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I’m in an online writers group that is most supportive and helpful. This week one of the subjects is Elevator, and so here I go with a brief, true story:

“Phillip, just stay on the elevator sweetie. Don’t step off.
It will come back down and I’ll be right here waiting for you.”

Listening to the squeaky voice of my five-year-old screaming,
“Mommy…Mommy! Help me Mommy!”  My heart broke. Impatiently I waited for
the elevator to return with my child inside. What if someone takes him, I
thought. God, what if I never see my child again.

The morning was filled with stress. Arriving early at the
Medical University of South Carolina, Phillip complained. He was hungry. He
wanted Mickey Mouse. He wanted to go back home to watch cartoons and ride his
bike. He could not understand why he couldn’t eat breakfast before going to the
hospital.

 “Sweetie, you can’t have anything by mouth before the test.
As soon as the tests are done, we’ll get you the best meal in Charleston,” I
promised.

“I only want my Cheerios. I have them every morning, Mommy.
I’m hungry!” He stomped his foot. This was to be a morning to remember,
I thought.

Just how had I let his hand slip from mine while stepping
into the elevator? The lady standing behind me had rushed ahead of us breaking
our hands apart.

“I’m late,” she said, as if she was apologizing. When she
stepped in front of me, her movement had broken my son and I clutching our
hands and when the doors started to close with my hand outstretched into the
elevator, with a quick impulse I pulled it back just as the doors closed with
my precious son inside. Alone. Without his mother. A small five-year-old
trapped inside an elevator with strangers. What if the elevator breaks? What
if he isn’t inside when it returns to this floor? What if he is kidnapped like
the Walsh kid?

 Tears slipped down my face. Earlier in the week I’d heard
about the Walsh kidnapping and I couldn’t understand it. Now, my eyes were open
wide, with a new understanding of how quickly something can happen. Right in
the blink of an eye a child can disappear.

“Please God, let my son be OK.”

I heard the ringing of the elevator bell. When the door
opened I prayed another silent prayer anticipating what I would do If my son
was not inside. The doors opened. I saw a small blonde boy wearing a blue
Charleston T-shirt and khaki pants. “Phillip,” I screamed rushing inside, not
caring about who was around. I scooped him into my arms. “Mommy. It’s Ok. You
said to stay on the elevator.”

He grabbed my hand and I squeezed his tightly. “Let’s not get
lost again,” I said. “We have to get your breakfast and we have to go home to
Mickey Mouse.

Phillip tilted his head in my direction, casting that dimpled
grin at me. “I knew you’d be here Mommy and I knew I’d be OK.”

Two hours later, we rushed home to find Mickey Mouse. The
diagnosis had gone well, as expected. I was thankful the horrible, dreary
morning of gloom had broken into a beautiful sunshiny day with my precious son.

I suppose it was not by choice, but truly the embarrassment he brought to himself and others. I was getting just a bit sick of hearing about Anthony Weiner and his — dare I say it — ‘weiner pride.’

Today, in my opinion only, he appeared a bit arrogant when he resigned. In the background I could hear shouts — some of them not exactly mentionable on this blog, due to the embarrassment. At first I thought I was listening to a reality TV show, or another arrogant newscaster broadcasting the latest ‘weiner reports.’

I find it interesting that “Weiner” would not resign until today. Didn’t his wife return home from a trip with Hillary Clinton only a few days, or hours ago? Just what made Anthony Weiner decide it was best to resign? The power of the media? I think not. The power of the people? Not. Political influence? Pressure from the women who reportedly received text messages, including a ‘porn star?’ NOT!

Perhaps Tiger Woods phoned him — persuading him to step down. NOT! Maybe his wife arrived home and they had a serious conversation! Women are strong-minded and very persuasive — when we need to be, and this is a conversation most wives will not tolerate, not to mention the embarrassment and humiliation!

What is it with these politicians and publicity seekers? Do they think they are so special that they can do ANYTHING and no one will question their actions? Or, could it be that their brains are not located within their brain cells and heads, but within a portion of their anatomy?

Regardless, I do not feel sorry for Anthony Weiner, after all his last name is Weiner for a reason. And who cares about the hackling in the background while he was speaking. The questions were annoying – almost vulgar. I could not help wondering just what is happening within our world when freedom of speech paints such an ugly, disgusting portrait of the current events and issues. I admit, I failed to listen to the remainder of his resignation speech. I’d had enough after hearing one vulgar hacker asking inquiring questions. Sorry, but I simply do not care!

