Came across this from a Roman Catholic source.  It may be imaginary but it is nevertheless  VERY VERY real for so many.

MONTH ONE… Hi Mommy I am only 3/4 of inch long. But I have all my organs. I love the sound of your voice. Every time I hear it, I wave my arms and legs. The sound of your heartbeat Is my favorite lullaby.

MONTH TWO… Mommy Today I learned how to suck my thumb. If you could see me you could definitely tell that I am a baby. Im not big enough to survive outside my home though. It is so nice and warm in here.

MONTH THREE… You know what mommy, I’m a boy,I hope that makes you happy. I always want you to be happy. I don’t like it when you cry. You sound so sad.It makes me sad too. And I cry with you even though you cant hear me.

MONTH FOUR… Mommy my hair is starting to grow. It is very short and fine.But I will have a lot of it.I spend a lot of my time exercising. I can turn my head and curly my fingers and toes and stretch my arms and legs. I am becoming quite good at it too.

MONTH FIVE… You went to the doctor today, Mommy, he lied to you. He said that I’m not a baby. I am a baby mommy, your baby. I think and feel. Mommy, what’s abortion?

MONTH SIX… I can hear that doctor again, I dont like him. He seems cold and heartless. Something is intruding my home. The doctor called it a needle. Mommy what is it? I burns? Please make him stop, I cant get away from it. Mommy help me..

MONTH SEVEN… Mommy, I am okay. I am in Jesus  arms. He is holding me. He told me about abortion. Why didn’t you want me Mommy?

Wish Me Into the Light

I often find myself searching into the darkness (the shadow) of myself for healing.  Many of my dolls have been created while I focused on fear, anger, grief.  Several years ago I coached a female teenage artist who was living with a brain tumor.  She was an amazing artist and I helped her to put together a show of her work at her alternative high school.  She lived with two parents struggling with addictions and she worked at a local fast food chain; bringing in money to support her “family”.  Several months after I met her I was told that she passed on from the tumor.  I made a doll to deal with my feelings.  After I made the doll I journaled with the image and wrote this message with my non-dominant hand (see this for explanation http://www.artisjoy.com/artheals.shtml)…. “My life has been a carnival ride, now wish me into the light.”  I felt as if the young artist was speaking to me and directing me to to let her go into the light.   As you can see the doll’s costume is very earthy, in fact her structure is made of tree branches, as well as her fingers and toes.  The doll she holds and extends forward is faceless; her body a loose form of a body wrapped in purple and gold with a beaded headdress.  The creation of this doll and her image served me well in letting the young girl go in peace and love, and later on when my father passed away the same message showed up in my journal and brought me great comfort.

 In the past year I’ve been reinventing several dolls.  The image, metaphor, symbol of their meaning had done it’s work and I wanted to transform it into the next offering.  I took apart Wish Me Into the Light and placed all the body parts on my sewing table.  I looked through my fabric collection for colors that spoke to me and seemed to speak to each other.  I created a new face and put the doll together, changing the position of the arms.  I made her a hat, painted the face to work with the colors used in the design of her and put the hat on.  I liked her but something seemed missing. I looked through my box of miscellaneous items and found a perfect pin to put on the hat.  The pin seemed the crowning…she was complete.

Often, after completing a doll, I hang her on the wall, as this one, or stand on a table and spend time with her.  Looking at the design, colors, shapes I get my journal out and dialogue with her.  I noticed that she too wears a earthly gown suggesting a tree or a plant, only the colors suggest spring or summer…a growing season.  The pin on her hat looks like a light that a miner wears to go into the earth to find treasures.  I write, ” You are entering a growing season, and like any well nurtured plant you will grow toward the light.”  ”Why the brilliant shiny gem on the pin?” I ask.  ”To show you the way out of the darkness…..” she says. I pause, somewhat stunned by the beauty of the affirmation and then I notice both dolls were about light, both made by my physical hand, and yet I feel as if they were guided by a hand greater than my own.

Growing Toward the Light

We've made it!

