If you have never been to a T-Ball game,  imagine trying to get twenty drunk hamsters to do tricks on a field, and you will have some idea of the chaos and confusion that goes on during one of these games.

So far we have been to one practice and one game.  During these 2 hours we have seen tears, butt scratching, mass confusion, and booger picking.  During the game, the coach’s kid was busy posing in the sun and watching his shadow on the ground below, while another kid walked directly through the field to the bleachers and asked his mom through the fence “Mom, why did you sign me up for this?”  (This is the same kid who last week insisted he talk to his mother in the middle of practice because it was “an emergency.”  After tromping through the mud across the field, he asked her “Can I get a sword?  I really like them.”) Another outfielder laid down on the ground to stare up at the clouds while my child played with his hat, and another child played in the dirt.

At the game, NOT ONE child knew to run to first base after hitting the ball.  My son ran toward the mound.  Later he ran from first base to the infield, then to the outfield, just zig-zagging along until the OTHER TEAM’S coach pointed to second base.

No one really catches the balls–they just wait for balls to land and stop rolling.  Then, two or three kids will stare at it until one brave child picks it up and throws it in any direction or no direction, as if it has thorns.

In a word, it is fantastic.

The night of the first game, Coop crawled in bed to give me a kiss goodnight.  I told him how much I had enjoyed watching him play T-Ball and asked him to tell me his favorite part of the day.

“We had hot dogs and buns!”

His Mom and Dad were nestled all snug in our bed,
While visions of peace and solitude danced in our heads.
Then down in the kitchen there arose such a clatter,
Dave sprang from our bed to see what was the matter.

To the top of the stairs I flew like a flash,
Then down to the kitchen to see it was TRASHED!
As I blinked to bring my eyes into focus,
I was surprised at whose antics had woke us.

I gazed at the appliance that now held an odd kind of soup,
I knew in a moment the chef was named “Coop”
He named each item aloud, and in the dishwasher they went,
All of his prized ingredients.

“In Oven Mitts, in Apples, and Bananas, in Office Supplies!”
“In Home Phone, and Cell Phone”, I heard his excited cries.
“Now Medical Gloves and Tubing,  Spices still stuck in the Spice Rack!”
Then in went Garlic Powder, and the container, and he didn’t look back.

Lots of Organic Cocoa, some Powdered Green Drink and their containers, sprinkled near and far,
The canister of flour, the sprinkled Pepper (and of course,  its jar).

In went some important papers, a bottle of hand soap– actually, two.
Then a large bottle of dish-washing soap was tossed in on cue.
A Baseball display case: in the bloated appliance it went!
Finally, he pushed the start button to complete his naughty experiment.

We rounded the corner and he knew he had been caught,
but not before he terrorized our beloved coffee pot!

(for pics, scroll all the way down, ignoring the odd spaces between them)

3 oven mitts
Box of medical gloves (almost full)
Pens
Hi-lighters
Brand new LARGE bottle of garlic powder
Garlic powder container
Pepper
Pepper Container
Huge canister of Organic cocoa (about 1 1/2 pounds)
Cocoa container
Green Vibrance powdered green drink
Green Vibrance container
Spice rack with three spices still inside
3 large Apples
2 Bananas
Paper with important phone #s
House phone
Cell phone
Flour container
Dish soap bottle (filled)
2 Hand soap containers (filled)
Medical tubing
Baseball display case

Possibly more, it was 4:30am

Despite the fact that my state has high numbers of Lyme in animals, human doctors still won’t admit to the basic truth: Lyme exists in Texas, the ticks can’t read a map.

Because I wasn’t treated immediately, I now have “Chronic Lyme,” another thing which docs don’t believe exists.  I have suffered physically agony and disability because of doctors’ and insurance companies’ arrogance, stupidity, and greed.

Apparently, however, doctor arrogance isn’t just a problem here, as this clever animation artist depicts an experience amazingly similar to mine.

Doctors expect us to believe that Lyme diseased ticks and other biting insects just simply do not exist in Texas (a near perfect environment for them, incidentally), and that our animals that have Lyme must have vacationed in Connecticut recently, or possibly that Texans have different blood than people from other states, or ticks are scared to cross the state line into Texas (it must be our strict border patrol).

Amazingly, they spout off statements such as “Lyme disease doesn’t exist in Texas,” yet they chastise you for making a statement such as “I have Lyme disease,” even while you are holding a positive Lyme test in your hand.