As for Anthony Weiner? I hope he goes away — sailing off to a remote island where he can get therapy – if such an island exists. Or, maybe he should just become “Mr. Mom” after the new baby arrives. I am curious about his parenting skills, and I hope his wife will do the right thing for herself and her child. After all, I know many successful “Single Moms” and their children are some of the most amazing kids I’ve ever met.

Goodbye Anthony Weiner. I suppose your next media report will be as a center fold. Who cares — Anthony Weiner is — shall I say it — ah heck, never mind. I’ve got better things to do!

Today was the day…the day for weigh-in at Weight Watchers. This week has been a crazy week, driving to North Carolina to visit a dear friend — in fact, my best of the best friend! Unfortunately, she had to work, so I found myself simply relaxing — something that I rarely do! I kept telling myself I needed to walk, but it was simply much too hot, so I ate carefully and with much health in mind.

Yesterday, I drove home. While driving, I read the billboards and listened to music, finding myself singing my heart out along the highways. I am certain many people laughed as I drove past them, rocking and singing, but who cares. I’ll never see them again and I found ‘my time’ so relaxing. One billboard caught my eyes so I took the next exit…stopping at Dairy Queen to ‘treat myself’ to a milkshake.

This morning, I dreaded the weigh in, knowing that I had been a naughty little girl yesterday — by treating myself, but sometimes we must do something just for the sheer naughtiness! Rejoice! Minus 2.8 pounds this week. RING. RING. RING. FIREWORKS…JUMP FOR JOY, and then walk into the meeting room with my dignity again!

To date I have lost 16.4 pounds! Today, I got another 5-star sticker. I feel like a little kid passing the spelling bee…all I need now is my smiley face! OK…I admit it…I’m still a kid…never will I age gracefully. No. Not me. I cherish every one of these gold stars, and I plan to collect many…many more! If ever you’ve doubted the ability to lose weight — go to a Weight Watchers meeting and give it a chance. After all — IF I can do it — so can YOU! I confess, I’ve always known I was a ‘star’ and now, I have three gold stars to prove it!

Approximately two, perhaps three, years ago I bought a new vacuum. The latest and greatest Oreck vacuum – designed for ease and simplicity during household chores. For a few months, it worked beautifully — then, the drama started! A clog that would not clear. I took it to my local Oreck dealership. Repairs needed to be made. Apparently it was more than a clog. And so the drama truly begins.

When I got it home, I vacuumed, only to have the beater brush stop! Back to the shop. Again. And again. And again. Each time, the repairs were different, finally needing a new ‘housing?’ Don’t ask me. I know how to run a vacuum cleaner — not repair it!

This scenario continued for over one year. By now, the vacuum cleaner was in the shop more than at home. Perhaps this vacuum doesn’t like me, I thought. Who cares…it’s a vacuum cleaner!

Finally, I filed a complaint. The owner of the shop reviewed my ‘repair visits.’ He was astonished! He decided to replace this vacuum with a newer unit.

I’m pleased to say, I’ve had this vacuum for close to a year now and it has worked well — well, until two weeks ago. The one thing I can say about Oreck is — they stand behind their product and they treat customers with respect.

Two weeks ago, I drove the vacuum to the shop. Since we have become accustomed to these rides — vacuum cleaner sitting on the passenger side, I was tempted to buckle its seat belt! After all, we have become close — like a teenager and mother rebelling and disagreeing each time we meet! Apparently, my dear sweet vacuum cleaner developed a clog within the bag. I had checked the bag when it stopped working — making certain it did not need to be changed.  The bag wasn’t anywhere near the full line and so there my precious vacuum goes, vacuuming, but sucking the ingredients of carpet lint into the vacuum, then coughing it out again. Why me, I thought? Within twenty-four-hours, this repair was completed and my vacuum cleaner and I were happily reunited.

Yesterday, while vacuuming I lifted the vacuum cleaner by the handle — isn’t a handle designed for a consumer to lift it??? Carrying it to my office — to vacuum — I heard a popping noise. I glanced down. The handle had separated from the vacuum cleaner.

