Willful Grace

Writing...seriously....Writing

2011-01-25T19:59:00.002-06:00

I'm sorry people. I don't think anyone actually ever reads my blog any longer, why would you??? I never write.

BUT. Here's the deal.

I've deactivated my Facebook account and I am WRITING my/our story. I'm actually in the process of WRITING a book about the experiences of our family - about my marriage to Todd and the entire backstory involved in the marriage.

So. If anyone is STILL reading. I'm here. I intend to blog more often as I work my way through the process of writing this book.

I hope there is at least a remnant of you here that will support what's going on. I may post excerpts occasionally to get some feedback. I NEED to resurrect this blog.

HELP!!!

grace,

pam

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I'm Back

2010-06-08T00:44:00.001-05:00

I'm going to start writing again. I am. I promise.

There is SOOOO much.

Good Grief.

Here's to writing...here's to blogging...such as it is? Does anyone even read this???

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Empty Box Faith (by Kurt)

2009-04-14T08:40:00.003-05:00

When I was in college thirty years ago, I wrote a paper on the early days of the Church of Jesus Christ of Latter Day Saints (the Mormons), and, though I'd known Mormons before (In fact my great aunt was a Mormon), that was my first exposure to the history of the LDS faith, and it was the first time I'd read the Book of Mormon.

Now one of the first things you come to in the Book of Mormon, before you get to the main text is the Testimony of the Three Witnesses. The Three Witnesses were early converts to Joseph Smith's church who claimed to have seen the gold plates on which the Book of Mormon was inscribed. (According to LDS belief, the Angel Moroni reappropriated the gold plates after Joseph Smith was done translating them into English.)

How did Joseph Smith manage to convince these guys that they'd seen gold plates inscribed with ancient hyroglypics, I wondered.

Well all these years later I have my answer. According to Fawn Brodie, author of No Man Knows My History, Joseph Smith got together with his three converts-- Matin Harris, Oliver Cowdery and David Whitmer-- and showed them what was to all appearances an empty box wooden box, and he told them the gold plates were in this empty box. When they said they didn't see anything, he told them it was due to insufficient faith that they didn't see the gold plates, and he ordered them out into the woods to pray. And pray and pray.

And after a couple hours of praying on their knees in the woods in the dark and the cold, they decided that they could see the gold plates after all, and there you have your Testimony of the Three Witnesses.

Now for those of us who don't believe in the founding myths of Joseph Smith's church I think the absurdity of the situation speaks for itself. That's not what faith is, right? Looking in an empty box and seeing something that's not there. That's not the kind of faith we have.

Well, I think sometimes that is the kind of faith we have. I think sometimes we have these empty boxes in our lives, and we want to believe all sorts of things are in those boxes. We tell ourselves "The box is real. So this thing that I imagine inside the box must be real too."

And I think we can see very clearly the empty boxes in other people's lives. I think way back when I first knew Pam, I had a strong feeling that her marriage was something of an empty box. And we had a mutual internet friend, an ex-gay blogger who's since disappeared, and he had this idea that by doing stereotypically male activities with heterosexual men (like remodeling houses), he was going to turn himself into a heterosexual. And boy, did that ever look like one big empty box to me.

So yeah. If the empty box is not part of my life, I can draw you a map and show you right where it is. The Rapture? Empty box. Homeopathy? Empty box. The housing bubble? Ouiji Boards? Pyramid power? Empty, empty, empty.

But where are the empty boxes in my own life? Those I don't see so clearly. But I have a nagging suspicion they're lurking around here somewhere.

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Figuring Things Out

2009-03-09T19:34:00.002-05:00

Hey.

I'm here. Yes. I am.

It's weird. I've received some email in the past few weeks that all have something in common. Every one of them is from a reader who's never commented in all the time I've been writing, but have always been there, just reading. It's touching, seriously touching, to hear from folks that way. Thank you. All of you. You know who you are. :)

Here's another striking thing about each and every email I've received in my blogging absence. They all use the word "insight". They say that they miss my insight. I'm here to tell you, lately, I don't feel like I have much insight at ALL. I guess I've felt a bit devoid of insight for a few months, which is why I haven't written, maybe. Who knows. Then again, it's not like I ever sit down to blog thinking, "oh...here i go with all sorts of great insight to share today". I mostly just write what's going on and tell what I think about it. Go figure.

Not a whole heck of a lot has been going on. Seriously. I mean, I've been Facebooking like a FIEND. I think that's why none of my more regular readers or commentors have emailed; they are friends with me on Facebook and they see me or comment me there. And I've been having a great deal of fun there in Facebookland. I think it's been good for me. Just taking a "break" from being so full of insight and just having fun with imagination, ideas, and quick bursts of words.

I guess you could say that I've gotten down into the nitty gritty of being alone and trying to figure out how to manage that and still feel purposeful about life in general. The graduate classes I'm taking are a bit of a beating at times. I'm constantly reading and writing papers.

I miss the boys so much it physically hurts at times. I miss being in a family. I miss it BAAAADly.

I've had a few attempts at relationships but nothing ever works out. *sigh* But even that doesn't get me down all that much. (ok, sometimes it does but i always get past it.) I mean, I know that something or someone will find their way to me or me to them eventually. And...if not.....oh well. What can I really do about that? It is what it is. One of the things I am most thankful for that came from my marriage to Tdub was that it gave me the opportunity to work on my own mental well-being and sense of wholeness as a person. Yes, I'd rather not be alone. And yet, if I am alone, it's not the end of the world. There are some things I can actually do better alone, if I just get my act together and DO them.

So. Here I am. Still here.

Hopefully this blog entry is the beginning of a new start. Or at the very least, the end of a really long break.

love and grace,
pam

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Update on Da' Boys

2009-01-11T09:47:00.004-06:00

Most of you who've been reading for a long time, particularly those who've read since the beginning and seemed to actually feel the "blow" of the end of the marriage, have emailed or messaged me in some way at some point to ask about the boys.

I've had only one commenter, of literally hundreds, who's ever had the "nerve" to make disparaging comments regarding the boys' progression through what truly has been a hellacious time. All but one of you have known and trusted all along that the boys would come out the other side of this mess stronger, and more full of grace and love for each other and for US, than could probably ever been possible otherwise.

It takes time and patience to weather through this stuff. The bottom-line is that we are family. We love each other. Those boys love each other.

During Christmas break I was able to spend time with all four of the boys at the same time for the first time in almost 2 years. It was incredible. We had lots of time just hanging out at Todd's house, but my favorite thing we did together was going out to eat Mexican food. We sat there reminiscing about some of the good times we've had, and all four of them continued to give me a hard time about the same sorts of things they've always given me a hard time about. Things like my obsession with social networking (Facebook), my phone never ringing when anyone calls (i swear, it rarely rings for me), how I'm rarely on time for anything, and how it's not unusual for my hands and fingers to be stained with various colors of paint or marker. And they still love to laugh and roll their eyes at me when I try and use their hip teenager kind of lingo.

Zach, the high school senior and the oldest of Todd's two, has struggled more than the other three. But even at that, his struggles have made he and Daniel grow closer. All four of them text and call each other regularly. When they talk about each other to friends they refer to one another as brothers. They've all talked about being better, stronger people for what they've been through together. They are amazing.

I know that so many of you have kept them in your thoughts and prayers and I appreciate it SO much.

Da' boys.....are good.

love and grace,
pam

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More Online Dating Fun

2008-12-29T21:06:00.002-06:00

OK.

This is probably rude and uncalled for...but...I can't help myself.

THIS

Be honest and faithfull. Take care cleaning the inside of the house because I will take care of the house duties.

...is an actual headline that some man put up on his online dating profile.

I'm not kidding.

Where do we begin with this one?

Yes, faithful is spelled wrong. Does that mean it doesn't count?

And this man.....who winked at ME.....just wants me to know that as long as I take care cleaning the inside of the house, he will take care of house duties???? wha???

Sometimes it's just downright insulting to even be "winked" at. Ya know?

love and grace,
pam

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Christmas Post

2008-12-24T09:53:00.003-06:00

I've been suffering from a bit of writer's block lately. I appreciate those of you who email me when this happens just to check in. That's so sweet. No, it's more than sweet, it's downright loving. And I love you back.

Remember that post I wrote a few weeks back about a new relationship? Yeah. That one. Let's just pretend I didn't write that one. But don't worry, it's okay. Just trust me on that. If I've learned one thing this year (and hopefully I've learned more than one) it's that dating and blogging don't mix all that well. I guess it's one thing to put the trials and tribulations of being married to a guy who's same sex attracted and eventually leaves you to come out as gay online for the world to see. It's quite another to try and "bare your soul" when you're navigating the world of dating. Mostly, because it's difficult to trust your soul at any given moment in light of the fact that you are just getting to know people. Not to mention the fact that there are OTHER individuals involved who also have souls that are in the same sort of flux. I've said it before and I'll say it again. Dating sucks. I do know this; being alone is better than being in a bad marriage. And if this is as good as it gets, so be it.

In other news, I am going to see all four of the boys during this holiday break. I will hopefully have pictures to post.

Until then, Merry Christmas to all! Thanks for caring and writing and COMMENTING (heehee).

love and grace,
pam

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Childhood Memories

2008-12-14T09:30:00.004-06:00

There's been a recent surge of former classmates and childhood friends of mine joining Facebook and it has been outrageously fun to catch up with these folks. Part of the joy in it, for me, comes from the fact that one of the things I miss the most about having moved away from Granbury is the loss of shared history.

Shared history is incredible because even if you don't remember each event exactly, or at all, if you had a part in any piece of that time and place, you feel connected to it somehow. Connectedness. There's nothing like it.

I shared one such piece of connected history with an elementary classmate of mine named John. John was a year older than me but we were in what our district at that time called a "split class". I think they sold this arrangement to the parents by telling them that some of us were such advanced learners, a.k.a. smart (I don't recall the term "gifted" ever being used back then and I sincerely wish we could scrap its use now.) that we could function in a class where we weren't constantly supervised by the teacher, thus enabling her to teach two entirely different curriculum in one year and in one setting. Looking back, I see this all now as code for, "your kid will sit down, shut up, read the chapter and answer the questions just because someone tells them to do it." While there IS something to be said for that sort of acquiescence in students, I'm pretty sure it's not all that educationally sound.

On to my story.

One day after school, I was walking up the wide sidewalk that connected the long rectangular-shaped buildings which housed the classrooms. Unlike the schools built today, at our school each classroom opened to the outside world. It all seems quite odd to me now. There was no one else around, and I didn't hear John as he came quickly skipping up from behind, kissed me on the cheek, then continued running on. And seriously, I think John's memory of this occurrence probably lasted right up until he reached the other end of the sidewalk or possibly as long as it took him to get home and start rummaging around for an after-school snack.

I, on the other hand, have this occurrence seared in my brain as if laser beams cut it out of steel. You see, I had been kissed by a BOY....a REAL, ALIVE boy. This certainly meant that within the next few months I'd be popping out a little Pammy or God-forbid another kid like John who would run around impregnating innocent 5th grade girls as they made their way home from school.

The first thing I did when I got home was to begin checking my tummy for swelling. I WISH I were kidding you or exaggerating here. I'm not. It was horrific. The fact that I was entirely too nauseous to eat anything for the next three days only affirmed what I knew to be true because pregnant people always felt sick. I'd watched enough "I Love Lucy" to know that kissing is the cause of pregnancy because heck, those two didn't even sleep in the same bed and little Ricky was extremely real and highly annoying with his whiny little voice and incessant banging on that drum of his.

I considered telling my older sister who was 15, but I valued her opinion of me so highly and she'd managed to make it all the way to 15 without getting pregnant. I was so full of shame at having allowed this horrible thing to happen, that I determined that the best course would be to just let them all figure it out on their own. I mean, how long can a 10-year-old realistically hide the fact that a baby is growing in her belly?

As fate would have it, or the fact that being transparent permeates my personality the way Cher's closet brims with hideous designer evening wear, I burst into tears at the dinner table about four days after the kissing incident. Sobbing over my fried chicken, mashed potatoes, and green beans, I blurted out the hideous truth. "John XXXX kissed me!" Feeling certain that I was soon to be whisked away to an aunt's house in faraway Sulphur for the remainder of my gestational period I waited for the reaction of my family.

It was laughter. They laughed.

I was at once relieved and confused. Relieved, obviously, at the fact that I wasn't moving to Sulphur (oh no, that will come much later in life dear under a much different set of tragic conditions). But, confused nonetheless. I mean, how in the heck DID Lucy get pregnant????

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Some thoughts from Kurt on Proposition 8

2008-12-06T09:12:00.002-06:00

This is Kurt, OK? I am the guest blogger. I don't want anybody thinking Pam has moved to El Cerrito and married a guy named Tony.

Now here's something I need to get off my chest about this Proposition 8 (the anti-gay marriage ammendment) controversy here in California. Now I am definitely in the "No on 8" camp, having been married (to the afore-mentioned Tony) at San Francisco City Hall on Valentine's Day, 2004.

But if you ask me the "No on 8" campaign and the subsequent campaign to overturn Prop 8 (either through the courts or a future ballot initiative) have gone off in a fundamentally wrong direction. And that is the direction of characterizing opponents to gay marriage as people who are full of hatred towards gay people.

Now I'm sure there are plenty of people who voted yes on Prop 8 who genuinely hate gay people and would like to see us all locked up in concentration camps (or worse), but I truly believe that hatred is not the what motivates the bulk of the anti-gay-marriage electorate, particularly when you're talking about your standard Evangelical/Catholic/Mormon "family values" voter.

What motivates that voter? I believe it's fear.

Fear of the unknown. Fear of change. Fear of strange-people-who-aren't-like-me. Fear of choices that my children and grandchildren will have that I don't want them to have. And above all fear of the mysterious powers of darkness, fear of Satan.

There is a tendency in the Judeo-Christian tradition to regard all of human history as an epic struggle between God's chosen people (the Jews or the Christians or the Americans) and Satan. And whenever the chosen people disobey God (thereby temporarily giving Satan the upper hand), all kinds of bad things happen. You get banished from the Garden of Eden. God sends you a flood. God incinerates your city. The Babylonians enslave your entire nation. Terrorists attack your country.

Now I think what this means is the more seriously (or literally) you take that tradition of the great war with Satan, the more likely you are to put the gay marriage battle in the context of that struggle. And if you think of our nation as a Christian civilization, and therefore a nation with a special divinely ordained destiny, well, then you're that much more likely to view American current events as part of that epic struggle.

Now. Let's say that is your worldview. Epic struggle. Chosen people. God's going to make bad things happen if Satan wins. Put that worldview in your head for a minute. Is hatred part of that worldview? What happens if some gay person comes up to you and says "Hey! Stop hating me! That's not right!"

Are those words going to mean anything to you? Do you regard yourself as somebody who's full of hatred towards people who don't keep God's commandments?

But what if that same person says "What are you afraid of? Where is your fear coming from? Why does my life frighten you?" That, I think, is where the conversation needs to start.

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Relationship

2008-12-04T15:27:00.002-06:00

The most astute (or just those who feel extra pitiful for me) of readers may recall the occasion last summer when I thought I'd met someone with whom I was going to be "in a relationship". If you don't frequent MySpace or Facebook that term may seem odd, but it's not, it's just how those of us who are *ahem* internet savvy (code words for addicted to online networking) roll.

So, in order to avoid the complete and total disintegration of a relationship before one actually even exists, I've actually waited one ENTIRE week before announcing to my blogworld that I am indeed "IN" a relationship.

Yep.

I am.

:)
More later.

love and grace,
pam

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lonely who???

2008-11-26T13:29:00.004-06:00

I'm not ready to write about it yet.....

but....

OH MY GOSH

more later....

(yes, i know i know...... i've done this before....but...this is different....promise)

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FeeLiNg LonLeY...yet Thankful

2008-11-21T18:30:00.000-06:00

I'm feeling rather lonely lately. Because the truth of the matter is that no matter how busy I am with producing 6th grade versions of The Odyssey or Macbeth (our current project), or reading and writing papers for graduate school, or grading papers, or walking dogs, or updating MySpace and Facebook.....well....there's just nothing that takes the place of having a partner that gives a rip about what the heck is going on with you.

HOWEVER, feeling lonely is normal (for me) and I remind myself that I've felt lonely at times even when I've had a partner(see tragic motif), and so I'm getting past it. I think.

In other news and updates:

My cousin the politician, Wes, got married last weekend to a great girl and they had a lovely wedding that turned out to be the biggest one I've ever had the honor of "coordinating". Basically, I was just in charge of "ram-rodding" the ceremony so that no one forgot when to walk down the aisle, where to stand, or when and how to get the heck back OUT at the end. The couple received a STANDING OVATION at the end of the ceremony (about 600 guests) and I've never seen that happen at the end of a wedding. Neat, yet different.

I've read approximately 3lbs. of the 6lb. book I have for graduate school. I've learned a ton of stuff....no, wait, I guess I've technically learned 3lbs. of stuff. Maybe.

Drew is playing basketball and he is AMAZING. Imagine a NASCAR race with all the heavy souped-up-engine cars wheeling around the track. Out of the nowhere comes a speed demon little Volkswagen darting in, out, and through the pack. That's Drew. So fun to watch.

My 6th grade students continue to "school" me on what it means to be a part of a community that's been together since dirt. OH, it has it's drawbacks, and I tend to hyper-focus on those aspects of life here most of the time. But in the grand scheme of things, I see some kids every day who are gaining the sort of footing that makes them strong enough to go forth and conquer. And I'm challenged to inspire them to do so every day. Even IF they think Obama is Muslim! *wink*

I had an awesome chat with Tdub last night. It's amazing, absolutely amazing really, how REAL he is now that he's living a life that's authentic to his person hood. I will say this: no matter where you fall on the whole gay thing....these guys NEED to be able to just BE. God grant us all the grace to allow folks to just figure out their own crap.....is that so much to ask? Really?

I miss my boys. I just do. I miss being Mom all the time. I think I miss that most of all.

I'm thankful for you. My blog family. I'd ask you to comment just to make me feel good but that would be tacky, wouldn't it??? Would it? Would ya? :)

love and grace,
pam

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Character Analysis

2008-11-06T15:31:00.003-06:00

My students often crack me up. So much so that I could never record it all here because most of it just wouldn't be that funny. And this stuff may not be all that funny either, but I haven't shared anything like this for a while and we had a really good time today.

Today's lesson was a study of character traits in preparation for a character analysis paper.

Me: Let's start by naming some character traits of someone everyone in the room knows. Me. What are some of my character traits and be prepared to provide evidence.

Student: You're outgoing.
Me: Ok. And what is your evidence of that?
Student: You're not afraid to stand out in a room.
Me: What do you mean by "stand out in a room?"
Student: Well, like...if everyone in the room ordered hamburgers, you'd say "I want a hotdog."

Here are a few others. Some of them are down right embarrassing and others are kind of sad when you think about it.

Trait: Creative
Evidence: You make all sorts of stuff like props for the plays and paintings.
Trait: Caring
Evidence: You actually teach us things then help us understand them.
Trait: Unfashionable
Evidence: You dress more uptight than Ms.This or Ms.That (this one hurt, but it did make me laugh....and I'm not entirely sure that one counts as a character trait...hmph!)
Trait: Humorous
Evidence: You say things that are actually funny.
Trait: Crazy
Evidence: You pray over dead markers. (don't ask)
Trait: Kindness
Evidence: You don't yell at us. (oh, but I do, I reminded them) But, when you yell at us it doesn't seem like yelling. (and why might that be?) Because we know that you still like us.

I do love being a teacher.

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Election Day

2008-11-04T08:31:00.004-06:00

One of the secondary reasons I write this blog is for my boys. I want them to have a record of these things. Which means I probably should write about today's election.

My boys all know that I'm voting for Obama. I spend the most time with Drew, so I've had the most conversation with him about it. Drew, who is 14 now, believes strongly that he's a Republican and that McCain needs to win this election. But....I'll give him this....he does talk to me about it in mostly reasonable terms. I'm not worried about his status as a McCain supporter because it's based on nothing but the lies he's chosen to believe about Obama. You know....all the Muslim, not a citizen, baby-killer crap that's been going around the internet for 2 years. He gets this from his dad who absolutely believes these things. Is it any wonder we ended up divorced?

I'd say that 95% of the kids at my school also support McCain and believe those same lies about Obama. It's classic conspiracy-theory paranoia at work. Since they are all too young to know any better, of course they believe the things that their parents tell them. Which is normal and to be expected. I don't argue with them. But I have been honest with them when they ask me who I'm supporting.

The funny thing is this; typically, when they hear that I support Obama, the student will do a double take of some sort, and you can see those little wheels turning. They are processing the fact that an adult that they respect, believe in, and trust is actually making a different decision than the one they've been led to believe is the only one that's reasonable. It's the very beginnings of kids learning that they have options and things to think through. They are at the age where they begin to understand that you don't have to believe everything that you're told and that you CAN investigate things for yourself. Which is what I advise them to begin doing so that when they are old enough to actually vote, they will know their own convictions and vote according to that.

I want to share a few other things that have shocked and concerned me during the election cycle, but I'll wait for another day. Today is the day to sit back and hope and pray for the best. No matter which way you voted.

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The Geeky One

2008-11-01T08:07:00.005-05:00

Most of the work for the graduate program I'm in is done online. There are 8 of us in what they call a "cohort" and we meet only occasionally at this point. Due to the fact that we're in RURAL Oklahoma, and the fact that there's been some sort of jihad between the smaller universities and what territories they cover, we met last week at a Dairy Queen in a tiny town called Tishamingo. No kidding. Trying to set up these meetings has given the whole experience a cultish feel.

