There are some people who can get away with murder, and others, who no matter how hard they try to cover it up, get caught. There are misunderstood good people who do one naughty thing, and are beaten down and punished far worse than if they were the person always doing the bad things in life… Know what I mean? I would like to share a story of three boys who did a stupid thing and were hung for it (metaphorically speaking - of course). I personally think it was an overreaction - but I am not the big cheese making up the rules. The story begins….

It was Wednesday afternoon, just after lunch, and my students were hopping with excitement to get out of class and get on the soccer bus! It was an away game and they knew they had a damn good chance at winning - it was going to be a killer game! My Hard of Hearing student is an awesome soccer player and has been nicknamed “The Tank” because he knows how to use his big size to plow down the field. My Deaf student hasn’t had much experience and isn’t a bad player, but isn’t the best either. He often finds himself sitting the game out - if the coach wants to win, and feels that the other team might kick our asses, then he doesn’t put my Deaf student in. Ummm, it is high school JV soccer… but, at the same time I understand the desire to kick ass!

My students ran for the bus and I drove myself up to the opposing school - meeting them there. It was a nice warm day and there was adrenalin running through the blood of all the JV soccer players as they piled onto the metal bleachers to wait their turn - as Varsity was playing first. The JV boys were all over the place, going to their bathrooms to change into their uniforms, running all over the bleachers, running all around the bleachers, standing at the top of the bleachers watching the boys running around the bleachers, sitting doing some homework, and then there were two students just sitting together chatting. My two boys were at the top watching everyone run around. My Deaf student walked down to see what the two boys were doing that were sitting there talking (or whatever). I looked over and saw that they were writing on the bleachers, but the coach was standing right there so I figured they might have been writing on paper. They were probably writing a note to my Deaf student - normal activity and so I didn’t think twice about it. The JV team was called down to the field while Varsity played. We all migrated down to the field and set up JV camp. My students and the two boys who were sitting on the bleachers sat next to me. The one boy told me that they weren’t going play. When I asked, “Why not?!” He told me how the coach had caught them writing on the bleachers. The coach told them that was “it” and they would be kicked off the team as well. He told them to clean it up. The boys wrote in a felt tip marker on the metal bleachers - so it came right off. I asked what they wrote and they told me they each wrote, “I Love [girl's name]” and that my Deaf student did it too - he just didn’t get caught. I was a little shocked that the coach was freaking out over them proclaiming their love - and even after the boys rubbed it off! It seemed a little harsh, so I asked the coach what was going on. He told me it wasn’t just the proclaiming of love but a few gang signs as well. “Ohhh boys!” I sighed to myself. These boys are not gangsters - just young and stupid. There was nothing I could do, the coach had already reported them and a police report was being written up.

My student wasn’t caught and he was allowed to play in the game. I knew he wouldn’t write any gang slang, so I never told what I knew. They went on to kick the asses of the opposing team and our soccer teams went home happy! The next morning I met my students in class and my Deaf student was complaining about the pain in his back being more than he could handle. He wanted to go home and rest. I never try to force him to “stick it out” because he can’t focus when he’s not feeling good (which is hardly ever). I pulled him out of History and we walked down to the nurse’s office. While checking into the nurse the sports director of our school popped his head in and said, “I need to see him in my office as soon as you’re done here.” and he was gone. No smile, no, “Hi, how are you guys.” nothing…. This couldn’t be good. Then I remembered the ordeal with the other two boys writing on the bleachers - he probably wanted to know if my student saw who wrote the gang stuff. I signed that it was fine as I lead him into the guys office. One of the vice-principals was standing there greeting us in… I suddenly got a bad feeling.

They took my student’s backpack and started pulling everything out! The principal told us to have a seat, which meant that this was deep trouble and we’d be there a while. Even though I’m just the interpreter, I felt just as bad as my student did. As we sat there, hearts pounding, the questions were coming fast and with judgment. We watched as everything came out of his backpack and was throughly searched for evidence of gang tagging. My student, of course, had nothing and I really wasn’t worried that they would find anything. Then, on the back of the last page in a notebook the sports director found a note. He ripped it out and handed everything back to my student - everything but the note. He says, “Okay, here we go.” Looks at my student and asks, “Who’s Viola?” BOOM! Did someone slap my face? I took a deep breath and interpreted what he asked. My student points to me and I translate that the Viola he was asking about is me. I was a little insulted that this guy I work with doesn’t even know my name. He looks at me and nods, whatever that meant folded the paper and handed it to the principal to have a looksee. The sports director then asked my student what he did, and my student told him the truth. That he wrote “I Love [a girls name]” and that was it. The problem these guys were having was that the other boy they had already talked to said that my student and the third boy were the ones who wrote the gang stuff. My student said that the other boys were at fault. Here we have a problem and I think for the most part these two men want to believe that my student is telling the truth, but without any kind of proof… everyone must pay. The two men “stepped out” for a moment to talk about it. I looked at my student and every inch of me was screaming to grab him and hug him! Tell him that everything was going to be all right and not to worry. I couldn’t do that because my ears picked up what the two men were talking about out in the hall, and I knew his fate - and it wasn’t good.

