Three Random Things

So, there have been three things about my son over the past month that keep popping up in my head. They are totally random other than the part that they all relate to my son. They are also seemingly not a big deal but rather a prime example of how I can over-think  over-analyze and otherwise keep my chatter going at 300 mph just for the sake of staying insane. Oh, and for the sake of always trying to find meaning even in the tiniest of things. So, I thought I would share, because what else am I to do with it all but dump it out for you to read!?

1. I recently accepted that my "perfect" little baby has officially entered his terrible toddler years. I say "years" because I learned the hard with with my daughter that the terrible two's are not just a year long insanity trip but the start of my journey to the insane asylum.

My always smiling, sweet boy has discovered the word "NO" and likes to use it a lot. He also has discovered that dramatically throwing himself on the ground, screaming and kicking, when he doesn't get his way is part of the master plan to drive mommy bat shit crazy before she reaches 40. Thankfully I started scheduling appointments around preschool time so big sis was at school during his most ridiculous fit yet.

He thought he was getting a treat after his well check because he has just been there with dad the weekend before for blood work and daddy treated them to Starbucks cake pops after getting their arms jabbed with needles. He climbed into the highchair as I waited for my coffee and sat so nicely. Unfortunately it was the morning so there were no cake pops yet and nothing that would really work as a treat on the fly. I offered lots of other cool things like watching Barney in the car, his music shaker and going or a walk. I said "NO" and shook his head to all of the above. So, I wrestled him out of the highchair and started my trek to the car with my hot coffee in one hand and my purse, little lunch bag for milk and him on the other arm kicking, throwing himself back and screaming no, no, no.

All I could do was laugh as everyone who walked by gave that, oh you poor thing look of better you than me. We stopped four times so I wouldn't drop him on his head. Who am I kidding, I just didn't want to spill my precious coffee! He'd lay on the ground kicking while I readjusted all my crap and off we'd go again. It sounds awful but it really was pretty comical. Now, if it was my daughter acting like that I would have lost my mind and been all pissed off the rest of the day. That's that favorite child thing I guess. Or maybe this yoga stuff is working. Either way, we survived the boys most hellacious tantrum in public to date. Yay me. And once again I have confirmed my perfect baby boy is growing up and my dream of him skipping this oh so fun stage has 110% been squashed.

End of a tantrum. Can you see his black eye?
See #2 about that!

2. The boy has had many nicknames since his birth. My husband has this thing for making up crazy names or words. Some have included C-love and C-money. Bubs, Lubs (as in a combo of Bub and Caleb) were common too and one I hated from Grandpop was KK. But it seems one has finally stuck. Lumpers. Sometimes it's "Lumpy" but yes, I said Lumpers. As in lump. As in, this kid knocks his head off something daily and always has some sort of lump on his big ol' noggin. Aside from his already lumpy noggin which is how a derivative of this nickname originated when he was an infant.

He often has some assistance from his sister in obtaining his daily lumps. Most recently, he ended up with a lump on the head, and a black eye to go with it, in the 5 minutes it took me to get dressed. I still have no idea what happened. Five days later at his well check discussed above, his doctor checked around his eye bones, presumably for a skull fracture! Good grief. I worry every week that his preschool teachers are going to think we abuse this poor kid! Ironically, it's Rylie, who "lumps him up" as Daddy calls it, is the reason this nickname has now stuck. His sister calls him lumpers all day long. I say "Good morning, Caleb". She says, "Morning Lumpers!" When she plays with him I hear her say, "Here you go, Lumpers". "Want to play with my, Lumpers", etc.  She informed her teacher yesterday, "That's Lumpers!" She asks me if Lumpers is up from nap yet. So on and so on.

It's funny because when deciding on our kids names we considered if their their initials would spell/represent anything funky, like HGH for example, which is one reason we didn't go with Grace for Rylie's middle name. We considered possible nicknames family, teachers and friends could come up with that might make one might say, why on earth would you name your kid that, do you hate them?! What does my Caleb become? Freakin' Lumpers. It sounds like a boxers nick name. Or what you might call a street kid who uses his fists to solve problems instead of his words! Meanwhile, it's his sister who knocks the crap out of him each day. Oy!

