Sitting At The Grown Up Table

I grew up in Florida. Most of my mother's family lived in Arizona, and we would visit during the summer, but never on holidays. When I was eighteen, I spent my first Christmas with my mother's family. I was surprised, when I went to my aunt's house for the big family dinner, and found my place card sitting at the children's table. Inside, I bristled up with a little bit of indignation, but I didn't say anything. 

I was married the next year, and Katarina was born the year after that.

Twenty-one years old. Katarina and I visit Arizona for Thanksgiving. We arrive at my aunt's house for the family dinner, and I see my place card, sitting by a plate.....at the children's table. 

There were times during that trip, and subsequent trips, when I felt there was a super special grown-up club for the adults, that I was never going to be invited to join.  I got used to not being included in the conversations, or family decisions. It hurt, but I grew to accept as fact, I would never be considered an adult to them.

It didn't matter that I was married or that I was a mother, I would always be relegated to the children's table in the minds of my family.

Twenty-seven years old. Katarina and I spent a few days with my cousin Lori and her family. One night, Lori's friend Elaina came over after dinner. She was sitting in the living room. Her foot was in a cast, and she wasn't supposed to be walking on it. Elaina called out across the house, "Okay women! Lori, Tracie, come in here and talk with me for a little bit, before I go home." 

There was a moment of surprise that she had included me in that invitation.

Then, understanding hit. Elaina looked beyond my family, and the years she had watched me grow up, and she saw me as a woman.

I had just been invited to the grown up table. I had graduated.

The Red Dress Club prompt: 
Remember a graduation.

Did your family have a separate children's table? 
How old where you, when you got to sit with the grown ups? 

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Memorial Day

In the United States, today is Memorial Day. 

A time to remember the men and women who have lost their lives serving in our military.

Thank you.

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Amy Sullivan Writes About Giving

In the blog world there are these precious gems.

Blogs that make you dig deep within yourself and think.

Think!

Examine!

Do more, be more, give more.....

Amy Sullivan writes one of those blogs.

One summer, she stole nine bathing suits.
She writes about bravery, and honesty, and dreams.
She challenged me to simplify by de-stuffing.
One day she went without water, and bought a duck.

And today, she is sharing my story of giving my hair.

If you have a story about giving, Amy would love to read and share it.

Go meet Amy...I know you will love her!

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Keys and Margaritas

This was absolutely the last time I will lock my keys in my car.

That is what I was telling myself, as I tried to break into my car for the third time that month.

It was the perfect end to a terrible day.

That morning, I started a new job.

On the way there, I spilled coffee down the front of my white shirt.

Thankfully, I found a sweater in my backseat that covered most of the spill. Unfortunately, it was the middle of August and 96 degrees, which meant that sweater had probably been on my floorboard for a very long time.

My new boss didn't seem too excited to see me when I walked in....possibly because I was two minutes late, and wearing a crumpled sweater.

By ten o'clock, I had done something to the copy machine that caused it to lock up and become unusable for the rest of the day.

Lunch in the break-room sent me spiraling back into middle school, when all the cool girls sat together and I sat....somewhere else.  I grabbed a candy bar and ate it at my desk.

My new boss stopped by and told me the file I had spent all morning working on was wrong, and I needed to start over and redo the entire thing.

In the afternoon I met Keith, who was really cute.

I made a great impression by getting all tongue-tied, tripping over a wastebasket, and falling on him.

Jessica, the snooty girl whose cubicle I was sharing, leaned over and told me that I should probably go ahead and quit, because our boss already told her that she didn't like me, and she was pretty sure that no one else did either.

And now here I am. Locked out of my car, standing in the parking lot while Jessica walks by with three friends, laughing at me.

Clearly getting out of bed today had been a bad idea, as had the job.

I should go ahead and quit when I go back inside to call a locksmith.

"Need some help?"

I look up, and see Keith standing beside me, with a hint of a smile on his face.

"Are you any good at breaking into cars?"

"Possibly. How do you feel about Mexican food? A job like that could make a guy pretty hungry, and you look like you could use a margarita."

