I am truly torn. I loved Michael Jackson's music and Thriller was the first album I bought with my own money. Money I earned babysitting. But I just can't ignore the strong chance that Michael Jackson was a pedophile who molested children.

I know he was acquitted in a court of law, but acquitted does not mean innocent. You just can't ignore 10 counts of felony child abuse.

Having said all that, I am putting aside my feelings of disgust aside for 1 day. One day to honor, not him as a sick grown man, but to honor him as the young and extraordinarily talented child.

For just one day I am going to ignore the outrage I feel about our cash-strapped state having to pay roughly $4million for the security and structure of this funeral.

I am going to set my Tivo before I go to the gym, and run errands. Considering the celebrity line-up that is being rumored to attend , and perform, his funeral should provide me some great t.v. to watch while I fold laundry. Let's see; Mariah Carey, John Mayer, Stevie Wonder, Jennifer Hudson and possibly Queen Latifah. Maybe some Jackson siblings will sing or speak. Maybe some other celebrities will perform or speak.

A loose itinerary is listed below, but I am watching MSNBC right now, and it looks like they are already running an hour behind.

Schedule of events:
(All times Pacific)
8:00 a.m. - Doors to the Staples Center open.
9:00 a.m. - Live feed from outside the Staples Center begins.
9:30 a.m. - Live shots of celebrity arrivals.
10:30 a.m. - Ceremony begins with live coverage on five different TV networks.
1:00 p.m. - Live coverage of memorial scheduled to end.

R.I.P. Michael Jackson, the young boy.

I Hate Prop 8

So today started off pretty awesome with a Hispanic woman being picked as a nominee, for our nation's Supreme Court. But then civil rights took a step backwards just as quickly as it progressed. The horribly hateful Proposition 8 was upheld by California's Supreme Court. 6-1. To quote my brother Brandon, that is "6 justices who don't believe in civil rights.". I was angry and disappointed, but I turned off the television, and had a nice playdate with a friend and her adorable son. Then comes naptime, and my computer time, and now I am really angry after reading an article on S.F. Gate.

These are the paragraphs in particular that made me angry:



Among the first to go were Shawn Higgins and Robert Franco of San Francisco. The two men, who said they are engaged to marry, had stood for about an hour in the intersection calmly kissing while demonstrators all around them screamed, "Prop. 8 will go down, San Francisco (is a) big queer town" and other slogans.

Damn straight San Francisco is a big queer town! (excuse the pun) And don't you forget it! Who let the Prop 8 supporters over the bridges?!



Jorge Riley, 31, of Sacramento also got up early to make the drive to San Francisco to hoist his sign reading, "Gay = Pervert."

Seriously?! What a hateful, horrible person.

This is a civil rights issue, plain and simple. If you do not agree with me please do not read my blog, do not leave any comments on my blog, and do not follow my blog. Quietly go and unfollow me. And tell your friends not to read my blog. I am too angry and disgusted to be diplomatic right now.

I think rioting is completely warranted. I know that is a shocking statement, but think about it. Somebody is telling you that you can't get married. Think really hard about that........you can't marry the person you love. Wouldn't you feel outraged? Hurt? Demeaned? Feel less than a second class citizen? I would.

I want to take to the streets but I am ashamed to admit that I get caught up in the logistics of whose going to watch my kids while I am in jail. And honestly I don't want my kids around those hateful, ignorant Prop. 8 supporters. They frighten me, so I am sure they would frighten my kids.

This is the part of that article that gave me hope:

While some police officers kept watch from the outside of the protest circle, about 10 officers were positioned inside. Each of those 10 officers are gay, lesbian, bisexual or transgender, said Lt. Lea Militello of the Tenderloin Station.

"Absolutely it affects me. I got married in October," she said.

Police Sgt. Carl Tennenbaum said the officers on the scene ranged from gay to conservative, and many had to say they had "mixed feelings would be putting it mildly." However, he said, "You just have to set the issues aside and do your job."

Maybe when supporters of Prop. 8 see that this truly affects "normal" citizens, like police officers, they will begin to change their minds. I say this because I am under the impression that many supporters of this hateful legislation, have only experienced stereotypes of homosexuals. They are not aware that gays, lesbians, bi-sexuals and transgender people come from every walk of life. So I believe we will have a chance to put this on the ballot again, and make justice and equality for everyone.

Memorial Day 2009

Here is something that might shock you; I am both fiercely patriotic and spiritual. I know you just thought I was a hedonistic, smart-ass liberal. And I am. But I also love my country, the men and women that fight for my country, and I have my own complicated relationship with G-d.