Me: How about we meet here?
Professor: That's in their territory.
Me: There?
Professor: No, we have to be more than 20 miles from their headquarters.
Me: What happens if we meet at my house but don't tell anyone where we're meeting?
Professor: They'll find out, they're everywhere. And that would jeopardize you in a way that I'm not comfortable with.

Ok, I'm exaggerating but only slightly. It's crazy. You'd think we were strategizing the overthrow of every Elks Lodge East of I-35 (the small town Elks Lodge is another post unto itself). But no, we're just a bunch of public school teachers trying to get a master's degree so that we can raise our salary a whole $800 a year.

Our professor posed a question at the table last week, actually it was a table pushed up to a booth but let's not get picky here, in an attempt to find out what our motivations were for being in the program. Being public school teachers, most people have the noble goal of actually wanting to learn more so that they could be a more effective teacher. At least that's what they said. One person admitted that this was merely a stepping stone toward her ultimate goal of becoming a college professor. And we did have one member who's all ready obtained a job requiring a master's degree contingent on her participation in the cohort.

Thankfully, I was able to avoid speaking to the question. I wasn't the only one, so it wasn't awkward or anything. I did NOT want to share my motivations because honestly, the very first reason I'm in the program is because it's available. Much like those folks who climb Mt. Everest and when asked "why did you climb that mountain?" they answer with "because it was there." I felt similarly when I graduated from high school. People were congratulating me, throwing me gifts and money, and I was like, "what else was I going to do??? you mean there were options?"

But seriously, the heart of the matter is that I'm just a big geek. I love this stuff. When a professor starts talking about the new brain research and how that impacts what we know about learning styles and developmental psychology my endorphins go bonkers. If we had our meetings in a pentecostal church, I'd probably start speaking in tongues. Being that we meet at Dairy Queen, I guess this would be a more fitting representation. (the good part starts at 51 secs in)

I do stay somewhat at odds with my inner geek because I want to be liked. I don't want the other kids in the class to roll their eyes every time I open my mouth or be sitting there thinking "would she just shut UP." It's a struggle. And even though I made fun of the great big book I got.....well.....the truth is.....I LOVE that book. It's a good read. Seriously. There are things in that book that I've always wondered about in the field of education like, "how did we come up with the idea of junior high?" and "when and why did we switch from junior high to middle school?" and "how exactly do boys differ from girls in the way they process information and how much of that is due to environment?"

My taco salad kept me busy enough that I didn't make too much of a nuisance out of myself last week. I also don't want to be that person who keeps asking questions and talking when everyone just really wants it all to end so that we can all go back home.

If anyone was still wondering why I'm so comfortable teaching middle-schoolers, this post should should provide more clarity. I relate to them, probably way too well, but somebody's got to do it.

I do know one thing. I'm starving myself the day before our next meeting. It's been ages since I've had a DQ Dude, onion rings, and a Blizzard.

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Happy Halloween

2008-10-30T10:25:00.003-05:00

Today is dress up day at school. In keeping with the Greek theme I've had going all year with my 6th graders.....I created my own version of Medusa. Which is ironic (or one of those literary elements) because I'm deathly afraid of snakes. However.....a few googly eyes are all it takes to "friendly up" even something as hideous as a snake.

Fun times. I'll likely post more pics later.

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Happy Birthday Dear Roommate

2008-10-26T09:28:00.002-05:00

I have this amazing roommate. She is one of the most upbeat, good-natured, full-of-grace-and-kindness people I've ever met.

She's an extrovert. And, as anyone who's ever been close with me knows, I'm an introvert. I fake a good extrovert, but at the heart of things I could very easily just hole up in my house and conduct every bit of my business and social life at the spot where I'm conducting it right this moment: on my sofa with my computer in my lap.

Sometimes she gently "forces" me to get out of my little snuggly comfort zone and interact with the world. And yet, she understands that when I'm over here zoned in on something I'm writing or reading, that I need that time to recharge. And even when I know she really needs more time to interact and talk and process socially, the way extroverts do, she allows me the time I need.

She also has this thing she does where she makes me feel smart and wise. She asks me questions about teaching and about how to deal with behaviors and learning problems in her class. And she actually LISTENS to what I have to say about all that! Good grief. And bless her heart!

She's one of the wisest young people I've ever known.
She treats Sparky and Emma as if they belonged to her.
She never oversleeps on the same day that I do. *whew*
She remembers important things that I often forget. (like when it's picture day at school)
She loves to laugh and have fun.

Happy Birthday Crystal! You're an incredible person, FRIEND, and roommate!
I love you!
pam

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Daniel

2008-10-21T21:44:00.004-05:00

Tdub has written a beautiful tribute to #1 over at his place. As a mom, I can't let this one pass without some linkage. I'm proud of all the boys, but I always remind Daniel that he's the one who continues to teach me how to be a mom since he's the oldest and the first to arrive at every stage of life. It humbles and honors me as well that the title of the piece is "grace inherited".

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NOTE to SELF

2008-10-21T09:48:00.001-05:00

If a classroom of 6th graders consisting of 13 boys and 3 girls asks you for an example of
alliteration.....don't say,

"big bouncy balls"

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Turning Gay

2008-10-18T09:49:00.004-05:00

Sometimes I find myself in the midst or even on the edge of conversations where it becomes nearly impossible not to jump in and share. I usually refrain, but not without sometimes having to do something physically painful, like biting off a finger.

One such "conversation starter" that I hear repeatedly here in the great state of Oklahoma is "he turned gay". ????? Ok, I realize that not everyone has had the luxury of living in Gay Boot-Camp 101 the way I did for 7 years. But, come on...."turned gay"? And these are not religiously fundamentalist folks who are spouting this little turn of words. For the most part, these are reasonably educated people who just haven't taken the time to really think about the implications of their words.

Many of the religiously fundamentalist folks (even the educated ones) don't believe there's any such thing as a gay person to begin with. They've all ready got big banners printed up with the words "I TOLD YA SO" ready to take to the streets the next time there's a big earthquake in San Francisco. I won't even address that kettle of rotten fish.

I'll speak from my own experience which has been enhanced with a great deal of research, relationship with actual gay people (Christian ones, *gasp*), and actual time spent contemplating this stuff.

Tdub (Todd) didn't TURN gay. He was gay when I married him. In fact, he was gay during his first marriage-yes, the one where he fathered two sons. Apparently, the fact that he hadn't admitted to anyone, most importantly HIMSELF, that he was gay makes it appear to the very casual observer that he "turned" gay.

I went out with this guy a few weeks ago who, upon hearing a few scant details of my marriage history responded with "Well, you aren't going to turn me gay." There was a pause in the conversation big enough to drive a semi through, and in an act of grace almost as big as the one it took to stay married to Tdub, I simply let that go. Sometimes it's just not worth it, not to mention the fact that we had a really awesome dessert coming.

Tdub "came out", he didn't "turn gay". He did make choices that were different than the ones I was hoping for upon that decision. For him, coming to terms with the way that he had always been meant divorcing me and tearing our family apart. I'll not mince words here. However, I believe it was, for him, a matter of integrity and I choose to respect that decision and live with integrity in my own life. Love is patient, love is kind, love NEVER fails....even if others make decisions that hurt me.

Another really bothersome aspect of the whole "turned gay" opinion is that many times the people speak with great authority yet have nothing more than having watched TV to back up their belief. The closest many of them get to actually having any sort of relationship with a living, breathing gay person is some lady at work who had a son who "turned gay". You don't have to talk to them very long to figure this out. Nevermind that there's been scholarly research done on the subject as well as an internet chocked full of articles, studies, and anecdotal information of the sort I offer here. It would be like me giving you my opinion of the Vietnam War based on nothing more than having watched M*A*S*H reruns....and yes, I realize that show was set in Korea!

The bottom line is this; I could no more "turn gay" than I could turn into a purple bunny rabbit. And if I WERE a purple bunny rabbit, I would hope that the other bunnies would allow me to live among them free of shame and able to make decisions about my bunniness that did not include trying to "turn" me into something I never was.

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School and School

2008-10-11T21:46:00.002-05:00

I'm in the thick of this mostly online master's degree program. And my first observation is that trying to "study" while online is like conducting a prayer vigil at the Macy's Day Parade. It's not the best environment for those of us with attention issues.

However, I'm actually doing fine with it and managing to complete everything on time and with success.

In other school news, I know I've talked like this before, but this time I mean it: Teaching 6th grade reading is the absolute BEST teaching assignment I've ever had.....EVER.

And in still OTHER news....if you are my sibling and you are reading this....I need to come see you for Fall Break! ;)

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Online Connections

2008-10-05T09:48:00.002-05:00

I still get emails quite frequently from someone who's been reading the blog for years or sometimes someone who's stumbled onto it and read the whole thing over the course of a night or a couple of days. It's awfully encouraging to hear from other men and women who've found encouragement here. I don't think they actually find answers (and I'm certainly not arrogant enough to think I actually have any of those), but they do find that the way they are feeling is "normal" and that it's possible to maintain some level of sanity and a positive outlook in the midst of a purely tragic situation.

Then, occasionally, I'll stumble onto a blog out there from a woman or man who is at this moment living the sort of tragedy that I lived during my marriage to Tdub. It's tough to read, yet I'll find myself reading it in the same sort of way I can't stop scratching a mosquito bite.

I've been reading one of those stories lately. I'll not link to it because I'm not sure they'd want more attention brought that way and they appear to have their own little blog circle of friendship formed much the way I have mine here.

Many of the circumstances of their story are different. They've only ever been married to one another and their children belong to them together. They're not involved in any sort of therapy to try and change or manage the guy's attractions to other guys. They are both blogging about their experiences and feelings. Also, and I admire this so much, the guy came out to his wife of his own volition. He wasn't acting out sexually or forced to come clean with her because their marriage was in deep trouble. Basically, it appears to me that she is his best friend and he could no longer keep it from her, even though he apparently married her believing that it was something he could "work through" or "get past".

And that's where the stories, theirs and mine, intersect in a way that brings it all rushing back and gives me a kinship with them that runs deep, cutting to the very core of who we are as human beings. Reading their story reminds me of the reasons I started blogging in the first place. It's connection. Finding other folks who related to me, particularly in the middle of something so daunting, gave me a sense of purpose and even hope that all was not, and is not, for naught.

There's nothing much worse than living as a victim in some sort cruel play. It's a hopeless feeling. But somehow, knowing that I was not alone, gave me hope.

I want that couple to know that there is hope, so I'll keep checking in on them. And even though there are times as I read their story that I feel like I'm watching a train wreck in slow motion, I'm here for them. Just as so many of you have always been here for me.

love and grace,
pam

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The New Geography

2008-10-03T15:47:00.004-05:00

Just stumbled upon this and thought it was worth sharing.

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Graduate School

2008-10-01T16:34:00.009-05:00

Alert readers may recall that my decision to stay in Sulphur ultimately came down to a grant program offered by my school district whereby I can get my master's degree free of charge.

This is the book for one of the two classes I'm taking this semester.

At first glance, I was sure there'd been a mistake and that I'd inadvertently received the large-print or maybe even the Braille version of this text. It's over 2 inches thick, weighs in at just over 6 lbs., and has one-thousand fifty eight pages of 10 pt. font not including references and index.

Furthermore, the title says it's a HANDBOOK. I'm thinking of affectionately calling it "Everything You Always Wanted To Know About Teaching Kids To Read But Were Too Stupid To Ask Because You've Never Read This Book." I could actually fit that on the cover.

Hmmm.... Sharpie marker, anyone???

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Meeting Kurt

2008-09-26T15:32:00.001-05:00

Last fall, I invited Kurt True to share blogging privileges with me at Willful Grace.
Kurt started commenting here at the blog not too long after I began writing it. From those initial comments, the first really memorable exchange we had was this one:

kurt_t said:

For my 40th me and the better half went to Disneyland. Had birthday breakfast at Goofy's Kitchen in the Disneyland Hotel. Pluto and the Mad Hatter sang "Happy Birthday" to me. Well, Pluto doesn't really sing, he kind of pantomimed it, and after I blew out my candles, what should they start playing but "The Circle of Life" from "The Lion King." Then I went and got my picture taken with Winnie the Pooh and rode Alice in Wonderland about five times. And it worked. I did NOT feel old. Not for one minute.

grace said:

Kurt: do you have kids??? is your wife like a "disney freak"? there must be SOME reason you allowed yourself to be submitted to this sort of...uh...."disney-a-go-go" sort of experience...unless you are that into Disney, not that there's anything wrong with that....;)....what gives, dude??? Whatever it is...you score major points for submitting to it...even though it all sounds like a TON of fun...for real! :) grace

tdub said:

OH! OH! OH! I wanna go to DisneyWorld for my birthday!!! Wouldn't that be a blast? We could go for all our birthdays! :)

kurt_t said:
Wife? No. I'm actually one of your many gay male admirers. Poor Grace, you must feel like you're turning into Cher or something! Anyway, I'm a big Winnie the Pooh fan. I was part of the first wave of Winnie the Pooh kids in the U.S. The Milne stories weren't well-known in the U.S., and when Disney came out with the Winnie the Pooh shorts (which were eventually compiled into "The Magical World of Winnie the Pooh"), that's when Winnie the Pooh became really popular in the U.S. Here's a picture from my birthda y. That's me on the right. Oh! Winnie the Pooh has his own ride at Disneyland now! But if I tell you how many times I went on it, I'm going to start to sound weird.

grace said:

Kurt: Oh! Well cool! That's a cute picture. I always loved Winnie-the-Pooh stories as well. The whole idea of the Hundred Acre Wood just sounds like heaven to me....and that scene of Christopher Robin's room before the movies begin...I always wanted that room. I also love those little books of "wisdom" from Winnie-the-Pooh. Can I be Bette Midler instead of Cher? I like her taste in clothes more. ;)

kurt_t said:

If you want to be Bette Midler instead of Cher, that means you're 27 pounds heavier. On the upside, you have better taste in clothing and a wider vocal range, and you were never married to Greg Allman. I guess it would be a net gain, huh?

grace said:

27 pounds, huh?? Dang! Ok, fine, I'll be Cher! ;)

From there, our blog friendship was formed.

Over the next 3 years Kurt never failed to encourage me, and more often than not, make me laugh out loud with his offbeat humor. Another of his comments that stands out to me is one he made on a post I titled "Sucks to be Me".

I'd arrived home on a Friday afternoon and as I opened the back door, even with the dogs there to greet me with leaping, jumping, and wagging tails, I just sort of "lost it". It was one of those "narrow" days that Jean Schulz spoke of last week, and it seemed to be closing in on me. I sat down and wrote a blog post about how I was feeling, and this was Kurt's comment of encouragement:

kurt_t said...

I think those of us who've been through the kind of ordeals that you've been through, or different kinds of ordeals, like domestic violence or warfare or addiction or some terrible accident, on our good days, we look back on the ordeal and we say "That made me a stronger person." Or "That made me a more compassionate person." Or a braver person, or a better teacher, spouse, mom, dad, nurse, artist. On your good days you can see some profit in the ordeal.

On your bad days, your worst bad days, I think you look back on the ordeal, and you say "This has all been some terrible mistake. I wasn't supposed to survive that ordeal. What am I doing here?" And instead of feeling stronger, you feel like you're pinned under a pile of rubble, scorched, bleeding, paralyzed, and you look up at that mushroom cloud rising over your head and say "What kind of cruel joke is this?"

But the good news is even the worst of the worst of the bad days of your life only lasts 24 hours, and that mushroom cloud is going to blow away, and you're going to drag yourself out of the wreckage and, when you do, you're going to find out that you weren't really alone.

And that's Kurt. Over the years, I've often found myself wondering what gem Kurt will leave in the comments as soon as I hit the publish button. And I still do.

Some people marvel (and I marvel that they marvel) at the fact that I am not bitter, angry, or just generally repelled by "the gays" after all that I've been through. The thing is this; I didn't marry "the gays". I married a guy named Todd who had some issues. And, oh yeah, he happens to be gay. I don't despise all rednecks just because my first husband was one of those. (LOL LOL) Well, mostly I don't. ;) Personally, I'm mostly repelled by the unfortunately huge number of folks who will say things like, "oh, I LOVE gay people, I just don't want to have anything whatsoever to do with them." Some people say it and others just behave in a way that says the exact same thing. I'm as astonished by that attitude as some of them seem to be by me and my attitude . *sigh* Oh well.

Kurt drove from El Cerrito out to San Jose where I was staying last week. He took me to a few of his favorite spots: Mission San Juan Bautista, the quaint little town o f San Jua n including the local cemetery, and Garlic World in Gilroy w here we ate garlic ice cream.

Our meeting....
ok...so did we get that shot or do I need to hug him again?

This is Mission San Juan Bautista, one of the few (according to Kurt) restored Franciscan missions that still holds Mass on a regular schedule. Kurt and I said a prayer and lit a candle for his mom during our visit.

The mission overlooks the original El Camino Real or "The King's Highway" which originally connected the 21 missions of California and ran all the way to Mexico. The monks used to sprinkle mustard seeds along the road so that it would be marked with distinctive yellow flowers.

We walked around the little town of San Juan where they were having an Art & Wine Festival. It had a bit of a "Taos" sort of feel to it. Very nice.

After visiting the cemetery at San Juan, (the day offered the perfect lighting for cemetery pictures and I'll probably post some of those at some point) we made our last stop of the day at Garlic World in Gilroy, CA. Which, to quote Kurt, "is so much more than just garlic."

You are not mistaken, that is the world's longest chain of garlic.

I'm looking forward to Kurt's up-coming post titled "Meeting Pam/Grace"-whatever he's calling me now! ;)

Much to Blog

2008-09-23T22:27:00.003-05:00

I've got a computer full of pictures and several posts stewing around in my head to accompany many of them.....

....but all I can think of right now is how incredibly awesome it is to be HOME with Sparky and Emma curled up next to me, my ceiling fan humming quietly overhead, and my two favorite pillows just waiting for me to continue from where I was so rudely interrupted this morning.

Here's one little "teaser" of a photo that will accompany my next post.
Yes boys and girls, we can finally confirm once and for all that Pam/Grace and "Big Daddy" Kurt are not the same person! What fun we had. More to come....

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The WIDEST Day of All

2008-09-20T01:39:00.024-05:00

I don't think I've ever written here about my passion for the life and work of Charles Schulz. Well, it's time I did that because yesterday was the most amazing day, right up there with the birth of my boys, as far as memorable experiences go.

To frame the event you must know that I've read practically every book ever written about Charles Schulz and have admired the humor, insight, and creative genius of the Peanuts comic strip for as long as I can remember. I know everything about Schulz and the characters he created because I love them. I knew that I'd grown to love the person of Charles Schulz when I broke down and cried upon hearing of his death back in 2000. It was the first and only time I remember becoming so emotional over the death of someone famous as if I'd known them personally.

I've wanted to visit Santa Rosa, CA for as long as I can remember because I knew that Schulz lived and worked there. I knew that you could find him in the Redwood Empire Ice Arena where he ate breakfast and lunch every day, and I knew that his studio was within walking distance of the rink. I'd also known that plans were in the works before his death to open a museum in honor of the man and his work. I even wrote and was turned down for a grant from the Fund for Teachers organization last year in an attempt to visit Santa Rosa and the museum and be able to enrich the lives of my students by sharing my passion with them. Simply stated, I've been a serious student of Charles Schulz and his work for years and years.

For now, I'll just say that due to the generosity of a friend, I was able to fulfill my life's dream of visiting Santa Rosa and the Charles Schulz Museum yesterday. It was INCREDIBLE. I cried tears of joy off and on during the entire visit. I could hardly believe that I was there. The entire experience was a complete surprise. I told my friend that I literally could not have been more excited if he'd announced yesterday morning that I was going to spend the day in Florence, Italy.

Welcome to the Charles Schulz Museum.

I took this picture for a friend of mine, and I'm going to let him figure out who he is. *wink*

This is the education room where classes are held and where adults and children can create artwork in response to their experiences.

One of the most moving pieces of the permanent exhibit for me was the recreation of "Sparky's Studio" where Schulz created the comic strip every day. Most of the artifacts in this space are the pieces of furniture, pictures, pens, curios, and the actual books contained in his personal library that surrounded him each day as he worked. I was, again, moved to tears as I entered this space. I wrote down many titles from his library that I intend to read.

These pictures were all taken outside the Ice Arena where I ate lunch at the Warm Puppy Cafe'.

The day was absolutely FUN. It was difficult for me to drag myself away and I did so, again, with tears of joy over the fact that I'd been able to experience something I'd been looking forward to doing for so long.

And then, it was as if God looked down and said, "you know, Pam is so completely happy and grateful and so incredibly full of joy, I think what I'll do is just take that up a notch and let her know without a doubt that I'm right here watching and that I like what I see." I can't even write this now without sitting here bawling my eyes out.

A lady approached me in the parking lot and said, "I just want to let you know that it's meant a great deal to me to see you having fun here today. I was having a business lunch with my stepson at the Warm Puppy and we couldn't help but notice how much you've enjoyed yourself. I'm Jean Schulz."

JEAN.SCHULZ.

I gasped. And the tears came again. Tears of indescribable joy. And she extended her arms to me and hugged me. And then, the wife of the man who's philosophy, art, attitude, and, theology have impacted not only me but an entire WORLD, stood in that parking lot and talked with me about her husband, his life, some of his motivations, and about the characters he created. She talked about a particular strip where Charlie Brown and Sally are having a conversation about days. Sally asks Charlie if the days are getting longer or shorter. Charlie's reply was to say that days are not long or short but narrow and wide. Jean went on to say that she loved that concept because there are days that do feel narrow, as if they are closing in on you. And then, there are other days that are wide and are giving you room to expand.

THANK YOU, Jean Schulz, for giving me the WIDEST day of all.

