have four biological children, and not wanting to deal with the "empty nest" have adopted five more over the years. They just like having young life around. This is a great book for anyone considering adoption. It's the book I wish I could write. It won't sway people away from adoption (well, it might, but that's not the intention), but it will help folks go in with open eyes. She's funny, grounded, real, and irreverent. Hmmm....I'm sensing a theme here.

These books are "prime" cut beef, and I'm stuck at "select" right now, but if I feed and water my cow, and pet her daily, maybe I can end up with a "choice" offering. You do pet cows, right?