We have cycled over 5000 kilometres, and motorcycled over 3000 more, and eventually, after 6 months on the road, we hit the smog of Kathmandu! And would you even believe that before we set off the furthest Joel had ever ridden was 30kms-Bath (from Bristol) and back?! It’s mad, isn’t it! I honestly can’t believe it. There have been times when it felt like we would never make it, the Zagros mountains in Iran seemed to go on forever, the humidity in Goa almost killed us by dehydration. And the thick fog in Northern India almost froze our fingers and toes off! We have had one hell of a journey! This morning, we arrived at the school in Kathmandu where I taught 3 years ago, and invited the boys to ask questions about our trip. And so came the inevitable: “Why didn’t you come in an aeroplane?”… And you know what, Joel and I just looked at each other and shook our heads. How to explain? The warmth of the people we met along the way, the peace from pedalling through a winding valley, the camping, cooking and showering in woodland, the sunshine… The relentless packing and unpacking, the sound of the rain on the tent, the soggy socks. The frustration at not being able to find a camping spot, the overcome fear of new places (like Iran, which was one of our favourite bits! But you’d never know it unless you went there, would you?) And the food… YUM! When all these scenes come whizzing to mind, the question that seems more relevant is “Why would we fly?”, but after a long list of the things we’d seen along the way, the mountains, rivers, people, I think they got the picture.

But listen, as well as to tell you about our adventure, the reason I write is a plea for help.

Before we set off on the trip, we arranged a meeting with a company back home to discuss sponsorship – we were planning to raise money for the school I mentioned. The school is actually an orphanage/monastery school, taking in Tibetan and Himalayan children who have either lost their parents or their families are too poor to keep them.

Shortly before we set off, Rainbow Zebra, (www.rainbowzebra.co.uk) an online office furniture company back home, agreed to support us on our ride, offering to provide the school with whatever it was that they are most in need of. Suddenly this trip became about more than just us out for a jolly… This offer is what kept my legs turning up those mountains!

We agreed that we would arrive at the school, find out what they needed, and then discuss how the sponsors could support the school. There was talk of solar panels and computers, as well as the basics; food, medicine and clothing.

Khenpo (title for a doctor of Buddhism) Rinpoche (a reincarnation of a high lama), the patron and man behind the dream which opened the school, used to have a grand(er) title, he was Head of Buddhism for Nepal, and part of the ruling government party. His salary (together with support from the UK and France), was what kept the children fed. He recently lost his position and moved out of his house in the suburbs and now inhabits a single room on the roof of the school, in order to give all he has to the 80 boys who live there. He is the one responsible, and he is relying on his savings now, which obviously cannot last forever. The worry is what will happen when it eventually runs out. They really do need help – now.

Rainbow Zebra’s contribution at this stage will go towards food as this is number one priority, and some will be divvied up for pocket money; a luxury the boys rarely receive. Photos coming soon!

Khenpo’s dream is to build a new school for 500 students, and he has already bought the land. The problems they had been having with the Maoists are now solved and there’s nothing to stop them going ahead and building, apart from lack of funds. However, it is apparent that this is nothing more than a dream for the present moment, as they struggle to feed the boys a simple diet of rice and daal. Food prices as ever, are on the up.

Joel entertains the crowd and earns his lunch!

I could write and write and write about them, these are wonderful, respectful and incredibly open-hearted people, and my experiences with them in the past have changed my life forever (I realised my dream of becoming a teacher). I really want to do everything in my power to support them, and appealing to friends and family back home is my first stop.

Please, join me in remembering how well off we all are in the west. We might be in a recession but we are lucky enough to have food and shelter and money for leisure. How much have you spent on eating/drinking out in the last month?

Me in the kitchen. The gas hob is in the middle of the floor! It accommodates very big pots!

So Joel and I and everyone at the school here in Kathmandu would be very grateful if you would consider sponsoring a child. It’s up to you how much, 70p a day is enough to feed and educate one of the children, but 20p a day provides a significant difference. In return they will write to you and send you photos and traditional artwork. They could do with the English practice too! Trust me, these kids are delightful, you will not regret it.

a classroom. very basic.

(If you can’t afford an ongoing sponsorship, please consider buying them all some fruit -or anything you think would be a good idea- via Joel and I, fruit is relatively expensive and thus a luxury for them)

Joel is doing his bit – he’s going to do some serious baking – making dessert for 80 boys! (I’ll post pics to the blog.)