So, I of course over-think it and wonder if it could lead to bad this down the line. Especially since his daddy used to have no qualms about using his fists back in the day. Will people think the wrong thing about this sweet little boy and will that transform him into not being so sweet? I mean seriously, what sort of sweet kid has the nickname LUMPERS growing up?! Ok, enough of my overthinking mommy freak out over something as silly as a nickname. You get it, right?

We still have no idea how he got this one!

"best" lump yet.
Compliments of big sister

3. Moving on. This one is the least significant of them all yet has the most meaning to me. The boy is without a doubt left handed. While I know it's not really solidified until about 5 years he has been predominately left handed his he started using his hands with purpose. I would set the fork down in front of him to test it and even put it towards his right hand, which he would simply switch after the first bite or so. I've watched him climb stairs, which is supposed to be more of an indication at this age than his hands and more often than not he goes left foot first.

I personally think it cool. While it's not exactly unique, it does make him a bit different than the average Joe and I like different. It's also not very surprising. Everyone in Craig's immediate family is left handed, or was before someone forced them to switch as a kid. But the part that makes me love this about him is that my Pap was left handed. If you have Yahrzeit (click to read) then you know why this means so much to me.

As I learn more about yoga and concepts like reincarnation creep in, which I read about many years back when I was really into different religions, it makes me wonder about this seemingly little thing of Caleb being left handed. This might be a bit much for you, but I like to think that when my Pap passed just a few months after Caleb was born, a part of his spirit stuck around and now shines through in my little boy. The nurses let us sneak the kids in to say goodbye to him and he kissed his great grandson and held his hand just hours before leaving this world. So maybe, just maybe.


Now, I honestly don't know if that's how reincarnation even works! Yes, of course I know hand dominance is genetic based, like most things, and that such genes are formed long before birth. And yes, yes, he easily could have gotten this left handed thing from his daddy too BUT, as I said, I like this idea. This idea that it's my Pap's presence is beautiful to me. It's like the connection I always felt to my grandma through my inability to describe why I always knew I was a Jew, in more than the ethnicity part of it. I smile as I think that something as simple as having to always consider where Caleb will sit during holiday meals will forever keep my Pap's spirit at our Thanksgiving table. It's that same feeling I get when I light the Shabbat candles and I feel the presence of my grandma lighting them with her mom as a kid and then with her kids.

Pap holding Caleb at his Bris,
about 3 & 1/2 months before
he passed.

This thought of my Pap's presence always being here brings joy and peace to my heart. It's something I can share with Caleb as he grows up, so he can know my Pap even though he's no longer here. He isn't just tied to him because we named him the Sandik at his Bris, my Pap is a part of him, always. Whether this is why he is left handed or not, like anything a person believes, it's simply a matter of believing it in your heart that makes it true or not. And this is what I choose to believe.

As I have said so many times before, I always look for meaning in even the seemingly smallest or insignificant things. I over-think and over-analyze but sometimes it helps me, like this time.



Like I said, three random things with just my son as the common denominator!!

Mind and Body, Body and Mind

Wow! It feels like ages since I sat down to write. I've needed to but I just can't seem to find the time. I actually don't really have it now but I'm choosing to write anyway, for me.... to help me focus. And for you of course, but I'm not sure if this one will resonate with you all as much as some others have. I hope you can take something from it though.

My head is spinning with thoughts and revelations, ah-ha moments and quite simply lots of information. Almost too much information. I get excited, super pumped actually, like when I would start a new class in college or grad school and my mind would take off like I siphoned red bull right to my brain. I start to get all sorts of grand ideas and run away with them in my head, the possibilities seem endless and it's like the world looks new again. Then I become overwhelmed by it all and get a bit stressed. And round and round we go!   My yoga teacher training has been quite a whirlwind.

My big ah-ha moment came in class this week when discussing how to deal with the often intense emotions that can be forced out during a yoga practice. I nearly fell out of my chair! I had never told anyone that I get an overwhelming sense to cry during my practice at times. And here were were discussing how to deal with this, and other intense emotions, when they arise in one of our classes. Not only is it common but it's expected. I'm not crazy, hallelujah!