Three boys with similar but different stories ended up all paying the same price of being kicked off the soccer team, plus a three-day suspension. As I was forced to interpret this to my student with a straight face - I was being crushed inside. Tears filled his eyes and he couldn’t hold back as a flow of emotion came pouring out. He repeated over and over again, “I am not a gang member.” The three adults sat there in silence as my student sat there with his head down and the sounds of a broken heart filling the air. The sports director broke the silence as he picked up the phone and called my student’s parents to come pick him up…

For three days my student was suspended from school and kicked off the soccer team all because he wrote “I Love [girls name].”‘ on a bleacher with an erasable marker… Justice?

I am reading this book, “Mommy Knows Worst” by James Lileks. It’s funny, scary and connects a very powerful lesson between the past and now that we have not figured out as a society. James pokes fun at the bizzare and far-out things parents used to do to their children. Reading through, I wonder what parents must have been thinking to figure these were good ideas! One of the main points was to boil everything! Just boil it and everything will be perfect. Fresh air is another point people of the past blew up and made into a life or death situation. I agree that fresh air is awesome and important to life - but there’s a limit. Folks of the past went as far as to build a box that fits in your window (the box was hanging out like a small a/c unit) to place your child in to sleep! Rain, snow, sleet or shine! They had some crazy ideas for how children should be raised… oh boy! The number one DO NOT DO was pick-up baby!!! Oh my god - don’t want to damage the internal organs or cause the spine to bend! You’ll kill your child if you manhandle him/her by picking up them up! NO wonder we have mental illness plaguing this nation - you were taught not only to fight your own natural instincts as parents, but also from birth babies were taught that they didn’t matter and were not important.

The forgotten lesson is that we get a “good idea”, then judge others harshly for not following the same “good idea.” The weak will follow because they have no clue what to do and need a leader, or they have no balls and won’t cowboy up and stand up for what they believe in. I don’t follow the popular crowd in my parenting skills or style - I follow my basic instinct. I worry about my own judgement and if I feel it’s a good or bad idea. Scott and I brought home baby and realized pretty fast the “old way” and the “book way” was not the way for us - as a family. We stopped freaking out and relaxed, letting nature guide the way. We lean towards the “Attachment Parenting” style of parenting - it seems to fit us.

I was always judged as a person with a disability, no one ever taking the time to ask questions and educate themselves more about what it was I had and how it affects me. They jumped to what they wanted to believe, and it was the simplest answer - she walks funny therefore she must be retarded! Stamp! I find that as a mother I am also judged, maybe even harsher. I cannot do much correct in the face of others - and let me just start off by saying that I really don’t give a damn what others think of my parenting style! I have my ways and I don’t point out other parents and judge them blindly by how they parent. I don’t get people and why they have to walk through life with blinders on and the mindset of always being right. I do not think my parenting style is wrong - but you may, and that’s ok. Just keep your damn mouth shut and we’ll all be fine. I try to do all the “good” things for my little fella - I follow my heart. How could people sit there and call judgement upon me without knowing my reasons for things? You can’t - pure and simple. I am not going to freak out and yell at you about it being none of your busness - I will try and explain it to you. If you want to debate - fine, I’ll debate. I have drifted off the main topic just a little - but I am so sick and tired of being judged!

Society is what makes us and breaks us - this is common knowledge. Why is it that we have to pick others apart, degrade them, chew them up and spit them out into the trash? It’s nothing new and for all of time we have judged mothers for everything they might be doing wrong in our eyes. Parents of the past (and present) should have listened to themselves and their hearts and not what the latest cool magazine/book was preaching to do, “You’ll kill your baby if you pick him/her up!” I can see Ethel calling all her girl-friends to spread the latest news. James Lileks wrote that the G.I.s over in the war (WWII) had a higher survival rate than the babies born here in the U.S. How sad is that? The answer is always inside of you - there have been parents from the beginning of time. We need to trust that we have these answers within ourselves - to a limit. *wink* A new mother should just let her body and the baby guide the way - and no matter how much work is involved - it’s worth it! Respect other parents - if they look like they care and are doing what they think is best… well, they probably are. Shut up and respect them! Stop judging others - you don’t like it when it’s done to you!