Go to www.siddharthafoundationuk.org for more information on how to donate, or maybe how to come and volunteer?

Anyways guys, thank you all for taking the time to read this. I really appreciate it. To borrow a phrase from a company with good ethics: Every Little Helps!

I hope that 2012 finds everybody happy and well.

Happy new year!

Love,

Betty and Joel

Through the nursery window in the military hospital I saw my son for the first time. The nurse held him up and pulled back the blanket keeping him warm, “See, he’s a perfect. He has all his fingers and toes.”

I wanted to keep him perfect. I wanted to protect his fragile life. I didn’t want him ever to feel or know any conflict. Noble thoughts; parental thoughts; a dad’s wish for his son.

But life gets in the way of our hopes and dreams for our kids doesn’t it? If life is anything it is a struggle.  What maybe begins perfect soon faces opposition. The strife, eventually, is beyond dirty diapers. My child is left unpicked in the game and sits on the bench pretending to be happy. He is bullied, ignored, and in time his self-esteem is hurt and he is on the verge of giving up.

This Mom fought for her daughter. She heard about Jesus. Even though she wasn’t considered an insider she risked seeing Jesus. Even Jesus seems to ignore her. But a parent doesn’t give in or give up. And Jesus rewarded the tenacity.  Perseverance is essential.

The ultrasound was part 1 of 2 tests for Down’s Syndrome.

I realize there is a low percentage of our child having Down’s but even so I would like to know.

PLUS insurance covered me getting to see my little baby in the belly!

This one you can count all 5 fingers!

The baby looked like a BABY and not a Beluga Whale.

It had legs and arms and fingers and toes!

We had to wait for  the baby to wake up and when it did it was so amazing! The baby wiggled and then shot to the top of my womb, danced and floated right back down.

We saw the baby do that about three times.

SO NEAT.

While sleeping we could see it had it’s right arm above it’s head. The Hubs says,”Hey! That’s how I sleep! He Sleeps like me!”

It was precious to see him so excited.

The heartbeat was 165 this time!

I still think it will be a boy.

Belly Question: What do you think the sex of my baby will be?

Director Peter Huntley and actors Emily Maguire and Humphrey Casely-Hayford are a great production team, based in Leeds.  Emily and Humphrey seen here hard at work rehearsing!

For more information on The Ovation Awards check out http//:www.ovationtheatreawards.webs.com

Director Peter Huntley and actors Emily Maguire and Humphrey Casely-Hayford are a great production team, based in Leeds.  Emily and Humphrey seen here hard at work rehearsing!

For more information on The Ovation Awards check out http//:www.ovationtheatreawards.webs.com

WHAT
THE
(insert whatever word you want in here, but I will judge)

Now I’m pretty sure they are just a bunch of robots, but you can’t just throw a bunch of followers on me like this. I can’t handle it. I almost had a heart ache when I saw this.
It’s not that I don’t want followers. I guess everyone wants followers to some extent. But now I just get a little nervous, cause what if they aren’t robots?
What the hell am I going to tweet about then? Sometimes I wonder if I’m too personal in my tweets. But it never really mattered when I only had 10 followers.

I CAN’T HANDLE THIS PRESSURE!

Oh By the way, follow me on twitter:  Follow @corzgalore

Of course I miss him every day, but the feelings, the emotions, are tempered down into a manageable space tucked just underneath my heart and above my stomach.  It’s like a ball of paper that has been crumpled, reopened and spread out and then crumpled again and repeat until there is a smooth paper ball.  So smooth you could wipe your ass with it and not get cut.  It’s the best paper ball ever made. These feelings are not allowed to leave that place 99.9% of the time.  If they leak out I am a wet, drippy mess of ache and salt trying to get it all back together into a ball shape.

But if he comes then I have to hug him, look into his lovely blue eyes, watch the corner of his mouth curl as he smiles and the apple in his throat rise and fall with the laughter.  I have to hear his brother’s high pitched voice stutter through an excited explanation of his latest Lego battle.  I have to cook a pumpkin pie, his favorite, and hope he eats most of it so I don’t.

