Action Talks and Bullshit Walks

Honestly, I am trying...When my task of thinning out North Carolina Garnet Sweet Potatoes with caffeine free breast milk is complete, I want to wax on about my thankfulness for a year complete in beautiful Wilmington or the hour of child like delight spent boogie boarding in a perfectly temped sea (sans child). The simple pleasure of my creamy coffee or the blessings I feel buying heirloom tomatoes on the Cape Fear River. But the god of this world rears his evil head and the suppressed angst pours out.

As America sits on the brink of bombing Syria and CNN's top story is Miley Cyrus' performance on an award show glorifying bad behavior and mediocre talent... I dig deep to extinguish the utter aggravation I feel towards our nation's state and mankind's participation in it.

You would have to be living in a dark, dank hole under a heavy rock to not see that US Foreign Policy in the Middle East is a disaster. Prior to the election, Obama assured us that he LOVED the Muslim people and because they in turn understood him, he would bring peace in our time. This surpasses all delusions. In truth, absolute carnage and blood fills the streets of Benghazi, Damascus, and now Cairo. The Muslim Brotherhood reigns and our heads are so buried in our phones or worse to take notice.

 I struggle to juggle my new found (baby centered) agenda and adjust the sails for my changing winds andI remain constant in the determination to shed some light on a world gone astray.

Here's an excerpt from: Obama's long list of broken promises...>>

{There was also Mr. Obama’s pledge to stop the rise of the oceans. (It hasn’t.) To “remake the world” and to “heal the planet.” (Hardly.) To usher in a “new beginning” based on “mutual respect” with the Arab and Islamic world and “help answer the call for a new dawn in the Middle East.” (Come again?) To punish Syria if it crossed the “red line” of using chemical weapons. (The “red line” was crossed earlier this year–and nothing of consequence happened.) That as president “I don’t bluff.” (See the previous sentence on Syria.) And of course the much-ballyhooed Russian reset. (Tensions between Russia and the United States are increasing and examples of Russia undermining U.S. interests are multiplying.)And let’s not forget Mr. Obama’s promise to bring us together. (He is the most polarizing president in the history of Gallup polling.) Or his assurance to us that he would put an end to the type of politics that “breeds division and conflict and cynicism.” (All three have increased during the Obama presidency.)}

A Sunday Sermon

"Yet you brought me out of the womb; you made me trust in you, even at my mother’s breast." 

Psalm 22:9

No man can improve upon which God designed. 

As I sit next to you while you indulge your appetite at your discretion, I will indulge my son's anywhere, anytime.

Preach on my friend!

We must stop these crazed half naked psychopaths from feeding their children...>>

The Wondrous Weed

Keep Calm and Carry On

"A woman giving birth to a child has pain because her time has come; but when her baby is born she forgets the anguish because of her joy that a child is born into the world." John 16:21

I read a recent blog post regarding the Duchess of Cambridge and its content pierced my heart in a way I would like to candidly and explicitly explain on mine.

After walking out of my Physical Therapist's office where I had an emotional release (scientific term for crying meltdown) after she manually unstuck my pelvis which was so misaligned that the tissue between my vagina and colon was having spasms so intense that my pelvic floor had seized up in protest of the pain. My uterus which is still sore is contracting at random and my breath so shallow as to keep my lower back stable from the ache of a cracked tailbone. The scar tissue incurred from a tear that pushing out a nine pound five ounce baby will bring says NO to penetration and my bulging hemorrhoids make a morning movement less than enjoyable.
Mind you, I've been in recovery from childbirth for five months. And I still have kangaroo's pouch.

In her first trimester, Kate Middleton suffered through months of hyperemesis gravidarum with intractable nausea in which she was hospitalized and fed an IV drip for her nourishment and the growing future Prince George. I know this because she did this under the watchful and preying eye of the world.

I laid naked on my couch in East Village in front of a window unit AC, vomiting every bit of my stomach contents (water and bile) into or onto whatever surface found in that moment's notice of nausea. I did this for twenty-one weeks. And not with grace.

Less than twenty-four hours after the delivery of another human being (no less a royal) in which she grew and carried among her adoring fans and brutal scoffers, the Duchess stepped into the face of public scrutiny, as a beaming beautiful new mum (in heels) and presented her new family with poise and style.

And what did the haters do?  They criticize her appearance.
Never mind praise the miraculous occurrence or honor her blessed experience.

So tonight I'll pour my drink a little stronger, cut off a hunk of  my Westminster Royal Addition Cheddar, and raise a glass from one strong mother to another.

Job well done!