Hello there, I am typing from my Mac Mini - ohhh. Scott is a PC man married to Bill Gates and in love wih Microsoft. Last year Scott had a secret affair with Apple and became the happy father of a Mac Mini. It’s so cute! While at dinner, the other night, Scott mentioned that he had not really gotten to know his little Mac Mini and it was already time to retire it as the new and improved Minis were getting ready to be relased. I had asked were the Mac Mini was, and when he told me it was sitting in the box - I demanded that he bring it home and set it up for me. I am now the proud foster parent of a Mac Mini. It is not completely mine - as much as I wish it were. It belongs to Scott’s work and the only reason I get to play with it is because Scott needs to learn the ways of the Mac. Scott is more likely to figure it out here at home then he would at work. I figured by hooking it up and having it replace my PC Scott would be over here playing with it all the time. I am the question person, “Scott, how do I do this?” “Scott, why is it doing that?” “Scott, it won’t work!” Therefore Scott is being forced to figure out the Mac.

I am falling in love with the Mac - I don’t know if that is a good thing or a bad thing…? It would be nice to be savvy (however savvy I can be) in both the Macs and the PCs. I for sure like them both - and why not have the best of both worlds? I could buy a Mac for my home computer and then have my laptop be the PC… Sounds like a good idea if you ask me. *giggle* For now I am going to try and figure out the Mini - it’s so damn cute!!! I would love tips if anyone reading is a Mac owner. I really dig the iChat - it’s groovalicious!

Over Labor Day weekend we took the high road and drove over to Sacramento - Roseville actually. While passing a ton of traffic travelling in the opposite direction, Sammy amused us all (Scott, my mother, our niece Keirra and myself) by mimicing a shrunken head on a computer game we play. It says something like, “Dim-a-dim-boo-do!” and then bursts into flames. Sammy simulates this with a sweeping hand upwards in front of his face. (Don’t worry folks - I really doubt Sammy is going to mimic “Jack-ass” with a fiery stunt.) We arrived in Roseville around seven in the evening and headed right over to our Best Western Inn - threw our stuff into our room and dashed over to the Old Spaghetti Factory - yum!

Our purpose for the trip was to visit family I haven’t seen in forever, and to take a nice trip to the Sacramento Zoo. Friday night was mostly driving and eating - we stopped by my aunt’s house to say, “Hi, we’re here!” and pick up some extremely yummy home-made peanut butter cookies - back off, they’re mine! *growl*

Saturday morning we didn’t wake up as bright and early as we would have liked, but sleep seemed to be more important. It was still an early rise and shine as one by one we got up and got ready to head out for a day at the zoo! My mother did not want to take the zoo on, so she stayed behind in Roseville with her big sister. The day was hot and sticky - but the zoo made it worth it. Sammy picked the jeep safari stroller and we were off to explore the unknown… We came upon two of the most feared creatures in the animal kingdom - snakes! Yes, I let Sammy pet them!

I think snakes are awesome creatures and I would own one - if I didn’t have to feed it other live (or frozen) animals. We petted the cute little snakes and moved on to the singing monkey - it had a beautiful voice! It probably wasn’t a “monkey” but it was a cousin. We saw a few more animals at a little show they put on - corny, but cute. It was funny because the zoologist’s name was “Sam.” Our Sammy was channeling the monkeys as he jumped, ran around and screamed during the whole show… yeah. After the show the kids got to make some groovy butterflies out of coffee filters, clothespins, markers and a little water.

We made our way around to see the large cats, and they all seemed to be taking a siesta. We saw the sleeping tiger and thought we might get a lucky view from a little windowed landing behind where the tiger was sleeping. We got over to the window and couldn’t see the tiger, and just as we were going to give up, the tiger got up and walked past us, around and out of sight again. I had Sammy standing on the ledge with his face pressed up against the glass looking for the tiger, and we started to figure it had found another cozy spot and went back to sleep. I was just tightening my hold around my tiny little fella when all of a sudden the enormous tiger’s head was nose to nose with Sammy! The tiger paused there and Sammy’s body tightened as they looked into each other’s eyes.

My basic instinct was to snatch Sammy away from the window - protecting my young. I was quick to realize that it was not only an awesome moment in Sammy’s little life, but there was a thick window between the two of them. Had Sammy moved or motioned that he was uncomfortable - I would have had him tight and safe within my embrace and away from the giant face staring at him. The moment Sammy and the tiger shared was breathtaking and I hope that whatever held them locked in each other’s gaze will follow Sammy always and stay deep within his heart forever. The tiger finally broke away, mostly because a wave of children came smashing to the window to see the tiger, and he laid back down to finish his afternoon nap. I believe strongly in fate and I feel Sammy was meant to be standing at that window all alone right then and there - and who knows, maybe the future will answer why?

