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:Random thoughts from a Renegade Mom:
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Friday, December 16, 2005the War on Christmas...They have Nuclear weapons!While out surfing this evening I ran accross a clip from CNN about the "War on Christmas" debate started by Fox News. Sam Seder was on and was just hilarious! Here's the start of the show:SEDER: Listen, as far as the war on Christmas goes, I feel like we should be waging a war on Christmas. I mean, I believe that Christmas, it's almost proven that Christmas has nuclear weapons, can be an imminent threat to this country, that they have operative ties with terrorists and I believe that we should sacrifice thousands of American lives in pursuit of this war on Christmas. And hundreds of billions of dollars of taxpayer money. PHILLIPS: Is it a war on Christmas, a war on Christians, a war on over-political correctness or just a lot of people with way too much time on their hands? SEDER: I would say probably, if I was to be serious about it, too much time on their hands, but I'd like to get back to the operational ties between Santa Claus and al Qaeda. PHILLIPS: I don't think that exists. Bob? Help me out here. SEDER: We have intelligence, we have intelligence. PHILLIPS: You have intel. Where exactly does your intel come from? SEDER: Well, we have tortured an elf and it's actually how we got the same information from Al Libbi. It's exactly the same way the Bush administration got this info about the operational ties between al Qaeda and Saddam. Now the whole clip is funny especially when Seders produces the "holiday party" invitation that Fox News sent to employees, talk about hypoctits! I even found that Fox usues Holiday on their website...I don't hear O'Reilly screaming about that! No, it's not a surprise that this whole "War on Christmas" thing turns out to be bogus demagoguery dreamed up by the execs over at Fox News; it is, however, fun to watch their little scheme blow up in their faces. Gina froze in time on 10:10 PM [ | ]
Oh, the Christmas spirit! So many of my fellow bloggers have reported a "lack" of christmas spirit and I think I know why. Take for example my day: Today I spent cleaning the house for our "Yule open house" tomorrow. I sprayed the house down with a gingerbread fabric spray and lit holiday candles, listen to christmas songs and put up my cards on my christmas card holder. All is calm, all is bright. The children are even playing nice and helping me from time to time. The christmas spirit abounds in this house. So, after dinner, I start making the eggnog for the party. After the first batch, I decide that I want to make two, just for good measure, and come to find myself short of eggs. So in my PJs I head off to Target (hey I could not care less what the neighbors thought of my duckies). The store is packed so I part in an open space very far away from the door, I'd rather walk then circle the parking lot twelve times. I go to cross the street to get into the store and a man pulling out of a parking space nearly hits me...now mind you I'm not walking down the middle of the aisle, I nearly had to climb onto a car to avoid his bumper!!! Another man sees the space and turns on his blinker. I wait (as does the man with the blinker) for several cars to go past. When the traffic clears up, I wave to the man with the blinker to go ahead in front of me. But no he smiles and waves me to cross the street. As I walk in front of his car another car races around the corner and parks in the space he's been waiting for! So much for kindness towards strangers! The store is packed, I grab my cart and head to the dairy aisle. Eggs, Eggs, then I'll leave!! I get run down by a ten year old racing his 6 year old brother down the aisles, while mom is looking at books. Some college girl is sitting IN the cart talking to what must be her boy friend looking at DVD. Off in the distance I hear some mother yelling at her children that if they didn't behave santa wasn't going to bring them anything. Could that be the mother of the two dare-devil boys that nearly knocked me down??? So off to the check out with my eggs. I get to stand in line for what seems like forever, behind people with their carts stack up tall. "Wasn't this on sale, it was under a sale sign?" "I need a price check!" "Can you wait a minute here comes my husband with a few more things." "Would you like to use your Target Visa?" All I want is my eggs so I can get back to MY holiday spirit. I get back home and finish the eggnog up and make a big cup of coffee. When I was younger, I couldn't wait to go to the mall and see the lights, the people shopping, the christmas MUZAK, grab a coffee and hang with my friends. As an adult I find I have to create my own christmas haven. The holidays don't bring mystery, magic and anticipation for me, the bring a long list of To Dos and a delicate balancing act with wanting to give and keeping from going in debt. So, now here I am. I'm still in my PJs, drinking my coffee now, munching on a piece of fruit cake I made two days ago, listening to my holiday songs. I have made my own little magical retreat in my home and this is were I gather my holiday spirit before venturing out into the chaos! Gina froze in time on 7:47 PM [ | ]