Today's experience was an example of God's infinite grace bestowed so abundantly on me.

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Blog on a Stick

2008-09-15T19:10:00.023-05:00

Drew and I had the most delightful day we've had in I-can't-remember-when on Sunday. We met a friend in OKC and went to the Oklahoma State Fair.

The day was vibrant and alive. In Starbucks terms, yesterday was a triple shot macchiato with extra cream and two pumps of flavored syrup. Intensely beautiful.

One of the greatest guilty pleasures at any fair is the food. In fact, in our brief pre-fair email exchanges, my friend and I both commented that eating "bad for you" food was a primary motivation for attending.

We hadn't been there long when we started scoping out the midway and taking mental notes in an effort to fall off our respective "healthy eating habits wagon" in the most satisfactory way to our palette that would be the least offensive to our digestive system. If anyone still has doubts that I'm actually in my 40's, this sort of information truly gives me away. Long gone are the days when there was no such thing as a digestive hangover.

Not long into our food excursion, we began to notice a theme.

I guess it all started long ago, before someone came up with the word corndog.

These were surely only a short leap for the folks who create tempting new foods for fairs.

I'm pretty sure that this on is just a fancy way of saying ALLIGATOR ON A STICK.

The one that really grabbed our attention was this one.

And finally, the one I just do not understand and was not able to document with a picture....

A quick Google search revealed that the Oklahoma State Fair is pretty lame when it comes to items on a stick. Apparently, this is a BIG deal up in Minnesota where you can eat 63 different items from a stick. They are all documented in this silly YouTube video. And yes Chad, apparently there IS such a thing as spaghetti-on-a-stick.

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O M G

2008-09-12T22:22:00.001-05:00

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Home Sweet Dog

2008-09-10T23:08:00.005-05:00

The weather has turned rainy and cool here this week. It's the perfect weather for enjoying my big front porch.

And Sparky rules the porch.
I love this dog.

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Processing Post 87

2008-09-05T21:51:00.008-05:00

I've lost count of how many posts I've titled "Processing". I guess I should have started numbering them long ago.

I'm finding that it's easier to tell the bad stuff the further out I get. It doesn't hurt either, that Tdub and I remain friends and we've recognized that seeing the other person live and overcome can actually be helpful in our own journey as we pick up our pieces and move forward. It's unusual, yes, but unusual is very different from bad or wrong.

Back in the anonymous days, I never wrote much of the heartache and pain of being married to an SSA struggler. I mostly did that because it would have been hurtful to Tdub, but I think part of me was also afraid to talk about it too much because talking about it would have revealed just how much rationalization I was having to go through to stay married to him in the first place. So back then, I wrote mostly about the positive aspects of our marriage, our joys and struggles with the boys, and a bunch of my personal ideas about being a Christian, etc...

Being back in the "dating game" (which may sound fun but trust me, it's overrated) has given me a new outlook on the whole "males attracted to females" aspect of life in general. Or I guess I should say that my marriage to Todd afforded me a different outlook than I had before. In my online dating exploits I often find myself replying to my suitors (blame my recent foray into Homer's Odyssey for my use of the word "suitors") with a weird mix of rejection and appreciation.

Some of my replies go something like this: "Thank you for the compliments. I do value and appreciate your interest in me but I don't sense a similar attraction on my part and I generally don't believe we'd be a good match for one another. But I sincerely appreciate your interest because it does feel nice to be wanted." That or something similar. That probably sounds really corny or something, but believe it or not, most guys are very appreciative of the honesty and seem to be a bit confounded by the appreciation.

I told someone the other day that I had a great appreciation for male attraction even if I wasn't willing to respond to the males in question. I've learned what it's like to be with a man who doesn't have a basic "need" to be with you or an inner stirring that causes him to lose all sense of reason just from watching you flip pancakes or throw clothes from the washer to the dryer.

With Tdub, I never felt really needed. In fact, I knew all along what he needed as well as what I needed. We were each longing for the love of a man. According to reparative therapy, if Tdub could have just gotten a good, healthy dose of manhood by having healthy relationships with male friends, he'd have eventually developed the sort of stirrings that men have for women. Basic attraction, basically.

I learned that this basic attraction is a vital piece of a healthy marriage. I often felt purposeless in my marriage to Tdub because I didn't feel really needed. Being married to a man who does all the laundry (and does it WELL), keeps up with all the kids activities, and not only helps but enjoys staying up half the night with you setting up Christmas decorations may sound like a dream for many women. And honestly, it was. Those things that we shared were incredibly fulfilling in their own way. But the whole thing would fall completley on its face the minute the lights were out and we went to bed. I went to bed with a brother, not a husband. I had nothing to offer Tdub in the way of physical fulfillment. In fact, intimacy became, for him, just another thing to check from the list of things he needed to accomplish for the....uh....month, maybe? It was pretty bad.

So now, I do appreciate and value male attraction. I find it refreshing, not something that gets in the way of really getting to know someone. In fact, after what I've been through, it's important to me to KNOW that a man is attracted to me physically. That's an important item on my personal checklist. The downside is that physical attraction could easily become a problem for me if I weren't self-disciplined and actually committed to checking off a great deal more things from that list of mine before I venture into that realm. But, in the words of Martha Stewart, that's a good thing.

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The Fruits of My Labor Day Weekend

2008-09-02T17:37:00.009-05:00

The kids were thrilled today when I showed up with headbands for every character (more pictures of those to come later), the chariot, and the Greek style ship for Odysseus. Liability prevents me from showing much more than I am as far as students go. Which is why you get nothing but me and my poor imitation of Vanna White next to the chariot and boat. Oh well. Needless to say, I'm pretty proud of these things and I have a very sore and healing thumb to show for it. Stealing a line from blog buddy Kurt, "The box knife is a harsh mistress."
Odysseus! Princess Nausicaa Homer

And finally...my personal favorite (who also my happens to be my cousin!)

THE CYCLOPS!

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Stuff That Makes Me Feel Old

2008-09-01T08:00:00.002-05:00

I have lots of young friends. Which is cool. Part of it comes from my profession and part from having teenage sons, but my most massive quadrant of youthful aquaintance stems from the fact that Tdub and I spent all those years volunteering almost all of our free time to youth group activities at church.

And there really are some things about growing up that will never change. People are just people the world over and we can , if we try hard enough, find ways to connect with each other through some common human life experiences.

But some things have changed a LOT. I keep noticing, because of Facebook and Myspace, how very DOCUMENTED the lives of kids are these days. I mean, seriously, I've seen a girl post a picture after breaking her fingernail. Some of the stuff the boys put up is just downright gross. And I do mean in a really gross way...not a nasty, dirty way, although that can be found as well. Oh, and sick now means awesome. Did the rest of you catch that little twist of words as it came zipping into the lexicon? I think bad may have gone back to actually being bad. Not sure.

Back in the day, those of us who had our first baby during our mid-twenties, used to build these massive photo albums documenting things like our child's first bath (in the sink), their first foray into the clothes dryer (those are always cute ones), and the obligatory photo of them sitting in the middle of the kitchen floor surrounded by Tupperware (remember that stuff??), pots, and pans. My point is, the child had actually DONE something that seemed at least somewhat worthy of snapping pictures. I mean, after all, we had to actually take FILM to a separate location and wait at least one whole hour (seems like eons now) to get these things back so that we could label them and add them a work the size of the Gutenberg Bible by the time we were done with it. I've actually had shelves begin to buckle under the weight of Daniel's photo albums, and those are just the ones from his first year.

Now these kids go off to college and within the first week, on Facebook, I can determine within 100 calories how much they've consumed from the 4 basic food groups. And by the way, kids these days don't eat nearly enough vegetables. Granted, it's mostly girls who have Facebook albums with names like, "dorm room fun", just outside the dorm room fun", "in the hall of the dorm room fun", and oh yes, "in the mirror of my dorm room fun". As a matter of fact, I can honestly say that I've not seen one dorm room picture yet from any of the young men, some of whom I did teach as 2nd or 5th graders, on my Facebook list. The boys tend to document more of the food they eat, sans vegetables, and their many late night sessions of Guitar Hero, which always appears to be happening in a place bigger than a dorm room. Maybe the common area? Or some upperclassman's trailer house? Not sure. Either way, these kids are documented.

When I was in college we only had the pictures the party pic guy was able to snap before he got to drunk to remember to keep doing his job. And if we wanted those, we had go to some location to look at them and to buy them.

So yeah, today's youth make me feel old sometimes. But I don't mind really. I'm mostly just glad they've added me to their Facebook accounts. Somebody's got to remind them to eat their vegetables.

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Note to Self

2008-08-31T17:19:00.001-05:00

OOOOOOUUUUUUCCCCCCCCH!

Keep left hand far removed from direction in which right hand is moving with the box knife. Or...just don't use box knives any more for any reason.

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In Other News...

2008-08-28T15:46:00.003-05:00

Sorry for the lack of explanation of my recent outburst. I don't have anything more to add.

So, let's talk about something else.

School. Is. Great.

I teach six 50-minute classes of Reading and one 50-minute class called "Block". Block class consists of 10 or 11 students and we rotate groups every 6 weeks. My principal gave me some leeway in determining what sort of enrichment I would provide for students during my block time.

I chose theatre and my 10 kids and I are putting on a play. It's called, "The Odyssey-A Greek Play for Students." I am having an absolute blast with this. I intend to spend a good chunk of my weekend working on props and scenery and I'll post pictures soon.

A few evenings ago , I made each of my block students a mini-toga that drapes on over their clothes. I feared they might be shy about putting them on and walking around the school; we make a little bit of a trek from my classroom down to the band room for rehearsals each day. The togas are not full length, but they are definitely toga-looking as evidenced by the band teacher who, passing by us on our first day out and about in our new duds, leaned toward me, put his fist in the air, and chanted quietly in my ear "toga toga, toga". Maintaining non-dork status is of utmost importance to 6th graders, so I had no idea how these costumes would go over.

Turns out, being in theatre block class seems to have become the latest cool thing to be doing at our school. We've transcended dork status and become "that thing Ms. Ferguson is doing that I'll get to do at some point and by the way when is it my turn?" I'm pretty sure I could dress the next rotation up as polka-dotted bunny rabbits from outer space and they'd be okay with it.

I love school.

Got to run for now. I have the back seat of my car crammed full with great big boxes I scavenged from the furniture store so that I can create a ship for Odysseus and a horse-drawn chariot for a couple of other characters. I'm in my element.

love and grace,
pam

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2008-08-26T23:30:00.001-05:00

AAAAaaaUUUUuuuuuuuugGGGGGggggggHHHHHHH!!!!!!!

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More on Love

2008-08-24T10:01:00.003-05:00

I just found this on a friend's Facebook and wanted to add it to my blog for posterity or whatever.

"Love is handing your heart to someone and taking the risk that they will hand it back because they don't want it. That's why it's such a crushing ache on the inside. We gave away a part of ourselves and it wasn't wanted.

Love is a giving away of power. When we love, we give the other person the power in the relationship. They can do what they choose. They can do what they like with our love. They can reject it, they can accept it, they can step toward us in gratitude and appreciation.

Love is a giving away. When we love, we put ourselves out there, we expose ourselves, we allow ourselves to be vulnerable.

Love is giving up control. It's surrendering the desire to control the other person. If we are serious about loving someone, we have to surrender all of the desires within us to manipulate the relationship."

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Love

2008-08-21T17:39:00.001-05:00

So, the saying goes, "Tis better to have loved and lost than never to have loved at all."

Really? I mean, is it? At some point, you've got to wonder.

I did a tiny bit of research about that saying and found out that Tennyson wrote it while grieving over a friend who'd died suddenly. We must typically apply it to romantic love because it's harder to reason it out when the risk you're taking to love someone is of a romantic nature.

If you've read here long, you've heard me talk about love being a choice. And I've referred to romantic love in those terms as well because ultimately, I believe it IS a choice. The part that's SO frustrating and that is NOT a choice is that part that makes you attracted to someone in the first place to the point that you have a choice to make about loving them. That's the part that really wears me out at this point in my particular life. It's so unpredictable sometimes, and just when you think you have it figured out, it will turn on you and bite you in the butt.

So, this is my cryptic way of working through some of this stuff without actually saying much about it. Sorry. But, hey, it's my blog. *wink*

More details to come. You guys know I never (or rarely) disappoint when it comes to details.

love and grace,
pam

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Good kids? Good teacher...

2008-08-19T15:55:00.002-05:00

Teachers are frequently asked about their students. It’s pretty common for us to hear “How are your classes?” or “How are your students?” I’ve come to realize that the answers we give to those questions say a great deal more about us than our students. The fact of the matter is that my kids and my classes are, for the most part, a reflection of me.

Oh sure, we all get the random psycho kid now and then who doesn’t respond, or responds in a completely off the wall manner, to our very best efforts. I taught a 2^nd grader, or maybe I should say I “housed” him in my classroom that year, who would, on occasion, curl up in a ball under my desk and growl at me. This was actually a preferred behavior to many of his other quirks, some of which would make a sailor blush. I shudder to think what’s happened to him. That was well over 10 years ago so he’s probably either graduated early from college or is serving time. He was the sort that was going one way or the other to the extreme.

For the most part, however, my students are as good as I am. When I’m happy, content, and well-mannered with them, they tend to reflect that manner back to me. When I’m in a foul mood (it happens sometimes) and I’m abrasive and short with them, they reflect that as well.

Kids appreciate boundaries that are put in place with respect and dignity for them as individuals. Respecting kids builds trust and yes, it does take longer to build trust with some kids than with others. But, I can guarantee that if kids don’t feel safe and able to trust a teacher, there will be acting out. Every time. I could talk for hours and write reams about this. But, I’ll shorten it all down to this: Trust and relationship are the components that set the great teachers apart from the adequate ones. And those are the reasons that great teachers can never be replaced with online study or computer generated lessons.

It’s a sad truth that even the great teachers don’t reach every kid every time. Or, it doesn’t appear that we do. I have had kids come back to visit me or email me to tell me that I made a difference for them, and many times it's one with whom I’d never felt a great connection. And it's not just me, I hear about this happening a lot among my colleagues who are also great teachers. That sort of thing motivates and inspires us to keep slogging along and giving it our best every day with every kid. And you know, I guess I've taught long enough that I don't mind admitting that I'm good at it. I mean, I'd have to hope that if I weren't any good at it by now, I'd find something else to do.

As far as teacher pay goes, well yeah, it sucks. And the suckage in Oklahoma really does seem to be the force that keeps Texas from falling into the gulf. But, here’s the deal with that; great teachers could never possibly be adequately compensated for what they do. And, even though I’d love it if the world would wake up and at least try to adequately compensate us for providing a place for every single young person in this country to go and spend time every day, let alone educating them while they’re there, I’m pretty sure that’s not going to happen any time soon. If I’m working at top form there’s no amount of money that can buy what I do.

So, how are my classes? How are my students?

They are incredible.

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De-Skunking Your Dog

2008-08-15T00:08:00.003-05:00

In an effort to drive even more traffic to this site than arrives here via the search for "heart shaped rocks" or even the old faithful "baby possum" posts, I've decided to share the sure-fire remedy for de-skunking your dog. Why, you may ask, the sudden interest in de-skunkifying dogs???

Yep. It happened. Sparky and Emma, in what I believed to be their normal frenzied pursuit of one of the cats that frequents the front porch, met their match tonight in the form of a skunk.

I'm pretty sure they're both emotionally scarred at this point; I know I am. It's after midnight as I sit here with all the windows open in an attempt to air out the house. In my panic at the sight of them going after a skunk on the porch, I opened the front door very wide and the odor came flooding inside. It's a nauseating mixture of nastiness like I've never known, as if an oil refinery invited a sewage plant to a local bonfire and they both jumped in the flames.

I bathed them immediately in regular dog shampoo which seemed to only anger the odor, causing it to jump onto ME. After Google searching and confirming in more than one
official-looking place that tomato juice really doesn't work at killing skunk odor, I found this recipe.

1 quart hydrogen peroxide
1/4 C. baking soda
1 tsp. laundry detergent

I had to soak them down in this mixture and let it sit on them for 5 minutes. This is where most of the emotional scarring occurred. Sparky and Emma aren't used to me splashing freezing cold, irritating liquids on them and then forcing them to stay in the bathtub while they shiver like full-sized doggy-shaped vibrators. They were a sad and pathetic sight to say the least.

But, that mixture DOES work. And thank the Lord for a roommate with a well-stocked medicine cabinet because I've never even considered owning a quart-sized bottle of hydrogen peroxide. Go roommate!

I was absolutely exhausted and headed for bed 2 hours ago when this event occurred. And now, well now, I'm still having a hard time taking deep breaths since the odor is not just lingering, it seems it's propped its feet up and is making itself at home. Ugh.

We're definitely sleeping with all the windows open tonight. Hopefully, I'll eventually be able to rest. For those of you in the weeks and months to come who arrive here via the nastiness of an evil skunk, I feel your pain.

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Olympic Musings

2008-08-14T21:43:00.003-05:00

First of all, who picked China??? Can we not please next time have the Olympics at least on THIS side of the earth so that we don't have to stay up until ALL hours of the night to see the really good stuff?

Also, am I the only one who secretly cheers for the Chinese athletes simply because I'm afraid if they don't win someone might cut a few of their fingers (or maybe an arm) after everyone goes home??

Next time we have these things on the other side of town, we need to make sure that no school districts are allowed to start classes during the same week that this thing takes place. Think of the children. Please.

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First Day Back

2008-08-11T19:25:00.005-05:00

I taught my 20th first day of school today.

I remember so vividly being literally scared to death in a room full of first graders on the first day of school back in 1988. I was so terrified that they'd be able to tell that I had no idea what I was doing. Much of the time I was figuring things out second by second as we went along. The benefit of teaching very young children like 1st graders was that they were every bit as scared as me. Somehow we all made it through that year, and I still credit much of my success as an educator to 5 veteran teachers, all long retired now, who walked me through that first go-round. I still use many techniques that I learned from those great teachers that year.

Now that I'm teaching middle school kids, I feel a bit sorry for young, first-year teachers who have middle schoolers as their first experience with teaching. These kids can smell inexperience and they feed on it. Like tiger sharks, circling their prey, they work the young teacher into a sort of frenzy until she completely loses her composure. The sheer enjoyment of seeing her at her wits end, causing her to discipline them, makes up for any consequences she may exact on them.

We have a couple of brand new, fresh out of the oven, teachers in 6th grade. They are both well-prepared and incredibly intelligent, but no amount of education or depth of knowledge in a subject can make up for having a bank of experiences from which to draw.

Today, one of the new teachers came over to me at passing period and said, "Just wait until you get the group I just had. They were horrible! You should probably go ahead and make a seating chart for them before they get to you because I had to move several boys around and they do NOT need to be sitting together." I thanked her for the heads-up but told her it wouldn't be right not to give them the chance to screw up with me, proving that they actually needed a seating chart. She agreed but went ahead and told me their names. Turns out, I'd all ready had that group. And they were perfect in my room. I didn't tell her this because I don't want to discourage her in any way.

Inside I was giving myself a great big high five. I've waited years to be the sort of teacher whose very presence inspired a certain level of discipline. There's a confidence and a sort of air that surrounds a more experienced teacher. I remember admiring this trait in the teachers I looked up to when I was young and inexperienced. And now, I finally have it!

I'm not a heavy-handed teacher by any means. In fact, it is typically for me to be lifelong friends with my students, and I keep in touch with more of them than I can count. But, I do say what I mean and mean what I say, and the kids can sense this. At least they can now. Now that I've got the confidence of experience to back it up.

So, here's to a great 20th year of teaching!

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Blogiversary

2008-08-07T12:37:00.002-05:00

I realized today that as of a few weeks ago I've been blogging for 4 years now. And, it was almost exactly two years ago when I wrote this post. When I think about that time, that horrific, horrible time, it's almost as if it's a movie I saw once. It's weird, but I've actually had the thought of asking some of you, those of you who've been with me from the beginning, to tell me about that time. It's almost as if I wasn't really "there".

This may sound odd, it does to me, but I have never gone back and looked at any of the posts from back then since the time that I wrote them. And so, today, I thought I'd give it a shot and just scoot back into the archives and take a peek. I pulled up the one that I linked to because it was the one title I DO remember writing. Honestly, of all the things that went on during that time, one of my most coherent memories is of sitting down at the computer and writing something titled "I Hurt." And that's seriously my most vivid memory from the entire ordeal of that week that went by when Tdub made the decision to leave.

I pulled that post up, read it, and immediately began to sob uncontrollably. It was a very physical sort of reaction. It was almost as distinct as flipping a switch, no kidding. And it just happened. I didn't work my way into it or get mopey and sad first or anything. I just read it and then sobs burst out. Very. Very. Strange.

I'm over it now. The sobbing, I mean. Which is why I'm writing this. It's just so very odd to me. The sobbing stopped almost as quickly as it came and I decided to look at a few of the posts preceeding that one because I've wondered on reflection if there were any clues that could have alerted me at the time as to what was about to happen.

I found this quote from the book I'd read that summer:

"Closing Sohrab's door, I wondered if that was how forgiveness budded, not with the fanfare of epiphany, but with pain gathering its things, packing up, and slipping away unannounced in the middle of the night." (from The Kite Runner by Khaled Hosseini)

I posted that quote 10 days before the "I Hurt" post. And I'm not sure what to make of any of it which is why I'm writing about it. The only thing I can come up with is that the "I Hurt" post is very much like a gravestone marker.

