I just finished reading Lisa Gardner's latest novel, Say Goodbye. (Eventually I'll learn how to put the icon of the book I'm reading over there-------> under my "Reading" heading. Until then, bear with me.) It's a brutal and disturbing story and I wish I hadn't read it. It's absolutely haunting. I'll spare you the horrid details.

This passage, copied directly from the book, should be sufficient to chill you to the bone:

You think you're safe. You think you're middle class, suburban, the right car, the nice home. You think bad things happen to other people-maybe the poor schmucks in trailer parks where the ratio of kids to registered sex offenders can be as low as four to one.

But not to you, never to you. You're too good for this.

Do you own a computer? Because if you do, I am in your child's bedroom.

Do you have an online personal profile? Because if you do, I know your child's name, pet, and personal hobbies.

Do you have a webcam? Because if you do, I'm right now convincing your child to take off his or her shirt in return for fifty bucks. Just a shirt. What can it hurt? Come on, it's fifty bucks.

I'm not sure why this disturbed me so much. The brutality imposed on the children in this book, taken from actual occurrences, hit me where I'm vulnerable. SweetieDarling has had unsupervised internet access since she was 16. I had the computer out in a public area, where we could walk up and look at what she was doing. When she got a laptop for Christmas, she started using it in her room. It never occurred to me to monitor her activities. (Mother of the Year Award is on it's way) Silas, of course, being only 5, doesn't get past NickJr. But what of the future? How will I protect him?

My worry is that our children are growing up in a culture that I am not familiar with. They are growing up with constant and instant communication. They will forge friendships and build relationships with people that they never see in person. I worry that they will forget how to interact personally. Not having grown up in this type of culture, I worry that I won't be able to protect them or teach them to protect themselves.

How do you send your love through a text message or myspace page?

Perspective altering questions

Have you ever been asked a question that triggered an epiphany? One that shed light on something that until then, you hadn't considered? When SweetieDarling was ten years old and playing softball, I would associate with the other mothers. Usually only at games, but we were friendly. During a conversation one afternoon, during which I was lamenting yet another shortcoming of Sams', this woman looked at me in all seriousness and asked "do you even like your husband?". Needless to say, I was taken aback. But after much consideration I realized that there would be no way for her to have any other perception. I never praised anything he did or any efforts he made. I only criticized.

And there was a lot to praise. He was a considerate and helpful person who wanted me to be happy. He would surprise me with weekend trips away, where all I had to do was pack and leave. Bring home something he saw that he thought might please me. There are years worth of examples I could give extolling his virtues. We were deliriously, stupidly happy for six years. We were living our lives to the fullest.

But it's all changed now. We've both changed, and I am so torn. When taking inventory of this relationship, the bad is starting to outweigh the good. The inequality is starting to weigh heavily on me and I don't know if I can continue to bear it. Poppets, I do everything. He won't even mow the lawn! I do all housework and household related chores and errands. I do all the yardwork. I run our business and handle all of our money. He goes to work, comes home, and sits on the sofa. This person is not someone that I would choose to be friends with if I met him now. We're strangers. We have no shared interests anymore. I am a person who reads voraciously. Usually one or two novels a week. I have a library of over one thousand books. My husband doesn't read. Well, he can read, obviously, just not for pleasure. But it was this way years ago, why does it matter now? Our other differences that didn't matter then suddenly seem like deal breakers now. We haven't slept in the same room for six months and I don't mind. When I'm on my way home and come around the bend in the road and see his truck in the drive, I wince. When I see his number on caller id, I cringe. I don't wish him any ill will. As a matter of fact, I want only the best for him. He'll always be the father of the best kid in the world and that has to count for something. We just have such different ambitions and goals. He is never happy, always wanting more, bigger truck, bigger house, bigger and more more more. Whereas if I have a dependable vehicle and an adequate home, I'm good. I just can't see spending the rest of my life always looking for that one thing that's going to make it all right. There is no thing, it has to come from within and I can't make him see that. If we, his family can't be enough, then nothing ever will.

