Prince Harry fights in Afghanistan. This story broke yesterday on Drudge Report. If you don't know Drudge, he's a maverick in the news business... he runs that site, and he has the news consistently before anyone else. He became famous for breaking the Lewinsky/Clinton story back in the day.

Anyway, the synopsis of this Harry story is, Prince Harry (Diana's younger son) joined the army last year... maybe 2 years ago, I'm not sure. And he wanted to go and fight in the war. But they wouldn't let him go to Iraq because he's 3rd in line for the throne and it was too much of a security risk.

Then, about 3 months ago, he is deployed and secretly goes to fight on the front lines in Afgahnistan. And get this- the government over there made a deal to keep it hush-hush. Their reporters have known about this and did not tell. Also, the men that he's fighting beside did not leak the news. Amazing. I can't believe they got that kind of cooperation from the media. Of course, the minute the American press heard about it, it was international news.

Part of me is annoyed with Drudge for breaking the story, because now Harry has to stop being a regular guy and go back to the palace and the constant scrutiny. On the other hand, somebody was going to report this, and Drudge makes a career of knowing before anyone else.

Then there's an element of why did Harry have to go over there when he puts everyone around him in danger just by virtue of being such a large target? He has expressed frustration with the royal life, and he just wants to be able to live normally. But is there an obligation by being royal to be responsible? I don't know.

And then I feel sorry for him, because he is not able to do what he wants to with his life, and now he has to come home because his cover's been blown.

Oh, and evidently he was an awesome soldier. Led 3 missions and whatnot. Di's boys are already international heartthrobs... this makes Harry even more so.

Anyway, it's very interesting.

Brynn is pukey. What are the odds... yesterday was the first day she ever sat up in the basket part at Walmart. And of course she put her mouth on the bar, we don't have a cover yet. Then she wakes up puking last night... sigh.
I received the offering, and told the MOG to turn on the light.. and there she is, in our bed... sicky and all wet and SMILING. She was so happy to see us... what a cutie. Anyhoo, that's the deal-eo today. Puke. I feel a little nauseous myself, talking about it.

>>Link>> This is NOT good news.

In other news, my inner healing class was really good last night. I don't know how much traditional inner healing I need. I mean, I wasn't abused by anyone, and my parents were great. My wounds are all from my life imploding as an adult... people were dropping like flies for a while in my early 20's. So that's where I got most jacked up.

But anyhoo, last night was all about Father Wounding, which is, you know, how your dad wounded you and screwed up your life by being such a loser in your childhood. And a lot of people had bad dads, so I know that pain is valid. I just think I've been through the issues of my own heart enough that I'm pretty cautious about throwing stones. And that's kind of what this class is, throwing stones and hitting your pillow and letting it all out. Like I said, valid. But uh, a little elementary. Not that I've arrived. I've just had excellent training in my family and through MCF, and I like that kind of personal accountability better.

So anyways, last night I realized that my dad was a great dad. No real complaints. He was far from a perfect person, but a good dad. But still, there's this disconnect between me and God as a father. So that's where I was last night. Dealing with my disappointment with God, and releasing Him from that... (for my sake) and just trying to open myself up to love Him and trust Him again. And I wept copiously, although not as loudly as the small group next door who were hitting things (not really) and gasping and groaning and WHY-ing and so on. It's not funny, it's good they are getting healed.
But it is a little funny.

I have nothing to say.

That being said, I wish I could take a nap. All the elements are in place but my wee brain will not go to sleep. And now I have whiled away naptime and Toby will wake up any minute and I will.still.be.tired.

Sheesh.

This is a clip from Saturday Night Live... holier folk than I will deny ever watching this show. But when Huckabee makes headlines for a skit, you better believe I be hittin the Youtube. So there you go.


Somebody... probably Snarky Anonimi asked me the other day about Huck. Here's the deal. It is not outside the realm of possibilty for God to put this guy in office. It is, however, unlikely. I still like him a lot and I understand why he is still in the race. Far too many conservatives are just not happy with McCain and he is presenting an alternative. Power to him. If McCain gets the official nomination in a couple of months, then Huck will quit campaigning. I wish he could win. But you know, regardless, I like the guy and I think he is VERY funny.