I'll admit, I never really delved into what yoga is really all about until I started my teacher training. I did my own practice for sometime and then went to classes for many years. I often had extended hiatuses from the comforts and joy my mat brings me but I always found my way back. Sort of like my faith, it called to me, it was in me. As I said, the actual poses came very naturally to me so I was just psyched I was so good at something without really trying all that hard. Oh my, oh my, not only do the poses go so far beyond what my mind can even comprehend my body ever being able to do but the poses aren't even a fraction of what yoga is really all about! See why my head is spinning? And there's more, much more.

I'm a bit behind the others in my class on this revelation, but I'm catching up fast. Well, it's more like putting the pieces together then catching up. I've always been a believer. I believe in a holistic approach to things. Even as a therapist this was my approach. A systemic approach to healing, not piece by piece, which to me doesn't repair the bigger issues but simply puts lots of bandaids on things, leaving you vulnerable. The mind and body are infinitely intertwined in how one effects the other and this has been proven to me time and time again. Though I'm always learning just how profound this connection is.

For example, I recently came to the realization that massage therapy is actually therapy. It turns out all my pains are a result of my stress and anger and anxiety which essentially builds up all sort of "junk" in my body.  That junk started to settle in and cause pain, specifically in my shoulders and a bit in my hips at times. The "junk" has a more medical term but for the sake of blogging, I figured junk works and it's what my massage therapist likes to call it too. Anyway, limiting and reducing the pain in my body has made a remarkable impact on my mental health. Go figure. Massage and my asana yoga practice help deal with all the physical junk which in turn helps my emotional junk and the wheels on the bus go round and round.

Well, the pains came back. The chiropractor helps some but it's the massages that really do the trick. And now, my yoga training has enlightened me to the marvels of essential oils. They make so much sense in this holistic approach to life I think is important. The sense of smell is powerful. It can conjure up memories of childhood, life events, happiness, sadness and every other emotion on the spectrum. If you think about it, many people who don't put up Christmas trees still buy evergreen scented candles, people who don't bake, may use an apple spice or pumpkin scent, and so on. Scents conjure up memories which can release deep emotions and deep emotions impact  well, everything. They can make or break us. Not only that, but the things in nature these oils are extracted from are there for a reason. Everything really is here for some reason or another, whether it's a food source, to provide oxygen, to cure us, everything exists and is dependent upon one another for all of our survival.

Oils go way back. You hear about them in the Bible. Some people may start there but for those who don't, like me, the people from biblical days got the ideas for their use from somewhere. Thus, oils go way, way back. And in many ways, people from way, way back were a heck of a lot smarter than we are today. Not in every way, of course, but they definitely got the whole everything in the world is connected and here for a reason piece of things. Oils cured ailments long before modern medicine and for many they still do today. So, I am starting to add these oils to my healing and life improvement box and hopefully they can help my mental state so the "junk" doesn't keep coming back. And maybe, just maybe, I can not only be pain free but free myself from this anger I often talk about here as well.

The way I see it, I need to do something. Something more. Some might think, oils, really? Why not just leave. Well, I feel that is the absolute last resort. Maybe it'll be necessary at some point, but until that day I can't live like this. Recently, I started wondering if all the frustration and anger I feel so often over my husband's alcoholism is changing me. If it has changed me. I worry this change might be permanent. I have to do something. Mood stabilizers might work in the way their name implies, stabilize my every changing mood, but it's one of those bandaids really. If my anger is actually changing me, my brain, by body, whatever, then I need something that can bring me back to me. I need something to jolt me back in that moment when the situation makes me lose my freakin' mind. And something that can stop the subsequent spiraling of everything making me lose my mind.

Some might think this natural medicine and holistic approach is silly business. Don't get me wrong, I'm not on some la-la-lu cloud or believe that everything about westernized medicine and pharmaceuticals can be likened to some evil empire. Some of it can be though. Bottom line, this is 2012 and I am well aware of the wonderful advances of modern medicine. We as humans have done remarkable things that enable us to not only cure but we have medicines that can provide people with a quality of life that generations of past didn't even dream of. I simply don't think everything is necessary and try to me mindful of what I'm putting in my body and why. That said, I happily accepted that handful of Xanax the doctor gave me this week, but for emergency use only. While I think all those momma's who do home births or go to a birthing center and use a midwife and/or doula are inspiring women, I will always consider an epidural to be my best friend. I'm a big ol' baby when it comes to pain and see no reason to be in pain if one doesn't have to be. I won't even suffer through a headache. I have too much to do and being in pain is quite frankly no fun for anyone, especially not with two loud little ones running circles around me. But, a pill will not fix this situation for me.