I think I'll give this job another try, tomorrow couldn't possibly be so bad.

And as for Jessica's declaration that nobody liked me? Maybe she was wrong.

This fiction is in response to the prompt from The Red Dress Club:

Write a short piece - 600 words max - that begins with the words, "This was absolutely the last time" and ends with "She was wrong."


Comments and Constructive Criticism are always appreciated. 

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Looking at Corn

Thomas likes to make surprises.

The first time we took Katarina to Disney World, there was much talk about visiting a flea market, up until the moment we pulled onto the Disney property.

Even little things are surprise-worthy.

Thomas is going to put a movie into the DVD player? DON'T LOOK! It is a surprise.
Thomas goes into the kitchen to prepare a snack? DON'T LOOK! It is a surprise.

*********
Katarina has decided that she wants to become a vegetarian.

This is going to be interesting, because she is a picky eater, and generally does not like vegetables.

We have spent the last two weeks having many conversations about vegetables, nutrition, and new foods to try, in order to make this work.

*********

This weekend, we decided to go see Thor. Thomas looked at me with the surprise-gleam in his eyes, "Don't tell Katarina. Let's surprise her!"

We went about our normal day; ran some errands, stopped by a tree job, talked about vegetables.

I brought up corn. Katarina's response, "Corn is not really my thing, Mom."

Thomas and I talked about different ways that corn can be prepared. My personal corn feeling is, it should be eaten on the cob, but Thomas is open to other options. He even tried telling her how some corn comes in different colors. She was not buying it.

As he glanced into the back seat, I caught a glimpse of the gleam in his eye, "I know what we need to do, go look at some corn! You don't have to try any today, if you don't want to. We can just go look at it."

"I guess we could look at it. Is it far away?" Katarina asked

"We are actually pretty close to the corn place," I answered.

I held my breath for just a second as we pulled up next to the mall where the movie theater is housed. Just as I expected, Katarina noticed it, "Look! There is the mall. May we go look around a little?"

"Not today, we don't have time," answered Thomas.

"Dad. I have agreed to go look at corn with you, even though I think it is completely insane. Couldn't you reconsider my idea, which was completely normal?"

He turns the corner and we pull into the parking garage. "You changed your mind? We are going to look around?"

"No. It just so happens that the place with the corn is inside the mall."

Thor was awesome! So was the "corn".

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May Edition - Blog Carnival Against Child Abuse

The May Edition of the Blog Carnival Against Child Abuse is up at Kate1975's Blog.

This month's theme is Self Care. 

I want to thank Kate for all the work she did this month, hosting and organizing the carnival. Also, yesterday was Kate's birthday, so....

Happy (late) birthday, Kate! 

There are a lot of great submissions. I hope that you will be blessed as you read through them, and show some support to those who have shared their hearts and healing journeys with us this month.

Thank you for raising your voice and speaking out against child abuse. 

The Blog Carnival Against Child Abuse provides an opportunity to raise awareness about the serious issue of child abuse and to share important posts with others who may not be frequent readers of an author's blog, and expose one's work to a wider audience. There are so many wonderful bloggers who are contributing to the cause of ending and recovering from child abuse. If you, as a reader or author, know of other blogs that you find helpful, please encourage them to submit to an upcoming issue of the Carnival Against Child Abuse; and please bookmark that page so we can continue to receive high quality submissions from a wide swath of bloggers.

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Ben Stein Wrote About Sexual Assault

What does a rapist look like? According to Ben Stein, not like an economist.  


Dominique Strauss-Kahn is the head of the International Monetary Fund. 
He is also the man who is accused of sexually assaulting a maid at the Hotel Sofitel on May 14, 2011. 


The rape apologizers and conspiracy theorists are out in full force, commenting on the case. Among the commentary is an article by Ben Stein, published in the The American Spectator. 


In this article, he makes several points that I find to be ridiculous, here is one: 

"In life, events tend to follow patterns. People who commit crimes tend to be criminals, for example. Can anyone tell me any economists who have been convicted of violent sex crimes? Can anyone tell me of any heads of nonprofit international economic entities who have ever been charged and convicted of violent sexual crimes? Is it likely that just by chance this hotel maid found the only one in this category? Maybe Mr. Strauss-Kahn is guilty but if so, he is one of a kind, and criminals are not usually one of a kind."

