St. Jude Children's Hospital

So I woke up around five-o-clock this morning wedged in between my toddler and a cold wall. I had to go the bathroom, but I did not want to leave the comfort of my warm bed. As I paused for a moment, the raspy sound of an old woman's voice came drifting from the television I had forgot to turn off before I fell into my deep slumber.

Squinting my eyes, I looked on the screen and saw a three year old boy named Reagan. He was diagnosed with childhood leukemia and passed away eleven months after being admitted to St. Jude Children's Research Hospital. I began to feel very sad. I looked over at my little one, sleeping so soundly, with not a care in the world. Then I thought, "That could be my child in that hospital. That could be Ruki."

And the tears came flowing down my tired face.

I imagined myself being some billionaire philanthropist and giving St. Jude's, or any other children's hospital, a million dollars or more. But I am not a philanthropist, I am just a writer. So, today I am writing to urge everyone to donate your dollars and your prayers to sick and needy children wherever they may be. Don't wait for a tragedy to happen to you or someone you love to start caring. Care now. Give now.

THERE IS A GOD!!!!

As I nurse my beautiful 5 month old daughter, I think to myself, wow, how is this possible? You know . . . all of it, the whole thing. How is it that I can be the sole source of nourishment for another human being? But it's not just nursing; it's the love. How is it that I have developed a love for this crying, spitting, screaming, pooping little person? And not just any love, an unexplainable, impenetrable, everlasting love. I mean I would give my life for her without giving a second thought, but perhaps more importantly, she makes me want to live my life better. She makes me feel like I have to do better for myself- spiritually, financially, and academically- for the sake of her. Why do us mothers- and many fathers- have these feelings? I mean, okay she grew inside of me for nine months, but so what?

I think the miracle of childbirth continues far beyond those strenuous hours of labor. Sometimes I will look over at her and she is just gazing into my eyes, far longer than any teenie bopper couple trumped with infatuation. THIS IS LOVE. THIS IS GOD. It is moments like that when I know with complete certainty that there is a God. An All-Knowing, Most Beneficent, Most Gracious God. Who else could have created this love that surely no human could even fathom before they experience it for themselves.

Step-Mommy

I am so blessed to be a step-mommy! I have known my beautiful step-daughter, Patsy, since she was a baby. Over the years we have grown closer and now that she is almost seven I feel like I'm just getting the hang of this stuff. Being step-mommy to a child that does not live with you can create a lot of awkward and sometimes frustrating moments when it comes to the discipline. An awesomely exciting day at the park can quickly evolve into a nightmare when she throws a temper tantrum because someone else got on "her swing". The mother side of me always wants to immediately correct the misconduct by kneeling down, looking her in the eyes and with my firmest voice say, "This spoiled behavior in unacceptable and you WILL STOP CRYING this second or you won't see the playground for a month!" However I have learned thru trial and error that you have to be a lot more creative when it comes to disciplining a step-child. For instance, I am a real stickler when it comes to having healthy meals and snacks, so when I serve her a yummy plate of whole wheat macaroni and cheese with salmon and broccoli, I expect it to be devoured! When I was a child we would've killed to have a meal like this- healthy and tasty. When Patsy turned her nose up at my meticulously cooked dish and pushed the food around her plate like it was slop I was offended and demanded she it- I didn't yell, I just said what my parents had always said to me when I was being picky: "You are not getting up from this table until you finish your food." Well, she did not even eat one forkful. Instead she cried and told her mother that "Kay was being mean to me". When my husband relayed the message I was heartbroken- I had never wanted to hurt her feelings. I just wanted her to build healthy eating habits because I love and care for her well-being.

It wasn't until I had my own child that I started to assess how hard the situation must be for her- being shuttled from two different households with different religions, rules, and expectations. She doesn't need me to be her mom- she already has one of those- she needs me to be her mentor and her friend. So I have decided the best way to bring the peace is to gain her trust and respect, then hope that she will behave out of pure guilt, because she knows I am looking out for her best intrest. For the times I can't play the guilt game, I have learned to use creative language when she needs behavior correction like the time she didn't want to leave the playground: "Patsy, you are a big girl now and you have to show the baby how to be a big girl by going home when it is time. Only babies cry when they don't get what they want." And now I have gotten her so use to compromising when it comes to eating, She automatically says, "Okay, how many spoonfulls of brocolli do I have to eat?" Hey, I'll take what I can get! And instead of chastising bad behavior, I just ignore it, but then I praise the good behavior, and ALL children want to be praised.