A pill won't take away my anger. The way I view things can. The physical practice of yoga can. Taking care of my body can. Being mindful of how I think and what I think and just being can. Being still. Being still in my thoughts can help bring me back to me. And some therapeutic massage and oils can only help in this process. I find the combination of the ways of our ancestors with the ability God gave us as humans to evolve, and use our past to transform things to work for us today, to be a blessing. Blessings don't always just appear before us, we have to be open to them, open minded to all the world has to offer. I for one will not give up or accept things as they are. I'll search and fight and try anything that can work to help make this one life we get as fulfilling as it can possibly be. One thing I know for sure, anger does not pave the way to a fulfilling life.

So, I'll keep on my yogi path. I'll keep learning and growing. It's a path that is more immense than I ever imagined yet so simple in many ways. When you make everything more simple well, everything just becomes easier. Profound, I know.

I am... 2.0

So, I tried this yesterday and realized after I read about 20 others that I was REALLY down on myself. Since the "rules" of this self love exercise are no editing and proofreading I felt I owed it to myself to sit for 5 minutes today and write a 2.0 version. It's the least I could do for ME, right? The, "I suck" one is still available, deleting would be editing of course, but you can ignore it. I'm thinking I might do this once each week. Just for the much needed morale boost I so often need!

I got this idea yesterday from You Know it Happens at Your House Too but as I clicked through links to other blogs I saw an origination point at Jana's Thinking Place and many "I am" posts at the end of hers. Click the picture to read....

I hope, whether you have a blog or not, you will try it out and post your response in my comments! It's actually quite therapeutic, which is what this little blog is all about :)

The rules are pretty straight forward....
1. Set your timer for 5 minutes. I'm good setting timers in this house for the many time outs experienced daily!
2. As I said, no proofreading, editing, etc. I'll be honest though, I'm going to cheat just a bit because I suck at spelling and can't deal with mucho spelling errors in one of my posts. I'll get all sorts of anxiety and end up proofing it and editing it altogether and being a big rule breaker so just a quick spell, I won't edit. Promise.
3. Post it somewhere, somewhere just as a reminder for you is great, but I of course would prefer you post it right here and share it with us!
Oh, you can write an into, obviously not part of the time limit :)

K. Got it? My timer is ready. Nope, wait, daughter just snagged my phone.

Ok, now we are set.....

I am a mom. It's the hardest thing I've ever done but boy do my kids bring me such joy.

I am a wife.

I am a daughter. My mom is my best friend and the one person in my life I can always count on.

I am a friend. If you're my friend, my true friend, I would do anything for you. I may not talk to my true friends often but they are always in my heart.

I am loyal to the people and things I love.

I am passionate and will fight with all I have and yell from the mountaintops if I feel an injustice has occurred

I am compassionate and feel empathy for everything, even those nasty little spiders I squash or the sad faces of the opposing team losing.

I am a proud Penn Stater.

I am a person who believes if you set your mind to something you can do anything. Or nearly anything. I overcame an eating disorder as a teenager and have never looked back.

I am someone who gets angry easily but I am working on it everyday.

I am a yogi.

I am a Jew.

I am a dreamer and a thinker but given the chance I will do whatever it takes to put those dreams and thoughts into action

I am always striving to be a better me. It's what I think life is all about.

7 seconds left, yikes.... I am growing. An old motto from recovery days... I am free to be ME!

Your turn! And yes. I am definitely going to make this a weekly thing. No, I won't fill my blog up with 3.0 and 4.0 I Am posts but this is too wonderful. We must love ourselves if we are to love others or be loved.

I Am......

I just wrote to you all yesterday. One from the heart that I put all my emotion into so I had planned to take a little break. BUT I came across this little self love challenge and well, I'm always up for a challenge, especially when it can help me on this little quest of constant self improvement.

