Merry Christmas!

Merry Christmas! I hope everyone had a wonderful Christmas and got to spend it the way they wanted. We had a very nice holiday. Christmas Eve we went to mother's house, where I am pretty sure she fed us goat meat, but she says it was a deer roast. Whatever, it was still pretty good. She has a lot of downed limbs from the storm, but Mark and his friend Tim cut them up and made nice piles of them until we can get them moved out of her yard.

Christmas morning, Mark's parents came over for present exchange and brunch. I made them stuffed french toast with fresh cranberries and mimosas. I was a little unsure about fresh cranberries, but it was really good. Too bad you missed it.

That afternoon, we went to Dad's house to open gifts and eat lunch. Shannon was there from Texas along with Brad, Kristi and the boys and my sister Aryielle. We ended the day with a game of Cranium, which of course, Mark and I rock at. The last pic is a pic of Dad portraying the movie "Exorcist". He's such a good actor! HA!

My Brother Sucks and So Does Ice.

I was informed that my blog sucks by my brother who said, and I quote, "you blog sucks".

Whatever.

On December 11th, a huge ice storm came through and we have been without power for the past few days. It sucked. I didn't take pics of us without power, but here is a pic of trees with ice, which BTW caused the problem. I would also like to call your attention to the obviously

sucky person in the middle of the last pic. That is my brother.

SUCKS!!

Go ahead, tell me my blog sucks Jake!

Right Now

At last post, I was in a weird place. Thanks mom for the post, that's nice. Anyway, the removal was successful, and although I felt very attacked afterward (which I knew I was in for) the T.C. has had a much better vibe as of late. Everyone is positive, we've added some new clients who are really serious about changing their lives, and are great positive leaders. (As much as inmates can be). Things are looking good right now. Of course that will change, but it makes my job a whole lot easier when people actually look for answers instead of argue with them.

Tomorrow is Mother's Day, and I'm asking myself "what kind of mother have I been?". As I look at my slothful child who wants to do computer art for a living, I have some regrets, but mostly triumphs. My child is going to be sixteen in a couple of weeks. That seems crazy to me. I thought it was just last week when he was staring at the sun claiming that it gave him "super powers". Your first reaction is to say, "That's called SUN SPOTS you stupid kid, you're probably going to go blind!". But you don't, you just laugh to yourself, and then panic when he jumps off the barbecue because he thought he could fly, and has to get three stitches in his head. It is sad to me that grown-ups lose that magical thinking at some point. Right now, my boy thinks he can go to any school he wants, he will rule the computer animation world, and his days will be full of intellectual conversations at the coffee shop by the Bay. (San Francisco Bay, to be exact). I hope this happens for him. I truly do. But if it doesn't, and he has to go through a few hardships before he finds a comfortable place in his life, well, that's good too. Kids need struggles, they need more hardships. They should have to wear K-mart tennis shoes and be called names in grade school because of it. It makes you a better person. My kids never had that. They don't know what it is like to be poor, or the triumph of accomplishing something they had to work really hard at to get. We as a generation, are way too good to kids. We treat them like little prize possessions that can never be hurt, sad, disappointed, average, or Heaven forbid, "losers". We let them take tests over and over until they get an A. We don't even keep score any more at soccer games for fear that the losing team will feel "bad". What's up with that? Not everyone can be a winner, or the best, or the boss, or the President. And you know what? That's okay. So if I have any regrets as a mother, my regret would be that I did my job WAY TOO WELL. Maybe it was that fact that we were raised by the "me" generation, maybe it's the government that has too many regulations on how we raise children, I don't know. But I will say this, for all of you who are going to be mothers, let your kids get dirty. Let them scrape up their knee, slap a band-aid on it, and call it good without running them to the doctor. When they get an "F" in school, don't call the teacher, tell them to do a better job next time, and they won't get "Fs". Keep score at soccer, make them work for the next latest thing, buy them a pair of shoes that don't cost more than twenty bucks. It builds character. And guess what, in 30 years we may have a President that has some integrity. Wow, that's a foreign concept, isn't it? I will leave you with a picture of my spoiled, coddled, naive, demanding and clueless kids. I love 'em. Maybe a little too much. HAPPY MOTHER'S DAY!!!!