No, I thought. This cannot be happening. This vacuum doesn’t like me. Perhaps I am allergic to household cleaning and vacuuming. Whatever did I do to deserve vacuum cleaners that hate me. Are they possessed???

Back to Oreck again. By now, the sales staff almost know me intimately! When I showed Richard, the salesperson, my vacuum he and I broke into laughter when I responded that I had come to the conclusion that housework, vacuuming and I do not agree. Maybe I’ll hire someone to come vacuum for me and let them use their personal vacuum cleaner — not mine!

While it is true, I do like a clean home,  I am tired of fighting with the vacuum cleaner and losing! Now, the score is vacuum cleaner — three — and I am the LOSER! Yes, it’s true — vacuum cleaners and I do not agree. Perhaps I’ll give it up and go to the beach!

Today is June 11, 2011. I have been on Weight Watchers for over three months now, losing 13.6 pounds. It is so exciting to see the weight loss, to open the closet and try on clothes I haven’t been able to wear before. Many still have tags on them. I suppose opening my closet, finding these clothes and trying them on is like going shopping and trying on a smaller size, only the money spent was years ago.
Originally, I anticipated losing 20 pounds by the third month; however, that just isn’t realistic — at least not for me! Many of my friends are encouraging me, telling me how great I am looking, but for me, it isn’t the time to expect others to notice my weight loss.

Weight Watchers has become a part of my life now – just like checking my e-mail, doing household chores, laundry and other demands, although Weight Watchers is not demanding. I attend my meetings on Thursday morning with a new excitement. Totally changed from the traumatic first day when my heart palpitated and I was so humiliated to hop on the scales. With each weight loss, I am happy to share, and there have been two times when I have admitted a slight weight gain. All of this goes with the territory. Weight Watchers is a new way of life for me…just like awakening early in the morning, taking a brisk 5K walk with my pups and meeting the demands of a busy life. I have managed to schedule time for me…Weight Watchers…this I do for me! Feels so good!

Today is the day the United States of America celebrates Memorial Day. It is a day where we appreciate our freedoms while remembering those who have fallen, paying the ‘ultimate price’ for our freedom. My hubby and I celebrated the day by spending quiet time with some of our best friends, doing the things that most Americans do on this date – grilling burgers, laughing, and just having some great times together.

While driving home on this date, I noticed cars parked in lots where families are celebrating Memorial Day. That got me to thinking about Memorial Day, and the ‘celebration of life’ happening today in Charleston, SC.

Approximately two weeks ago, a brave 21-year-old soldier, Army Pvt. Cheziray Pressley, a resident of Charleston, paid that price in Afghanistan.  According to sources, he had been in Afghanistan only three days, and he had made the statement to a few relatives that he might not come back from Afghanistan.

When I heard the news of his loss, I placed a brief statement in the Mail Call newsletter I write for the local VFW.  Although I never had the honor to meet this bright young man, I have had him on my mind many times. Today was his funeral, held at the Charleston Area Convention Center, appropriately on Memorial Day — to honor our loss. To all of his family and friends, I would like to say thank you for rearing a young man who wore his uniform proudly and went to a war zone recognizing that he might not return. My heart aches for all of you, especially his precious daughter who will not have the ability or freedom to know the father Pvt. Pressley would become.

Losing a loved one is never easy, especially to a war, but freedom is not free. Sometimes we must pay the ‘ultimate price’ to have our freedoms. Many Americans take their freedom for granted, and on a date like Memorial Day we must take a moment to say thank you and to remember all the soldiers who we have loved and lost.

If you are a Veteran, as my husband is, I say thank you. I appreciate all that you endured just so I can dance my fingers across a keyboard and write what my heart possesses. Living with a veteran who has fought in a war zone is not easy. We the wives, friends, and relatives cannot understand what happened. Over the years I have learned not to ask, and I’ve learned to have patience whenever a slight look or word sends my husband into a rage. I have learned to turn and walk away – to give him his space so he may recognize the rage he blew into was not directed at me…it’s simply how he copes. Sometimes it is easy to walk away — other times, I’d like to retaliate — but that would only create a ‘war of the roses.’

My wish for all on this day is to take a moment to appreciate our veterans, and those we have lost. Let us not forget freedom is not free, and sometimes we must lose great people, just to be able to — F-R-E-E! Today we honor Pvt. Pressley on this Memorial Day. Thank you for your service. You will be missed.