After a few minutes of googling, I was able to find several (and these are just the ones who have been convicted, not the ones who have been charged, but not yet tried):
-Robert Von der Ohe, Former Rockford College Economics Professor Pleads Guilty to Sexual Abuse
-Col. Russel Williams and Paul Bernardo, Williams and Bernard were College Pals (at the University of Toronto where they both graduated with degrees in economics)
-Joseph Sheffer, Cobourg's Former Economic Director Goes to Jail for Sexual Assault


Let me assure you, and Mr. Stein, that each of those crimes were violent. Sex crimes, rape and sexual assault, are violent acts. There is no such thing as a non-violent sex crime. 


All criminals start somewhere. They aren't born criminals. At some point in their life, they make the decision to commit that first crime.


There is no set template for a rapist, just as there is no set template for a child molester. You can not look at someone and say, "He is a economist (or journalist, or teacher, or mechanic, or musician, or any other profession) and therefore can not possibly be a rapist." Just like you can not say that they are a rapist, based only on their profession.


Another point from Mr. Stein:

"People accuse other people of crimes all of the time. What do we know about the complainant besides that she is a hotel maid? ... How do we know that this woman's word was good enough to put Mr. Strauss-Kahn straight into a horrific jail? Putting a man in Riker's is serious business. Maybe more than a few minutes of investigation is merited before it's done."

What do I know about the complainant? 
-She reported the alleged crime to a detective from the Manhattan Special Victims Unit.
-She was taken to a hospital for an exam. 
-She picked Strauss-Kahn out of a lineup. 
-She testified before the grand jury.


Yesterday, the grand jury handed up an indictment, and when asked about the case, Manhattan DA Cyrus Vance said, “The evidence supports the commission of non-consensual sexual acts. These are extremely serious charges.” It seems to me that more than a few minutes of investigation have happened to get Strauss-Kahn to this place.


There is much about this case that I do not know, many answers that I do not have. 


That is what trials are for, the opportunity for both sides to present their case and let a jury decided. 


If the jury does their job, they will make their decision based on the evidence, not based on the profession of the defendant. 


They will make their decision based on the evidence, not based on the background of the victim. 


Which is exactly how it should be.


I wonder, does Mr. Stein fancy himself as a representative of all economists accused of heinous crimes? And for what reason? So that he can have his name mentioned on a few news programs? If that was his goal, then he certainly succeeded. 


Unfortunately, he also succeeded in questioning the woman's background and truthfulness, turning a sexual assault case into a conversation about the hatred of rich people, and perpetuating the stereotype that a victim must be intimidated by the presence of a weapon for it to really be a sexual assault. And those successes, are a detriment to us all, even the economists.

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Let's Talk Mental Health

It started when I was a kid.

Probably related to the sexual abuse that I survived.

After my daughter was born, I realized that there was a whole other side of it that I had not experienced. I quickly became acquainted with the postpartum version.

Today, I still struggle.

I fight against the darkness that threatens to overwhelm me.

Sometimes I sleep too much, not able to overcome the tiredness that seems to seep into my soul.

I eat too much, or not at all.

I fight against the thoughts that race through my mind.

I struggle to put thoughts together, on days when even thinking seems too much, too hard, too impossible.

There is a sadness, that the word sad does not even begin in cover.

Despair. Melancholia. Despondency. Hopelessness. Depression.

My name is Tracie, and I am the face of 

Depression and Postpartum Depression 

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May is Mental Health Month. Mental Illnesses are medical conditions - not a sign of weakness or something that a person can just "snap out of". Having a mental illness does not make you a bad person or a failure.

Everything is better with support! If you have a story to share, want to know you are not alone, or want more information, The Band is here to help. 

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I See Dots

I love my polka dot blanket. It is a wonderful thing to cuddle up in the embrace of warm, fluffy polka dots and read a book. 