Thursday, December 15, 2005To game or not to game...so I'm having this serious debate with myself, should I buy a V-Smile for Mikal's birthday or not....Mikal has shown interest in video games, he wants to play them at the stores and on our trips to IN we stop at a McDonalds that has a spiderman video. But do I really want to go there?? He'll be four in Feburary and I usually try and buy his "big" gift for his birthday during or just after christmas (sales you know). I have picked up a v-smile and put it down half a dozen times. So what do you think, should I try and stay away from the whole gaming system as long as I can? Does anyone have one and what do you think?? vsmile Gina froze in time on 2:13 PM [ | ]
new winter themelet me know how it works for you and what you think!Gina froze in time on 2:05 PM [ | ]
Wednesday, December 14, 2005"Educational" videos good for toddlers? The Kaiser Family foundation put out a report examining the marketing claims and parental guidelines of 29 different videos, DVDs, computer software products and video games targeted at children 6 years old and younger. The report specifically said it was not 'designed to assess the quality or effectiveness' of the products. The companies say that these videos will help your child's cognitive development, but these claims are antidotel. The companies depend on testimonial from their customers. Many parents say the videos are working because their children are fascinated with them and will watch the video all the way through, riveted to the TV. The videos depend on the orienting reflex, the hey look something new, to hold babies attention. By flashing new and shiny things on the screen every few seconds, the child's natural reflex to examine the "new" thing kicks in. The report suggested that a key factor is how the products are used. It cited a statement from the American Academy of Pediatrics on the importance of 'direct interactions with parents and other caregivers for healthy brain growth and the development of appropriate social, emotional and cognitive skills.' Some products have "parallel" teaching curricula and products so they can bee used to educate, but it's not the way they are being used. Most of the 11 DVDs examined "had an option of allowing the disc to be played continuously, looping back to the beginning automatically- something seemingly designed to facilitate repeated independent viewing rather than parent-child co-viewing," Labeling these videos as educational is a streach. And because of studies that link high video exposure to attention problems, researchers and the journal Pediatrics suggest using them with kids under age 2 might do harm rather than good. In the spirit of discloser, I have used these products. We own several baby einstein and brainy baby spanish. I uses these videos on our drives to IN that we make about seven times a year or anytime we are driving for more than an hour. I like the videos better than TV, and try to watch them with the kids so I know what's going on when we are driving. I do have a ton of concern about letting my little guys watch TV, but some time it's better than leaving them on the side of the road or locking them in the closet when mommy's sick. So I think as parents we pick and choose. Gina froze in time on 7:12 PM [ | ]
Visions of sugarplums This is my all time favorite christmas story. It reminds me that I don't have to be a evangelical christian to enjoy the holiday, and believe in Santa! (note: it is very long so settle in if you are going ot read it.) VISIONS OF SUGARPLUMS by Margaret Morrison Five minutes before the Winter Solstice circle was scheduled to begin, my mother called. Since I'm the only one in our coven who doesn't run on Pagan Standard Time, I took the call. Half the people hadn't arrived, and those who had wouldn't settle down to business for at least twenty minutes. "Merry Christmas, Frannie." "Hi, Mom. I don't do Christmas." "Maybe not--but I do, so I'll say it." she told me in her sassy voice, kind of sweet and vinegary at the same time. "If I can respect your freedom of religion, you can respect my freedom of speech." I grinned and rolled my eyes. "And the score is Mom - one, Fran - nothing. But I love you, anyway." People were bustling around in the next room, setting up the altar, decking the