I know that I can't stay in this marriage. But I also know that I need to be very smart about leaving it. I know it will take me at least a year to put together what I need to be able to walk out with a clear plan for taking care of our future. It is imperative that I wait until the housing industry picks up, because until that happens my stock isn't worth the paper it's printed on. It also has bearing on how much equity there is in our home, of which I'm entitled to 60%. There's just so much to think about. But since I'm actually to the logistics stage, I think that's a fairly decent indicator that I'm ready. The emotional stage is over.

So in answer to that long ago question: No, not anymore.

Mrs. Incredible(ly stupid)!

I did something incredibly stupid today and just now, at 8 pm, did I realize it. First, I'll give you a bit of background leading up to my temporary loss of cerebral function.
Piglet is tall for his age. He is no longer able to stretch out in his firetruck toddler bed. So I've been looking for a big boy bed. Piglet's friendfromschool has a loft bed, which is basically a bunk bed without the bottom bunk, and he's asked for one no less than 87,000,000,000,000,000 times. I've been to furniture stores (what is UP with all the furniture posts?) and online and refuse to pay upwards of $700 for a child's bed. So, hellooo, Craigs List. Gotta love Craig. I found the perfect loft bed for sale for $120! Here in my town!! I emailed, he still had it, I called, said can I come look at it, he said sure, gave me the address. So without telling anyone where I'm going (which I never do), I pop Piglet into the truck and we're off.
We show up at the house right on time and ring the bell. A pleasant looking man in his late thirties opens the door and in we go. He says his younger son still has his bed set up, did I want to see it? Of course! So we go upstairs and see the bed. It's fantastic, I must have it right NOW. Sure, perfectly-harmless-in-no-way-threatening man says. The unassembled one is in the basement.
At this point, shouldn't some form of common sense have kicked in? I have my child with me. The one who counts on me to protect him. Did any maternal warning signs activate? Suggest that since it wasn't a good idea to come into the house in the first place, that perhaps it is a worse idea to go into the basement with this man? Why no, not a one. The basement? Sounds fun! Let's go.
Obviously, it all turned out fine, or I wouldn't be posting this. But it very easily could've been different. That man was alone in his house. No one knew where we were. I had no means to defend myself, plus I was in a strange house. Remember Jodie Foster's basement scene in "Silence of the Lambs"? Ok, it's a stretch, but it still could've happened. I had no appointments scheduled, I only answer my phone if I feel like it, and the husband wasn't due home for five more hours. He wouldn't have started worrying until around 8ish. Lots of time for a bad man to hurt a woman who was dumb enough to come to his house alone in the middle of the day. And her little kid.
Sometimes I wonder how I've made it to forty years old. Seriously, there are probably hundreds of situations I've been in that I should have been harmed. I've been lucky, but I must stop relying on luck and be smarter. Piglet doesn't know any better, but I certainly should.

OOOO! AAAHHHH!! AWWW.

When Piglet and I got home from ball practice today, there was an Iphone laying on my table. OOOO! I know! I was so excited. Then, not being one to jump the gun, I viewed it with a little more suspicion. Hmmm, it was dirty. A little banged up, for sure. Hesitantly, I picked it up and turned it on. It didn't explode, so I proceeded to make lots of international calls explore the options. AAAHHHH!! Him came into the room then and told me he found it this morning at a gas station laying on the pump. AWWW Disappointment. Not for me then. So I threw it on the floor and stomped it, the end.
No really, I played with it trying to figure out who it belonged to so we could call them. I am now officially in awe of this contraption. I must have one. Now. Thanks. Email me for my address so you can send it to me.
I have been a loyal customer of Sprint for over 10 years, a fact which I do not hesitate to remind them of monthly when haggling over my bill, but I think I could be seduced to give up my crackberry for this wonder.
Ok, enough about the Iphone, it's not like they're paying me. The purpose of this missive is to caution everyone about their phones. Firstly, don't leave them lay on the gas pump. But if you do, use caution about the information in them.
Just from going through the contacts in this man's phone to try to find a home number so I could return it, I discovered the following:
His name, home address, work place and address, profession, name of every family member in household, and his Visa number, expiration date and security code. And this was without even snooping! Imagine what I might have found if I knew how to work the thing and if I had wanted to dig.
So, I called the guy and returned the phone. He was appropriately grateful and offered a reward, but shucks, that furniture that's getting delivered next week? courtesy of his visa? That's thanks enough!