Sunday night, I'm sitting with my blanket, discussing the origin of the polka dot with Thomas, who is convinced that there is no "L" and it doesn't count if you don't use the plural on the end of dot. In his world, they are "Poka Dots" and he will not be convinced otherwise. 

In the 1800's, the Polka was so popular, people used the word when naming all sorts of non-polka related things, including dots.

Maybe the folks at Godey's Lady's Book loved the polka or maybe they just loved dots, but in May of 1857, Godey's mentioned the polka dot, "Scarf of muslin, for light summer wear...surrounded by a scalloped edge, embroidered in rows of round polka dots."  I wonder if I could find one of those scarves?  

I love to think about that fashion writer, so long ago, talking about my favorite dots...but Thomas is just concerned that they spelled it wrong and nobody stopped them.

I have a certain affinity for Godey's Lady's Book due to a story in Arleta Richardson's, Still More Stories From Grandma's Attic, which was one of my favorites when I was a child. I even remember the polka dotted dress that Mabel is wearing in the illustration.

It doesn't really matter when or where these dots first danced into the world. I would love them if they wanted to waltz, ballet, or even tap. (Because, really, who doesn't love a good tap dance?) 

I would still cuddle up in the embrace of my blanket of polka dotted goodness to read, and wear the skirt that my polka dot-loving mom found for me a few years ago (maybe the love of polka dots is genetic). Occasionally I would sing songs of polka dots on days when I was feeling particularly silly, and on days when I needed cheering or inspiration, I would make pictures full of dots.

Because I love those dots, and they make me happy.

And I love my polka dot blanket, no matter how much my family teases me. 

And after all this talk about my blanket, I understand if you want to call me Linus, I just ask that you don't leave out the "L". 

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Go Short - How to Give From the Heart and the Head!

Giving.

Giving can feel daunting.

Even when you want to give, sometimes you don't have the money, or the time, or the big idea

but.....

Giving does not always equal money.

Giving does not have to be big or elaborate.

Giving is really about the heart.

Small things can make a BIG difference.

The gift of food (or of an afternoon spent volunteering) for a soup kitchen or food bank can feed a family who is struggling.

The gift of a sweet card, sent unexpectantly, can provide a smile and some encouragement.

Yesterday I gave something that wasn't big, but it was very long....
(something that I really loved!)

For a woman who is going through cancer treatment, loosing hair can be part of the process. Wigs are expensive, especially on top of big medical bills. Pantene Beautiful Lengths will take your hair and make it into a wig that the American Cancer Society will give to a woman free of charge.

That is my LONG hair on the right.

Donating hair is simple: First, you grow, grow, grow your hair. 

Second, you make a quick trip to visit your hairstylist.

The donated hair must be at least 8 inches long, so make sure you measure it!

Separate your hair into sections and tie them with elastic bands so that the hair stays together. They can not use hair that is loose, so it is a good idea to put an elastic band every few inches on each section of hair.

(When Eva, my hairstylist, pulled out the clippers to cut off the first section of hair, I thought about Jo selling her hair when Marmee had to go to Washington DC to care for Mr. March.)

Look at all the hair! 

After the sections of hair have been cut, place them in a zip-lock bag, and seal it tightly, because you don't want the hair to work its way out of the elastic bands or get wet/damaged before you mail it.

Now it is time to embrace your short hair, and get a cute cut and style.

Having someone wash my hair is the best part of the haircut. Bliss.

Eva cutting my hair.

The "new" Tracie

This 15 inches of hair won't cure cancer, but hopefully it will make a hard time in a woman's life a little easier.

Have you ever donated your hair?
What are some creative ways to give - big or small?

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Seven Minute Calls

I sat down on my grandmother's green couch, and dialed the numbers messily scrawled on a scrap of dark blue paper. I was seven years old, and my best friend, Sarah, slipped the paper to me after school, and told me to call her. It was the first time I had called a friend just to chat. 

Ring Ring

Ring Ring

"May I please speak to Sarah?" 

With those words, I became a phone person. 