halls with what I considered excessive amounts of holly and ivy, and singing something like, "O Solstice Tree." "It sounds like a...holiday party." Mom said. "We're doing Winter Solstice tonight." "Oh. That's sort of like your version of Christmas, right?" I wanted to snap back that Christmas was the Christian version of Solstice, but I held back. "We celebrate the return of the sun. It's a lot quieter than Christmas. No shopping sprees, no pine needles and tinsel on the floor, and it doesn't wipe me out. I remember how you had always worked yourself to a frazzle by December 26." "Oh honey, I loved doing all that stuff. I wouldn't trade those memories for all the spare time in the world. I wish you and Jack would loosen up a little for the baby's sake. When you were little, you enjoyed Easter bunnies and trick-or-treating and Christmas things. Since you've gotten into this Wicca religion, you sound a lot like Aunt Betty the year she was a Jehovah's Witness." I laughed nervously. "Yeah. How is Aunt Betty?" "Fine. She's into the Celestine Prophecy now, and she seems quite happy. Y'know," she went on, "Aunt Betty always said the Jehovah's Witnesses said those holiday things were pagan. So I don't see why you've given them up." "Uh, they've been commercialized and polluted beyond recognition. We're into very simple, quiet celebrations." "Well," she said dubiously, "as long as you're happy." Sometimes long distance is better than being there, 'cause your mother can't give you the look that makes you agree with everything she says. Jack rescued me by interrupting. "Hi, Ma." he called to the phone as he waved a beribboned sprig of mistletoe over my head. Then he kissed me, one of those quick noisy ones. I frowned at him. "Druidic tradition, Fran. Swear to Goddess." "Of course it is. Did the Druids use plastic berries?" "Always. We'll be needing you in about five minutes." "Okay. Gotta go, Mom. Love you." We had a nice, serene kind of Solstice Circle. No jingling bells or filked-out Christmas Carols. Soon after the last coven member left, Jack was ready to pack it in. "The baby's nestled all snug in her bed," he said with a yawn, "I think I'll go settle in for a long winter's nap." I heaved a martyred sigh. He grinned unrepentantly, kissed me, called me a grinch, and went to bed. I stayed up and puttered around the house, trying to unwind. I sifted through the day's mail, ditched the flyers urging us to purchase all the Seasonal Joy we could afford or charge. I opened the card from his parents. Another sermonette: a manger scene and a bible verse, with a handwritten note expressing his mother's fervent hope that God's love and Christmas spirit would fill our hearts in this blessed season. She means well, really. I amused myself by picking out every pagan element I could find in the card. When the mail had been sorted, I got up and started turning our ritual room back into a living room. As if the greeting card had carried a virus, I found myself humming Christmas carols. I turned on the classic rock station, but they were playing that Lennon-Ono Christmas song. I switched stations. The weatherman assured me that there was only a twenty percent chance of snow. Then, by Loki, the deejay let Bruce Springsteen insult my ears crooning, "yah better watch out, yah better not pout." I tried the Oldies station. Elvis lives, and he does Christmas songs. Okay, fine. We'll do classical--no, we won't. They're playing Handel's Messiah. Maybe the community radio station would have something secular humanist. "Ahora, escucharemos a Jose Feliciano canta `Feliz Navidad'." I was getting annoyed. The radio doesn't usually get this saturated with holiday mush until the twenty-fourth. "This is too weird." I said to the radio, "Cut that crap out." The country station had some Kenny Rogers Christmas tune, the first rock station had gone from John and Yoko's Christmas song to Simon and Garfunkel's "Silent Night," and the other rock station still had Springsteen reliving his childhood. "--I'm tellin' you why. SANTA Claus is comin' to town!" he bellowed. I was about to pick out a nice secular CD when there was a knock at the door. Now, it could have been a coven member who'd forgotten something. It could have been someone with car trouble. It could have been any number of things, but it certainly couldn't have been a stout guy in a red suit--snowy beard, rosy cheeks, and all--backed by eight reindeer and a sleigh. I blinked, wondered crazily where Rudolph was, and blinked again. There were nine reindeer. Our twenty-percent chance of snow had frosted the dead grass and was continuing to float down in fat flakes. "Hi, Frannie." he said warmly, "I've missed you." "I'm stone cold sober, and you don't exist." He looked at me with a mixture of sorrow and compassion and sighed