The tiger was the most exciting part of our day, but the angry monkey was the most interesting. Guys - this one is for you! There is this angry monkey who sits in a cage, all alone, in a tree and yells at people.

I can’t blame him, I’d be angry all locked up and people gawking at me all day. This time we found the angry monkey in a heated battle of power with a young man and his friend. The guys were copying the actions of the monkey - like when the monkey yelled and hit his head, the young man yelled and hit his head. There was a point where the monkey won though, the young man was forced to give up and walk away with his head down. It was the monkey’s move, he looked around and knew what he needed to do to show this punk that he had better back off! The monkey grabbed his (oddly) pointed penis and showed the boys just how big he was! I stood there for a moment in a daze listening to the boy laugh hysterically. I turned to view a woman’s tonsils as she laughed so hard she couldn’t breathe. I just kept thinking this isn’t all that funny - but as I replayed the scene in my head I laughed, because it was indeed funny! We left the angry monkey who was all beefed up and ready to make the young man his bitch and moved on to the chimps…

Yeah, here we go again. The chimps were in a bathing mood and they decided to show us just how they groom each others butts. What was more comical was when the angry monkey guys walked up just in time to see the butt-picking chimps! The one young man turned to the other and said, “What’s going on with the monkeys today?” and then the young man, who was challenging the angry monkey, said to his friend, “Bend over.”

Yeah, we had fun at the zoo…

We went accross the street, after hitting the souvenir shop first - of course - to the Fairy Tale Town. This a fun place and only costs $3 more to add Fairy Tale Town to our trip to the zoo. This is a place where the children can let go and have fun! They can run around and act like the little monkeys that they are! It was only about an hour in Fairy Tale Town, but it was an hour packed with non-stop movement! They ran the “crooked mile” five or six times without stopping - it was an hour loaded with energy release. *yay* When it was time to go, the children gave a small fight to stay but didn’t really go to war with us. The park was open for another hour, and we could have stayed longer had they really wanted to, but like I said it was small and I think they were ready. Sammy was out (asleep) before we got onto the freeway… Little fella!

On Sunday we followed my aunt and uncle over to where one of my cousins works - just to say a quick hello. I have no idea when I had seen her the last time - but she is a lot older than me and we never really spent any time in the same room. My mother was connected with her and it was more of a reunion for them. After that we followed my aunt over to her youngest daughter’s house in ElDorado Hills. Meirve is eight years older than me, and was my personal hero growing up. We never spent much time together growing up, but I heard awesome stories of her through our grandmother. I had not seen her since I was 17 years old - fifteen years!

My aunt had five children - four girls and one boy. I was closest to the boy, with whom I had spent the most time, and he always treated me with love and respect. He was the youngest of the five and he was great! Sadly his life ended way too early due to diabetes. He’ll always be the best! My aunt’s oldest is the “problem” child and I have always disliked her with great and personal passion (that story’s not for this blog). Meirve became my ultimate hero when she smacked her older sister in the face… or so I believed. It turned out that it never really happened, but I didn’t find this out until I had brunch with her this month! I had only heard the “smack” story through the bellowing sobs of the older sister, who was telling on Meirve to my mother. I remember seeing the clouds part and the bright light of heaven open up as I imagined Meirve’s hand flying through the air, sharply and quickly coming in contact with her sister’s face. Then I imagined the doof look on my oldest cousin’s face as she probably grabbed her cheek (as if kissed by someone special and she was never going to wash that spot again) and ran off like the cowardly chicken that she is. My heart broke a little as Meirve told me what “really” happened. But if it’s okay with Meirve, I am just going to believe the “slap” story with a smile in my heart.

It was so much fun sitting around chatting with the cousin I had admired from afar for so long. Now, we both have children and are married to computer techs. Her girls are so beautiful, and Sammy and Keirra (second cousins) had a blast with them! I cannot wait to see them again!!

The weekend was soon over. Monday, my mother spent some last minute time with her sister and brother-in-law while Scott and I took the kids to a local park. It seemed like every woman there, at the park, was pregnant. I was careful not to drink the water.

It was nice visiting with family - I always dreamed of a big happy family… I just never got one. I hope that Meirve and I can change the course of our family history and bring our lives together. I will probably never really get the large extended famiy I dreamed of once upon a time, but maybe I have a second chance at a small one.

Sammy was wasted by the time we piled into the car for the short two-hour ride home - again traveling in the opposite direction of the traffic. He passed out and slept the whole ride home. We stopped at the lake for a yummy bite at Sam’s Beach House - a kid-friendly place at Round Hill (Lake Tahoe). We got home and slipped into bed, happy memories of the weekend running through my head. I looked at Sam and said, “Good night my little monkey boy.”