I remember being at my Granny's graveside service. Not far from the place where we were burying her was the marker and grave of a very young cousin of mine who'd been killed in a truck accident about 6 months before. His mom, one of my aunts, had been holding things together just fine for the entire time. But eventually, some strange force seemed to pull her away and she walked over to her son's marker. As she was just close enough to be able to read his name, she burst into huge, gasping sobs and fell to her knees at that site. She is a woman full of faith and confident in the knowledge that she will see her son again in heaven. Yet, she will never fully overcome the sense of loss she suffered when she is faced directly with the marker of his death. And why should she? It hurts.

I don't for a moment presume to compare this situation in terms of the depth of pain suffered. I refuse to entertain the thought of losing one of my boys. And yet, it must be similar in the way the physical reaction can sweep over you in an instant. We are strange and wonderful creatures indeed in that we are set up to respond in this way to certain life-altering events.

I don't have a catchy ending or moral to tell for the end of this post. I am sort of interested to know if any of you have ever experienced anything similar to this.

love and grace,
pam

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The De-Tragification of Me

2008-08-03T19:53:00.003-05:00

I went to work in my room at school today. It's grrreeat to be able to simply walk across the street to do this. As I left, Drew was on the computer AND the phone simultaneously. He and Hayden were playing Club Penguin and having a great time. It almost felt like Hayden was here because Drew had him on speakerphone.

I got to school and started unpacking a box full of mementos. I came across a little stack of papers that I've saved over the years - notes that I'd find on my desk from the boys. Zachary (now 17 and about to start his senior year of high school) was the most prolific of the note writers. Their note writing would happen during the school day when one of them would come down to my classroom "needing" something. Judging from my stack of notes, they frequented my classroom quite a bit while I was away at conference, lunch, or recess.

I look back so fondly on those days. I'd come back in with my class full kids, and sitting on top of my computer keyboard (smart boys know where to put a note so that mom will actually FIND it) would be some torn scrap from a notepad, or a post-it, or sometimes a whole sheet of notebook paper. There'd be things like; "my retainer came out, i have it, come and get it.", "i need lunch money.", "do you have my library book? i all ready looked in the car.", "can you call ryan's mom? he wants to come over.", or "can i have money for the book fair? i'll do chores."

My boys were always blessed with teachers who were fond of them. Thank the LORD. :) Zachary's fourth grade teacher had known him since birth and was so thankful that Zach had a mom, and at school no less, that it seems he had his own private hall pass to use at will.

Many of the notes have little smileys or hearts drawn on them, and they ALL start with the word "Mom". Very few are missing the word "love" either written out, abbreviated, or even included as an entire "i love you" sentence.

As I looked through those notes of handwritten "i love yous" with hearts and smiles from all FOUR boys, I felt really stupid and ungrateful for having complained of the tragic nature of my life lately.

My life is not tragic. It is rich and full and meaningful. Sure, it's been tough, and I've taken lots of risks. But I've gained the MOST important things of all and the only things that last. Relationship. Love. Family.

I have these downward dips occasionally. I guess we all do. I get to thinking that I'll never find true love and devotion. And yet, I have it already. No, it's not there in the form of romance or commitment from a man, but love is love. It's come at great cost to me personally and its worth and value is immeasurable. And if I had it all to do over again, I wouldn't change a thing.

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Me Me Me and The Tragic Motif

2008-07-31T10:07:00.003-05:00

UPDATE: I've added a helpful link to a personality test at the end of this post.

Yes...it's Willful Grace, where you get all Pam, all the time.

Frankly, I'm ready for school to start just so I can stop obsessing over myself. My current train of obsession is puffing down the Myers-Briggs railroad. I have a love/hate relationship with Myers-Briggs profiling. Here's the part I love:

(i'm INFP, by the way)

INFP's may demonstrate a cool reserve toward others, but they are anything but distant. They have a capacity for caring which is not always found in other types. They care deeply - indeed, passionately - about a few special persons or a cause. On word that captures this type is idealistic. At times, this characteristic leaves them feeling isolated, especially since INFPs are found in only 1 percent of the general population. INFPs have a profound sense of honor derived from internal values. The INFP is the Prince or Princess of mythology, the King's Champion, Defender of the Faith, and guardian of the castle. Joan of Arc is the female prototype of an INFP. They are willing to make unusual sacrifices for someone or something believed in.

ok....that all sounds pretty cool.....and THEN....there's this:

INFPs seek unity in their lives, unity of body and mind, emotions and intellect. They often have a subtle tragic motif running through their lives, but others seldom detect this inner minor key. Their deep commitment to the positive and the good causes them to be alert to the negative and the evil, which can take the form of a fascination with the profane. They may live a paradox, drawn toward purity and unity but looking over the shoulder toward the sullied and desecrated. When INFPs believe that they have yielded to an impure temptation, they may be given to acts of self-sacrifice in atonement.

That part pretty much sucks. I want a new motif. The subtle tragic one has been much less than subtle lately. Well....actually, it's been about a decade of tragic motif for me and I'd like to trade this motif in for a new one.

So, I'm thinking about this and wondering "WHY does my personality bring about a tragic motif?" and then I realize that the tragic motif comes from being over-analytical about EVERYthing.

I'm screwed.

If you know your Myers-Briggs profile share it with me. I'm interested.

love and grace,
pam

P.S. Tdub is an ENFP which makes him alot like me only less tragic and more peoplish.

Here's a link to a free YES/NO Myers-Briggs.
I took it to see if I still came out INFP, and I did.

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Weird, Weird Dream

2008-07-28T08:33:00.004-05:00

I've never been one to catalogue my dreams, although I do often get ideas for things in my dreams. But, I know people who keep a journal by their bed and immediately record their dreams upon waking. I'm not one of those.

However, I'm going to make an exception and tell you about last night's dream because it was so freaky and "telling" as to my basic thought patterns in general. I think. Maybe. Who knows?

As it turns out, according to this dream of mine, the apostle Paul wrote a great deal more than just a few verses addressing folks with sexual identity issues. There was an entire book (in the Bible, mind you...unfortunately, I never caught the name of it) dedicated to a lengthy set of "experiments" conducted on intersexed people back in the day.

The odd thing about that word intersexed is that I didn't even know that was a "real" word until I looked it up this morning. Obviously, I've heard it somewhere in my goings-about here on the internet, but I had to look it up this morning to find out what it meant. Don't click on that link if you are easily offended by the use of body part words.

So, in this dream of mine I'm back at church in Granbury and lo' and behold Tdub shows up there on the same day as me. Go figure. Furthermore, guess what book of the Bible we're studying on this particular Sundee mornin'? Yep. It's Paul-Does-Intersex day at the good ole Granbury CoC. Amazing.

The really weird thing about this Bible passage is that it's complete with drawings, diagrams and details about all these tests and experiments that Paul conducted on these intersexed people. As I reflect on it, I realize that Paul was actually none other than my good friend Dr. T. Imagine that! (I know he'll get a kick out of this.) Don't ask me how, but in this dream there's electricity and wires and stuff detailed in all the data that had been canonized after being collected and recorded by "Paul".

Our Bible class teacher is one of the ministers at the church; one whose daughter pops in now and again here at my blog. (crypto shout-out to miss A!) The action begins as I'm in the class, listening intently and, as is typical, asking lots of questions and making comments, when in pops a very outspoken (meaning loud and rather obnoxious) lady who is ranting on and on about the fact that Tdub is out there right this minute eating DONUTS and drinking JUICE (it was clearly a dream, he never drank the juice or ate the donuts even though he did stand out there and visit all through Bible class which annoyed me greatly and still does even in this DREAM....TDUB!! hmmmph!) It's definitely "post-divorce" in the dream so I'm totally teasing about being annoyed. It's no longer any of my business if Tdub wants to stand outside class and visit while I, on the other hand, make every effort to "hear the word".

OK...back to the dream. The lady pops in ranting about Tdub and going on and on about how Exodus has proven that homosexuals can change and that God has made it very clear that all of them are an abomination. She says all this in a really twangy southern Texas accent which does nothing for her credibility. I start crying and defending Tdub and talking about how surely there's some grace involved here because at least Paul went to all this trouble of trying to figure things out and even though all of his studies were inconclusive the very fact that he studied all of it and wrote it in the BIBLE should mean that we need to be at least nice to homosexuals....right??? Pretty please??? Tdub is just standing there shaking his head and looking at me and saying, "See, I told you this is what would happen." And I'm all like, "No, wait, don't leave. Just give them a chance, they'll be nice...I just know it."

Then I feel something warm and wet and wake up to Emma licking me in the face.

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...and another thing

2008-07-25T09:19:00.003-05:00

Another thing that really bums me out about this whole online dating thing and I guess dating in general, is the whole "getting to know each other" phase. I mean, it CAN be really great and I did have a great experience with that one guy. But honestly, at this point I'm so tempted to just say "Here's a link. Go spend all night reading this blog and call me in the morning if you're still interested." It's the introvert in me.

And one MORE thing. I'm amazed at the folks who DON'T Google. I'm serious. The FIRST thing I do when I get a person's name is drop out of whatever conversation or email we're in and head STRAIGHT for Google. I guess I'm the only one who does that??? For me, the day Google came online is like the 8th day of creation. God woke up from his rest and said, "oh, and one more thing....Google."

Another teensy tiny problem I have is the right-brained random side (which is more like a side and three-quarters in me) that forgets to whom she's said what. This is why, up to this point, I've determined to only "date" or communicate with one person at a time. Anyone who knows me very well at all knows that I'm not the greatest at multi-tasking. In fact, I tend to hyper-focus on one thing at a time to the exclusion of all else. Which is NOT conducive at all to dating.

I've got this friend who is doing the online dating thing as well. That girl amazes me. She sees 2 or 3 guys at once all the time. She told me about meeting one guy's family over a dinner and then leaving there and going out with the other guy. I'd not be able to do that for one simple reason. I talk too much. I can't imagine not having at least ONE good story from the family dinner since family dinners are usually wrought with good stories. Here's one of my favorite fictional family dinner stories. That particular dinner only got better. When those sorts of things happen, and I tend to attract those sorts of things, I'm talking about it with the very next person I see.

Have a great weekend blog and internet friends! I'll try and make some good stories to tell.

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The Online Dating Game

2008-07-23T10:40:00.004-05:00

I'm beginning to sense a theme here. Oh well.

Ok...I promised when I started this to blog about some of the ridiculous things one can see when venturing into the world of online dating. There's actually a huge part of me that's sort of relieved that I suck at online dating. I mean....the whole thing is pretty cheesy. And yet. I'm trying it. *sigh*

So. Let me give you a sense of the online dating experience from my viewpoint.

#1 I attract cowboy types. UGH. Either that, or cowboys types are attracted to anything with reasonably coiffed eyebrows and a vague promise that there might be boobs involved. I mean, I state in my profile that I pretty much despise country music and consider "boot scootin" to be the downfall of our society. (Believe me it's not the gays, it's boot-scootin that will be our ruination.) I guess cowboy types don't read much....ya think?

#2 Old men are gross. Seriously. And you know, I think that's all I'm gonna say about that.

#3 Insert motorcycle dudes with tatoos into every place in #1 that says cowboy types or boot-scootin'.

#4 The number of men who think a confederate flag makes a great backdrop for a photo disturbs me greatly.

#5 Most of the guys who talk about being Christian in their profile, also list "The Left Behind Series" as the most compelling thing they've read lately. Many of them even go into detail about how they are so glad that they now have such a great idea of what the book of Revelations is all about and what to expect at the end of the world. OH. MY. GOSH. Words escape me at this point to describe how incredibly ignorant I find this to be. I'm so judgemental sometimes. I admit it. It's FICTION, people, and it's not even barely good writing! They may as well list that they learned all about Jesus from reading "The DaVinci Code".

#6 Just after "The Left Behind Series" in popular book reading for men, we have Joel Osteen's "Your Best Life Now". aaaaaaaauuuuuuuugggghhhhh!

#7 There are certain recurring statements and phrases in profiles. "no game-playing", "no head games", "looking for serious relationship", and one even said "don't piss on my foot and tell me it's raining" HUH??? I understand the sentiment contained in these statements, but come on. Just because everyone you're interested in doesn't "click" with you, it doesn't mean people are playing games. And, I do know that some people do "play games" on dating sites, but it seems really ineffective to me to try and deter that behavior by stating those sorts of disclaimers. Maybe it's just me, but it seems that you've got to expect a certain amount of disappointment and frustration when you get involved in something as open-ended as online dating. It reminds me of teachers who spend countless hours complaining about poorly behaved children. Everyone's gotta do some venting, but HELLO, you're a TEACHER. That's kinda part of it.

The bottom line is that I'd much rather bump into that perfect guy at Barnes & Noble. We'd spill latte all over each other as we tumbled to the floor surrounded by the armfuls of books we're carrying on subjects like literature, theology, and history. Oh. And world travel. Let's not leave out the world travel. And possibly a little technology. I love technology. (can you hear Kip from Napoleon Dynamite right now?)

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Dating (again)

2008-07-21T15:49:00.003-05:00

Ok. I suck at this dating thing. Really. My problem is my transparency. I think. Who the heck really knows?

I think I'm overwhelming to the sort of man to which I'm attracted.

Also, I have a problem with self-control. I admit it. Just take that for whatever you want to take it as....it can't be much worse than my reality.

I also think I'm a bit weird. And so, that means that I don't match with a lot of "normal" people.

You are probably wondering....what happened???? I thought you'd met this great guy and you were sure he was someone with whom you wanted to have a serious relationship? Yeah...I did....and he was. But, as fate would have it....he's not sure about things which basically means a big fat NO in datespeak. Datespeak, you see....is like this.......anything less than "i'm crazy about you" means "oh my god, get away from me you loser" Well, maybe not quite THAT....but....it's better to be on the safe side in these situations so you don't end up looking more like a complete idiot than you already do after you've made a total idiot of yourself.

It's weird, though. I'm not like all completely devastated or anything. I mean, I know what I felt...and I know there was a connection....and it IS mostly just puzzling just like I thought it would be in the beginning if it didn't work out. I'm hoping that we'll remain friends because I really did like his dogs.

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Heartache and Joy

2008-07-16T10:43:00.003-05:00

Hayden (tdub's youngest) spent about 10 days with Drew and me in Sulphur, and I took him back - meeting halfway - yesterday. The night before Hayden's departure he and Drew pulled an all-nighter. One final, brotherly "last hurrah" before parting ways for another stretch of months. I'm sure they completed at least one task that I likely won't hear about until they're in their twenties. They are just now starting to reveal some of the incidents that occurred when we were all together in the crooked old house. One of those stories involves a police dog who peed on one of them as they hid behind a tree. Quite the "near miss" wouldn't you say?

Hayden slept soundly all the way to the meeting point and we hugged good-bye without much fanfare. It's always bittersweet to say goodbye. The heartache came later after I arrived back home. Hayden sent me a text saying, "I miss you being my mom all the time." And my heart just broke in two. Again. And yet, there's a huge amount of joy contained in that message. The part that says "you being my mom" fills me with such gladness.

This is the part of the whole ordeal that could cause me to become angry and bitter if I'd let it. I've been asked before, "when are you going to get mad about all this?" And while I admit to bouts of anger now and then,(a few select friends have seen flashes of it) I simply choose not to live in that place. It's not productive. The thing is this; wallowing in anger and becoming bitter at Todd for breaking up our family and ultimately leaving Hayden at a point where he ends up sending that heartbreaking message he sent yesterday, doesn't do anyone any good. The only thing there is time to do is to get back up, brush myself off, and get on with loving those who are dear to me. I believe with all that's in me that the very best thing I can do for Zach and Hayden is to continue to love and honor their dad as my friend. This honors THEM. It may not be something that they can verbalize at this point, but it's a very real and integral piece of the commitment I made to them when I married their dad in the first place.

And so, I'm going to focus on the joy in Hayden's message. Sure, it hurts. It hurts like heck, actually. But I can turn that hurt on it's head, very much the way Christ did when he gave his life for me, and experience pure joy. Heartache and joy. 'Tis the stuff of life.

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Relationship

2008-07-13T10:38:00.003-05:00

Scary. Scary. Scary.

Yes, it's happened. I've met someone who meets all my criteria for serious relationship. I mean, I have not had ONE even TINY moment when I've thought....weeeellll....oookkkaaaayyy...i can get past that one little thing. I don't have any of that "I can deal with that" sort of exception. It's pretty crazy.

At the end of an email I'd written to him detailing my marriage history (a necessary part of truly getting to know one another) I wrote this:

"From the first marriage I learned that being friends is absolutely the bedrock of marriage. If you don't value and honor that person as your very closest friend in all the world...you're sorta sunk before you ever get started.

From the second I learned that even being best friends is not enough. There's some sort of wiring in your brain that clicks and connects with the wiring in the other person's brain that makes you desire them in ways that only being married can ultimately fulfill. There's got to be a physical connection as well as an emotional and intellectual one."

So, in the middle of Tdub's blog drama and Kurt's mom dying and Hayden being here for the week (had i mentioned that?)...I've had this super, outrageous, awesome, and incredibly scary beginning of a relationship thing going on. I'm fully aware of the fact that I could end up getting hurt. But, I'm not so sure that's the scariest part of the whole thing. I think the scariest part, for me, would be how puzzling it could be if things ultimately don't work out for us. Because, I'm not kidding, this guy is incredibly well-suited for my personality and temperament. And, that brain wiring click thing that makes you attractive to each other is there as well.

He lives in the OKC metroplex so the distance will help a great deal with the whole "diving in and screwing everything up by taking things way too fast" factor.

Yesterday, I took the boys to see "Get Smart" and as we were making our way to the correct theatre Drew said, "we're going to see a movie with mom's boyfriend in it" and Hayden immediately followed, "i KNOW, that's just what I was thinking! he's just like him."

So. There ya go.

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Prayers for Kurt

2008-07-11T08:58:00.002-05:00

Please pray for Kurt. He has experienced a sudden and tragic loss. I'm not sure how much detail he'd want to divulge so I'll leave it at that. He is traveling across country to deal with it. So, prayers are needed. If you are Catholic, I'd ask that you light a candle for him. That's what he always does for me when I need special prayers.

love and grace,
pam

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Apology

2008-07-10T07:43:00.003-05:00

A bit of a drama has unfolded over at Tdub's blog. That actually makes it sound a lot easier than it is. It feels more like a bunch of us have this massive wad of stewing gunk in our stomach and it's finally starting to belch it's way forth. Sorry for the graphics, but that's how it feels.

And I, in my "gracefulness" have made an idiot of myself by calling out a brother in public for an offense that should have been dealt with privately if I were going to deal with it at all. In which case, the brother is exactly right, "a blog is not a good place to heal."

So, JB, I'm sorry. And I don't mean just a little bit. I mean that I'm crying as I think about it and I feel sick inside for not extending to you at least the same length of grace that's so graciously been extended to me. I screwed up. Big time. I'm sorry.

And maybe I don't really think it SHOULD take longer for the rest of you to heal than it has for me, but you know what, it's not my place to lawd over you guys, "hey, look at me, I'm all cool with Todd...what the heck is wrong with you people?" That's just silly and wrong. The root of the issue I have with all of it comes down to the boys. One of the reasons I had to "get with the program" so to speak was for them. I love Zach and Hayden and I love their dad if for no other reason than because I love them. And I was just hoping that a few more than what have seemed to have done that could belly up that wad of gunk in their stomach and take one for those boys the way I have. But you know what....it's okay. It is.

This is all very tough for ALL of us. And yeah...it's particularly difficult for me to see other people JUST NOW beginning to deal with this stuff and only because Todd is becoming public with his story. And I hope and pray that people aren't just being defensive when they go over there and read his stuff....thinking he's going to start bashing the church that picked him up from the BASEMENT of life many times over during the course of just the years I was married to him.

One of our young friends, a different Ashley than the one involved in the little blog drama, suggested to me privately that it may have been better if Todd had remained anonymous until he sort of had his "blog legs". And when I first read that suggestion I was like "what? That only reaffirms the very issues he's having right now. He shouldn't HAVE to be anonymous, he should tell his story and they should just be able to finally LISTEN to what the guy has to say." And then I realized, about the same time I realized what a jerk I'd been to JB, DUH, PAM, you were anonymous for a long time and didn't even tell Todd about your blog at all until you'd written enough copy to give him a picture of what you were all about with the thing. I was really worried that he'd think I was going to write a "let's b*tch, moan, and whine" sort of blog about being married to an SSA struggler. So, again, I'm wrong because I'm listening with something other than my ears of grace. I'm listening with those ears that tend to form knee-jerk reactions to things and that also tend to get me into all sorts of trouble where I end up needing to make public apologies.

At this point, I believe Todd (weird to write his actual name here) should move forward with the blog as is. He's probably going to say some things that will make "the church" cringe, but it's not because he's set up some sort of vendetta over there. Not at all. The guy is just trying to work through this stuff. Just like I did.

And....not only do I apologize to JB, I promise from here on out not to go over there like some rabid mama bear and lay into any of you who decide to comment. I promise. After all, it is HIS blog and not my place to really get into it.

And Todd. I'm so proud of you for coming "out" again. I promise you'll be better for it. Because even though a blog really may not be the absolute best place to heal....it's what we've got. And I'm proud of you for taking the talents God has given you and using them to help yourself and others. Blog on, brother.

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My funeral

2008-07-08T08:39:00.002-05:00

First of all, I want to make it clear this is kurt_t, occasional guest blogger, not Pam (AKA "Grace"). I know how easy it is to get confused about that. Just remember kurt_t is the gay quasi-Catholic cat person. Pam is the gay-friendly crypto-Orthodox dog person.

Now, about my funeral. First of all, I am from San Francisco, and in San Francisco, they are very particular about the disposition of one's earthly remains. Nearly all the City's dead people, including such luminaries as Emperor Norton I, were dug up and moved to south to Colma in the 1930s due to the scarcity of land. (San Francisco, bordered on 3 sides by water, is only 7 miles square.)