I went searching for the perfect prayer for Memorial Day that would be all inclusive. I wanted something that honored men and the women of our military, that was generic of faith, and that wasn't choked with archaic language. I am not sure if I found all of that in the following prayer, but what I did find gave me goosebumps from my head to my toes.



"A Soldier's Prayer" - anonymous Submitted by the Rev. Daniel Schatz

(This poem by an unknown writer was found in the desert during the battle of El Agheila, in Tunisia, December 14th, 1942.)

Stay with me God.
The night is dark, The night is cold:
my little spark Of courage dies.
The night is long;
Be with me God, and make me strong.

I love a game; I love a fight.
I hate the dark; I love the light,
I love my child; I love my wife.
I am no coward. I love Life,

Life with its changes of mood and shade.
I want to live. I'm not afraid,
But me and mine are hard to part;
Oh, unknown God, Lift up my heart.

You stilled the waters at Dunkirk
And saved Your Servants.
All Your work Is wonderful, Dear God.
You strode Before us down that dreadful road.

We were alone and hope had fled;
We loved our country and our dead,
And could not shame them; so we stayed
The course, and were not much afraid.

Dear God, that nightmare road!
And then That sea !
We got there - we were men.
My eyes were blind, my feet were torn,
My soul sang like a bird at dawn !

I knew that death is but a door.
I knew what we were fighting for:
Peace for the kids, our brothers freed,
A kinder world, a cleaner breed.

I'm but the son my mother bore,
A simple man and nothing more.
But - God of strength and gentleness,
Be pleased to make me nothing less.

Help me,
Oh God, when Death is near
To mock the haggard face of fear,
That when I fall - if fall I must -
My soul may triumph in the Dust.



Happy Memorial Day! Have fun, get some rest, and take time to remember our fallen soldiers that fought for your right to eat bbq burgers, and drink ice cold beer on a Monday.

Wildlife in San Ramon-Wild Turkey

This is how exciting it is here in the burbs. I went to put a poopy diaper in the outside garbage can and saw this guy. I went up to the fence and he just limped a few feet away and made cute turkey noises. So I went inside, washed my hands, grabbed the camera, the phone and took a couple of pics while I called animal control. I then loaded up all the kids and went to the gym.




Four hours later and he is still hanging out. Ding-dong, thankfully Jake wasn't napping anyways, otherwise I would be annoyed by the doorbell. It's animal control, and those guys carry real guns, did you know that? Mike tried to touch it.

All 4 of us escorted the officer to our backyard to show him the turkey. I showed him how to access the creek and as soon as he stepped up to the fence, the damn thing flew off. Scared the bejesus out of us! That turkey was easily 20 pounds, with a huge wing span and when he flew off it was no joke.

I felt kind of stupid for making the call to animal control, but I explained that I didn't want a turkey to, "expire" in plain view of my children or become a feast for some coyotes. I used the word expire, because my kids know what dead means, and I spelled coyote. The officer assured me I did the right thing and that if the turkey hadn't flown off, he would have transported it to the shelter.

We then escorted the officer outside and he informed me that he has a 1 and a 3 year old, so we talked about the cost of diapers and formula. He then gave Mike, Bekah, and Jake a tour of his truck. He showed us where the dogs, cats and smaller animals go before he takes them to the shelter. He showed us his tools of the trade, like nets and those poles with the lasso thingy on the end. And he explained in great detail how his radio works and how it allows him to talk to dispatch. Bekah was very intrigued by the button on his radio. It was like a preschool field trip at my house.

The friendly officer went on his way and we haven't seen the turkey since. As you can see by the dent in my fence, he was a hefty bird, and doesn't have very good eyesight. He flew right into it, and if you look really close you can even see a feather clinging.

Hopefully the turkey was just stunned, and sprained, and will heal. The real victim seems to be my plaque of the G-ddess Athena that was hanging from that section of the fence. Athena is the G-ddess of war and is supposed to protect cities, homes, property etc. But it looks like poor Athena is no match for a big, fat turkey.

Well there you go, it doesn't get more exciting than that here in the burbs. The rest of the afternoon was spent getting the boys' haircuts and going to Cost-co. They were out of Dino nuggets (dinosaur shaped chicken nuggets for you non-parents) but I will save that thrilling saga for another day.

An American Bar In Iraq

So my younger brother Bill is in Iraq. Weird place for a Navy Seal since there isn't a lot of ocean in the desert, but Seals are good for other stuff too. I was talking to him this evening on Facebook, using instant messaging. I actually talk to him more now than I did when he was in San Diego because when he is at home in his spare time he is surfing or hanging out with his wife. Now that he is bored in his spare time he talks to basically any family or friends on Facebook. He also called me on my cell phone and it sounded like he was in California, it was amazing! He told me everything is monitored so basically the phone calls consist of me talking about the kids.