Happy Memorial Day. Thank you all for your service and for our freedom!

I confess, I’ve been a ‘naughty girl,’ – AGAIN! I’ve kept a secret to myself — only allowing those who are ‘the closest to me’ to know. I made this decision on March 3, 2011. At first, I would join ‘online’ – I didn’t want others to know and I was absolutely mortified about walking into a meeting that required me to weigh. Walking into the shop where Weight Watchers is located, I held my head low. I was afraid to let others see me, afraid they would scan their eyes over to see what I weighed when I plopped on the scales. Much to my surprise, when I weighed, I could not read the numbers. I took a deep breath of relief.

Today was the day — going to the weekly meeting for about the eighth, or perhaps ninth meeting, stepping on the scales, just to see IF there was a loss this week. I am happy to report a 1.2 lb. loss. What? Only 1.2??? Now, I have lost 13.6 pounds! Rejoice!

I confess, I lose weight extremely slowly, but today was a goal I reached, actually, I achieved that last week – just didn’t think about inquiring about a small 5% loss. My first week was ridiculous — 0.6 of a pound. Were they kidding? What’s the point of doing this??? I turned to walk out of the meeting — only to hear a voice inside my head scolding me — telling me to get my butt into the meeting room — and stay! Stay! Stay! Listen to what is being said. Shared. Stay. All of these people were in your shoes at one time!

It’s a good thing I listen to those voices inside my head!!!

Today, I chatted with a group of women I am getting to know thru Weight Watchers. Not bad, considering when I walked in to join, I held my head low and didn’t speak to anyone. Now, I am a Chatty Cathy, ready, willing and able to share my little goals (and slight weight gains) with others. Did you notice I did not say “Failures.” I do not consider a slight weight gain a failure, only another challenge to get moving again!

And so I will continue my goals to achieve the weight loss, and to KEEP IT OFF! Joining Weight Watchers has given me a new outlook on myself, the foods, fruits, vegetables and Power points I consume along with a brand new attitude about life! I am proud that I am losing weight, and I am thrilled that it is beginning to show!!! As I’ve stated in the meetings, this is my commitment to myself. This I do for ME!

Thanks, Weight Watchers for giving me “A new attitude!” This I do for NO ONE, BUT ME!!!!!!!

Now that I am a determined member, I will keep you abreast of my accomplishments and setbacks. This week should’ve been a bad setback — starting on Monday with my husband’s ‘minor surgical procedure’ that turned into his admittance into the hospital and so much stress for me that I thought I wanted to scream. Fortunately, I did not pig out or eat anything that I shouldn’t eat. I remained strong, accomplishing a small weight loss, but one thing I’ve learned from Weight Watchers meetings — a small weight loss is a loss! An accomplishment to seek my dreams, and I definitely am described as a dream seeker, and perhaps other descriptions I will keep only to myself!

Stay tuned on Thursday’s for more details…and if you know me…stay tuned for a dynamic change in my image! After all, I am A W-O-M-A-N! Hear me roar! You just wait!!! I will continue the 5K walks, the exercise and the healthy eating! Hear me ROAR, and ROAR and ROAR. I’m a Woman…W-O-M-A-N!  I’ll say it again…and again… AND AGAIN!

Yes, I know — if you’ve visited my blog for a posting within the past two weeks, you were a bit disappointed due to nothing new. For that I apologize. Two weeks ago I was in Cleveland, OH. Returning home late Friday night, I left again on Wednesday, driving to Columbia, SC where we (the writers and meeting planners in attendance) had a whirlwind tour of our great capital city. Stay tuned for those stories — after I recoup a bit and get my house cleaned again.

Sometimes life does make demands and I so enjoy meeting those demands. When I started this blog, I shared plans of how a writer begins this journey as a writer. I suppose you could say, I started my journey in third grade of elementary school, writing a story titled, “My Visit to Saturn.” My dad loved the story so much, he managed to get the original story from the teacher, type it, and sent to magazines. Eureka! At the age of eight-years-old, I was a published writer. Somehow the published copy got destroyed, but the original handwritten story, scribbled in an eight-years-of-age handwriting is still in my dad’s precious scrapbooks.

How I cherish that story. Later, in high school I wrote many things – some were assignments that teachers loved so much, they read them to the class. My class members cast me looks of hatred, while I beamed like a lightbulb. Imagine me — a mill kid – receiving such recognition.