Now one thing I love about the Catholic Church is you're allowed to choose your own readings and music for your funeral mass. For my Old Testament reading, I've decided on the Prayer of Jonah. That's right after Jonah's been swallowed by Troutzilla, and he's trying to bargain his way out of it. That is so much my spiritual life right there. It always reminds me of the time I went on the death-defying Giant Dipper roller coaster in Santa Cruz which I'd promised my Mom I don't know how many times I would never do. And I thought for sure I was gonna die. I kept saying "Just get me through this one, Lord. I'll go start an orphanage in Calcutta!"

And then after my funeral I want my friends to sneak out to Sloat Boulevard and the Great Highway in the middle of the night and scatter my ashes under the Doggie Diner head.

Great plan, right? People will always know where to find my final resting place. I mean, you can see the Doggie Diner head from blocks away. And there's always parking out there.

Well, then I'm at Mass last Saturday night, and they have these brochures on a table by the door, and I pick one up as I'm leaving Mass, and it's a brochure from Catholic Cemeteries of America, and it's all about how you're not allowed to scatter your ashes. Or even keep them in your house! You have to deliver them to nearest Catholic Cemetery so they can be reverently stowed away.

I can't win for losing here!

So now I'm thinking if I can't be scattered I at least want a Doggie Diner head on my tombstone. I'm gonna call Holy Cross in Colma and ask them what's their height limit.
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Dating

2008-07-01T09:23:00.003-05:00

I've joined a dating site. Crazy, I know. But where in the heck are you supposed to meet available men when you live in Sulphur??? For that matter, even if I lived in OKC (the biggest city here which is still smaller than the 4th largest city in Texas)....even if I lived in freakin' DALLAS....where am I gonna meet available men? A bar? A mega-church? I don't think so. Those places appeal to me in about equal amounts although at least at the bar you can get a pina colada.

I started this post because I was on that site and thinking about the fact that I'm twice-divorced. And honestly, I think I should get a "by" on the 2nd one. I mean, really, does the 2nd one have to count? Come on, being married to Tdub was MORE than a marriage and so much more than a typical divorce. It was like a super-intense church camp on steroids sort of thing. Honestly. Think about it, because I am. *wink* I came out of it better, stronger, more full of grace, more focused on being Christ-like, and more prepared to face the next challenges life has to offer. I'm being completely serious and even though Tdub will probably have to pause before he can accept this as a compliment, I'm being complimentary of the entire thing. The fact that I feel more love for Tdub in more healthy ways than ever before is certainly a testament to the fact that it was ANYTHING but typical. When does THAT happen in a marriage/divorce situation? And so quickly?

Truly, my first marraige and divorce was SO typical. We married before we were "grown up" and as we grew up, we turned into people that were crazy to have ever married in the first place. We had kids because it seemed like that might help at the time (sorry...that's just what people DO...and we did it like so many others do it). Instead of submitting to the Lordship of Jesus and allowing him to heal our friendship, thus keeping our marriage together, we each behaved in ways that made things worse. The biggest difference between the two of us was that he looked like a jerk and I still looked like a poor, pitiful, put-upon wife. But, we were BOTH at fault for the fact that it ended and that our boys endured the pain and heartache of a broken home. This is the typical story of divorce. This one counts against me.

The thing with Tdub. Well. I have absolutley no regrets about it and, tough as it was, I'd do it all again, if for no other reason that the fact that I'd never have the relationship I have with Zach and Hayden otherwise. I love those boys. I love being their mom.

The point of all this rambling? I forget. Oh yeah. I'm on that dating site and it doesn't seem fair that I get "dinged" with two divorces. *sigh*

Later, I may gather up some of the more "interesting" (by that i mean hilarious in a way that makes you wonder what in the HECK they were thinking) profile entries and post them for your entertainment. If you're really bored and have an extra 20 bucks....some of the reading at these dating sites is pretty priceless. Or, you can just keep reading my blog and I'll show you the really good stuff. *heehee*

love and grace,
pam

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New Blog by a 40 yr. old Friend of Mine

2008-06-26T22:21:00.002-05:00

Do I not get a teensy weensy bit of revenge for not getting to plan and/or be around for Tdub's 40th birthday last month???

INTRODUCING....

T-dub's Blog

Enjoy.

(i'd say something about him being my blog baby...but then that could get all creepy cause then i'd be his "mom" and his "ex-wife" and then we'd have to make up one of those stories like the one about the dr. who couldn't treat the boy because "it's my son" and then everyone can't figure it out because the dr. was a woman. *yes, i've completely lost my mind* just go read tdub's new blog.)

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Question

2008-06-24T09:46:00.002-05:00

If Tdub wrote a blog would you read it? Could you read it and respond to him with the same sort of grace and compassion with which I respond to him? I know you could, because almost everyone here has done that with me over these years.

I honestly don't hold any bitterness in my heart for Tdub. I love him as a brother. If anything, I have a stronger compassion for him than for lots of other "sinners" because I had a front row seat to the turmoil that raged in his heart and mind. When I call him a "sinner" I'm speaking specifically about the sin of abandoning me. Yep, I believe that was a sin. But, guess what? I've forgiven him and so has God. He is released to go on with his life with my love and best wishes. Real forgiveness means I don't wish him any harm and, if possible, I will even do things to help him. Tdub repented of that sin. Does repentance mean that he has to get back in reparative therapy to try and be straight, or take a vow of celibacy? Nope. His repentance for abandoning me has really nothing to do with his sexuality and everything to do with his relationship with me and his commitment to not repeating that particular offense.

Let's say I did believe, full on.....that under no circumstances whatsoever should Tdub ever engage in any sort of sexual relations with another man? What then? How would I treat him then? I'll tell you, I'd treat him the same way I treat him now. As a brother. That's what Christ calls me to do. That's what he did. He didn't follow those folks around that he healed to make sure they did everything just right from then on. I'll bet some of those people committed more sin.....ya think???

I'm trying to get Tdub to start writing a blog. Can you tell? He needs to work through so many issues and blogging is such a great outlet for that. I consider it an act of obedience and God has honored it and used it to bring me a great deal of compassion, insight, friendship, and self-discipline. I've got reams of stuff I've not written about yet, so I don't imagine I'll be stopping anytime soon.

If you have the time, leave a comment of encouragement for Tdub.

love and grace,
pam

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Counting My Blessings

2008-06-17T11:09:00.009-05:00

It's a beautiful rainy day here which caused me to sleep in until almost 10:30! I'm not good at sleeping past 7:30 or 8:00 unless the light from the outside fools my body into thinking it's still very early. It's such a blessing to have these weeks off in the summer so that I can arrange a move like this and have these days to organize and set up. Times like this make me ashamed at the amount of internal whining I allow myself.

I'm freakin' blessed!

Here are a few pictures for your viewing enjoyment.
These first two are looking out the front door onto our massive and wonderful front porch. The school is just across the street! I imagine there'll be days on end during the school year that I don't bother using my car at all because I'm such a "homebody".

Next, a few different views of the living room. I absolutely LOVE decorating. It's the artist part of me wanting to set everything up like some sort of "still life" portrait. In fact, if any of you want help in that area, I'll work for airfare and food. :) You think I'm kidding???

And here's little "golden boy", Drew, still lazing about on Mom's bed. I'm posting this while banking on the fact that checking my blog is something he does very very rarely. This is the little arrangement I made with my high chair seat, my baby dress, a shoe, a mitten, my pink baby sweater, a favorite babydoll, and "Blue", a sort of pillow/dog who used to talk when I pulled the string at the back of his bottom.

Thanks for enduring my self-absorbed ramblings. For me, just knowing that even a few folks 0ut there give a darn about my life and are willing to lend an ear to what I have to say is incredible to me. I am TRULY BLESSED!

much love and grace,
pam

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Addicted to Stuff

2008-06-10T11:09:00.003-05:00

Moving for the 3rd time in the span of 2 years has enlightened me to a very sad truth. I'm addicted to STUFF. I hate stuff, and I love stuff. I have way too much of it, which I hate, yet I want to hold on to it because I "love" it.

Why do I save things like the boys' big Duplo blocks? (duplos are the giant versions of legos that toddlers play with) I'll tell you why. Because I intend to have grandchildren play with those blocks and I'll take pictures of them and put them in frames next to pictures of their dad playing with those same blocks. I'm insane like that. I also enjoy playing with Duplo blocks a great deal myself...which is probably at the heart of the entire matter. Sadly.

Why do I keep a box full of the extra papers and worksheets that didn't make it into the already bulging scrapbooks I made for the boys for each of their school years? I don't know. Maybe I think that one of them will invent the pill that cures cancer and I'll be in charge of setting up a museum chronicling each detail of their life including all the hours they spent being bored in a classroom doing mindless worksheets. I mostly saved the ones that have cute little scribbles or doodles on them since this stuff somehow gives me a glance into the inner-workings of their little minds. What I'm saying is, I actually DID throw a ton of things away. But I have these. And I want to keep them. Why?

Why do I save so many books? I'm going to be honest here...and this is a testament to the fact that as much as I think I trust in God, I simply do not fully trust. I actually think that maybe at some point, like when I'm dead, my boys might find some of those books I had that were particularly meaningful to me and read them. They might be inspired or touched in such a way that they will live their lives with more purpose or be more able to weather the storms of their lives. I should just pass those books on or get rid of them and allow God to take care of my boys the way He is now. But...what if God is the one inspiring me to save them so that my boys will one day read them? See how nuts I am?

Listen to this one. I've got this little wooden curio type thing that I bought when Daniel was a baby. It's little wooden blocks that spell out Daniel, one letter on each block, and then there's a little wooden Bible character (Daniel) and a little wooden lion that goes with it. In all the divorcing, moving, blah blah blah - the N from the set of blocks is missing. So, it can only spell Daiel. BUT....if you position the little lion just right he sort of takes the place of the N and it still looks like it says Daniel. And I have this thing in a box and I can't get rid of it. I hate it and I love it.

If the first step is admitting you have a problem...then...here I am. Step 1.

What next?

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Status of the Quo

2008-06-05T09:33:00.003-05:00

It's officially summer for me. Yippee!

I'm getting ready to move across town in my attempts to reorganize my life so that I have enough money to buy things like food and gasoline after paying for things like shelter, transportation, communication devices, and insurance to protect all of the former. Basically, the way it's worked in my current arrangement is that my salary was just enough to provide those things, but the downside was that I had to sit perfectly still inside my shelter for the entire month and eat saltine crackers. That was sort of depressing.

I feel compelled at this point to add a huge "thank-you" to some of you very kind readers who found something to purchase from my Etsy Shop even though I know you really don't need any of the stuff I make. But, I know you found something to buy just because you care so much. Furthermore, I want you to know that I'm saving the money in the PayPal account I have set up there for either an unforeseen "emergency" of some sort or to use at Christmas next year for the boys. I literally break down and cry every time someone buys something I've made. I'm not sure what's up with that, but that's what happens.

So, in reorganizing my life and finances, I'm moving across town. Not to worry, because in Sulphur, across town is a whopping 4 blocks. I'll be sharing expenses there with a teacher friend. She, like me, was new to the area last year which is nice because those of us who didn't rise up from the dirt of Sulphur (even though my family technically did) have to stick together around here. Remember last fall when I went on and on about how quaint and wonderful it was to live in a small community blah-de-blah? Yeah. Well. The downside to that arrangement is that half the town knows what you bought at the grocery store before you're done unloading the bags at home. That being the case, certain items (which fortunately aren't things I need or purchase) become outrageously expensive when you tack on the 30 mile trip to the next town to purchase them. These gas prices. *geez*

Along with the shared rent and expenses, my dad took me to his credit union - the one he uses, not a credit union that he actually "owns" - and helped me get my car refinanced. He's also going to be adding me to his cell phone service so I'll finally have an OK number and NO phone bill. If you're in my address book I'll send a message when that changes. All of these things will pare down my living expenses by about $400 a month. I'll be able to buy butter to smear on my saltines! Just kidding. It will be great - super - awesome.

I'll post pictures of the new digs soon. It's a 1940s craftsman style home (if i'm paying attention to HGTV properly, that is), and it's been completely remodeled. Very cool. It's also DIRECTLY across the street from our school. By that I mean that I can open the door of the school and see the house, or vice versa. Or, for fun, we could sit on our front porch during recess and covertly throw rocks at students we don't like. Ha. Ha. That's crazy. We love ALL the students. We'd never ever want to throw rocks at ANY of them. ;) I suspect we'll become the receiver of a few childhood "pranks" like toilet-papering or egg-throwing because of this move. Let's face it, even 6th graders who LOVE their teachers are still 6th graders.

I've got a TON of stuff to accomplish before the move next weekend. Which is why I've spent the better part of the morning blogging and catching up on blogs. Nothing seems to motivate me more to write than having 14 zillion more important things to do.

Keep in touch!
love and grace,
pam

p.s. I sat down to write something titled "Culture Warriors" and the above popped out instead. Go figure. Guess I'll give that piece a go after the big move. ;)

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Gay Christians

2008-05-28T20:58:00.000-05:00

I remember a time when I'd hear the term gay Christian and sort of bristle a bit. Those words sounded oxymoronic to me based on everything I'd been taught. Then, life started happening and I began to frame the things I'd been taught against the reality of what's going on around me.
It's important to me for my belief, attitude, and action to "jive". Otherwise, I feel like a little boat with no rudder, moving around in circles.

When I say I believe there are gay Christians, I'm saying that I have brothers and sisters in God's kingdom who are gay. They pray with me, fellowship with me, and if the opportunity presented itself, I'd share bread and the fruit of the vine at the table with them in the name of Christ.

In addition to all this, I'll assert that I don't believe God ever EVER changes His mind about what sin is. I believe without a doubt that the same things that are sin now have always been sin. So, it's either always been possible to be a divorced and remarried (even *shudder* 3 times) Christian or it's never been possible at all. I believe it works the same with being gay.

In my thinking, it comes down to intent. I believe there's a TON of stuff going on in our world today that is contrary to God's original intent. The biggest change in my belief about being gay and being Christian is that I used to believe gays couldn't be Christians because God didn't intend folks to be gay in his original design. Now, this same way of thinking is the very reason I've changed my mind. I still don't believe that God originally designed folks to be gay. I also believe that he designed us so that the most optimum way to live is with one other person of the opposite sex in a commitment that lasts till death.

But, because sin entered the world, God's original intent for everything....and I mean everything, got screwed up. Some gay folks take great offense at this notion because basically I'm saying that they are a product of sin. Well, I am saying that. But I'm also saying that I'm a product of sin. My sexuality, in and of itself, is laced through and through with sin. In the Old Testament days, it was vital for folks to follow long lists of dos and donts in order to remain holy in God's sight. And even then, they needed the blood sacrifice, another list of stuff to "do", to keep their place in God's kingdom. I think God went through all of those examples with the children of Israel for a reason. They are an example to us of how God works with folks within their sinful state of being. So many of those great heroes of the Bible struggled in ways that were contrary to God's original intent. In fact, there are very few of them who don't have some sort of "black eye" of sin. Yet they continued to turn their hearts toward God. God tolerated all sorts of things back then that would never make it with today's Christian Right.

I'm not saying that Christians who are gay don't have some changing to do, but in the end, they don't have any more changing to do than I have. I believe that they can turn their hearts toward God and He will take care of changing what needs to be changed. I believe that when Jesus said to lust after someone in your heart is the exact same thing as committing adultery, he meant it. Literally. This means that sin takes place in your heart, not in your actions. Yes, there are certain actions that are impossible to commit unless your heart is turned from God. However, there are situations when those actions could be committed with a heart that IS turned toward God.

I struggle with sin. Real LIVE sin. It weighs on me heavily at times. Right now, I'm struggling mightily with not coveting things that other folks have. When I see a family together or even hear my friends talking about what they did over the weekend with their husband or kids, I struggle a great deal with not coveting those things. The Holy Spirit has made me aware of this sin and I'd actually appreciate your prayers with me to overcome it. There is no difference between me struggling with this sort of sin than if I were struggling with sexual impurity. Absolutely none. If there is a difference, in fact, it is that the coveting of my neighbors' family life is actually something more real and dangerous to my life in God's kingdom than sexual impurity simply because of the possibility of its occurrence being so frequent. Fortunately, I don't have good-looking men bolting through my door trying to seduce me on a regular basis. In fact, that's never happened! haha!

I also don't have James Dobson decrying my existence, politicians comparing me to terrorists, or an entire industry dedicated to "saving" me from myself. It's just me with God, figuring this stuff out as I go along. Basically, I believe there are Christians who are gay because I'm a Christian. I figure if He'll let me in, there's gotta be a way for every one else.

love and grace,
pam

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Staying Put

2008-05-23T17:53:00.005-05:00

I've made a major decision based on some doors being opened that I believe are the right opportunities for me.

There's a Master's Degree program being offered to a class of 20 candidates from a few counties surrounding the one where I live. And.....it's FREE! I talked to my principal and he assured me that I can get into the program. This means a two-year commitment to stay put so that I can finish the program.

So....I'm staying. Stinky smell and all. I'm moving over to 6th grade to teach reading which will be a nice change since 6th grade is fully departmentalized. This means only one plan a day with modifications depending on each class. A nice perk for me since I'm sure to have tons of reading and writing to do for my own classes.

I have some other things in the works to live more economically. A fellow teacher and I (she's young and single...this past year was her 1st year to teach), are going to find a house and split expenses. I've also been building my little sewing business as the word continues to get out in this little town that I do that sort of thing.

I do appreciate all the prayers. Be assured that they've been answered and I'm at peace with the decision to stay here. It's actually quite exciting to have the opportunity to get the Master's Degree free of charge. What a blessing!

I've got some other things stewing around in my head to write about, and with the long summer days ahead I'm sure I'll crank out a few things to ponder soon.

love and grace,
pam

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Battered Skillet seeks Fitting Lid

2008-05-19T21:38:00.003-05:00

In my efforts to save money I've given up cable TV for the time being. It's sad, but not having television has amplified my loneliness. A friend of mine told me about TVLand online where I can watch entire episodes of Andy Griffith and The Beverly Hillbillies. Other than Lost, I mostly watched TV Land when I did have cable.

So, I'm sitting here sculpting little doggies, painting some other craft projects, and listening to the wisdom of Granny Clampitt. She spoke this nugget of wisdom in reply to Jed who was questioning the fact that she keeps a hope chest. According to Granny, "No skillet is so battered you can't find a lid for it."

I can't think of a more apt description for the way I've felt during the past year. A battered skillet. I guess there's a lid out there somewhere for a skillet like me. I liked being married. I liked having someone to figure out when/where/IF we'd be having dinner altogether or separately each day. I liked being accountable to another person, even in small ways like making the bed. Tdub always helped by fixed his side up and I fixed up mine and so the bed was made every day. I never make my bed anymore. It's just not the same when you're alone. I liked checking in with someone and them checking in with me. I liked having shared history. I liked fixing meals for someone and sometimes making them special in small ways. I liked coming home and talking about my students, sharing frustrations, joys, and sometimes things that are only funny between the two of us because of our shared history. Sure, there were lots of things I didn't like, lots of things I don't miss one bit. The things that battered my skillet, mostly.

But, according to Granny, there's hope.

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Motherless child

2008-05-14T08:22:00.003-05:00

Believe it or not, I have an M.A. in English Literature. I don't mean through the internet or anything like that. I actually had to go to classes for two years and take sixteen hours of comprehensive exams and everything.

And that's why it might appall you to know some of the things I haven't read. Moby Dick, for instance. Got through the first ten pages or so and just gave up. Paradise Lost? Why would anybody actually read that? There's a summary at the beginning of each chapter. That's all you need to pass the test.

But one thing that really bothered me that I never read was Uncle Tom's Cabin, Harriet Beecher Stowe's anti-slavery novel that's often credited with helping to ignite the American Civil War.

But guess what. I read it. A couple of weeks ago. I guess it's never too late.

And then earlier this week I was listening to Nina Simone's version of the old spiritual "Motherless Child," and I never really understood the significance of that expression "motherless child" before. To me it was just a figure of speech.

But it dawned on me as I was listening to the song that the motherless child was a very real part of the American slave experience. That's a theme that comes up in Cabin repeatedly, slave children sold off and permanently separated from their parents.

Now, not to change the subject, but here's something that has always puzzled me in the Gospels. Jesus says "I am the Way and the Life. No one comes to the Father except through Me."

I want to say "Wait a minute, Lord. You're going to need to find a higher-tech method to get that message across. Just telling a handful of people in ancient Palestine ain't gonna cut it."

You know what I mean? How many people since the time of Jesus have lived and died without ever hearing that message? That's got to be a problem for you, whether you're a Catholic or a Presbyterian or a "born again" evangelical. You've got all these people out there who have no way of working out their salvation.

And that's a theme in Cabin too. All these slaves who live and die without ever hearing the Gospel message.

But what that puzzling saying of Jesus' has always meant to me is we live in a world that is so corrupt, that the example of Jesus is the only way to overcome all that corruption. And when we live out that example, that is a kind of salvation. Not an individual salvation. Not you got your ticket punched, so you get to go to Heaven salvation, but a salvation that happens on a grander scale than that, a salvation for the whole world.

Your salvation is salvation for the whole world. For China, Burma, Afghanistan, Iraq, Sudan. For that motherless child who lived and died without ever hearing the gospel message. I think that's what Jesus meant.
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Found It

2008-05-09T19:43:00.003-05:00

I found my home as far as a school goes today. Now....if they'll just hire me. I was up in OKC this morning having the air-conditioner fixed in my car (thank the Lord I had sense enough to buy the big warranty), and I got a call to go and interview for an elementary art job. Since I was in town, they agreed to look over the fact that I was dressed in jeans and we set the interview up for the afternoon.