This evening he did say that him and his buddies are building a bar and would like bar decorations. I made some joke about building a matching still and making potato wine, which he promptly ignored, making me slap my forehead remembering that he has told me countless times everything is monitored, Duh! Anyways I do want to help our men in uniform by sending them bar decorations.

I asked my husband if he would like to donate his dogs playing poker tapestry he got in Tiajuana while at UCSD but he actually got sad and said only if Bill promises to bring it back. OMG, of course I am not going to ask Bill to bring that back from Iraq! Men get so goofy and sentimental about that shit, I knew better than to ask about the framed velvet painting of the monkey poker dealer. So I said fine then I am buying Bill a neon sign and Erik said fine.



My brother's name is Bill, when you get a chance, please say a prayer. And I don't care who you pray to, it could be G-d, Buddha, Jesus or your garden gnome just say, "Please let Charlotte's brother Bill come home intact.".
Below is a pic of Bill with my first born. They are clones. Bill has passed out watching Transformers with his first nephew.

This is Bill's beautiful wife Ari with a squirmy Bekah, Dec. 2007

This is Bill with Jake after Jake has obviously eaten a dinner of sweet potatoes and carrots. I am guessing since he looks a little orange. Dec. 2007

Holidays, any holiday

So today I had an epiphany. When you were a kid all holidays were fabulous, not a moment of stress or strife. All that was required of you, as a child, was to just show up and have fun and maybe show a semblance of gratitude.

I never realized how stressed out my parents were. I discovered that today when you are a parent holidays take on a completely new meaning and can even be a chore. You have to make sure the kids are clean, cute and well-behaved and you have to do all of this with a smile on your face. You also have to clean and feed yourself.

Then, even if you aren't religious, you have to convey a message of deeper meaning than just sweets, presents and the priveledge of skipping a nap. In between the sweets, you have to make sure they eat something nutritous and festive to commemorate the holiday. You also need to be nice to your spouse and both of you have to somehow get them peacefully into bed after a day of shattered routines and lots of sugar. Then the two of you need to celebrate in a meaningful way without passing out on the couch first or snapping at each other.


The first night of Rosh Hashanah, Erik ended up doing bath by himself, voluntarily, because I was not able to maintain the smile on my face any longer. I had taken the 3 monkeys to Temple earlier in the day and I am just worn out.

I had Sarah hear to help me fluff them up and then we had to wake Jake from a nap that he fought in the first place. I felt so weird doing that because honestly he is 18 months old, exactly how much is he going to get out of this experience except sleep deprivation? Couldn't leave him home alone though. Sarah went home and I took them to children's services by myself. I was a little panicky but thankfully Erik's Uncle Jamie sat next to me and basically commandeered my extremely wiggly Michael. An absolute G-dsend. I am soooo grateful and couldn't have done it without him. Mericfully children's services are short and sweet.

By the time we got home and through dinner I was cranky and tired and so was everyone else. If you mess with their routines, children will punish you. That's why my awesome husband volunteered to do bathtime by himself because nobody wanted to be around me anymore including him. I felt better after going downstairs and sending Uncle Jamie a thank you note. I was able to read few stories and kiss my monkeys good night.

L' Shana Tovah

DNC

Ok so after bath and bedtime this evening I made sure that Hillary's speech was being recorded on our Tivo before I started dinner. I have to share my opinions on her speech on my blog because Erik is working at home on his computer tonight and can't be interrupted by my commentary. So anyone reading this is welcome to skip or skim the following.

So I am watching MSNBC because Fox is the evil right and CNN can be too liberal even for me. In the minutes before Hillary took the stage it was like watching the coverage before the Super Bowl. Lots of talking heads trying to guess what she was going to say while the camera was firmly lodged on Bill Clinton in the audience. Bill was sitting next to a woman I didn't recognize and was talking her ear off. What amused me was that she seemed to be leaning away from him and barely listening. This is Bill Clinton, the man who can talk the panties off a Nun. I even had to interrupt Erik to show him this and he agreed that you have to be a very hard-core lesbian to not be charmed by Bill Clinton. Sure enough about 3 minutes later this woman leaned closer, tossed her hair and smiled. You gotta love him. I mean I would never want to be married to him, he is a horrible slut, but if you have ever had guys as friends, you know some them just can't help it. Some men play football, some men play women.