Flash forward to many years of marriage, a bit of unhappiness and depression. One day in the early 1980’s I was filled with such gloom I contemplated doing something desperate; instead, I picked up pen and paper and began to write my thoughts. I am pleased to say, those thoughts have never been published; nevertheless, they served as a guideline for me to do something with my life. And so, I write.

In college, I had a great English teacher who told me writers hate to write. I disagreed with him, at the time. Now, that I am a writer, I have discovered how true his words were.  What? You say? Writers hate to write???!!!

That is so true. When the words flow, we enjoy our work. Occasionally, we will re-read the work and recognize it is a product of our research, our paths, our journeys, along with the characters we meet. When a writer is forced to sit at the work chair, staring at a screen, a hard copy, or scribbled notations, we actually do hate to write. When that happens to me, I attempt to do something different. I’ll read. Sing. Dance. And sometimes I actually want to scream. Instead, I grab three leashes and walk with my dogs. Nothing inspires me more than to take a leisurely walk with my dogs, to listen to the sounds of nature, the scents of fresh raindrops, dew drops, Southern Jasmine, Magnolias, and the iridescent smell of Mimosa trees, or Gardenias and roses. How I love when I see my neighbors working in the gardens or sitting on the porch. Occasionally we only wave. Other times, we stop to chat a bit. When I walk with my precious pups, my mind starts to work again, and if I am able to break thru the blockage of a writer’s mind, I’ll grab my Blackberry and send an e-mail to myself with the thoughts, storylines or plots, and perhaps a few characters I’ve met, or created on my journey.

Life is filled with stories and characters and I am blessed to know only  a few. This is why I write. To share life, experience, pain and heartache and happiness.

More later about writing, but for now, just know I am back!

Today is a special day for family, friends and extended family members. Today, in America, we celebrate our mothers.  Motherhood is something precious to behold. We are not educated as children, or young mothers-to-be on the subject of what defines a mother. Many people think simply giving birth defines us as mothers. Hardly.

Becoming a mother, teaching our children and watching them grow up to be responsible, kind and loving people helps us to serve as mothers.  I recall the day I became a mother, holding that precious little bundle in my arms, checking all of his fingers and toes, and glancing over him, while admiring this precious child my husband and I had created – words cannot describe how I felt.  Before long, or as I describe, in the blink of an eye, off he went — grown and ready to conquer the world on his own. I prayed that I had taught my son well. Today, he appears happy and proud of who, and what, he is, along with his accomplishments. So, I suppose, as a mother, I did my job; nevertheless; I wanted to do more than my job because never did I consider motherhood a job.

Daily it seems we hear stories about mothers ‘leaving their children in hot cars,’ or shaking their babies, just to hush them. Do these actions define motherhood? I think not.

All of us have our own definition of what defines a mother, and I will add my own thoughts to my definition. A mother is not necessarily biological. A mother teaches her child to grow with love and affection and appreciation to others. We teach values, respect and so much more.

On this day, I’d like to wish all of you — Mothers — a happy and joyous day, filled with pride and love for those you have loved, reared and taught the values, morals, and ethics of what it takes to become a good citizen and a great person. Let us not teach hatred. Let us not teach bigotry. Let us not teach abuse. Let us all teach the golden rules of life. Happy Mothers Day, with L-O-V-E.

While watching the wedding of Prince William and Kate, the weather report was a bit sketchy; however, almost as soon as Kate arrived in the stunning, classic wedding gown and stepped out to walk towards her Prince, the Heavens appeared to beam with light.

Perhaps this was just a coincidence. Since I am a person who truly believes in omens, visions and the symbolic reasonings of such, I truly believe it was Diana showing William and Kate how proud she is that they are married.

Many people have compared Kate to Diana. Her style for fashions, her elegance and charm. I believe she is a breath of fresh air for our world. Independent, modern, and such a beauty, Kate will shine above the rest of the royalty, and she will make William a happy man. The chemistry between them is amazing. How hopeful I am that they will be a happy and loving couple. The wedding was beautiful, especially at the ‘proper moment for the sun to beam from the heavens.’

Perhaps a coincidence? Hardly. The sunshine was a symbolic gesture to let everyone know Diana, her spirit and her great love for her son, was there – guiding them and giving them strength.

Such a beautiful couple they make. How I wish them the best!