heavily. "That's why I miss you, Frannie. Can I come in? We need to talk." I couldn't quite bring myself to slam the door on this vision, hallucination, or whatever. So I let him in, because that made more sense then letting all the cold air in while I argued with someone who wasn't there. As he stepped in, a thought crossed my mind about various entities needing an invitation to get in houses.He flashed me a smile that would melt the polar caps. "Don't you miss Christmas, Frannie?" "No." I said flatly, "Apparently you don't see me when I'm sleeping and waking these days. I haven't been Christian for years." "Oh, now don't let that stop you. We both know this holiday's older than that. Yule trees and Saturnalia and here-comes-the-sun, doodoodendoodoo." I raised an eyebrow at the Beatles reference, then gave him my standard sermonette on the appropriation and adulteration that made Christmas no longer a Pagan holiday. I had done my homework. I listed centuries, I named names--St. Nicholas among them. "In the twentieth century version," I assured him, "Christmas is two parts crass commercialism mixed with one part blind faith in a religion I rejected years ago." I gave him my best lines, the ones that had convinced my coven to abstain from Christmasy cliches. My hallucination sat in Jack's favorite chair, nodding patiently at me. "And you," I added nastily, "come here talking about ancient customs when you--in your current form--were invented in the nineteenth century by, um...Clement C. Moore." He laughed, a rolling, belly-deep chuckle unlike any department-store Santa I'd ever heard. "Of course I change my form now and then to suit fashion. Don't you? And does that stop you from being yourself?" He said, and asked me if I remembered Real Magic, by Isaac Bonewits. I gaped at him for a moment, then caught myself. "This is like `Labyrinth', right? I'm having a dream that pretends to be real, but is only made from pieces of things in my memory. You don't look a thing like David Bowie." "Bonewits has this Switchboard Theory." Santa went on amiably, "The energy you put into your beliefs influences the real existence of the archetypal--oh, let me put it simpler: `in the beginning, Man created God'. Ian Anderson." He lit a long-stemmed pipe. The tobacco had a mild and somehow Christmasy smell, and every puff sent up a wreath of smoke. "I'm afraid it's a bit more complicated than Bonewits tells it, but that's close enough for mortals. Are you with me so far?" "Oh, sure." I lied as unconvincingly as possible. Santa sighed heavily. "When's the last time you left out milk and cookies for me?" "When I figured out my parents were eating them." "Frannie, Frannie. Remember pinda balls, from Hinduism?" "Rice balls left as offerings for ancestors and gods." "Do Hindus really believe that the ancestors and gods eat pinda balls?" "All right, y'got me there. They say that spirits consume the spiritual essence, then mortals can have what's left." "Mm-hm." Santa smiled at me compassionately through his snowy beard. I rallied quickly. "What about the toys? I know for a fact they aren't made by you and a bunch of non-union elves." "Oh, that's quite true. Manufacturing physical objects out of magical energy is terribly expensive and breaks several laws of Nature--She only allows us to do that on special occasions. It certainly couldn't be done globally and annually. Now, the missus and the elves and I really do have a shop at the North Pole. Not the sort of thing the Air Force would ever find. What we make up there is what makes this time a holiday, no matter what religion it's called." "Don't tell me," I said, rolling my eyes, "you make the sun come back." "Oh my, no. The solar cycle stuff, the Reason For The Season, isn't my department. My part is making it a holiday. We make a mild, non-addictive psychedelic thing called Christmas spirit. Try some." He dipped his fingers in a pocket and tossed red-gold-green-silver glitter at me. I could have ducked. I don't know why I didn't. It smelled like snow, and pine needles, and cedar chips in the fireplace. It smelled like fruitcake, like roast turkey, like that foamy white stuff you spray on the window with stencils. It felt like a crisp wind, Grandma's hugs, fuzzy new mittens, pine needles scrunching under my slippers. I saw twinkly lights, mistletoe in the doorway, smiling faces from years gone by. Several Christmas carols played almost simultaneously in a kind of medley. I fought my way back to my living room and glared sternly at the hallucination in Jack's chair. "Fun stuff. Does the DEA know about this?" "Oh, Frannie. Why are you such a hard case? I told you it's non-addictive and has no harmful side effects. Would Santa Claus lie to you?" I opened my mouth and closed it again. We looked at each other a while. "Can I