That is why I could never vote for Hillary. It's ok to be friends with men like that, even date them, but you don't marry and have children with them. And if you do, once it becomes obvious that they just can't keep it zipped up, you dump them. It is your right as a mother (especially to a daughter), to set an example on how wives and mothers should be treated.

Having said all that Hillary's speech moved me to tears twice this evening. I had to endure some severe eye-rolling by my husband but I let the tears flow. The video before her speech at first made me laugh because it was so transparent in it's goal to make Hillary girlie and even kind of hot. Thumping, throbbing rock music and pics of Hillary young and in college, with long hair, and glossy lips. Too much. But then when they showed several pictures of young children and Chelsea started narrating and talking about the G-d given potential of every child...........well I took off my glasses and started rubbing my eyes.

Once Hillary took the stage in her orange power suit and started hitting all the key points, my tears dried and I started to eat my veggie pizza fresh from the oven. I kept the t.v. on and got fired up from the kitchen table as she ripped on the republicans and really plugged health care. The tears started to flow once again when she started talking about the fight for the right for women to vote. When she brought up Harriet Tubman I lost it. The several references to the 18 million cracks in the glass ceiling was pretty awesome too.

The fact that I didn't vote for Hillary and just can't put aside my personal feelings in regards to her personal situation, doesn't mean I don't respect her on some level. I have known many a smart woman who has made many a stupid decision when it comes to their personal life. Here is my double standard; I truly believe Bill Clinton is a slut but I would vote for him again, I would not vote for Hillary for putting up with Bill's behavior. It's awful, I know, but I expect alot more out of women than men. I need to change my attitude because I have 2 sons but as it stands right now I can forgive men like Bill Clinton because I believe they just have not evolved enough to be able to control themselves.

I could only vote for a woman for president if she is capable of putting a man in his place. Hillary is awesome, she has done amazing things and raised an amazing daughter. But Hillary Rodham Clinton did not respect herself or her daughter enough to get rid of a man who cheated on her with several women, including a young woman the same age as her daughter.

If only Michelle Obama would run for president, and if she was Jewish too!

More preschool crap

So back to school for Mike after MLK day off, I thought to be proactive and run him before class with the help of my friend L and her sweet son J. Even though the plan was to keep Mike out of big circle time which is his trigger they for some reason went ahead and had him sit in there and of course he was a spazz, screaming naked box and other antics. So of course when I get there to pick him up 30 min. early I get to have a parent teacher conference and basically it's either Mike hits the road, I have to go to school with him every day (no thanks), or he only stays for free time. I am going with door #3 and eventually re-introduce him to circle time.

I know this is genetic. He is so much like Bill energy wise but I wasn't the best student either. I remember very clearly in Kindergarten Mrs. Honeywhacker (I swear that's her name) used to put me on the island all of the time. It was like a time-out except you had to sit in the middle of the of room and nobody could come near you. She also threatened to throw me over her knee and spank me. I have a special ability to piss off teachers and I think Mike inherited this. In 3rd grade Mrs. Golitz kept me in from recess and turned over my desk upside down and screamed at me to clean it up. In the 5th grade Mr. Sanford slammed a huge stack of papers on my desk and told me I was a spoiled brat in front of the whole class. And in high school Mrs. Mali actually patted me on my butt and asked, "How does it feel to know that you are going to grow up to be nothing in life?".

I am not delusional I know my son is hugely difficult to deal with but I won't ever let him be treated abusively by adults that are supposed to be educators and role models. So these daily parent-teacher conferences send my anxiety sky-high. On one hand I want to hear ideas that are best for my son and to nip these antics before elementary school, on the other hand I want to protect him and lash out at any perceived unfairness.

Of course I also was not completely innocent. In the first grade I refused to say the pledge of allegiance because it said under G-d and there is supposed to be a seperation of church and state in this country. That protest went over like a turd in a salad. Second grade I ran away from school in the middle of the day because I was sick of having to write lines saying I will be quiet in class, they thought I, and my friend I conned into coming with me, had been abducted so they were extra furious when they realized we weren't victims but instigators. In 3rd grade the reason my desk was tossed was because I refused to practice my handwriting. If it's mostly legible who gives a shit if it's perfect, I think I am still correct on that position. In the 5th grade I refused to chew up those red tablets and swish with mouthwash during class time. Remember when they would do that? I told my teacher it was a waste of my parents tax money to be doing this in class just because other parents don't teach their children proper dental hygiene. The list of my grievances were long and tedious to my teachers, most of them patient and tolerant. Sigh.............and I gave birth to someone just as rotten as me. I believe that is called Karma.