off topic rant -- please avoid

So here's the deal. I'm not religious. I choose this because the more I learned about religion, the more I saw how they were all the same. The differences are in small details, and I just have a really hard time believing that God is as concerned with these technicalities as we are. Essentially, I decided that the truth lies in what we can all agree upon -- that is: be nice to other people, do your best always to do what you know to be right, golden rule sort of generalities. At the end of my life, if God really wanted me to know the secret handshake, skip birth control, wear special underwear or sacrifice my life to kill infidels, I am going to be surprised as all hell. I don't believe in hell. I don't believe in heaven. I don't believe that Jesus was literally the son of God, and I don't believe that Mohamed went on top of a mountain where he received the Koran. I believe in love and in the sanctity of life. And I believe in treating all people with dignity and respect even if I don't agree with or understand them. I think that is really what God wants.
I saw a bumper sticker a while back that said something along the lines of, "I don't have a problem with Jesus, it's his followers I can't stand." I chuckled. It was trite and juvenile (and really, why do we feel the need to advertise our personal beliefs in the form of oversimplified slogans on the back of our cars?), but I understood the point and agreed even a little. I've spent much of my adult life in total disbelief in the things people will do or say and attribute to their religious beliefs, especially when they seem in direct contradiction to said belief systems. I look at the world around me and see so much suffering and pain and death, all brought onto the world needlessly in the name of one religion or another. Frankly, it disgusts me.
When I was growing up, taking the Lord's name in vain was a pretty big deal around my house. A big no no. I remember talking to my mom at one point about what that meant. Obviously, she told me that included saying things like "Oh my God" and "God damn it." The one part of her explanation that really resonated with me, however, was when she tried to explain the idea of people dishonoring God's name by doing awful, unGodly things in the supposed name of God. She gave the example of the crusades and other religious persecution. That explanation blew my young mind, but clearly it resonated with me on some level. I find little in this world more revolting than doing something clearly so contradictory to the teachings of any religion in the name of God or religion.
For example. . . There's this church. It's a pretty infamous church at this point, even though it isn't the biggest or best funded organization. It's notoriety is due to the seething vitriol it's members spout at every opportunity at all sorts of people, but in particular homosexuals and the Jewish. They picket funerals, schools, churches, and temples with a disgusting message of hate, all in the supposed name of God and Jesus. Now, I know I'm not a Bible scholar, but I know there is a lot in there about loving thy neighbor and not casting stones. Somehow these better, more noble parts of the Bible are totally missed by this particular congregation who instead choose to focus on hate and hell fire and brimstone.
This church is bringing their disgusting message to my town. They're bringing it to public areas, schools and parks and places of worship, and it simultaneously makes me want to punch someone in the face and cry. One of the places they will be demonstrating is my friend's temple, right before their sabbath services. I felt compelled to warn my friend not to be there so she didn't expose her small children to these people's awful message of hate. But why is that okay? Why is it okay for them to say and do these things when it so clearly hurts other people and interferes with their lives? Why is that legal and totally acceptable? Furthermore, how can anyone believe, after reading Jesus' message of love and forgiveness and peace, that God is somehow concerned with the spreading of hate and bigotry and rage?
The part that I find most upsetting about all of this is not that one day I'll have to explain to my kids something that I find so inexplicable (though that is pretty upsetting)... it is that there is truly no hope of convincing these people that they are wrong. They KNOW they're right, and any resistance to their way of thinking can easily be identified (by them, of course) as work of the devil. There is no explaining to a crazy person that they're wrong, and that means we're always going to have crazy people screwing things up for everyone else. Murdering thousands of people for their god... oppressing people who disagree with them... and making the world a less safe, less beautiful place to live.
And that, I think, is truly taking the Lord's name in vain.

100th Entry

Many times throughout my life, I've attempted to keep a journal. I was raised in a religion that strongly encourages journaling, and I come from a family rich with recorded histories. For what ever reason, though, I've never been much of a journal keeper. I've just never been all that great at doing it regularly or for any sustained amount of time. So, I have to admit today that I'm pretty proud of myself for making it to this, my 100th blog entry. Hooray for me!
I started blogging with the intention of practicing gratitude. Over my now nearly 30 years on this earth, I have noticed that happy people are almost universally grateful people. They are people who choose to remember the blessings in their lives rather than dwell on the things that might not be so great. They are people who choose to see the obstacles as opportunities and the challenges as a chance to learn and grow. Since I am not crazy, I would really like to be one of those happy people, and furthermore, I want my kids to be happy too. So, I decided a couple of years ago that the time was right to become a happier, more grateful person. While learning gratitude and choosing happiness has not been the easiest thing for me to accomplish, I am proud of myself for my efforts. I can see the difference it has made and continues to make in my daily life, especially when it comes to my family. On this day, I have much for which to be grateful, but I am going to talk about only two of these things.