The Dream

Last night I had a dream. Or more of a nightmare. You decide. For those of you who like to analyze these things, this should be interesting. I had a dream that I lived in an R.V. It was one of those huge, rockstar kindof R.V.s. My husband was not very adept at driving it. When we would pull in somewhere to park, mothers with their children would run, screaming to get out of the way. We pull in to a small town and park. We seem to be living there. I talk to a strange man who says he cannot stop hurting people. He grabs them, throws some sort of dirt or gravel on them, he burns them with cigarettes, it is disturbing, but not life threatening. I assume since I am talking to him, he decides to bother me. He rides up to our R.V. on a horse that is pulling a wagon. The wagon has something in it which is covered by a large brown blanket or tarp. It seems unimportant to me. He bursts into my house and takes a birthday cake, lit candles and all, that I have made for one of my kids. It is chocolate. I don't know if that matters. Anyway, I am screaming at him, "what are you doing?" but he ignores me and walks out of the house, or R.V. I am talking on the phone with neighbors who are being tormented by this man. In particular, the neighbor boy who is about the same age as my boys (around 15 years old). I tell him to let me know if this man bothers him again. This seems to upset the man. It doesn't enrage him, or even anger him, he doesn't show any emotion really, just flat affect to everything. Anyway, he rides up to my house again. I tell my boys to lock the doors. My boy tells me he can't because the deadlocks have been removed. I run to a door (there are a lot of normal house doors on this R.V. about 5 or 6), in fact the deadlock has been removed. I run to the kitchen to gather up butter knives to stick in the door jams (a trick my mother taught me which is very effective). Frantically, I am trying to secure the R.V. Before I can get it done, he is at the door. Suddenly, all of the doors and windows burst open as if he is supernatural or something. He walks into the house, I am screaming at him to get out! He walks out another door and goes to the neighbors house. I am following him the whole time yelling at him, he continues to ignore me and walk like Michael Myers in Halloween. He snatches up the neighbor boy and puts him in a shopping cart. The boy is yelling for me to help him (now why a teenage boy doesn't just jump out of the shopping cart, I have no idea). The man continues walking with the boy in the cart into a parking lot which is surrounded by small shops and people, kind of like the State fair. He grabs the boy's head and slowly twists it around 360 degrees, killing him. I am screaming "Somebody help me! Call the police!", but no one seems to notice or care. The man starts to walk away. I am chasing him still screaming "Call the police!" when my husband wakes me up. My own analysis of this dream is that of late, I am feeling very helpless. Those of you in my profession whether you be counselors, therapists, social workers, psychologists, etc. I am sure can relate to me. One of my first clients is a known escape artist. He has spent his entire life since age 11 in jail or prison. He doesn't understand why. At this point, prison feels like home to him because he knows nothing else. He is an old man now. This old man has a heart of gold, he wants nothing more than to do the right thing. A prison program called "Freedom Challenge" is sending him to Seminary college when he gets out. He has listened to and helped, a lot of inmates. But, don't be fooled. This man has seen and done things that are so traumatic that I don't understand how he functions. During his intake, he asked me, "Do you think I'm gonna make it this time?" I told him I couldn't answer that question. His face haunted me at night, the pain in his eyes, searching for my reassurance that I just couldn't give him. I felt useless, unable to tell this man yes or no. Recently I was talking with him and I asked, "Do you remember what you asked me during your intake?", and he said, "yes". I said, "What do you feel like now?" He said, "I'm gonna make it this time". He told me that I was a wise woman, wise beyond my years, that I seemed to have all of the answers. I told him, "I don't have the answers, you do. I just repeat them to you in a way that makes sense to you". His face lit up, and tears welled in his eyes. He said, "God Bless you, Ms. Libertee, I will always remember you". This Monday I have to remove several clients. Their criminality is so severe that they are crippling those who really want to change. I am struggling with this. All of them have been through so much in their lives that prison seems like an obvious conclusion. Sometimes, I hate my job. Right now it is Counselor 1, inmates 60.

It's My Birthday! (and I still can't figure this out)

It's my birthday today. I am older than I care to mention. Hmmm... Yes, I have missed a lot of important events such as Thanksgiving, Christmas, my brother coming from England, my clients losing their minds (that was a fun week) and so much more. However, I don't like digital cameras, therefore, I own a 35 milimeter. What can I say, it takes nice pictures. But, I haven't been to the store yet to develop the film. Or maybe I did and I forgot. Now I can't remember. See what birthdays do for ya? They make you senile. And with that, I leave you with this cool shark from Japan. It lives so far underwater that it is rarely seen alive. Sadly, this one only lived a few hours. You should check it out.

LATER!