So my political plan, because I know you're dying to hear, is to brush up on all the other offices. And vote for as many pro-life, conservative candidates as I can for all the other offices. And possibly leave my ballot blank for Prez. That's the current plan.

Another one of those days when technology comes back around and just bites you in the butt... figuratively speaking.
I captured a 3 minute video of Toby dancing to Toby Mac... it was perfect. And somehow I deleted it before it imported. I can hear my dad from heaven, "Technology? Sounds like user malfunction to me!"
(sigh)
Regardless, or irregardless if you prefer, it's gone. And I was going to post it here. Now I will have to catch him in that mood again and try to catch another jam session. Cest la vie.

It's Friday, finally. The MOG has a block of time at home today, althought thus far it has been spent praying in the basement. Deep praying, I suspect from the crease marks on his forehead. (In his defense, he was praying when I went down there a while ago)
I am now sequestered in my room. Bean is sleeping in here, R2 is chilling with Nemo and Toby is in his room, napping. Which includes scooting his bed around the room and falling down and screaming between short silences that are probably aborted nap attempts. Whatevs. The point is, I am, for some intents and purposes, alone. I should read. Good day.

I have this thing... strange crying moments. I don't know what it's called.... here's how it goes. I can be watching TV, or out in public, whatever. And I see someone talented. Like a children's dance act or someone singing. And I just start crying.
Here's a weird part. I don't have to like the singer, or whatever. Just something grabs my heart and I cry. Surprises me every time.
I usually feel like a goof, I mean, who cries at Star Search? Or some kid singing the anthem? I do, evidently.

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So last night the little guys and I watched Idol. Toby has clear favorites... there's the rocker nurse chick, and he just jumps up and starts busting a groove. I don't like her, but if he could vote...
I think I have an inborn prejudice toward long-haired blonde singers. I automatically don't like 'em. I like sassy black soul singers. Just my .02.

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Fear not, readers. My spiritual journey continueth. Updates on that sometime when I have words for it. Peace out.

Last night was my second inner healing class... I was relieved to find I am not suffering greatly from Mother Wounding. It was interesting, though. In our small group time about half of the women were just sobbing and I really wanted to pray for them. (It's against the rules, only the group leaders can lay hands) But it was cool that my heart was moved and I actually wanted to reach out to someone else. It was a good class... sometimes I think I could teach it, but you know, I'm not all that. I am trying to turn off the analytics and receive from God for myself. So that's that.

In other news, American Idol is in full swing and I have selected a few favorites. Anybody with me?

In other, other news, I am sick of diapers. I clean up more human waste than a sewage company. Sheesh.

Fidel Castro has resigned. Or, is he dead? Time might tell. Maybe him and Osama have a nice cabana somewhere... or not.
His brother has taken the helm at the sprightly age of 76. No offense to my friends and family who have reached senior status, but uh, isn't that kind of old to start running a country? I'm just saying.
So Arafat and Hussein are gone, and probably Castro. These are historical days... I guess all days are historical, but these old-timers kicking the bucket is big news.
Who knows what the world will look like in 10 years... people I went to high school with will be eligible to run for President. Yikes. May God have mercy on our souls.

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In other news, no news. Just chillin in the house with the wee folk, toying with productivity. Trying to get motivated to start dinner... but the MOG is fasting and the young gents would like pbjs as much or better than beef stroganoff. And so I blog.

Last week, I guess Friday, R2 was out playing in the backyard and he drove his little car into a rut. He then proceeded to get very very mad and bash his head into the steering wheel approximately 5000 times (exaggeration) before I made it across the yard to stop him. At the time it was pretty crushing to me, I hate it when he hurts himself. Now, it's just one of those things... you deal with with a special needs kid.
The problem is, he bruised his head pretty magnificently. As in, a dark oval bruise going from his hairline to the top of his nose. He looks like a Klingon. He doesn't appear to be in any pain... he has forgotten about it. But we, the family are probably sequestered here all week until it heals... the police and whatnot.
Last night we went out to eat to celebrate our tax return... we made him wear a baseball cap. He really hated it. But he wore it.

I don't know how we're going to teach him to cope with his frustration... we will have to figure out something. One thing that occurs to me, is controlling MY frustration... when I knock into things 10000 times a day, when I drop dishes, etc.

So that's that. A week in. Maybe I will finally go through all the clothes and get rid of stuff. More stuff. Again.