have some more of that glittery stuff?" "Mmmm. I think you need something stronger. Try a sugarplum." I tasted rum ball. Peppermint. Those hard candies with the picture all the way through. Mama's favorite fudge. A chorus line of Christmas candies danced through my mouth. The Swedish Angel Chimes, run on candle power, say tingatingatingating. Mama, with a funny smile, promised to give Santa my letter. Greeting cards taped on the refrigerator door. We rode through the tree farm on a straw-filled trailer pulled by a red and green tractor, looking for a perfect pine. It was so big, Daddy had to cut a bit off so the star wouldn't scrape the ceiling. Lights, ornaments, tinsel. Daddy lifted me up to the mantle to hang my stocking. My dolls stayed up to see Santa Claus, and in the morning they all had new clothes. Grandma carried in a platter with the world's biggest turkey, and I got the drumstick. Joey's Christmas puppy chased my Christmas kitten up the tree and it would have fallen over but Daddy held it while Mama got the kitten out. Daddy said every bad word there was but he kept laughing anyway. I sneaked my favorite plastic horse into the nativity scene, between the camels and the donkey. I came back to reality slowly, with a silly smile on my face and a tickly feeling behind my eyes like they wanted to cry. The phrase "visions of sugarplums" took on a whole new meaning. "How long has it been," Santa asked, "since you played with a nativity set?-" "But it symbolizes--" "The winter-born king. The sacred Mother and her sun-child. Got a problem with that? You could recorate it with pentagrams if you like, they'll look fine. As for the Christianization, I've heard who you invoke at Imbolc." "But Bridgid was a Goddess for centuries before the Catholic Church-oh." I crossed my arms and tried to glare at him, but failed. "You're a sneaky old elf, y'know?" "The term is `jolly old elf.' Care for another sugarplum?" I did. I tasted gingerbread. My first nip of eggnog the way the grown-ups drink it. Fresh sugar cookies, shaped like trees and decked with colored frosting. Dad had been laid off, but we managed a lot of cheer. They told us Christmas would be "slim pickings." Joey and I smiled bravely when Mama brought home that spindly spruce. We loaded down our "Charlie Brown Christmas Tree" with every light and ornament it could hold. Popcorn and cranberry strings for the outdoor trees. Mistletoe in the hall: plastic mistletoe, real kisses. Joey and I snipped and glued and stitched and painted treasures to give as presents. We agonized over our "Santa" letters...by now we knew where the goodies came from, and we tried to compromise between what we longed for and what we thought they could afford. Every day we hoped the factory would reopen. When Joey's dog ate my mitten, I wasn't brave. I knew that meant I'd get mittens for Christmas, and one less toy. I cried. On December twenty-fifth we opened our presents ve-ery slo-wly, drawing out the experience. We made a show of cheer over our socks and shirts and meager haul of toys. I got red mittens. We could tell Mama and Daddy were proud of us for being so brave, because they were grinning like crazy. "Go out to the garage for apples." Mama told us, "We'll have apple pancakes." I don't remember having the pancakes. There was a dollhouse in the garage. No mass-produced aluminum thing but a homemade plywood dollhouse with wall-papered walls and real curtains and thread-spool chairs. My dolls were inside, with newly sewn clothes. Joey was on his knees in front of a plywood barn with hay in the loft. His old farm implements had new paint. Our plastic animals were corralled in popsicle stick fences. The garage smelled like apples and hay, the cement was bone-chilling under my slippers, and I was crying. My knees were drawn up to my chest, arms wrapped around them. My chest felt tight, like ice cracking in sunshine. Santa offered me a huge white handkerchief. When all the ice in my chest had melted, he cleared his throat. He was pretty misty-eyed, too. "Want to come sit on my lap and tell me what you want for Christmas?" "You've already given it to me." But I sat on his lap anyway, and kissed his rosy cheek until he did his famous laugh. "I'd better go now, Frannie. I have other stops to make, and you have work to do." "Right. I'd better pop the corn tonight, it strings best when it's stale." I let him out the door. The reindeer were pawing impatiently at the moon-kissed new-fallen snow. I'd swear Rudolph winked at me. "Don't forget the milk and cookies." "Right. Uh, December twenty-fourth, or Solstice, or what?" He shrugged. "Whatever night you expect me, I'll be there. Eh, don't wait up. Visits like this are tightly rationed. Laws of Nature, y'know, and She's strict with them." "Gotcha. Thanks, Santa." I kissed his cheek again. "Happy Holidays." The phrase had a nice, non-denominational ring to it. I thought I'd call my parents and in-laws soon and try it out on them. Santa laid his finger aside of his nose and nodded. "Blessed be, Frannie." The sleigh soared up, and Santa really did exclaim something. It sounded like old German. Smart-aleck elf. When I closed the door, the radio was playing Jethro Tull's "Solstice Bells." HAPPY HOLIDAYS!!! Gina froze in time on 2:05 PM [ | ]