OH. My. Goodness. As I sat there talking to the group of teachers, the principal, and the assistant principal, I found myself fighting back tears several times. This is a low-income 56%black, 24%white, and 16%Hispanic populated preK-5 campus. I heard teachers and administrators speaking with passion about teaching kids. The principal (a calm and assertive black man) told me that he and the teachers had just finished a book study about middle class teachers teaching poor black kids. Most of the teachers at the school are white. He told me that he doesn't like to hear candidates haphazardly say "there's no difference". There is a difference and we need to acknowledge it and do what we need to do to educate kids in the middle of it. They've implemented a program of uniforms this year and the teachers participate as well, wearing various colored school t-shirts and different sorts of khaki pants or, I assume, skirts. The teachers talked about it taking an extra level of commitment to teach at this school because there were activities going on after school and on weekends that they participated in with the kids. Most of all, these teachers all looked and sounded happy to be a part of what was going on there. At one point, the principal used the word missionary to describe his teachers. He made it clear that he hires only the best and brightest and that his school is staffed with what he considers to be the finest group of teachers anywhere in the world.

Would it sound racist to say that I felt like I'd stepped into the middle of a living breathing Denzel Washington movie today? I hope not. Because I want to be cast in that movie. So much. I interviewed for the art position. I did my best to let them know that I'm cut from the same cloth as them and that I have the level of commitment to kids and learning that they're looking for. Prayers please. Thanks!

love and grace,
pam

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Turned Down

2008-05-06T07:17:00.002-05:00

Ok, I've officially been turned down for one job. By letter. I'm not a fan of the rejection by letter process. It seems so impersonal, particularly after these lengthy interviews where you sort of bare your soul as to what you believe and practice every day as a teacher. This one was for a middle school position. I had a feeling, even as I was talking to them, that they might be sitting there thinking "how in the heck would this person who is so idealistic and positive be able to handle a cynical middle school child?" I also really bombed the discipline question in that one. For some reason, I drew a complete blank as to what I actually "do" as far as establishing routines and procedures and then following through with hopefully a school-wide plan. It was the first interviewer that's actually asked that question. Makes sense for middle school. Next time, I'll have to be more prepared for that one. As I recall, I rambled on about establishing a relationship of trust with the kids....blah blah blah. All important stuff, but probably not what they were looking to hear. Routines, procedures, and follow-up are pretty key to middle school discipline and I didn't use ONE of those words.

I've been busying myself making costumes for elementary kids for an undersea music program being put on next week at our elementary. I've done an angel fish, a hammerhead shark, and my last one (as far as I know at this point) will be a swordfish. Making costumes is one of my favorite things to do because it involves so much creative problem-solving. The word has gotten out in town that I do sewing projects and I'm making a bit of extra money here and there with this sort of thing. I'm doing some alterations on a prom dress for my next project. Scary. Alot of these girls drive to Dallas to get their dresses which means some of them (likely the one I'll be altering) cost more than my entire wardrobe for the year. They have this promenade thing outside the front of the school where the girls are escorted down a long walkway while everyone takes pictures. Very small town and old school.

Please keep praying that I'll find a job in the City soon. All this applying/interviewing/waiting is not only expensive, it's emotionally draining.

love and grace,
pam
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My Philosophy of Education

2008-04-29T07:19:00.004-05:00

Interviewing again. I haven't actually been turned down for any jobs yet, which I guess is good. I almost feel like I'm in some sort of Olympic event, making the rounds among the judges and in the end, all of us will be parcelled out to our respective corners to grapple our way through another year of school. For some, the grappling will take on the look of a ballet or a beautifully performed opera. For others, it will look like a WWW smack-down. I think mine probably looks mostly like a ballet, except the prima donna's toe shoe is dangling from her left foot where, in her haste to be ready, she didn't get it secured just right. Nevertheless she twirls on with such vigor and grace that eventually, even the dangling shoe becomes part of the beauty of the piece; that is, for anyone with any sort of appreciation for ballet and a fondness for the ballerina it does. I guess to some folks, it still just looks like a crazy little girl in a tutu dancing around with her shoe coming off.

All this talking about and thinking about education is good. We used to do this all the time back in Granbury, ad infinitim, but I see more clearly now that such rethinking of your objectives and motives in teaching is valuable far more so than the alternative which is to keep doing the same thing every year just because we've always done it that way. I'm in a place now where this is the norm, and it's frustrating. The thing is - the education of our young people is a living breathing organism all its own. If we treat it like something static, we've lost the battle before we've even begun. Educators are the worst at BMWing (i'll clarify that in the comments if anyone needs to understand that acronym) about how messed up the parents are and how screwed up society is and how America has gone down the tubes. I admit to bouts of this sort of ranting myself. And while it's true that there are parents who are absolutely part of the problem not the solution as far as the education of their children, I can't change parents. I can only change what I'm doing. And I have to be honest and admit at times that what I'm doing needs to be changed.

There are certain aspects of education that do remain the same. Children have always been and will continue to be little human beings who, in given situations will react a given way. However, the landscape we teach them on has changed tremendously. This ever-changing landscape causes shifts in values that affect what we do in the classroom. And, I'm not talking at ALL about social issues like gay rights, abortion or sex-ed in the curriculum. I'm talking about things like cel phones, Ipods, video games, the Internet, fast food, and debit cards.

I got my first phone at the age of 16; it was connected with a cord to my room at home and I never knew who was calling until I picked it up and said hello. You practically had to have a court order to get any sort of "caller id" from the phone company. MTV played music videos and that was all. Sometimes it was just music with a picture of the album on screen. I believe that the world I grew up in was full of more mystery and suspense. Voyeuristic behaviors were either very rude or outright criminal, not the norm for conducting daily business or the basis of over half the television I watched.

I like this quote from Gandhi: "There are people in the world so hungry, that God cannot appear to them except in the form of bread.”

As an educator, it's my job to figure out what "bread" looks like to the kids I serve. I personally think it looks like someone taking the time to meet them where they are. The problem with some educators today is that they say they want to meet kids where they are, but they really mean that they want to meet kids where they expect them to be or where they "should" be according to the world as it was when they grew up. At the heart of the matter, what kids really need has never changed, but how we present them with what they need, so that they can accept it, has got to change.

Interviewing can be a pain, but it does cause me to stop and reflect about what I'm doing and why I do the things that I do. If I truly believe that all kids have worth and value, then I will treat them with dignity and respect. Even when they misbehave. I will honor them as human beings even when they don't deserve it. I will give and give even when I don't feel like it and even though there's no way I could ever be compensated enough for my troubles. It's what I want done for my own children as they find their way in the world. It's what I choose to keep doing for the children I teach.

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Craziness

2008-04-24T23:13:00.002-05:00

I've been working like crazy lately to dig my way out from under a big ditch financially. It's finally caught up with me....living here and making (not kidding) just barely more in salary than I made as a first year teacher EIGHTEEN YEARS AGO in Texas.

I've put a permanent link to my little shop in my sidebar. Check it out. I've sold one custom-made dog, a blue-heeler. If you go to the shop you can see picture of him by clicking on the sold items link. A buyer in Alabama sent me pictures of him and I sculpted him from clay and painted him. I was so proud of him and so was she.

I've started getting calls for job interviews in the OKC area so things are looking up in that way. I'm hoping to secure a position by the end of May, then put things in storage and possibly live with my parents or an aunt and uncle in the city for the summer so that I can save some money. Getting a summer job wouldn't hurt either.

It's tough starting completely over at this age. *sigh* And yet, God is faithful and I remain blessed. Financially, moving to Oklahoma was a very stupid thing to do, but I am still confident that it was the right thing to do. Makes no sense....it's just the way it is.

Thanks for keeping in touch. I'm going to take the comments off of moderation because I can no longer release them by checking email at school. So.....let's all play nice...ok? *wink*

love and grace,
pam

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My Etsy Shop

2008-04-17T23:41:00.001-05:00

I created a willfulgrace Etsy shop. Right now, I only have a couple of figures of Sparky and Emma in there for sale. But, boxers and jammie pants are coming soon. I promise! In the meantime, check out my little clay figures.

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More to Come...

2008-04-10T17:32:00.004-05:00

Wowzers, I've had a bunch going on lately.

I've missed watching LOST two straight Thursday nights in a row because I've been traveling to OKC to attempt to get my OK driver's license. And I'm on my way BACK up there this evening for what will hopefully be my last go-round with the DMV first thing in the morning. It's not the testing that's got me stumped; it's the documentation. I'm vowing right here and now.....to NEVER....EVER....EVER....NEVER....change my name again.....EVER. On the bright side of all this, I've spent the last two Friday afternoons traveling around the City handing out resumes at individual schools. Hopefully, something will come of all this. If not, it won't be for lack of effort.

VERY SOON.....I will be posting pictures of custom-made WILLFUL GRACE jammie pants and boxers. I also hope to have a paypal button. These will be one-of-a-kind with my personally designed logo affixed.

You know you've gotta have a pair!

love and grace,
pam

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It's Come to This...

2008-03-30T13:15:00.006-05:00

I've mentioned before that I'm struggling financially. Well...I mean it this time.

I. AM. STRUGGLING.

I'm busy about the task of applying for higher paying jobs in OKC, but in the meantime, I need help. Besides the fact that moving is expensive and I have nothing left of the savings I had when I made the original move to OK.

So....it's come to this...
I'm going to try peddling my wares here on the internet. I love sewing, and a generous friend bought me a very nice sewing machine for Christmas. I've used it off and on to make a bit of money here and there. My favorite items to make are things for little girls. I've never had a little girl, but I used to be one, and I remember what it felt like to have pretty little girl things. It was good. And now, since I can't actually WEAR this sort of stuff, I enjoy it vicariously by making it for others.

If you have a pretty little girl in your life who might enjoy a new summer dress, hat, purse....or maybe ALL three!....I can make them for you.

Here are pictures of a few I've made so far. The edges have pretty stitching thanks to my wonderful sewing machine.

Prices are: Dress-$20 Purse-$15 Hat $10 Email me if you're interested. Thanks!

love and grace,
pam
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Molasses crinkles

2008-03-23T22:33:00.005-05:00

You may recall that Willful Grace fans mark_and_patrick were kind enough to share their molasses crinkle recipe with us a short time ago on this very blog.

Well, I just got back from the Willful Grace test kitchen where I whipped up a big Easter Sunday batch of these scrumptious morsels, and I gotta tell you they are some kinda tasty! To save you the inconvenience of looking up mark_and_patrick's recipe in the comments area I have reproduced it here:

3/4 cup shortening
1 cup brown sugar
1 large egg
1/4 cup molasses (I prefer the flavor of organic)
2 1/4 C. flour
2 tsp. baking soda
1/4 tsp. salt
1/2 tsp. ground cloves
1 tsp. ground cinnamon
1 tsp. ground ginger

Cream shortening, sugar, molasses and egg together.
Sift remaining ingredients together and slowly add to creamed mixture. Chill dough for at least one hour (easier to roll into 1" balls).

After dough has chilled, preheat oven to 375. Roll into 1" diameter balls or I use a cookie scoop. Dip the tops of the balls in granulated sugar and place on a parchment lined or lightly greased cookie sheet. Sprinkle each ball with a couple drops of water (this is what makes them crinkle!).
Bake until just set, about 10-12 minutes.

Do not overbake or the cookies will be crunchy, no chewy in the centers. Once removed from the oven as with any cookie or baked item, it is still baking until it has cooled.

I only made a couple of changes. Number one, I left out the baking soda. Not that I have anything against baking soda, I just couldn't find mine. Must have used it all in the cat box or something. However, because I am Catholic I can make my cookies rise by praying to any one of six patron saints of bakers. (For the record, I went with Elizabeth of Hungary.) Also, I used butter instead of shortening. "La buerre, la buerre! Toujours la buerre!" as we say here at Willful Grace (especially right after Lent).

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That Guy I Was Seeing

2008-03-21T09:23:00.003-05:00

Ok, other than making sure the boys are okay and figuring out if I think homosexuals are "in" or "out".....(very tongue-in-cheek there if you didn't catch that)

I know the most burning question around here is..."What happened with that guy you were seeing?"

Well, he's still around. I just don't see him very often. He lives in OKC and besides a bunch of other stuff, he takes care of his two very sick and very elderly parents. He is a nurse (he was actually a doctor in China but the credentials aren't the same here)and between tending to his parents who are in and out of the hospital, taking more university classes, teaching some martial arts, and consulting for corporations who have dealings with China, well, the guy stays pretty darn busy. In case you missed this before, he's not Chinese, he just lived there for 13 years. Oh, he also speaks Mandarin fluently and translates old Chinese texts which apparently there's quite the market for. Who knew? It will be much easier to spend some more time with him after I move to that area.

Honestly, though, it's been very good for me to take it extremely slow as I meet someone, get to know them, and form a romantic relationship. As I've learned the hard way - don't we all - jumping into a relationship quickly when you still have open wounding is just plain stupid.

I'm also trying to be very careful because of the boys. They are all young and vulnerable in a way that's different from when they were toddlers. Daniel is 20, but the other three are now 16, 14, and 13. Those are extremely volatile ages for any family of children, let alone one that has gone through the turmoil that we've experienced. I'm finding it important to keep myself dedicated first and foremost to them and just be available. If I were to get all caught up in some whirlwind romance thing....well....I just wouldn't be as able to be tuned in to them the way I need to be. Sometimes I think kids go off the deep end simply because there's no one there who seems attentive enough to them to stop them. After two marriages and years of heartache and just plain CRAP, I'm determined to try and get this one part correct. I'm going to put them first no matter what.

That doesn't mean I'm not going to date this Chinese guy. (lol...i love calling him that!) I'm just doing my best to keep it in the proper perspective and keep things with the boys first and foremost in my heart and mind.

And that's all I have to say about that.
(the previous sentence is what 4th grade students like to call "a conclusion".....makes me literally crrrriiinge.)

love and grace,
pam

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Da Boys

2008-03-19T11:42:00.002-05:00

We're having a lovely time here at Casa de Momela this week. (momela is one of daniel's nicknames for me....get it...pamela, momela?) I've basically let the boys turn the entire house into one big sort of hotel room. They have the TV from the living room hooked up in my bedroom because the XBox Live hook-up can reach it that way....and they are all three "camped out" in there still asleep after having stayed up until all hours battling it out at some game against other kids from who knows where.

Zach seems great. We'll see. I've had several small talks with him, as opposed to one great big long one, and he knows that he has a home here if it comes to that point. That point could have come during this Spring Break, but he wants me to talk to Tdub about giving him one more chance. His biggest issue at this point is that he keeps skipping classes at school. Amazingly, his grades are pretty decent. But, he's got a job and of course all his friends that he would be very sad to leave behind should he end up making the move to Oklahoma. Selfishly, I'd love to have him here. We'll see. I'm 95% sure at this point that he'll go back home to Granbury at the end of spring break. Hayden, as always, is his usual all's-right-with-the-world self. That kid is just incredible in his resilience and attitude. Drew. I write more about him individually than any of the others. For one thing, he's here. But more than that, he tends to be the most "quirky" of the four. (might be that he's his mother's son)....anyway. Drew is Drew and that's that. He has been very very happy to be with his brothers this week. Actually, they've all been so great together that it's almost scary. I'm sort of expecting the bottom to fall out and a big row to ensue at any moment.

I know alot of you who read this are friends who actually know us....in real life...you've lived and worked and worshiped with us. So, I know you like hearing updates about the boys and that you continue to pray for all of us. I do value that. I also know that alot of you who are virtual friends email me now and then to check on them because you've come to care about them even though you've never met them. That means alot as well. More than you probably know, actually.

These boys are doing well. It's been, and continues to be, a difficult road for them but they know that their hope and foundation is in Christ. I know that they know that.

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First Time for Everything

2008-03-18T11:32:00.001-05:00

I just disabled comments for the FIRST. TIME. EVER. on this blog. It's a pretty interesting read, if you're interested and have the time...much longer than things I typically post.

It's on Rambling Update from March 8.

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The Boys are Back in Town

2008-03-16T09:20:00.007-05:00

A long time ago, in a land far far away, being greeted by this scene as I entered my kitchen bright and early in the morning would have put me in a disgusted, feeling-put-upon frump for the better part of the day.

Followed by this,

and I'd have flown into sort of mini-rage which included stomping up stairs, throwing off covers, and coming as close as possible to cursing without actually doing so.

For your added viewing pleasure, a few close-up shots.

Hey, at least the lid is back on the bean-dip, right?

Yes, the boys are back in town. I met Tdub (and his new partner) yesterday at the half-way point between here and there so that Zach and Hayden could spend spring break with me and Drew. Daniel's college spring break was last week, which spoiled the opportunity for a full-on, 4-boy reunion.

It's funny how your perspective can so completely change your reactions and sentiment about something. While the scene which greeted me this morning is still unacceptable, in the grand scheme of things, it's just not that big of a deal. I miss them, and all of this, is part of THEM. I'm still going make them clean it all up, but I'm not mad about it. In fact, while taking these pictures, I had a great idea for a book. All kids love these I Spy books and Walter Wick does an incredible job at setting up imaginary lands using all sorts of common and uncommon items from a variety of environments. The next great idea for one of these books has got to be a sort of "morning after" series. I'd never have set up a thing. Just arrive at various homes on the morning after more than one boy has had the run of the house, and bam, it's a pre-made I Spy book. Granted, some of them might not be fit for young eyes (take note that the DVD in the floor in my picture is The Bee Movie and not South Park), but even the older kids are fascinated with these sorts of books. After the boy version takes off, I could publish a girl's version. As to the co-ed version, I'd just rather not go there. I think I'm on to something here.

I'll get back to my theological rambling later. I just had to share this along with my joy at having most of the boys here with me for the week. There's ALOT more I could say (notice how I blazed right past the part about meeting Tdub and his partner), but for now I'm leaving it at this.

love and grace,
pam

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Rambling Update

2008-03-08T09:48:00.009-06:00

Warning: Unless you've been reading regularly for the past 3 years, some of this stuff may either not make sense or be downright offensive to you. But, I feel the need to ramble. p.s. If you've read this but your blog reader says this is a new post, it's not. I discovered a ton of typos and I'm attempting to fix them.

First of all, I have this new dog. Actually, I don't have a new dog, but I think I do have a new "dog project". This is Marilyn.
While Emma is completely jealous, she loves the extra playtime. Marylin was recently acquired by the 12-year old couple who lives next door to me. Ok, maybe they look at least 16, and I'm sure they're in their 20's, but still. Is it just me or are young people looking younger than they used to? Anyway, I'm not sure what the little couple does with all their time, and they do have a toddler of about a year and a half, but they are rarely ever home. Marilyn is outside needing attention (in my opinion) almost all the time. I gave her a little attention one day last week, and she's been hanging out at my house ever since. I don't understand why people adopt a dog and pay no attention to it.

I've made some art this week and I'm thinking of trying to turn this into a little business. I will call it something like "artifact art" or something like that. The stimulus for it is this; I have all sorts of odds and ends I've collected in boxes and scrapbooks. Sometimes it's a leftover earring from a pair I really loved, or something I clipped out of the newspaper, pictures or words from cards the boys gave me or made for me, or even bits of a quail egg that I saved because I loved the mottled pattern and the delicacy of the shell. Weird stuff, sentimental stuff, or just stuff that somehow appeals to me. And I made art out of that. Here's a picture of one of them. I have a few more in the works.
This one has a picture of the boys in it. It's from an awesome vacation we took to Colorado and New Mexico (pre-blogging days) and it's one of my favorites. I tore the picture to represent the tear in our families, and then found a silver heart to place next to it.

If you're still reading and you're wondering when I'm going to get to the offensive part, well, here it is. I've been having a long email conversation with a close friend and spiritual adviser (he would chuckle at that, probably) about sin and life in general. He's a person I listen to and trust and he challenges me to keep things in perspective when it comes to the meaning of life. For me, the meaning of life is that we are, ultimately, designed to be eternal creatures and eternity begins at birth. My friend and I talk alot about the Bible and what it really means.

I've recognize that I've spent an incredible amount of time (my thinking time) since the divorce working through the issue of homosexuality and whether or not it's a redeemed and sanctifiable human attribute in God's eyes. I'm not sure if anyone but me has noticed, but I've backed away from calling homosexual behavior, in and of itself, sin. I used to say that I believed that homosex was sin. Then, the more I came to understand gay people by getting to know them and then by experiencing the tragedy of the loss of my marriage, the less able I was to declare with such certainty that it is sin. I've never come right out and said, "Homosexual behavior is not sin", but I have certainly come to the conclusion that I don't know for sure, and that I'm not even sure I'm supposed to decide if it is or not. The more I questioned about this in my mind, the more I questioned all sin and the very nature of what sin is. The place where I seem to get most bogged down on the whole sin thing is this; I'm sinful. And I mean....really...really sinful. And yet, I'm redeemed. Furthermore, I have entire political parties who support and promote my sinfulness.

I'm of the opinion that the Republican party is full of, and run by, a bunch of greedy people. They pass legislation that helps me and others like me continue to live in a greedy state of being. They encourage me to horde wealth, which is a laughable concept to me at this point, but I know that I have a TON of stuff that I don't need. I'm choosing to pick on the Republican party because they appear to think they have a lock on what's moral and even Christian for our country. I disagree strongly. I believe they promote sinful lifestyles, most importantly to me, my own. I also believe they set up standards for others that they themselves don't follow. I think voting Democrat or Republican on the basis of sin and morality is just stupid. It makes no sense to me because I'm not willing to pick my sin over someone else's sin as "the better sin" and vote for someone based on that opinion. That sort of thinking is not scriptural, even IF you could actually somehow prove that voting Democrat or Republican has anything to do with being a Christian. It blows me away that so many people think that way.