I got this idea from You Know it Happens at Your House Too but if you start clicking through the links you'll find this has been a wonderful pass it forward sort of thing so I hope, whether you have a blog or not, you will try it out and post your response in my comments!

The rules it seems are to set your timer. I'm good at that as we have a lot of time outs in this house. There is also to be no proofreading, editing, etc. I'll be honest, I'm going to cheat just a bit there but only on the spelling, I won't edit. Promise.

Ready, set, go.....

I am an AWFUL speller. Thus my cheating. Which I often did to pass spelling tests as a child. Probably why I suck at spelling.

I am a mother. I often feel I'm not a great mother. Certainly not the mom I thought I'd be. BUT I try to be better each day and some days I do a pretty darn good job.

I am a wife. If you read my blog then you know I'm not always the best wife and my marriage has its issues. Moving on...

I am a daughter. My mom is my best friend. The one person I can ALWAYS count on.

I am loyal. I wasn't always.

I am a good friend but lately have slacked in friend duties and can't remember the last time I spoke to many of the friends I hold in my heart. I need to be better at that.

I am a yogi. At least I try. I'm great at the physical practice. A work in progress on the rest.

I am a person who loves people and always strives to see the best in everyone. Sometimes this can be a fault but I love it about myself.

I am passionate. There are things I believe in strongly and I fight for them with all I got.

I am a Penn Stater. Always and forever.

de-de-de-de-de-de-dede, de-de-de-de-de-de-dede. That would be my phone alarm :) So I am done.

Post your I AM..... below. Would love to know you are even if I already do!


PS- I just did my cheating thing and NO spelling errors!! AWESOME. yay me!

PPS- not many of you saw/read this. That's good. I didn't live up to this challenge very well. Some self love! I was such a Debbie downer, geesh. It's been a week. Wait, it's only Wednesday. Yeah, exactly. Anyway, check back for my 2.0 version tomorrow! I think this is a perfect thing to do everyday for oneself...no worries, I won't post one everyday! Night all.

To Believe Them or Not

I'm one of those people who is always searching for the good that can come out of horrific situations. Sometimes even desperately trying to find the meaning of it all. If you're a regular visitor to my little blog here then you've read this before, you've seen the positives I can derive from otherwise tragic events. It's sort of my way of understanding the evils and sadness of our world, without needing a straitjacket to cope with it all!

We are quickly approaching a year since we learned who our once local hero, highly respected, fun-loving, family man and humanitarian whose efforts to help the underprivileged youth of our state would rival the likes of Mother Teresa, really was. I continue to peel away each layer of intense emotion that continues to engulf hundreds of thousands of us in the aftermath of learning of the horrific acts Jerry Sandusky committed. As such, I have tried to focus more on the good that can come of this, because to me, that's the only way for a community to heal, is to find the good and run with it. 

A brief time out.... 

If you are questioning how I can feel so intensely and take it so personally or maybe think I shouldn't feel such a way or that feeling such a way somehow takes away from what his victims endured and what they and their families will have to live with their entire lives, then I feel happy for you. Truly. If you think these things then that means you have never had to deal with a tragedy in your community or family. You are lucky and fortunate and should feel blessed. It means a child was never kidnapped from your neighborhood, a student at your school never committed suicide or was in a horrible accident that took their life or left them with a permanent disability. It means you never found out your priest was abusing boys, a gunman never shot up your workplace, school or movie theater. It means that your neighbor was never that serial rapist the policed warned you about or a teacher you loved dearly was sleeping with a student. It means you never knew, admired or respected someone that turned out to be evil reincarnate. It means you never lived in a small town with a family like feel that endured anything truly horrible. You are blessed and that makes me smile. I never wish anyone to understand why this has had such an impact on our community or on me personally.  

End of time out....

So, I search. I try to understand how this could happen; how someone could fool EVERYONE, from his coworkers to close friends, the boys he actually did help and didn't abuse, to judges and the governor and even the President of the United States. How did he do all this despite multiple claims made of abuse to a school counselor, principal and even the police? How could a school counselor tell a scared child that he was not abused and the man he was accusing was a good man, tell his mom it would be best not to report it and the school continue to release the child to this man despite his parent forbidding it? How do the police sit in another room and hear rather incriminating evidence and not think anything of it? Why were so many victims not believed? 