If he comes I have to size him up.  I think I came up to his armpit last time, I need a reminder.  Maybe I shrunk, maybe he grew.  I need to notice if he has more blonde strands of beard struggling to appear on that smooth as a baby’s bum chin that has (probably) barely suffered through 10 shavings.

Just as on the day he was born, if he visits, I will examine his fingers and toes.  They looked a little beat up last time.  He had jagged cuticles and the square nail bed of his father’s people.   Poor kid has his father’s ugly toes and the way he’s been beating them up they should look like Autumn’s fallen branches by the time he’s 25.

If he comes we have to enjoy a quite day at the beach.  I will take pictures of sand bodies and cold splashes.  His brother’s excited voice will guide the hunt for little fishes and shells. We will make hearty sandwiches that crunch with sand (the secret ingredient).  We will play until the sun is setting and although we never want to leave we know we must.  We will share small spaces and fill our bellies with love, laughter and pizza before giving in to exhaustion.   We will dream it was a perfect day and it was.

If he comes we will chat.  About this and that.  It may be simple or complex, we bounce around so much we never know.  But we always laugh.  We find the humor in it all because the tragedy desperately begs for attention and our time is short; we have better ways to complete this mission.

If he visits we will observe the cool night air.  The sounds of the city as she pulses along making hearts clang till the fire is out.  We will feel the solid thunder of her veins as we explore.  We will ache in our hearts and in our bodies because we are exhausted from cramming it all in and we love it.

If he comes there will be pancakes and eggs and bacon and cheese and potatoes and fresh fruit and sautéed vegetables and cake and salt from streaming tears.  We will taste it all and love it.

If he visits there will be pride and brotherly bonding.  There will be tinkering with toys and lazy moments in front of a screen.  A hermit crab will meet a Marine.  If he comes we may play baseball at the park or bike along the lake.   We will play and love it.

But if he doesn’t come then I don’t have to say goodbye.  Again.   And remember all the memories that are written on the tattered edges of my paper ball, tucked up under my heart.

Source:
http://www.dailymail.co.uk/news/article-2018470/Indian-boy-Akshat-Saxena-born-34-fingers-toes-breaks-world-record.html

Source:
http://www.dailymail.co.uk/news/article-2018470/Indian-boy-Akshat-Saxena-born-34-fingers-toes-breaks-world-record.html

Go for hues that complement each other, match your outfit instead, choose a color that corresponds with the glitter on your toes.  It’s summer – have fun.

American Apparel Polish // Deborah Lippmann Yellow Brick Road + Deborah Lippmann Happy Birthday // Butter Snog + Butter Tea With The Queen // Essie Guilty Pleasures + Essie Mint Candy Apple // OPI You Don’t Know Jacques

Check out Glitter & Pearls on facebook and twitter and blog lovin’!

Immensely talented Alex Winston, from way by Detroit, is currently working on her debut album with The Knocks in New York. Even though she is classically trained, Alex’s influences spread far beyond the reaches of the stage.  Unique and bubbly, influenced by The Beach Boys and The Cardigans among others, old and new, your fingers and toes will be pleased. Listen to a few choice notes from her EP here.

Listen to the acoustic of Choice Notes here

We threw a 4th of July Cookout.  It went very well.  Some of my family came and almost all of Geoff’s immediate family came.  They played Bocce ball, and fished a little it was a good time.  My sister Tammy and my niece Brandi decided to paint toenails and fingernails, Patriotically.

Miss Gracie was scared but really wanted them painted.  So Grandma Betty stepped in and painted her little toes, RED WHITE AND BLUE of course!  

Just love this pic of Emma with the flag, she was actually pouting because the “big Kids” were playing ball without her, BOCCE Ball that is.  And of course that made her little lip roll out like a red carpet.  But we later found her fishing!

Also, since my last post my Husband has bought a new GMC Sierra!  He had a GMC Canyon and was just not happy with it.  He wanted a full sized truck, so he checked into and found that if he traded it in he would save 75 bucks a month and be 0% for 72 months.  So needless to say we did it!  

The Girls were definitely enjoying it.  They love running around in the back of the truck bed.  It has been a very busy couple of months around here.  We are having a very wet summer so that hinders our outdoor activities.  My girls are very busy and active and that wears a Mama out!