I support Hillary Clinton for president because I think she's extremely smart (the smartest person running), I think she would do a good job, I admire her for sticking it out in her marriage, and I want to vote for the first woman president. Of all the people running, I believe she has the most at stake for doing an outstanding job, and I believe she will rise to the occasion and make sure the history books glow with her legacy.

Ok...I really AM rambling now.

I'll get back to this ramble later because I have alot more to say regarding my conversations with my friend. I'm still mulling over most of it. Thanks for hanging in there with me on this!

love and grace,
pam

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Hey Girlfriend!

2008-03-04T17:21:00.007-06:00

Emma has a couple of "girlfriends" in the yard next door. Sparky tolerates them, but Emma frets over them. One day last week, on a particularly cold evening, the grey poodle yipped off and on all night. Poor Emma stayed perched at the top of the bed, facing the big window and looking outside for almost the entire night. Her personality is like Mrs. Kravitz from "Bewitched" and Aunt Bea from "Andy Griffith" all rolled into one little hyper-active dog. I give her complete credit for the fact that Sparky, the calm, submissive one, is not overweight. She makes sure he plays at least a few rounds of chase through the house with her every evening. As they come barreling down the hallway, into the living room, around the ottoman and back out again, it sounds like the thundering hoof beats of dog-sized horses. I have no idea how many paces she runs him through during the day while I'm at school, but it's obviously enough to keep him in shape. Sparky and Emma have been an incredible comfort and at times a blessed distraction to me during this past year. I snapped these pictures of them this morning before I left for school. The light dusting of snow we got last night was a welcome treat and Emma's first experience with it.

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Pray for Zach

2008-02-26T21:27:00.002-06:00

Zach is my 16 year-old stepson, Tdub's oldest. He's 16 and he's struggling mightily, spinning completely out of control, making the sorts of mistakes that will take YEARS to overcome. I don't feel I should share more details, but my heart just breaks for him. If things continue as they are, Tdub may insist that he come and live with me for at least the remainder of this school year. While I'd love to have him here because I love him and miss him, these would not the best of circumstances in which to have him. He doesn't want to leave his friends. Although, leaving his current group of friends is exactly what he needs. Please just pray.

love and grace,
pam

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This Just In

2008-02-24T09:31:00.003-06:00

In a desperate and self-aggrandizing move, Pam Ferguson, a.k.a. "grace of the willful sort", has thrown her full and unabashed support and strategic and timely endorsement to Hillary Clinton.

I realize the momentum of my readership (12 of you) will be disappointed in one way (the Obama way), while the remainder of you (6 readers) will conclude that I've officially slipped into the outer recesses of liberal, pinko, socialistic, baby-killing, marry your dog, hell.

I just felt it was time to take a stand. :)

And thank you to the 4 of you who are with me on this one.

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Trying Again

2008-02-22T23:03:00.003-06:00

After the botched attempt to have a date on Valentine's Day, there have been several more phone chats and a few emails exchanged. He is extremely intriguing, and according to the chief of police of my small town, "he's clean". What more could a girl dream of? It's fun and scary to date at my age. But the risk of getting hurt, I still believe, is worth it.

In other news, I've determined that I really must begin to search for more lucrative job opportunities. I despise the idea of moving AGAIN this summer, but this tiny town I'm living in just barely pays enough to get me through each month. I also need to work on my master's degree if I have true intentions of trying to make more money in education. My goal being that by the time Drew is in college, I'll at least be able to help him out from time to time. At this point, I can provide no assistance at all to Daniel. So, I'm focusing on the large school districts in Oklahoma City that pay more and have the added benefit of being very close to several universities where I could easily work on my master's. As always, prayers are needed. I've gotta get busy!!!

love and grace,
pam

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Valentine's Day

2008-02-15T15:51:00.002-06:00

OK.....so, it's the day after Valentines. But, yesterday was so strange that I needed a day of reflection on it before safely committing it to writing and not sounding like I'm off my rocker. I'm not in any way promising that I won't still sound like I'm off my rocker, but at least this way it won't be because I didn't take the time to reflect on it.

First of all, due to a sort of domino effect of unforeseen circumstances, I was not able to have any sort of date for Valentine's Day. There had been a plan in the works, but everything fell apart because of:
1. my overactive and relationship paranoid imagination
2. my extremely protective friends who have nothing but the best of intentions, even as they involve people like the chief of police of our small town
3. the friend's of my potential date who took offense for their friend and who also have nothing but the best of intentions
4. my 13-year-old son who wouldn't care if you were dressed up like the Easter Bunny...chances are you're a knife-wielding, ax-toting serial killer...in Drew's world, Easter Bunny costume is code for "gee, look how many concealed weapons I can cram into this large fluffy tail"
5. the extremely poor health of my new friend's elderly parents

You can just go ahead and create a story using those 5 elements and it will suffice as the reason why I sat and watched Lost all alone last night instead of enjoying some sort of terrific dinner with a date. But, all is not "lost" (heehee!) and amends and pardons have been made all around. I'm pretty sure everything will work out....given a bit more time.

And that was just the personal portion of my Valentine's Day Fun-O-Rama. It gets even more exciting when I get to the part that happened at school yesterday. Without going into any detail, and allowing you to assume that I was absolutely, positively in the realm of acceptable and even expected teacher behavior (because I was, for real), the day culminated with an agitated parent sweeping through my classroom, throwing an emptied (of candy) wicker basket across the room, and exclaiming loudly in the presence of all 17 of my 4th grade students, "c'mon (son) let's get the f*@& out of here!" Oh yes. Is it ironic or tragic that the entire episode was instigated by a phone call I'd made to the parent not 30 minutes prior about said parent's child using the exact same word out loud to another student in class? The initial shock and dismay displayed by the parent upon hearing the child's offense became immediately laughable at that point.

I did get one really nice surprise yesterday that I must share. Tdub commented on my last post! The Arrested Development one. Since I'm certain any regular reader would want to hear any comment he might take the time to leave, I thought I'd let you guys know out front that it's there. It was a very pleasant occurrence in a day full of being quite bummed out.

I hope your Valentine's Day was better than mine....in the overall sense I mean. Looking on the bright side of things, at least it all made for something interesting to write about, no?

love and grace,
pam
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Arrested Development

2008-02-10T09:11:00.000-06:00

No. Not the show, Arrested Development. And it was an incredibly awesome TV show, probably my favorite of all time.

I'm talking about arrested development in the realm of reparative therapy. In reparative therapy world(not to be confused with the real world), arrested development is at the heart of every struggler's battle with his same sex attractions. Arrested development basically means that the person is stuck at the age of 12, or thereabouts. I know and have known hundreds of 12-year-olds. One of the biggest issues they face is trying to decide just what sort of person they are or intend to become. They often pretend to be things they are not as a defense for their own feelings of inadequacy. Bingo. That description pretty much nails most gay men who are hiding in straight marriages. And let's face it, when you're married to a guy who's never been open and honest about his struggles, to the point that he's married you under the pretense of being straight, well, arrested development sounds like as good a diagnosis as any.

Here's where the theory breaks down. According to the basic tenants of reparative therapy, as a person overcomes these issues of arrested development, they will lose their same sex desires and become heterosexual in orientation. Right. Saying such a thing is like saying that all heterosexual men are developed past the age of 12. HA! We all know THAT'S not the case!

I've come to the conclusion that pretty much all of the more bizarre aspects of the reparative therapy Tdub participated in (all the things that made it different from regular therapy: the holding, touching, cradling, etc...) were not only ineffective at reducing same sex desires but harmful in that the boundaries of client trust and ethical practice were often broken or skewed to the point that they were unrecognizable.

What about the ex-gays who are happily married and claim they've overcome homosexuality? My response is, what about it? Even those folks, for the most part, are honest enough to admit that at best, their same sex attractions have decreased to the point that they are not significant enough to keep them from maintaining a healthy opposite sex marriage. That's still a far cry from making a complete exchange of same sex attractions for opposite sex ones. Or, to put it more clearly, of changing from gay to straight. Furthermore, I have absolutely nothing against ex-gays OR their marriages. I know the commitment it takes to keep it together and I actually applaud them for doing so, particularly in cases where they have committed to raising their children together.

I've made the statement before that reparative therapy works as long as the person keeps doing it. I still agree with that for the most part. If there is such a thing as good reparative therapy, I see it as basically a bunch of strategies to assist guys in managing their same sex attractions to a point that they are able to remain celibate or stay married to a woman.

And that, dear friends, is what I think about that. In case anyone was wondering.

And, if you're wondering where all this is coming from, just out of the blue.....well....it's just coming out of the blue as I continue to process the experiences of the past several years.

love and grace,
pam

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New Friend

2008-02-08T13:34:00.000-06:00

OK...so....I made this new friend. I'll leave you guessing as to where I met him. ;)

He lived in China for 13 years, and has traveled the world over, so he's full up to the brim with intriguing stories. He speaks fluent Mandarin Chinese and teaches a few martial arts classes a week. For our first meeting we ate Chinese food and visited a big Asian market in Oklahoma City. It was fun. Fun. Fun. Fun.

And that's all I have to say about that. For now.

OH....and right now it no longer sucks to be me! Funny how that works.

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Forgiveness

2008-02-02T07:52:00.000-06:00

First of all, I need someone to teach me how to forgive my new laptop because there is some configuration of keys, or maybe my sleeves need to be rolled up, or maybe my feet aren't being held just right - whatever it is - that makes everything I've been typing just magically disappear. And it's REALLY starting to IRK me! Blogger autosave was not fast enough for the brilliant thinking that was coming out of my fingers just 10 minutes ago before it ALL disappeared!!!! ugh. ugh. ugh.

back to the real post....

I've been thinking about forgiveness lately because it seems, now that I think about it, forgiveness or the lack of it drives almost every situation in my entire world. So many folks marveled (ok, they didn't use the word "marvel" ) at the speed with which I was able to forgive Tdub for leaving the marriage. Heck, even I marveled at it. On reflection I can see clearly that I had forgiven Tdub for leaving the marriage a LONG time ago. Years ago, in fact. Now, lest you think I really AM a saint, cause I'm NOT, that forgiveness was a slow and arduous process. Tdub could, if he would, attest loudly to the fact that I was a pretty angry and bitter little camper in that marriage for about the course of one year. That was before blogging. But having a right to be bitter and angry still doesn't justify it when you're a Christian. I remember when I came out of the anger and the bitterness. For me, it was a matter of acceptance. I actually accepted the hurt and disappointment - embraced it, if you will. I was disappointed that I didn't have a "normal" marriage. You know, the kind where the guy is attracted to the girl in a fundamental way. So, in that way, I embraced Tdub's gayness. I determined that I, yes indeed, was married to a gay guy. What now? Well, since the gay guy was determined at that time to stay married to me, my best course of action seemed to be to just love him exactly the way he was and get over myself. Which was a constant battle that I probably won about 75% of the time. Those are pretty good numbers in a situation like that. I would hope that Tdub would concur with them, and because he's learned alot about grace from the whole thing, he'd probably give me an 80. For me, the most difficult part was the sexual part. I've not blogged about that too much. We don't talk about it. The wives of guys who struggle with their sexuality, I mean. It's fundamentally painful to be married to a man who fundamentally doesn't desire you. We did have an active and great sex life, don't get me wrong. I even blogged a little bit about that fact. There were great times. But still, it was there. It was always there, and each great time made me hunger for more while it seemed to him more like another thing he'd checked off the calendar for the week. I knew his same sex attractions weren't ever going away and so my expectations and hopes were that they would simply be lessened to the point that our marriage would survive. His expectations, on the other hand, were that he would finally be completely free of his same sex attractions. He made no bones about that. He wanted it GONE. He did not want to be gay or homosexual or whatever word you choose to use. And, when it came down to it, and when enough people began to know that he struggled with his sexuality, I believe it was at that point that he finally began to accept himself for the way he was. And for him, to accept the way that he was meant to live within that framework. If everyone is going to know that I'm gay, then I'm going to BE gay.

So the forgiveness happened years before the marriage ended. The end of the marriage simply caused a huge chasm of pain. It felt like it swallowed me whole. Which, if you think about it, is a better way to be swallowed. I'm glad I didn't feel chopped up into pieces and chewed. I believe that if I hadn't already forgiven Tdub long ago, that's how it would have been. I just didn't have nearly the amount of crap to deal with regarding him personally because I'd dealt with it already.

I've also decided that this is a good strategy for life in general. When possible, forgive people before they hurt you. That's what Jesus did.

And so boys and girls, there's Ms. Pam's life lesson for today. Brought to you courtesy of years of pain and anguish! ha!

love and grace,
pam

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I Will Not Chew Gum in Class

2008-01-24T20:03:00.000-06:00

I was walking around looking for a students to assist during an after-school tutoring program when I noticed two girls, having finished their other homework, literally plowing into the task of writing in their journals. They were going at it with the sort of zeal reserved for things like pie-eating contests. I was pleased, thinking maybe they'd stumbled onto some great insight and were rapidly recording it in their personal journal before their thoughts vanished into nothingness. I came closer to discover line after line of "I will not chew gum in class". They'd filled up page after page in their spiral notebooks with these sentences. I commented, "So, which class did get caught chewing gum in?" The first girl replied, "I haven't gotten caught yet, but when I do, I'll have my sentences ready." I found it sort of funny, but then a sad commentary on the lack of effectiveness of that particular teacher. I guess it would be like all of us sending in a few hundred bucks a month and then speeding down the freeway, not even bothering to brake at the sight of a patrol car. Except that we can't do that. I usually have a problem, in general, with giving writing as punishment, although I've even stooped to it in desperation a couple of times in my 19 years of teaching. However, I'd prefer they write a research report on the history or chewing gum or something of that nature.

In other news....

I GOT A NEW LAPTOP FOR MY BIRTHDAY!!! Yes...I'm blogging right this minute on a brand new Acer Laptop. It's a wonderful, beautiful, almost cosmic thing. I feel human again. The Granbury school district provided us with laptops, so I've been without one since moving to OK. My parents bought me this one last week. I'm still figuring it out. I clicked on a desktop icon today and discovered that it had a built in camera. Here a a few shots of me at my desk at school, just after I figured out I could take pictures with it.

Pretty darn cool.

Thanks for checkin' in!
love and grace,
pam
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Birthday Time

2008-01-20T10:40:00.000-06:00

In all the years I've been writing this blog, I don't think I've ever mentioned my birthday passing. It's not that I haven't had them, or they weren't acknowledged by my family. In fact, Tdub was a bit over-the-top when it came to birthdays and celebrating them. It was one of the things we disagreed about in a friendly sort of way. He thought birthdays should always be a big deal and you should make a big "stink" about that person and do all sorts of special things for them on that day. I was of the opinion that you should treat people more like it was their birthday on every other day. I never wrote about my birthdays back then, I think, out of some sort of rebellion against his way of thinking. I refused to bring it up because then some people would feel like they had to say Happy Birthday or get me a card or some other thing like that.

Well. That chapter of my life is over. And...

IT'S MY BIRTHDAY!

Actually, my birthday is on Tuesday, the 22nd. I like it that my birthday is close to Martin Luther King, Jr.'s birthday because he's a hero of mine. In fact, to commemorate our birthdays I'll remind myself and everyone else of probably my all-time favorite quote. I mean, if I had to be on a desert island, and I could only take one quote with me, this one might be it.

"If a man is called to be a streetsweeper, he should sweep streets even as Michelangelo painted, or Beethoven composed music, or Shakespeare wrote poetry. He should sweep streets so well that all the host of heaven and earth will pause to say, here lived a great streetsweeper who did his job well." MLK, Jr.

My cousin Wes is making dinner for me tonight and he's invited my teaching partners and a few other friends. There will be about 10 of us. I am VERY much looking forward to this. They are a super fun group and the closest friends I've made since I've been in Sulphur. In fact, they'll probably remain my closest friends even if I stay here for a very long time. I've learned, from making this move, that one of the greatest things about friendship is shared history. It's odd that my history was what compelled me to start fresh in a new place, but it's also having history with folks that I miss the most. The good news is that I'm making new history with a new group. These new friends have graciously opened their hearts to me. People don't have to do that, you know.

In other news....I've rejoined eHarmony. I was in that little funk a few weeks ago....feeling really lonely and having second thoughts about this whole being single for the rest of my life idea. So...I decided to join eHarmony. Not necessarily to search for a mate...but...I guess if that happens, it happens. I had regrets from joining it last time because it was too soon and I ended up bringing pain to someone. But, the thing is this; it's always a risk to put yourself out there, and anyone who joins eHarmony has to be grown up enough to be willing to take that risk and reap the benefits as well as the potential consequences. Myself included. Yes, it could hurt to join eHarmony. I might meet someone, fall in love with them, then be rejected by them. But...guess what?? I've already survived things much WORSE than that! Or, and I actually find this more difficult to stomach, I could have someone fall in love with me and then have to hurt them. It basically stinks when you're trying to figure all this stuff out.

Oh. I'll be 45. (that way you don't have to ask)

love and grace,
pam

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On a 'role

2008-01-16T20:23:00.000-06:00

My friend Kathy retired last year, and her youngest child left home maybe the year before that, and right before Christmas, she came over here with all her Corning ware and said "Here. I got these as wedding presents. I figured you maybe could use them."

Then she threw back her head, let out a booming mad scientist laugh and said "Because my casserole days are over! Over! And yours are just beginning! If you need me I'll be at Club Med."

OK, well, no. That last part I just made up, but I have a feeling she was kind of saying it on the inside.

But I never realized what a difference a few casserole dishes could make in your life! I spent about four hours cooking on Sunday, and I put everything in my casserole dishes, soup, stew, mac' and cheese, chicken, lasagna. And all this week all I've had to do is throw a casserole in the oven when I get home and presto! Dinner's ready.

Which, of course, frees me up to spend quality time with the kid. We're trying to coax him into doing his pre-school homework right now. Something about drawing a picture of a pancake.

And I'll tell you another thing. I feel like this whole process has brought me that much closer to my goal of one day writing a self-help book on techniques for covert insertion of leafy green vegetables into children's food.

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Sucks to be Me

2008-01-11T19:23:00.000-06:00

I have down days. You know the sort. At least, I'm hoping you do in a really nice way...the way that means it's normal and perfectly sane to have days when it just sucks being you. I came home today feeling that way. Thinking about how I never intended to end up all alone in the world. Even though I know I'm not alone at all. And even though I recognize, intellectually, that I have no reason to be depressed or down about the fact that I've been married TWICE. Heck, gay people can't get married once, and I'm knockin' em back like a frat boy at a keg party.

Sometimes I'll hear people talk about their experiences and they'll preface the whole thing with, "if I knew then what I know now..." OK. That's just nuts. If you didn't go THROUGH the experience you wouldn't KNOW what you now know. That's the sucky part of the whole thing.

I'm always telling my students..."stay in the moment"....because they are constantly wanting to know what we're doing next. I need to take my own advice....but....the moment I'm having right this second really sucks and I don't really want to be in it even though I'll probably end up looking back in a few years and wishing I could be right back in this moment. Oh please, Lord, don't let that happen. And so...I'm thinking....well...what is it you want? Do you want to meet someone? Do you want to get married again? What do you want?

I DON'T KNOW!!! augh!

All I know is that right this second, it sucks to be me.

thanks for listening.....and I'll get better....promise.

love and grace,
pam

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Looking Back-2007

2007-12-28T11:58:00.000-06:00

January 2007

The divorce was final. I didn't even go to the courthouse to watch it happen. At that time, it was just me, Sparky, and Drew living in our little duplex. Sparky was a great comfort to me as a puppy and Drew was a challenge on a daily basis, being a 12 yr. old. Zach and Hayden (tdub's sons) were in and out from time to time, sometimes staying the night, sometimes not, and Daniel (my oldest) was home from college looking like some sort of leftover roadie from a disastrously untalented rock band. I'd become very unhappy with my work situation even though I loved going to school every day to teach and learn from my 7th graders. It was my extremely left-brained principal who almost put me over the edge last fall. His idea of "helping" deal with the difficulties of my new situation was to give me extra scheduling committments. HA! That would be like trying to raise George Bush's approval rating by having him read aloud on camera from Dostoevsky.

Lesson learned: Sometimes the very BEST thing you can do to help someone is to simply leave them alone, particularly if you are the polar opposite of them in personality and temperament.

February 2007

Having joined eHarmony (big mistake) a few months earlier, I'd met this extremely kind, generous and talented art teacher who lived in Oklahoma City. Joining eHarmony did make me feel better- just knowing that I was a person that someone else would desire. However, that reasoning for meeting people who are seriously looking for a mate is quite selfish. It's a good system for matching women with men who have similar personalities and outlooks on life, but it was way too soon for me to have done such a thing.

Lesson learned: If you're wanting someone to desire you in a relationship, be sure you're ready for the same thing, or you hurt people unnecessarily.

March 2007

By this time, I knew beyond a doubt that I had to get out of Granbury. Having moved there 22 years prior when it was still a quaint little community, I'd made far to many friends and aquaintances to be able to venture even to a place as ominous as Super-Walmart without running into all sorts of folks who knew all about the tragedy that had become my life. It was a different sort of tragedy than say a death or even just a typical divorce. Alot of people responded to my desire to move with "well, HE should be the one moving, not YOU." But honestly, it wouldn't have mattered. Even if Tdub had moved away, I'd still have wanted to get out of there. I literally felt like every time I walked into any public place that I had this huge backstory I carried with me. Imagine one of those little pet shop turtles with a shell of the giant sea tortoise on its back. That was me in Granbury.

Lesson learned: Sometimes running away is not running away, it's just starting over.