I don't have a desire to get into the Sandusky case. Quite frankly, that would require me to sit down and write a book after the abundant research I've done regarding it. My goal, as a parent first and Penn Stater second, is to find the good that can come of his crimes. Yes, good can come from even this. In fact, it must. That starts by understanding how things like this happen to begin with. I read this from a fellow alum after many of us watched the Dr. Phil episode on Friday...

"One thing about all of the "outing" of victims stories right now is the common thread of a child not being believed. There is a school of thought that a child in the foster care system or split home environment wasn't believed when speaking of molestation or abuse. I have witnessed children placed in a controlled school or group home after they spoke up of this type of issue. This was done because it was felt the child was not believable and needed therapy or other guidance. Also, there were always those that might have believed the child but didn't want to get involved due to all of the legal ramifications. The real travesty is the thought that a child's voice isn't a true voice regardless of their home environment."

The real travesty is the thought that a child's voice isn't a true voice.... Powerful. huh? I thought so too.

As someone who worked with abused children for years, combined with my counseling background, this is what I know... it is quite common for kids to not be believed, especially if their claims are against a prominent member of our society with an impeccable reputation. The adult will always trump the kid in these instances. It's simply the truth. Such an adult will often even trump the child's parent, should they believe their own child, which many don't. Kids from lower income or "nontraditional" homes of any kind and minorities are very rarely believed as well, especially over an affluent, respected, white man. This is quite simply reality. Right or wrong, it's reality. As ironic as this may sound, kids who have been abused in the past are often not believed should they accuse someone else of abuse or more severe abuse. There are many valid reasons for this and again, right or wrong, that is simply what I've seen and learned, sometimes the hard way, as I've been fooled more than once by an imaginative child! 

Some may think this is inherently wrong; that a child who claims abuse should always be heard and it should always be reported and investigated. As a parent, my knee jerk reaction is to say, ABSOLUTELY. Then as I started to become as self righteous as the best of them I was reminded of something I know well. I was reminded of why I would always stop and think and try to look at the bigger picture when I was out in the working world, working with children, especially abused children. What was I reminded of? Children, no matter the age, have some vivid imaginations. For the record, many adults too! Some kids let their imaginations run wild because it's simply part of their developmental age, learning and growth. Some are seeking attention. Some mix things up in their head, maybe from things they've heard, seen on TV or even dreamed and in an attempt to figure it out they create a new story of events in their head. Some have learned to embellish things from their parents or friends and like to see what comes of telling wild stories. It's why we teach our kids about the boy who cried wolf from a young age. Or, at least why we should teach them this story... over and over and over until they fully understand it.

I was recently reminded of this when my daughter got in loads of trouble for pushing her brother off the couch. I mean hard. The boy landed a good 2 feet away! I snatch her off the couch and put her in a timeout. She was behind the big cushion and pulled away as I growled at her that she needed to sit for being mean, hurting and pushing her brother. After her timeout, I asked her if I hurt her arm, explained that it was an accident and I was sorry if I did. I explained about not fighting mommy when she needs to sit for a time out. She responded... "Mommy kicked me". My jaw hit the floor. I tried to figure out how she could come up with such a notion while I reminded her that no such thing happened!! Imagine if she went to school and told her teacher that "mommy kicked her"? Worse yet, what if the teacher questioned her more and she actually pointed to one of the many bruises she often has on her clumsy little body?! Should child protective services come banging down my door? This is sort of a silly example compared to the specific event that has me searching for the good that can come of it, but a valid point nonetheless. 