Sarah lived about forty-five minutes away from me. Neither of us were in traditional neighborhoods with sidewalks covered in chalk drawings, and basketball hoops sticking out over garage doors, and kids playing outside until dark. We both had a lot of time to kill.

So we talked. And talked. And talked. 

The battery in my grandparent's phone died, and I switched to the wall phone so we could talk some more.

Those long afternoon calls were a haven of normalcy for me. 

We discussed very important things: the color we would paint our living room walls when we grew up and shared an apartment, who was the cutest in our class - Ryan or Ben, what songs we would be singing in Wednesday night choir, string cheese, who was cuter on tv - Zach or Slater (I was a Zach girl), all the ways her older brother drove us crazy, clay pits, homework, and whether she should stick with the purple color in her hair or switch to a light blue.

We talked a lot about books, and I'm pretty sure that one summer day she read an entire Baby Sitter's Club book to me during a particularly long phone call. 

When I wasn't on the phone with Sarah, there were calls to be made to Stephanie and Leigh Anne.

There were so many phone calls, my grandmother eventually got tired of me tying up her line, and decided some limits needed to be put in place. 

That was the day she pulled out the hourglass. 

She set it on the small table by the green couch, and explained that I could have one call a day, timed by the sand.

Sadly, although called an hourglass, this particular timepiece was only good for about seven minutes. 

A small stream of sand. 

Falling. Falling. 

Seven minutes. 

Now five. 

Now three.

"You have to talk faster, Sarah!"

The last grain of sand fell to the bottom and our time was finished. 

The phone hung up, I was back to the real world. 

The Red Dress Club Prompt:

Sand.

Did you talk on the phone when you were a kid? What kind of important things did you discuss? 

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Now Accepting Submission for the May 2011 Edition of the Blog Against Child Abuse

The Blog Carnival Against Child Abuse is a monthly event. Its purpose is to raise awareness about the serious issue of child abuse. All forms of abuse—physical, emotional, sexual, spiritual, verbal—are discussed. We highlight blog posts, from child abuse survivor stories and their art & poetry, to child abuse as a topic in the news media, as well as PTSD, dissociation and other areas of the abuse "aftermath" that adult survivors are forced to deal with. We also link to hopeful posts about therapy, recovery and healing from abuse. All forms of child advocacy and awareness are included.


The May edition of the Blog Carnival Against Child Abuse will be hosted at Kate1975's Blog. 

Our theme this month is Self-Care. Kate's announcement post has a great introduction to the theme.


All of our regular categories will also be open:
-Advocacy and Awareness
-Aftermath
-Healing and Therapy
-In the News
-Poetry
-Survivor Stories
-Art Therapy


The deadline for submissions is May 18th, and I'm excited to see what y'all will share this month. 
You can submit something written especially for this edition, but please feel free to submit an older post as well. 


As always, if you have any problems with the submission site, you can email your link and information directly to me at BlogCarnivalAgainstChildAbuse@gmail.com 

The Blog Carnival Against Child Abuse provides an opportunity to raise awareness about the serious issue of child abuse and to share important posts with others who may not be frequent readers of an author's blog, and expose one's work to a wider audience. There are so many wonderful bloggers who are contributing to the cause of ending and recovering from child abuse. If you, as a reader or author, know of other blogs that you find helpful, please encourage them to submit to an upcoming issue of the Carnival Against Child Abuse; and please bookmark that page so we can continue to receive high quality submissions from a wide swath of bloggers.

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A Heart To GO!

I want to introduce you to Jenny and Isaac Johnson. I met Jenny when we were both in middle school, and all these years later, we are still friends. 

This is Jenny, and she is going to share a bit of her story with you.....

When I was 17, my life changed forever because of one small word:


Go. 


I’m not one of those people who audibly hear God speaking to them; in fact, probably the most-oft voiced prayer of my heart to the Lord is “Please give me wisdom, clarity, and direction.” But the summer before my senior year of high school, I heard God speak to me in a way I never heard or have heard since.  And that one small word changed everything.  My whole focus shifted, and I began discovering my true passion and love of working with the nations.