Either way, I won’t put my faith in a person who make such an ignorant statement.

Interesting.

Just recently, when someone wrote to him about a friend whose wife has Alzheimer’s, Robertson suggested the man divorce his wife and “start all over.”  When confronted about the whole “’til death do us part’” clause in most wedding vows, his response was to point out that Alzheimer’s is a “kind of death.”

He is a “kind of ” hypocritical dick.

I have written new vows that seem more in line with his thinking about traditional marriages:

I take you to be my wedded wife. To have and to hold (when I want you, and to discard when things don’t go as planned), from this day forward (or until a day in the future which I deem the end of our marriage), for better, (but not) for worse, for richer, for poorer (you agree to no more than a 5% decrease in annual earnings), in (brief) sickness or in health, to love and to cherish ’til death do us part (or things that are not actually death, but I reserve the right to call a “kind of” death after which I will dump you off at the nursing home and “start all over”).  And hereto I pledge you my faithfulness (some restrictions apply).

Now, don’t misunderstand me.  I am not judging people for ending marriages for reasons they felt appropriate or safe.  I believe most divorces only come about after people have worked hard at saving the marriage.

I just can’t get over the hypocrisy of him saying that God will destroy us if we turn against traditional marriage and allow gay people to wed, but it is perfectly okay for non-gay people to get married and bail out when our partner gets sick.  Isn’t that turning away from our wedding vows and traditional marriage?

This isn’t about the sanctity of marriage.  It is about not wanting to give rights to another group to enjoy something that we haven’t even figured out yet.

“Cooper, please don’t fart on your bread.”

Burzynski: Cancer Is Serious Business (click here to watch)

If you or a loved-one suffers from a chronic disease or Cancer, please educate yourself about our health care policies and the pharmaceutical industry.   Most people have no idea about the corruption involved in our medical system.  If you follow the money, things usually start to make sense.

As a lymie, I have had my fair share of frustration w/ our medical system and the Texas Medical Board.

We need to change our system.  The first step is knowledge.

1) Raising a 4-year old boy is like raising a college aged boy.  They both have the same dance moves, both like to streak, both are always spilling their drinks and getting crumbs everywhere, and there is always a mess that involves puke or pee.

2) Safety scissors suck.  How do we expect kids to develop fine motor skills when we give them something that couldn’t cut water?

3) Sometimes it is really hard not to yell.  Sometimes it is impossible.

4) The male species’ penis fascination starts at about 6 months of age, and ends as about . . . never.

5) This is by far the most important job I have ever had,  my job performance is much more important than it has been in any job before it.  I get no financial compensation, I put in a lot more hours, never get a vacation, and I am on call 24/7.  My boss can be a real tyrant sometimes.  But, the bonuses are great.

6) If you live in the country and let your son pee outside, don’t be surprised when he drops his shorts, arches his back, and pees on the edge of the playground in front of everyone during a classmate’s birthday party.  Or, when he drops his backpack and artwork on the sidewalk and tries to pee in the flower garden in front of his school.

7)  Things that used to totally gross me out don’t even register in my brain anymore.

8)  I don’t know how moms of twins do it.  Never mind moms of triplets.

9)  No matter how many times I tell Coop the underwear flap goes in front, he is still going to put them on backwards and wear them that way all day.  As long as they are clean and dry, I don’t care.

10)  I never knew a bouquet of Mother’s Day “flowers” made from construction paper cut-outs of Cooper’s hand-prints taped to colorful pipe cleaners and wrapped in pink tissue paper could mean so much.

Happy Mother’s Day!

Sad that this man had so much hatred for other humans.  Sad that he wanted to harm innocent people.  Sad for the terrorism he lived with in his own heart.

“I mourn the loss of thousands of precious lives, but I will not rejoice in the death of one, not even an enemy. Returning hate for hate multiplies hate, adding deeper darkness to a night already devoid of stars. Darkness cannot drive out darkness: only light can do that. Hate cannot drive out hate: only love can do that.” – Martin Luther King, Jr.

I am sad he lived a life of wanting to destroy or take away others lives, and I am sad that the families of 9/11 victims still can’t hug their loved ones tonight.

“Good morning, Mommy!” He said, enthusiastically.

Feeling very loved and appreciated, I sang my response: 

“Good morning to you, sweet Cooper, good morning to you, my love.  . “

“Don’t sing that one Mommy, sing the cool one.” He interrupted.

“Which one is that?” I asked.

“Ice Ice, Baby!”

I have created a monster.