The first thing for which I am so deeply grateful is the health of my children. Unlike many people, Landon and I were not particularly concerned about the gender of our kids. I think we would have been equally pleased with two boys or two girls as we are with one of each. Our primary concern was that our kids be healthy. Landon, in particular, went to great lengths to ensure the health of our fetuses and later, our children. He fed me lots of vitamins including fish oil throughout my pregnancies, and decided we ought to switch to organic produce, meat and dairy once our kids were eating real food. We've both made a conscious decision to avoid feeding our kids fast food and junk and to teach them other healthy eating habits. We encourage our kids to be active (not that it takes much prodding). The health of our children is of vital importance to us both.
When Marissa was born, the hospital pediatrician who was checking on her while I recuperated from the c-section noticed she had a heart murmur. He talked to me about it, assured me it was common and that it would likely go away. I didn't worry too much about it, especially after our doctor never heard it or mentioned anything about it during her regular well-baby visits. Until a few months ago, I had assumed it had just gone away like the hospital pediatrician had said it would. On a trip to the doctor to check for an ear infection, our doctor asked me if anyone had told me that Marissa had a heart murmur. I told him yes, I had been told about the murmur at birth, and also told him that I assumed it had resolved itself. He assured me it was very slight and almost certainly an "innocent" or harmless murmur. Last week at Marissa's 2 year old check up, he heard the murmur again and said that it was more pronounced than he remembered it being before and recommended we get her an echocardiogram just to be certain that it wasn't something serious.
Now, I try real hard to not be one of those moms that freak out about everything. I was never the first time mom worrying over every little thing, and I am happy to allow my kids the space to figure out things on their own. However, being told that my child is being referred to a cardiologist is not at the top of my list of "Things I hope to hear". The doctor again told me that it was probably nothing, but that it couldn't hurt to have it checked out just in case. So I did my best to take the news in stride, made an appointment with the cardiologist and waited.
I called my best friend, Lara, who spent a couple of years in the cardiology department of Seattle Children's hospital, and asked how likely it was that the murmur was a symptom of something more serious. We talked about Marissa's growth, her activity level and other things that would be indicators of her having a heart problem. We also talked about why a murmur would sound louder one day than another and the percentage of kids with innocent murmurs. Lara told me that absent these other symptoms of a heart problem, she would be very, very surprised to find out that Marissa's murmur was anything serious. She also told me that she knows how scary it must be to have a child referred to a cardiologist and that it was normal and okay for me to be worried about it. My conversation with Lara lifted nearly all of the lingering concern I had about Marissa's heart and let me get on with normal life. And I remembered how lucky I am to have friends who love me and my family, and who want to make sure we're okay (both in body and in mind).
Today, we had Marissa's appointment with the cardiologist. She sat through her echocardiogram, barely noticing that she was being prodded with an ultrasound wand as she watched Sesame Street. Landon and I got to see some neat pictures of Marissa's heart beating, watching the blood get pumped through the chambers, some red, some blue. We finished with the ultrasound and waited only a few minutes for the doctor to go over the results with us. While the doctor examined Marissa and her bear (he was great with her), he told us she was perfectly healthy. He told me many of the same things Lara already had about murmurs, how common they are, and how it's really just a sound. He said we didn't need to come back to see him again because Marissa is very healthy.

After getting this clean bill of health for our baby girl, I am reminded just how blessed we are to have two perfectly healthy, wonderful children. Landon said, "The doctor probably likes getting to give that particular diagnosis. He must spend all day telling parents that their children have something wrong with their hearts, so it must be nice for him to get ones like Rissa's!" It's true. There are lots of sick kids, kids fighting for their lives, spending much of their time in and out of doctor's offices and hospitals trying desperately to get to what is normal for us -- health. I feel so blessed for the health of my kids and the peace of mind that brings me, as their parent.

The other thing for which I am feeling particularly grateful today is the sweet moments I get to share with my kids. The other night as Marissa and I washed the dishes, Mason came into the kitchen and said, "Look what I made for you Mom!"

When I saw that sweet note he wrote for Landon and I ("Mason loves Mom and Dad"), my heart just about melted. He was so proud of himself. I could tell my happiness made him feel even better about the note he had written all by himself. I immediately grabbed the camera to capture his sweet message and the pride he felt in doing something so grown up and so kind all by himself.
This evening, Mason was upset for one reason or another. He was crying, sitting in my lap when his sister came up with a look of tremendous empathy for her brother. I said to her, "Rissa, Mason is sad. Can you give him a hug to help him feel better?"
She said, "Bruver! What's a matter??" and gave him a pat on his head, with deep concern showing across her face. Then Mason reached to hug her, and my two sweet children hugged each other for comfort and love.
How blessed am I to have the opportunity to share in these moments with my children! How blessed am I to have these two people, full of kindness and empathy and love, living in my home! I am truly grateful that I get to raise these children, to help teach them and shape them into the people they will one day be, and I am so grateful for their spirits and their love for me and each other!