Tuesday, December 13, 2005Where would Jesus Shop? Walmart is under attack this holiday season, because of it's values. New commercials are trying to appeal, not to outrage, but to you ethics. Sixty-five religious leaders have joined union activists in asserting that the nation's largest retail chain should "change for the better" this holiday season, a move one union watchdog called a "cynical ploy" intended to "tarnish Wal-Mart's name in time for Christmas." The religous and community leaders signed a joint letter to CEO, Leo Scott, that stated: "The holiday season is a time to honor and remember the virtues of hope, love, joy, sharing, sacrifice and faith. According to CBS News, Walmart's respons: Wal-Mart accused the group of using union dues to exploit religion and said it would give nearly $200 million in cash contributions to charities this year. Wake up Walmart has launched holiday comercials appealing to the Our Morals "Would you shop at walmart if you knew..." and "Are walmart values, your family values? This holiday season your family deserves better." Musings of a crunchy, domestic goddess has a great post called "Walmart and what's wrong with our thinking"
And If you have not yet seen the Jibjab movie about "big box mart" it is very funny big box mart Gina froze in time on 10:47 AM [ | ]
Monday, December 12, 2005Legacy of a Gang Killer California Gov. Arnold Schwarzenegger has denied clemency for convicted killer Stanley Tookie Williams.I try and stay away from the media circus and try and find the "left out" news stories, but with the impending execution of Stanley "Tookie" Williams at midnight tonight I have had a few thought on my mind. If you don't know who Mr. Williams, he was the co-founder of the Crips street gang, based out of Compton, California. The Crips are are know to be the most violent street gangs in our nation right now, while personally I don't think they rival some of the gangs that roamed the streets in New York at the turn of the century. They and the Blood street gang held Compton in the fist of violence for decades. You can find Crips "members" all across the country. He left a trail of blood, pain and death from his youth in this gang, and is due to die for these crimes tonight. He is personally responsible (in the eyes of the law) for fourdeaths, but the blood of many, many others are on his hands. But he has tried to make up for this actions; He has denounced the Crips, He has dedicated himself to educate young people as to the true nature of gang violence, He has written books for teens denouncing gangs (on that, he receives no money for having written the Tookie Speaks Out series and Life in Prison. He is donating proceeds to several non-profit organizations, including Mothers Against Gang Wars, located in South Central Los Angeles, California.). He has tried to make up for what he has done, for which he deserves credit. I think this case really comes down to the core of the questions we need to ask about our criminal justice system. Is it for Punishment, Correction of Crimes against society, or Rehabilitation? In two of the three cases, I believe that Mr Williams and our nation is being served by our justice system. He seems to be rehabilitated and has, and is, working to correct the damage he has caused, but has he been punished enough for the four (and countless unpunished) deaths he caused? I am against the death penalty, and I can say that with having a family member brutally murdered by her boyfriend. I think the death penalty has major faults, the most glaring is that is non-reversible! The cost alone (the countless appeals, which are necessary to help prevent mistakes) should be enough to put a fair many off the death penalty! But what ever comes of this case, I hope we really take time to think about what we want out of our justice system. Let's reexamine how we treat our prisoners, and our victims, and maybe Mr. Williams can leave another legacy behind! tookie williams Gina froze in time on 2:34 PM [ | ]
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The chaotic life of a (exausted) mother of
2 little mosters, I mean children. These are my thoughts on life and the world around me, so I can talk about things other than diapers! Current news, health and women's issues.
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