The View from Here

I've seen a lot of this lately:

Our family will exit our car and as we're walking into wherever it is that we're going, my husband will grab my daughter's hand with Tobias and I trailing behind.

(No, I don't grasp onto Tobias's hand so that we, too, can walk in a similar manner. That would be very weird, even if he would allow it.)

So there I am, walking behind my man who is holding the hand of a younger and thinner version of myself.

Am I okay with that?

Absolutely.

I cherish them both so much and am overjoyed to witness their genuine adoration of each other.

Someday, I'll have my place back, walking hand in hand with my husband, but for now I gladly make room for my daughter. (Don't any of you other ladies get any ideas, though. ;) )

At thirteen, Delaney is only benefited by the attention of a caring, protective man who has no ulterior motives. His treatment of her is teaching her what she should expect from any man who desires her attention: respect, attentiveness, gentleness, appreciation.

I want her to compare what she has with her dad to what she has with every prince or jester who comes along and send the foolios packing.


Oh God, may she be ruined for any lesser loves.

The Volturi are After Me!

Well, they might be after this post.

Loving the idea of e-readers and how they are a complete library in the palm of one's hand, I recently checked a Kindle out at the library and happily brought it home.


While scrolling through the 45 + books stored in the nifty little device, I noticed that the Twilight Saga was included.

"Hmmm," I thought, selecting it. "Let's see what this teen literature phenomenon is all about."

I realize I am way late catching this train, but I've never been first in line for anything considered "cool" 'cause frankly, when it comes to trends...

I. Just. Don't. Care.

Up until this point, I've kept very quiet about the whole controversy of Twilight. Having looked like a complete idiot on more than one horrific occasion, I've learned to keep my mouth shut if I don't know anything about a topic.

(Side note: Hey Christians, I believe our demographic would have more credibility with the general populace if we educated ourselves about issues before we busted out our very strong opinions. Just a thought...)

But now, having finished Book 3 last night, I can tap out my take on the saga (or the first three books anyway).

The pros:

1. The vast majority of the story takes place in one of my favorite places on God's lusciously green and gorgeous earth...the Olympic Peninsula!

2. The plot was, in fact, interesting enough to keep me turning pages.

The cons:

1. Although there were some rather clever ideas, there were also some really cheesy ones like the whole skin-sparkling-in-the-sun-thing and how Jacob kept a pair of shorts handy. (I realize that the author had to explain somehow that he wasn't naked when he morphed back into human form from werewolf form, but are we expected to believe that a wolf is capable of bungee cording a pair of shorts onto his hind leg? It would have made more sense to dress the werewolf/boys in ultra stretchy shorts that would stay in place no matter what form their wearer was in. However, a pack of Spanx-clad wolves might not prove to be very intimidating. Hold on...am I actually thinking through what would be the most realistic clothing option for a werewolf? Let's move on, shall we?)

2. The sappy romance factor was way over the top. How many times can Edward's smouldering eyes bore into Bella's without the poor girl needing a double corneal transplant?

3. My biggest problem with the saga is how it could make young girls think about male/female relationships.

(To me, the fact that it involves vampires isn't particularly offensive. I mean, vampires are imaginary creatures on the level of the witch who wanted to eat Hansel and Gretel...



and Klingons...


In fact, the most vampiric thing that reality has to offer are guys like this:


Hmmm...feeling tempted to give up your humanity? Yeah, me neither.)

For example, when Bella finds out that Edward has been sneaking into her room at night to watch her sleep, her main reaction is embarrassment over what she may have said while talking in her sleep.

HELLO!

Homeboy's been sneaking into your room at night!!! How creepy and wrong is that??? It makes some voyeur hiding in the front yard's shrubbery with a pair of binoculars seem almost cute in comparison.

In chapter 20 of Book 3, Bella literally begs Edward to have sex with her. It's difficult for him, but he refuses. How grounded in reality is that?

Seriously!?!?

What's the likely outcome if a 15 year old Twi-hard tries that one on her boyfriend? A very few young men might pull a Joseph (Genesis 39:12) but what about the other 99.98%?

You might argue that Edward, although appearing as a 17 year old, is actually 108 and therefore annealed to his own desires by his maturity and life experience.

Ummm...let's take a cruise over to the nearest convalescent hospital. See Clarence over there in the corner? I think it's quite likely that (assuming his hearing aid is on) when Ethel starts pleading for physical satisfaction that he's going to make quite an effort to comply, 108 or not.

Possibly the most disturbing thing to me is how Bella entrusts her safety to this guy who admits that his strongest instincts are urging him to suck the life blood right out of her. He tells her regularly that he fears he's going to end up possibly killing her. Yet, because of her great love for him and his confessed adoration of her, she consistently sneaks off alone with him.