April 2007

Having spent my spring break in Oklahoma City handing out resumes, I waited anxiously to hear something. Now, you'd think after having been in the school business for 18 years, I'd know full well that it's a rare situation for a school to be ready to think about hiring for the next year at this point. If they are, it could mean trouble. Nevertheless, I got discouraged because with each passing week I was more and more certain that I could not live many days past June 1 in Granbury. My mental health just could not take it. I managed, during that month, to eek out one last hurrah of a service project at church. I wrote and directed a drama for two groups of youth for our annual Leadership Training for Christ gathering which was held during Easter weekend at a hotel in Dallas. I'll never regret having done that. It was awesome.

Lesson learned: You can get by for a time on sheer will and guts.

May 2007

By this time I was getting extremely antsy about finding a job in Oklahoma. At school, we'd gotten past the state mandated writing test that I'd been preparing my students for all year. This was a major relief for me mostly because it finally tamed the bee in my principal's bonnet that had him buzzing around wondering if I were going to be able to produce the DATA he desired from me. As it turns out, my data was great and I still managed to form the sorts of relationships with students that continue to motivate them long after you're no longer their teacher. Professionally, it was my worst year ever simply because until that year, I'd never had a principal who doubted my abilities as a teacher like he did. He reminded me of one of those gingerbread houses I made with my little friends this year - everything layered up so sweetly and pretty to form a house perfectly balanced in form, texture, and overall visual appeal. Yet, underneath, just a cardboard shell with no real staying power of its own. OH....and it was during this month, that Daniel and Drew picked out Emma for me as a Mother's Day gift!

Lesson learned: Even if you're great at what you do - honest and humble in your efforts - some people just don't have the DNA code that allows them to appreciate uniqueness in others.

June 2007

My parents took a bus tour to Niagra Falls and were gone for a week at the beginning of the summer. I stayed at their house and continued what had become by now, in my mind, a desperate hunt for a job. Again, knowing full well that in all the years I'd been teaching we rarely ever hired anyone new until June. I had a few interviews lined up in Oklahoma City for art jobs but decided on a whim to call my Aunt Kathy in Sulphur to see if she'd heard of anything opening up over there. Sulphur is one hour East of my hometown of Duncan, and almost all of my aunts and uncles live there. My Aunt Kathy and her husband own and run the local newspaper, so she's usually "in the know" to say the least, about what's going on in town. Within 5 minutes she had two interviews lined up for me - THAT day.

Lesson learned: Sometimes it is who you know.

July 2007

I loaded and moved the final boxes from Granbury to Sulphur on July 4. Our last stop with the U-haul was at my school to load 18 years worth of accumulated and boxed school stuff. It was significant to me that we had to drive straight through the beginnings of the Granbury 4th of July parade as we made our way out of town. The Granbury 4th is the largest yearly event in town, drawing in thousands of visitors and bringing the entire community to town for the festivities. I literally saw most everything I was leaving behind as I pulled away. And it was okay.

Lesson learned: Sometimes you just know you're doing the right thing.

August 2007

After arriving in Sulphur, I quickly became reaquainted with my first cousin, Wes, who's a state representative for Oklahoma. Wes is 10 years younger than me and still single. (he's not gay) I say that because I have this gay theme that seems to run through my blog, so for the sake of his dating future, I feel the need to point that out! He is a democrat as are most folks here in this agriculture and ranch-based part of the state. I mention Wes because having him for a cousin has made this move so much easier for me. He gives me an instant connection to just about everyone. Well, he and the rest of my family who lives here and who have insured that I'm not more than 3 degrees seperation relationally from any other person in town. I had a great time in August helping Wes spruce up his brand new home with some decorating just before his open house.

Lesson learned/relearned: Family is a wonderful thing.

September 2007

School started and reconfirmed to me that I'd done the right thing by moving here. My 4th grade teaching partners are absolutely the BEST. They are the sort of women who can hug you with a smile or give you the real thing if that's what you're needing. They make me feel 10 feet tall when I know I'll never be more than the same old 5 foot 2 I've always been. And my class, oh, my class. They're absolutley perfect. (blatant suck-up alert) And my new principal is the bomb!

Lesson learned/relearned: Life is good.

October 2007

I met pirate girl and she changed my life. This little urchin-like creature full of spunk and mischief, came bicycling by my back yard when I was outside with the dogs. I asked her what she was going to be for Halloween, and our relationship was born. Helping her and her family has become a mission for me. Not a mission to "save" anyone, God takes care of that stuff....but a mission to help those in need.

Lesson learned: Stay outside yourself and your problems go away.

November 2007

My family continues to bless me by joining in with my mission to help pirate girl and her family. One of my aunt's petitioned her Sunday School class for help and because of this pirate girl and her family now have their own washer and dryer in their home. Two of my aunts gave me large cash donations to buy coats, shoes, and Christmas gifts. My parents continue to supplement my income so that I can help others. My art teacher friend in Oklahoma City is now mentoring the oldest boy who is a senior in high school. Turns out he is an awesome artist and wants to pursue an art education of some sort after high school. I spent most of the month of November helping this family which made the holiday season much easier to bear. There's just no time to think about things gone by when there are things in front of you to accomplish.

Lesson learned/relearned: All things work together for good.

December 2007

What a year. And yet, with all the turmoil and all the change, I'm able to sit here amongst the mess of things left to clean up from the holidays and feel at peace. For the first December of many, the worries that had worn on my mind and become part of me, the way bronze or copper sculptures grow a patina, are gone. While patina can be beautiful in its own right, cleaning it off now and then adds a brand new shine and a beauty of a different sort. I feel I've come out from under a veil and can breathe free and easy, no inhaler needed. I love being able to step outside those issues and look back at them now more clearly. Some have wondered aloud to me at how that clarity seems to have bred more compassion than bitterness in my heart toward Tdub. I just call that the love of God. That's the beauty of a life given to Christ. Either way you go, worn patina or freshly cleaned shine, you're bound to end up in a place of compassion. That's how the love of God works in the hearts of those who seek him. At least that's the way I choose to look at it.

Lesson learned/relearned: Love wins.

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Random Pictures

2007-12-23T10:42:00.000-06:00

Remember last Christmas? I received the awesome digital camera from my parents. I've had more fun with it than I can tell you. My parents generously included a 2GB memory stick and I tend to fill the thing up over several months time. Here are some random shots with rambling to accompany them from the last few months.

Back in October, we took our 4th graders to a Chickasaw Indian Festival. There were craft booths, displays of historical artifacts, traditional Indian games, and even tastings of traditional Indian foods. This is a shot of me with the llama from the animal petting zoo. I found it odd when I first arrived here in Oklahoma that the word "Indian" is thrown around as if it's an okay thing to say. Back in Texas, were were taught to refer to Native Americans only by that title. And then, I arrive in the "land of the red man" and find that the red men and women refer proudly to themselves as Indians. Go figure.

I like this picture of Sparky. He's my man.

Speaking of "my men,"

here's a shot of Drew decorating this year's Christmas tree.

One of my very favorite ornaments.

A shot from the kitchen into the living room. I love Christmas decorating!

My baby.

My Aunt Judy raises dachshunds. I want another one!!! I don't have a red one, after all. The voice of reason and restraint controls me...plus the fact that I don't have $100 lying around to spend on one....not to mention shots, feeding, etc...

This is one of my new best friends here in Oklahoma. We spent a fun day a few weeks ago making gingerbread houses.

Merry Christmas to all!
love and grace,
pam
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The Problem with Advice...and Sin, and some other stuff

2007-12-15T08:37:00.000-06:00

The thing about giving marriage advice is this; every situation is different. So, while I can't imagine a situation in which I'd encourage a woman to marry an ex-gay, I do have a great deal of respect and admiration for those couples who are already married and in that situation. I'd have no difficulty whatsoever encouraging a woman to "hang in there" if already married to an ex-gay.

The overwhelming majority of wives of struggling men that I met while married to Tdub weren't aware of the struggle with same sex attraction when they entered their marriage. This, to me, is a sad reality which reflects the truth of what an astoundingly crappy disservice the church has been to gay folks in general. The church is supposed to "serve". Instead, gays and even those with unwanted attractions get beaten over the head with how abhorrent they are for being attracted to the wrong sex.

Let's just say, for the purpose of this argument, that a long lost dead sea scroll turned up where it turns out Jesus held a question and answer session on homosexuality. OK. Now. Think about that picture for a moment....or maybe two or three if it hasn't sunk in to you yet what that would look like.

My point is this. Jesus didn't operate that way. He did address people "caught in sin" or he would call people by the specific sin (murderers, adulterers, liars). But, he didn't do what a big chunk of the church does. He didn't campaign against a certain behavior or hold conferences or rallies based on wiping out certain behaviors. He seemed more concerned with the person and less concerned with the specific behavior. When he did meet folks "caught in sin", like the woman at the well, he could have a conversation with them and send them away HAPPY. I think one reason that woman was so happy was that Jesus let her know that she still had worth, even though she struggled with sin. We must be doing something wrong. I think church folks, as a general rule, get the whole sin thing completely wrong. The church does more to empower sin than the devil ever could. It's one thing to sit in a class and admit that you are a sinner, "just like everyone else," but it's quite another to have your particular sin singled out for "judgement". The thing is, ANY sin is a really BIG SIN. Sometimes I think it's my "little" sins that ARE the biggest.

I'm thinking out loud and I'm beginning to confuse myself! ha! What's my point?

I think I started out trying to make the point that it's a shame that SO MANY women end up in the situation I was in while married to Tdub. Blindsided by the fact that he struggled with same sex attraction. No woman should have to go into a marriage unaware of that fact. There are other things a woman shouldn't go into a marriage unaware of, but this happens to be my particular issue. I say that because I often have people come back at me with arguments like, "well, all marriages have struggles", or "this isn't any worse than X or Y in straight marriages". For one thing, YES, it is worse and if you doubt that please read the last 21/2 years of writing here.......and secondly, I'm not talking about ALL marriages, I'm talking about the ones where gay guys marry straight women.

One other thing....while I'm at it. I'd love to demystify the word "gay" for the fundamentalist Christian world. I kid you not, if you followed my writing in all the circles I frequent from time to time, you'd see that one must spend almost as much time defining words as making points. It's crazy. When I use the word gay, I just mean a man who is attracted to other men sexually. That's all. I don't mean an orgy-attending, HIV-wielding, substance-abusing psychotic. Just for the record.

Thanks for listening!
love and grace,
pam
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Marriage (1st bit of rambling)

2007-12-14T09:21:00.000-06:00

Everyone who reads this blog knows by now that I support the rights of gays to marry each other. I phrase it that way because I've had this argument thrown in my face before; "Gays do have the right to marry, as long as they marry someone of the opposite gender."

That argument sounds like fightin' words to a woman who's been through what I've been through. I realize there's a bit of a paradox when I can talk about being thankful for the experiences of being married to an ex-gay, and in the same breath say that knowing what I know now, I'd not have married Tdub. I've found paradox to be an integral part of living for Christ. It just is. The fact of the matter is, I can't change the past so I choose to view it in a postitive light and learn from it. So, while I'd very likely advise another woman against marrying an ex-gay, I can say that having gone through that marriage was a good thing for me. Good like running your first marathon. You want to give up much of the time, you'd not make it at all if it weren't for those people on the sidelines with the oranges and paper cups of water, and you occasionally have to stop and puke your guts out. No pain, no gain.

More later. :)

love and grace,
pam

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Gay families eat donuts too.

2007-12-04T09:10:00.000-06:00

Somehow Tony and I have given our four-year-old the impression that donuts are an intregal part of Catholic liturgy. In the Catholic mass there's this pause right after communion where everyone's silent and people are either sitting or kneeling in prayer. It's very solemn.

And that's when the kid turns to me and says "We get donuts now?!"

And I whisper to him, "One more song. Sit down."

Then all the other kids look at eachother like they're saying "Donuts? Did he just say donuts? That's what I'm talkin' 'bout! Donuts!"

So this past Sunday, as is my custom, I drive us to the donut shop, me, Tony, Nick and our friend's 13-year-old. Now pulling into the parking space in front of the donut shop, I hit the breaks too hard, and spilled the kid's water bottle, so the three of them went into the donut shop, while I cleaned up the puddle in the back seat.

As I walk into the donut shop, some worried-looking lady about my age looks me right in the eye and points to Nick, who's standing in line with Tony and the 13-year-old and says "Are you adopting him?"

And the question kind of takes me by surprise, because why would you ask me if my child is adopted, right? We look alike, and most people just assume he's my biological child. And why would she say "Are you adopting him?" (indicating that the adoption is not yet final) instead of "Is he adopted?"?

But anyway, I answer the lady in the affirmative, and she asks me where I'm adopting him from, and I tell her the name of the adoption agency Tony and I used.

Then she says to me "They allow gays to adopt boys? Homosexuals?"

And that's when I knew this conversation was not going to a good place, so I just said "Yes," and turned away, and as I did the lady said to no one in particular, "Gays, these two!" and she left.

And I didn't know to feel glad that she left or disappointed that she didn't stick around and ask more questions. I remember Barbara Jordan (one of my heroes growing up) used to say you should talk to people about their prejudices, not just walk away from them or shout them down. But I find that's not always so easy in practice.

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Keep On Keepin' On

2007-12-02T11:28:00.000-06:00

There have been probably 3 or 4 times during the time I've been writing this blog when I've come to a crossroads sort of place. During those times I get the idea that maybe my blogging days have run their course and it might be time to focus that energy elsewhere. I began blogging with the notion that it would be an outlet for my own thinking as well as a chronicle of the journey I was on as the wife of a guy who struggled with same sex attraction. At the heart of anyone who blogs there has to be the idea that you have something to say that is of some significance, at least somewhere to someone. Hence, the outrageously awesome (when you think about it) perk of comments. Not only do I get to tell the world, should they care to listen, what I'm thinking about, but that world can comment on my thinking. It's brilliant. I guess it follows that one who blogs as a venue for thinking would eventually spend a portion of that time thinking about the act of blogging. Thinking about thinking. It's called metacognition, and it's a higher order thinking skill. (teacher talk)

At each of those crossroads sorts of times, when I've wondered if I have anything left to say that's of significance, I've received a comment from out of the blue which reminds me of my purpose. I woke up this morning to this comment from a new reader:

GrantJM said...: Grace- I was led to you by a fan of your blog. It's refreshing how you take time to talk about those of us who struggle to find our place in this world after living so long closeted and in shame. I am one who after 29 years of marriage is just waking up and it is both a nightmare as well as some kind of dream finding myself. Thanks for not candy coating your words, but just talking from your soul. It's what we all need - it's where we hear and are heard by God best I believe.
Thank you, GrantJM, for taking the time to comment and for sharing a bit of your story that puts your thoughts as well as your compliments to me in context. Your comment was exactly what I needed to hear when I needed to hear it. I'm inspired to go back to doing some of the same sort of blogging I did when I began. I'm still processing so much of what I've been through. It seems time and even physical distance from the events can be healing in an of themselves, but the nitty-gritty work of processing things is still required in order to move forward and grow.

Grant's comment takes me back, and I'm finally at a place (emotionally) where I can do that and not completely fall apart. It truly IS a nightmare. Dealing with all this stuff. As Grant well knows, and is living this moment, his nightmare has become the nightmare of others, specifically, his wife. Over and over again, I'd be reminded by therapists, other men who struggled, other wives of strugglers, or even friends who knew nothing about the dynamics of same sex attraction and it's toll on a marriage; You didn't cause this. You can't fix this. You aren't the reason for this. You're doing the right thing. You're doing all you can. It's not about you.

While those things were true, right, good, and easy to comprehend intellectually, it was like taking an emotional enema. I always felt like all of ME had to to be gutted out so that I could intellectually respond correctly to a situation that ripped at the fiber of my emotions as a woman. Not trying to fix something actually becomes doing something when you have to work so hard not to do it. It was hell. That's the best English word I can think of to convey what that part of it was like. When I talk about that part of it, I'm talking about the sexual part. Looking back, I'm sort of amazed that I didn't drink more than I did. And while I know beyond a doubt that I used alcohol as a sort of sedative during much of that time, I can't say I ever developed an addiction to it. It's not something that appeals to me now at all. At least not in the way it did then.

And yet, there were so many things that I enjoyed about being married to Tdub. We had great rapport when it came to talking about things that interested us like movies, people at church, theological stuff. His brain had been programmed, it seemed to me, with Church of Christ doctrine (which doesn't really exists, btw hehe!) and my brain was constantly trying to figure out what it meant to really be a Christian. This made for some great discussions where we'd sometimes disagree but with a great deal of humor. We did the sorts of things together that keep couples together. But there was always this nagging issue, like a gnat that won't die, swirling around the boundaries of all our good times.

I will process more. Thank you Grant for your inspiration and encouragement. I've got mucho sewing to do. I'm working on some fund raising projects for Christmas money. I'll post some pictures later...maybe even later this evening.

Sparky is wonderful in his stubborn, impish, dachshund way. Having figured out that momee gives treats from the fridge (cut up cubes of spam) when he comes in when called from outside, he's now decided to bypass the outside step altogether. He will get my attention that he wants outside. I follow him as he prances down the little hallway to the back door. I open the door, and he turns and prances back down the hall and stops in front of the fridge with his tail wagging. Gotta love that!

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Thankful

2007-11-22T08:42:00.000-06:00

I'm thankful today for Sparky's near complete recovery.

I'm thankful for blog readers who are gracious enough to pray for a dog.

I'm thankful for four healthy sons. I much prefer the sorts of trials and tribulations they offer as healthy teens than what I'd be experiencing if one of them were fatally or chronically ill.

I'm thankful for my parents. I agree with them most of the time (not all), and they've taught me to be willfully graceful.

I'm thankful for the trials and tribulations of life that have drawn me closer to and made me more reliant on God.

Most of all, I'm thankful for the Holy Spirit, who lives and works in the here and now, through all sorts of people in all walks of life, and who comforts me continuously through those folks.

love and grace,
pam

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Still Recuperating

2007-11-14T20:49:00.000-06:00

Sparky is improved, but not fully. He is choosing to use the paper in the house instead of going outside. On a typical evening, I spoil him by allowing him to go in and out as much as he wishes. This usually amounts to about 17 million trips to the back door for me. He's gone out once this entire evening and has spent most of his time in his "me" space which I discovered once during a frantic search for him thinking he was lost. He retreats to the back of my little closet, under the hanging clothes, a few times a week. I think these are the days when dealing with Emma's high spirits have completely drained him of all emotional resource. Sparky is definitely an introvert, like me. Emma, on the other hand, is frisky and ready for a constant frolic this evening, having spent the entire day with a wounded co-hort. She is currently yelping at me in a high-pitched sort of girly dog scream because she's got more playin' do to before this day comes to a close. I may join Sparky in the "me" space before the night is over.

I do appreciate all your well wishes and prayers. Tomorrow is our last day before our Thanksgiving break, so I will be able to take him in to the vet if he is still mopey on Friday. I'll keep ya posted!

love and grace,
pam

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Pray for Sparky

2007-11-14T07:27:00.000-06:00

I feel sort of stupid asking this. I know there are children dying and hungry in third world countries. Sparky was attacked last night by a German shepherd. He has one gash about the size of the dime and another about half that size. My neighbor is a nurse and she looked at it and said he doesn't need stitches or anything, but you wouldn't believe the way he's moping around and refuses to go back outside. He's just not Sparky. He's been such a great friend to me and seen me through such a difficult time. I wish I could take him to school with me today, but that's not possible.

I'll post pictures later this afternoon, and I hope I come home to a much improved dog.

love and grace,
pam

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Making Headway

2007-11-12T09:24:00.000-06:00

Last Thursday's dinner was great. Both teenagers were here,(Senior Boy and Sophomore Girl) along with their art teacher and my friend, the veteran art teacher. I feel like I made some major headway in building trust with the teenagers so that they'll feel comfortable here in my home. My ultimate goal is to get them living in a clean place of their own that has a washer and dryer. The interim goal is for them to feel comfortable coming down to my house for dinner occasionally and to do their laundry. They are GOOD kids. My veteran art teacher friend is such a great resource for the kids as well as the first-year art teacher. Both teachers are going to continue to provide mentoring and resources for Senior Boy so that he can get into a good college art program next year.

Thanks for the prayers! I've got more to write but no time at the moment.

love and grace,
pam

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The Politics of Poverty

2007-11-08T07:36:00.000-06:00

My snazzy little pirate girl is seizing the day. She's living, loving, and laughing as if she wakes up covered in fairy dust each morning. She has become a joy to me and quickly stolen my heart like the daughter I've never had.

But, there's a glitch. Big brother and sister. Both high-schoolers and talented artists. It's the brother with the major issues concerning all the "help" I can provide. If I can ever crack him, the sister will follow. He views my help as a judgement on their current situation. And frankly, it is. The problem is, he's hanging on to poverty and uncleanliness like Linus hangs on to his blanket. Dad wants them to receive it and "gets" it. Yet, this kid.....he's a tough nut to crack, apparently. I've talked to him at length only once. He came down last Wednesday to view all the Halloween festivities. We had a great visit. Nothing was mentioned about ANY of the stuff going on with my helping them. I just spent the time getting to know him, talking a bit about art, and scaring some of the kids as they came up to trick-or-treat. He never let on that he was having so much trouble, and I was relieved to finally have the chance to meet him and know him.

I'm cooking a bit pot of spaghetti tonight and I've invited his art teacher (who he LOVES, and who, come to find out, has been trying to help as well) and another friend of mine who's a veteran and highly respected art teacher in this state. Pirate girl says dad is having to force the kids to come. Dad is invited to, but may not be able to make it. I'd appreciate any prayers you can wing up for me today.

love and grace,
pam

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