Yes We Did!

Wow! I haven't posted since August? Where does time go? First and foremost, Congratulations fellow Democrats on our victorious win! It wasn't even close! How wonderful that Americans were not swayed by Insane McCain and that gun-totin' hockey mom! How strange yet wonderful it will be to see Barack Obama on the television! I was quite moved by Ruth's post when she said that Otis will never know how monumental or how extraordinary it is to see a minority or a woman run for President of the United States. It is my hope that this is a great move forward. Secondly, I've learned enough french to now know what those crazy Frenchmen who attacked me were saying! Un gateau de cadeau or roughly translated, "a gift cake". And yes, I was so traumatized by the event that I remember what they said and I've taken up French lessons.

A lot has been happening since August. Jake and Ruth had a bouncing baby boy, that, by the looks of him lately will soon overtake my brother and sister-in-law with his sheer size! Good Grief that child is humongous! The boys are Seniors in high school and we are counting down the days till graduation and freedom! Stefan has been very sickly this year. He had mono this summer, strep throat, and most recently what looked to be hand-foot-and mouth disease. He managed to score a 32 on his ACT's this last October! That's 2 points higher than he scored last June! Way to go Stefan! Now, if he would just apply it! The boys also recently had their Senior pics taken which we have yet to get ordered. Oh yeah, and in light of the recent economy I've learned to bake bread, which I might say so myself, I am very good at! Who knew? I don't have a lot of new pics to post...but I'll add some because everyone likes looking at pictures. Hopefully, I'll get around to posting after Thanksgiving. There will be many family members here to take embarrassing photos of!

A House Divided

My husband is a Republican. I am a Democrat. Things have been heating up in our household this week. I come home from work, mentally exhausted from trying to help people change their lives, I want to sit quietly and watch the Democratic Convention rally cries of change for our country. I think to myself, "these are my kind of people, they get it". In comes my husband with a grin on his face, set on I'm assuming, a suicide mission as he says, "what are you watching that for you reefer-smoking-liberal commy?" My response is just as crude. "Shut up you gun-toting-bible-beating-war-monger!" And so it will continue until November. What he doesn't know, is that I have a secret weapon. It is called KIDS, one of which, will be old enough to vote by this election. Yes, I have turned my husband's only offspring against him in a strategic move last night. I had Andrew watch Obama's acceptance speech. We talked about how important it was for young people to vote, to make their opinions count in this country, and how Obama's inspiration can be his inspiration. Stefan is a little more skeptical. He actually keeps up on politics and understands that Obama probably can't accomplish one fourth of what he promises, but he does admit that one fourth is better than what we have been dealing with for the last 8 years. Joe Biden sealed the deal for him. The three of us have decided to adopt P. Diddy's campaign slogan, "Vote or Die".

However, we put a twist on it. "Vote Democrat or Die". Mwah-ha-ha-ha! (evil laugh) Take that Mark! If you haven't noticed, I added a goofy picture of me so that my mother feels vindicated for the "Clinton pub incident" and I have also added an Obama news widget, which doesn't quite fit, but you get the gist. I will end with a pic of the cutest baby neice in the world. Just think, if you don't vote for Obama, you will break her little heart. (Guilt, that's my other strategy)

So Much News!

THE THOMPSONS INVADE EUROPE!

Where do I start? It has been a crazy start to the year. In January, the whole clan went to England to bug Jake and Ruthie, then we headed to France just so the Parisians would be convinced that Americans really are as rude and selfish as they thought! HA! But that's another story, way too long for a blog page. Here we are in front of the Eiffel tower. I can't stand taking a picture without doing something goofy. My husband loves it. This next pic is of me, getting ambushed by some crazy Frenchmen, who I am pretty sure had a little too much wine at 10:00 in the morning. I was walking from the Eiffel tower, minding my business, freezing my butt off at this point, wearing two coats, and carrying a box of pastries that we had bought that morning, but they were so pretty, we didn't want to eat them. So, I have the box, and I'm wearing two coats, I'm sure looking pretty miserable. Here's the scenario: Your a Parisian, it's Sunday morning, you've just had a breakfast of chocolate and wine (I'm pretty sure that's all they eat), so you're feeling pretty good. You're bored. What next? Well, go harass tourists at the Eiffel tower, of course! These men grab my box of pastries and start chanting something in French, that I have NO IDEA what they are saying. They catch on pretty quick that I have no clue and start jumping up and down, pulling on the box, and scaring me to death! The wife in the bunch is trying to make them stop, I'm pulling on the box, (I paid a lot of money for these pastries, I'm NOT letting them go!) they're pulling on the box, and the wife is slapping their hands. She'd get one hand off, and they'd put their other hand on it. As you can see in the picture, my mother, who WAS right beside me, is now off to the side yelling, "SAVE THE CHOCOLATE!" You would think someone's MOTHER would protect their child from harm. Thanks a lot mom, remind me not to walk down a dark alley with YOU in tow. Not to mention my HUSBAND, who you would think would be trying to rescue me. Oh nooooooo.....he's too busy TAKING PICTURES!!!! Who does this weird crap happen to? ME of course, even in another country, weird things happen to me. I have to say, it was something I don't think I'll ever forget! Back in England, Jake gave us a whirlwind tour of Oxford and the surrounding sites. Here's a pic of him in his natural habitat. (Both his workplace, and the pub). He wasn't kidding around when he told us it was cold in England. We thought, 40 degrees, that's not cold! It doesn't even freeze there! What he didn't mention, is that the English do not believe in HEAT. No heat, anywhere. Just small radiator things that feel slightly warm to the touch. So, imagine never heating your home or workplace. After a few months of that in the winter, everything would start to feel pretty darned cold. And it does. The first night, I slept with my sweatshirt, sweatpants, socks, and I would have worn a hat if I had brought one. FREEZING! English people seem to be a little stand-offish, and very rigid. DUH, that's because they are freezing and starving to death! No fat people, anywhere. Needless to say, my husband and I felt pretty out of place. I will say that all that walking instead of driving is obviously a good thing. We should do more of it in America. But, think about what you believe when you see someone biking down the street here. First thought. "He must have lost his license for DUI." Right? It's strange how walking or biking here seems to hold that stigma. I have too many stories to publish in this one page, so it will have to continue with several posts. However, I am so excited to announce that my little sister is having a BABY! After doctors told her that she only had a 10% chance of ever getting pregnant, she gets a "surprise"! No matter, this baby is a miracle, and we are so excited for her! Her little girl is due in June, and her name will be Aaralyn Je. Congratulations! We can't wait to have a baby in the family! So many things to tell, not enough space. I will end with a picture of my mother sitting in the pub where Clinton did not inhale. Kinda looks like maybe she did though! That's payback for not saving me from the Frenchmen...JO JO JO! (That's me laughing in French!)

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.