Walking for What?

I know this may not be a popular opinion, but it's my blog, so what the heck. A friend of mine made a facebook post about teenagers going on a thirty hour fast to raise money to feed the hungry. First of all, let me say that I applaud these kids for thinking of someone other than themselves, which is a challenge for all of us, especially when we're teenagers. But I just don't get it. At the end of the day (or the thirty hours) you've done nothing but starve yourself, which in my opinion isn't healthy. I know some people think fasting is healthy, but I do not. It's the same think with 'Walks' for something. Okay, you've walked for three days and given yourself blisters and sore muscles. But what if that time was spent picking up trash, painting elderly people's homes, clearing out a vacant lot and turning it into a playground, organizing programs for underprivileged kids? Doing something productive and lasting? That's what I'm talking about. Yes, you've raised money and that's great. But what if you used that time/effort to actually DO something other than walk or not eat. Like I said, just my two cents.

Supermodel Makeovers

Chloe and Tyra (my next door daughter) did Supermodel makeovers last night. They were so cute! It only takes a few minutes to turn from 12 to 21! (sometimes it seems that way, huh?) Before - two sweet young girls. As usual, Ozzy is there to oversee. He was napping in the hamper in my closet because of course, the girls were into my makeup, jewelry, purses and heels. After: Attitude is everything Love this pose Very Dramatic Then they put their jammies on and we all three shared a piece of cheesecake. They didn't even throw up afterward! LOL

Happy Birthday, Jack

Eighteen years ago today, I gave birth to a baby boy named Jack. It was a sunny Fall day and he was already a week overdue. Sick of my whining, my Doctor told me to come to his office early that morning and he’d break my water. Then I could walk next door to the hospital and say “My water broke!” and they’d have no choice but to admit me. Many hours, contractions, an IV of Pitocin, an epidural, a knotted umbilical cord and ultimately a c-section later, he arrived, weighing in at a whopping 9 pounds and 1 ounce. After the fog of Demoral subsided, I held him in my arms and fell in love. I remember our first night at home. He was asleep in the little white bassinet next to my bed and there I lay. Wide awake, my mind racing. “What if I’m doing something wrong? I don’t know what I’m doing. What if he stops breathing? He hasn’t had a lot of practice at that. What was I thinking? Why did they let me bring him home?!” Eventually, the panic subsided and I was resigned to the fact that I would never, ever sleep again. There have been many milestones, firsts, birthdays, laughter, tears, hugs and sleepless nights. Jack is now and has always been a joy. He has grown into a sweet, responsible, and loving young man. Sure, he’s still a teenager, but he’s mine. We used to play Power Ranger action figures when he was little. I always had to be the Girl Power Rangers – the Yellow and Pink ones. Jack wanted the boy Power Rangers to ‘save’ them from the bad guys. I always made sure that the girls saved themselves or at least did as much fighting as the boys. When he was a little older, we’d put his baby sister down for a nap and sneak off to create elaborate Lego buildings or entire towns, complete with characters and stories. We read the Harry Potter books together. I taught him to drive at 15. Now, we watch scary movies or old classics together. He used to stand on the staircase a few steps above me and say ‘Look, Mommy! Someday I’ll be taller than you - like this!”. Sure enough, he’s about 6’3” and has to bend down to hug me. Happy Birthday, Jackson Everett Baldwin! Once upon a time we were young together. Thank you for making me a Mommy and for always taking the time to play with me. You are a blessing and I love you!