Sure, there aren't actually boys who want to drink the blood of our daughters (not many anyway) but the real boys surrounding them do have some other incredibly strong drives which can seriously damage girls' minds and bodies. (No, I'm not a misandrist, but I know enough males to know that even the good ones have to daily fight an arduous battle to keep their urges in check.) If girls apply Bella's reasoning to their own situation ("But he loves me!") they might be signing up for a whole truckload of sorrows.

Personally, I'm very glad that my daughter scoffs at this series and has no interest in reading it. In fact, she's probably going to be mortified if she finds out that I'm reading it.

There are a few other points I could harp on, but I think I've enraged both Teams Edward and Jacob enough for one day. Hopefully they'll be as gracious to me as Edward was when he found out that Bella made out with Jacob.

:)

A Solemn Tale

Let's talk about youth-in-asia.

No, not that kind.

The other kind. The kind that you have to think about long and hard before you make a decision and even after you decide you keep on thinking.

Euthanasia.

Yep, that's the one.

Two nights ago, Delaney and I were walking the dogs when Bruiser suddenly collapsed. His hind legs were awkwardly folded underneath him.

The maternal instincts in us both kicked in as we crooned and coddled. He just looked at us like, "Yeah, so I'm stuck in the middle of the road. So what?"

After several minutes of resting, he stood up and began to hop forward on three legs. We were far enough away from home that I knew that wasn't going to work, so I left Delaney holding his leash while Duncan and I dashed home so I could return with the car.

Getting him up into the car wasn't the easiest physical task of my day. (We're talking at least 80 pounds of dog here.)

Driving home I knew this was the end of Bruiser's walking days. His hind legs have bothered him for a long time now. (We could tell by the creaky, slow way he had of getting up from a laying down position. Yet he still got excited every time we got the leashes down from the nail where they hang in the garage.) But clearly, with his legs buckling during a leisurely stroll, things were different.

When we got home, we helped him out of the backseat and were deeply saddened to see him unable to bear weight on his left hind leg. He plunked down in the garage. I moved the water bowl within his reach and petted his big orange head.

At nearly 13 years of age, we knew his best years were far behind him and it would break our hearts to leave him behind every time we walked Duncan, so...

...yesterday we drove him to the vet for the last time. He hobbled from the car to the office door.

Without warning, he started dropping doggy bombs in front of the building while I was signing him in. (His bowels haven't had the best control in the past year or so. Good thing he was an outdoor dog.)

After awhile, they called us back to a private room and asked Jeff to put him up on the waist-high examination table. He looked so big on that thing. The four of us stood around him, talking to and petting him.

He was happy as ever, drooling all over the place and cocking his head at the sounds of other dogs going past the closed door in the hallway.

Jeff started to question if we were doing the right thing because Bruiser was still so alert and inquisitive. I reminded him that Bruiser's walking days were over, not just around the neighborhood but even to the food bowl, though I must confess that it was unsettling to know that this sweet lively creature was soon to be stilled forever.

Soon, the nurse (nurse?) came in and gave Bruiser a sedative. It took a few minutes to take effect, but once it did, we couldn't help but chuckle at the change in him. He was trippin' hard. I could almost hear him say, "Whoa, man. I'm tasting colors, man, and blue is faaaaaar out."

His head sank down to his front paws and he started slowly looking back and forth as if he was watching a very sluggish tennis match. Also, he was licking his lips, but he couldn't quite finish the job, so his tongue would hang slackly.

Soon though, they moved him completely on his side. He was so big that his head was partly over the edge. He had pretty much lost control of his mouth so his long old tongue was hanging half way to the floor, dripping a pool of drool onto the linoleum. That was hard to watch because it was so undignified that we felt genuinely badly for him. (Not that he ever had much dignity considering we caught him gobbling up turds on more than one occasion.)

The vet came in, shaved a bit of Bruiser's leg and stuck him with a needle, slowly injecting a pink liquid into him while we continued to pet him and talk to him.

He suddenly shuddered and then was still. The vet put her stethoscope to his chest and solemnly announced that he was gone. The two ladies left the room, telling us to take as much time as we wanted to say goodbye.

We stayed for a few more minutes, knowing that we'd never see him again. Tobias tried to close Bruiser's eyelids, though it didn't work. Delaney sniffled and talked about what a nice dog he had been.

And then we left.



Our Bruiser--
We will miss your floppy ear,
The white tip of your curly tail,
Your unusually orange coat,
The soulfulness of your beautiful brown eyes
And your deep resonating bark.
You were about as sharp as a marble
And your breath smelled like your insides were rotting,
But you were indeed a good boy
And we were happy to have you in our family for so many years.