So where's the good you are probably wondering? Kid's get abused in some form, they may find the courage to tell someone and then they aren't believed. So, the abuse continues, maybe gets worse if the perpetrator finds out they told, and so it goes, generation after generation. We have child protection laws now. They weren't always in place you know. Like civil rights, children have come a long way in being treated as equal and even human, rather than possessions that is. And like all minorities, our children have a long road ahead. It's one that may never lead to their voices being equal to their adult counterparts for so many reasons, many mentioned above. But they are also a group that can't fight themselves for their voices to be heard. We are the only ones who can fight for them. At the same time, there's a balancing act to consider because false allegations can ruin a good persons life. The court of public opinion can be devastating for the innocent and that, to me, is as much a travesty as a child's voice not being counted as a true voice. True, the adult can defend themselves, in most situations anyway, but once the court of public opinion has given their guilty verdict, then that adults voice becomes as insignificant as the children we must fight for. It's a juggling act really, and in the end there are often going to be losers. That's the hard truth to digest. That is what's unfair. That's what I am having a hard time swallowing because it doesn't have to be be this way, I don't think.

WE as a society can learn to stop, to think critically and not with knee jerk, emotional reactions. I was guilty of this in the Sandusky case myself. I thought McQueary was a scum bag who witnessed child rape and did nothing about it. When in fact, as more and more evidence and testimony has been released to the public, he witnessed no such thing. Am I happy with him for changing his story so many times it makes my head spin? Or that his initial story presented to the public is the one many have based their verdicts of guilt on; the same story that I rushed to judge and flipped a lid over? No. I'm not happy with him at all. I've also never been in his position where my story needed to be strong enough to help put away a serial pedophile. I can't judge him and I don't but I'm certainly not a fan of Mike McQueary. Though like many Penn Staters, I never really was anyway! All kidding aside, as this is no laughing matter, the bottom line is we as a society need to do better. We need to think for ourselves and stop judging each other! Unless we have walked a mile in the person's shoes we are judging then we have no right to judge. It's as simple as that.  

I honestly don't have the answers for how we can stop this innate human characteristic of judgement. I struggle with it daily, as you've read about many times! I do know that through education we are granted the ability to learn how to stop and think though. We can teach our children critical thinking skills. With our ability to obtain information and news with the click of a button and often within minutes of anything major occurring, critical thinking skills are more important now than ever before. Yet it seems such skills are lacking more now than in generations past. Along with our ability to obtain whatever information we desire brings us the ability to become more aware of issues we were previously not all that knowledgeable in. Before we judge based on a headline, we can take some time to truly educate ourselves on the situation or person we are rushing to judge. All that with the same click of a button! Maybe learning comes by understanding child abuse reporting laws, how our legal system handles various allegations and investigations or how others may not have the same rights in our society as we do and often take for granted. The topics are endless. So is our ability to learn. 

I believe that ultimately the good that will come from this particular situation is awareness. Awareness of how many children are abused each day and awareness that abuse is not always perpetrated by who we think. Sexual predators are not just those scary looking men our parents warned us not to take candy from as kids. They can be our coaches, our teachers, our religious leaders, our idols, our neighbors, our cousins, even an older friend and yes, a parent or sibling. In your own quest to become more knowledgeable, I urge each of you to read this article. 

Through awareness comes action. Action is where the miracles will happen. It will be through our actions, not just regarding child abuse and sexual abuse in any form, but regarding ANYTHING, where we can each make an impact. We can donate to the organizations that have the resources to prevent such horrific acts from continuing to plague our society. We can volunteer our time, maybe even become foster parents. God knows our society needs good people to love and care for all the children seeking their forever home. Maybe that's not for you. There's plenty of unwanted, unloved, abused and abandoned animals out there too. Learn about how the media has sent us into a frenzy of fear over pit bulls; a rush to judgment over a loving and smart animal often used as a therapy dog! Maybe do a walk for a cure....choose the disease that most resonates with you. I'm sure there's a walk for it. The call to action is seemingly endless my friends. It is through this action, seeped in awareness and reminding ourselves to stop and think and refrain from rushing to judge others, that we will see the light after the darkness. Any darkness, not just this. 

It's the rainbow after the storm that I am always searching for and if your eyes and hearts are open, you'll see it too. 

Photo taken by alumni, Beth Updegrove. PSU vs Temple 2012

As always, any hate filled comments irrelevant to finding the good that can come from horrific situations, such as Sandusky's crimes, will be deleted and the person posting them blocked. This is still my blog and my self therapy, though I hope it's beneficial to many in whatever way it fits into their personal life. Thank you in advance for being respectful. ~ Jaci