My husband, Isaac, and I met while at university, but I think we fell in love dreaming of what it would be like to go to the nations together.  Our passion for international mission work was the first thing we discovered we had in common (well, that, and our secret love for Phil Collins).  In fact, when we got married, our groom’s cake was in the shape of Africa (and it was deliciously awesome). Most of our life together has been preparing for leaving our comfort zone in the United States in order to live among the nations.  We still are not completely sure where we will live once Isaac completes his seminary degree, but we know that the Lord has called us to go- but not just to wait until we can live overseas.  He has called us to go now. 

*********

In graduate school, I tailored all of my research, papers, projects, and presentations to HIV/AIDS in Africa.  My master's thesis was designing a multi-faceted AIDS intervention program to be implemented in the small African country of Swaziland.  I spent countless hours researching the AIDS pandemic and its effects on the Swazi people, pouring over statistics that seemed too incredulous to be reality, and learning in just a very small way how the HIV/AIDS virus can devastate an entire nation.  

When I wrote my thesis, over four years ago, these were the statistics:  

• Forty-one percent of Swaziland's population were under the age of 15
• The average life expectancy at birth was 32 for men and 33 for women
• The HIV prevalence rate was 33 percent, the highest of any nation in the world
• Sixty thousand orphans resided in Swaziland

According to Heart for Africa, the average life expectancy is now 29.  Twenty-nine years old.  Isaac and I both turn twenty-nine this year.  There are now 200,000 orphans in a country the size of New Jersey, and the HIV prevalence rate is now 42 percent.  Fifteen thousand households are headed by orphans, and if the trend continues as it is, there will be no adults left in Swaziland by the year 2020.  






This knowledge breaks our hearts; and while these numbers bring us to tears and leave us stunned, we cling to the hope that is graciously given by our Christ.  He knows the people of Swaziland; He loves them and cares for them.  And He is calling us to show His love for them. 


We hear these numbers, and are moved to action.


In November, we will be traveling with the organization Heart of Africa to work in the HIV/AIDS-ravished country of Swaziland.  We'll be working with widows and orphans, those who have no jobs, those who have little or no food- these are people the world deems 'the least of these'- and these are the people whom we desire to serve. 

There are many things which require preparation before we can go and serve in Swaziland, but most of all, we ask that our trip would be bathed in prayer as we seek to joyfully serve those whom the world has deemed "the least of these."

That is my wonderful friend, Jenny. She and Isaac have hearts that want to GO! 

This is where you come in. They both need to raise $3,550 by October to go to Swaziland, and here are a few ways that you can help:

Fundraising Page

• Visit Jenny and Isaac's fundraising page, and donate. All donations are tax-deductible!

Lia Sophia Fundraiser

• A Lia Sophia advisor is helping Jenny and Isaac host a fundraiser. Instead of earning free jewelry, they will be earning funds to help them get to Swaziland. The advisor is also donating her commission from the party and from any other party (including catalog and online shows) that is booked from their show.
• Visit this Lia Sophia site. In the 'Look up your hostess' section, type 'Jenny Johnson'.
• Shop away! 
• Book a show: earn free jewelry for yourself and funds for Jenny and Isaac's trip to Swaziland!

Pray!

I would love it if you would visit Jenny's blog, and leave her some love and encouragement! 

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Happiness On A Hot Summer Day

Imagine with me that you are standing inside a giant furnace, and you are surrounded by vats of boiling water. That is what the temperature is like in Florida when summer approaches.

In that kind of situation, ice cream is a necessity.

(That orange and cream dreamsicle-like bar  is mine, all MINE!) 

It is too hot to get in your car and drive to the store to get ice cream, but ice cream is the only thing that will combat the furnace. 

What will you do?

Wait!

That sound! What is that sound?  

It is the sweet jingly song of an ice cream truck coming your way. 

The most beautiful sound in the world. 

Ice cream always tastes better when you run outside and catch the ice cream truck. 

In that minute, you capture a little snippet of childhood, and if you are really blessed, get to share it with a child of your own.

Happiness is a visit from the ice cream truck on a hot summer day. 

What is making you happy today?

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