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I Never Wanted To Be a SupermomEverybody knows that a good mother gives her children a feeling of trust and stability. She is their earth. She is the one they can count on for the things that matter most of all. I never wanted to be a supermom. I just wanted to be a regular, run of the mill mom. You know the kind that is part nurse, part chauffer, part toy truck mechanic, and part nutritional and financial counselor. I didn't want to be the kind of mom who juggles career and family. I was content just being in charge of the home and family. I will admit there were times when I felt judged for my decision. There were also times when finances dictated I do something to earn a little extra money. I was thankful for my college education because it did allow me to earn money from home as a freelance writer. I was the new June Cleaver, and very happy. I didn't know just how happy I was, though, until I was thrown into a new role. At first the choice was just that: a choice. My husband had been ill with a chronic but manageable illness. We felt that if he could take some time off from his crazy manufacturing manager shifts, we all would enjoy a better quality of life. I went back to full-time work and he became the full-time stay-at-home dad while he took courses to help him find a career conducive to better health. It was a struggle at first. I felt like I was missing out on all I had enjoyed for the last twelve years as a stay-at-home mom. I felt I was missing the day trips to the beach in the summer and having the time to decorate the house for the holidays. It literally took me nine months to adjust to the fact that I was gone twelve or thirteen hours a day, including the commute, and had only weekends to accomplish what I used to do while the kids were in school. I only had to endure another year of that schedule until the company restructured and my job was eliminated. Even though I was happy to be free from a job I barely tolerated, I worried about many things. I had provided the health insurance for my family and a little more than half of the income. I was hopeful at this time, too, though. My husband was truly happy for the first time in many years, working toward a career he loved and one that would provide well for our family. His health had improved greatly by being home and able to stop and rest when he needed to. We enjoyed this for three short weeks. Then life changed in a way we never imagined and one that would leave us redefining each role in our family. My boys suddenly needed a supermom the day my forty-eight-year-old husband died from a heart attack. The boys are fourteen, twelve and nine. They need a father and a mother. I find myself wondering how I can be all things to them. How I can be their driving teacher, catch partner, nurturer, and just mom, the person they go to for warm cookies and hugs? How can I provide for them? I struggle with the roles because I never felt like a great mom. Can I be a better dad? Certainly not. I feel like I was really good at being a wife, but that role no longer exists. What is a supermom then? To me a supermom is someone who recognizes her shortcomings and asks for forgiveness of her children without the guilt trip. She is someone who tries a little harder each day to have more patience than the day before. She is someone who strives to end each day, no matter how hectic or chaotic, with a goodnight kiss and an "I love you" that is heartfelt. With this definition, we can all be supermoms. Chewing gum may raise maths grades in teensCHICAGO (Reuters) – In a study likely to make school janitors cringe, U.S. researchers said on Wednesday that chewing gum may boost academic performance in teenagers. Many U.S. schools ban chewing gum because children often dispose of the sticky chaw under chairs or tables. But a team led by Craig Johnston at Baylor College of Medicine in Houston found that students who chewed gum during math class had higher scores on a standardized math test after 14 weeks and better grades at the end of the term than students in the class who did not chew gum. The study was funded by chewing gum maker Wrigley. "For the first time we've been able to show in a real-life kind of situation that students did perform better when they were allowed to chew," said Gil Leveille, executive director of the Wrigley Science Institute, a research arm of Wm Wrigley Jr, which is now a part of Mars. Leveille said Wrigley has gotten feedback from many of its gum customers who say chewing gum helps them stay focussed. So, four years ago the company started the science institute to see if some of these claims have merit. The researchers at Baylor studied four math classes or 108 students aged 13 to 16 years old from a Houston, Texas, charter school that serves mostly low-income Hispanic students. About half got free Wrigley's sugar-free gum to chew during class, homework and tests. They chewed at least one stick of gum 86 percent of the time they were in math class and 36 percent of the time they were doing homework. The other half went without. After 14 weeks, the gum chewers had a three percent increase in their math scores on the Texas Assessment of Knowledge and Skills achievement test, a small but statistically significant change, according to Johnston and colleagues, who presented their findings at the American Society for Nutrition scientific meeting in New Orleans. They found no difference in math scores between the two groups in another test called the Woodcock Johnson III Tests of Achievement. However, the gum-chewers did get better final grades in the class than their non-chewing peers. Another Wrigley-funded study found that college students in a lab who were given difficult computer tasks had lower levels of the stress hormone cortisol when they were chewing gum compared to when they were not. Leveille said he thinks chewing gum helps reduce stress so students can do their best work. And while he is aware that many schools have a dim view of students chewing gum in class, he hopes the findings may change that a bit. "It's not a matter of chewing. It's a matter of gum disposal," Leveille said, adding that that can be overcome by teaching proper disposal behaviours. If that fails, he quipped, "We'll have to provide the janitors with scrapers." A scary nightIt was a dark and stormy night. I was about to go to bed when I heard a tapping sound on my window.
I peeped out of my blanket but it was too dark to see anything. Then I heard footsteps. They were getting louder and louder. It was dark but I knew the way to my drawer where I kept my camera. I ran there and took out my camera and started to take pictures in the direction of the window. Soon the footsteps died off.
When I reached home I told my father the whole incident and he started to laugh. I started laughing too when he told me that he had dressed up as an alien for the party. Today, I am still amused to think I was so afraid of my own father. FBI's newest 'Most Wanted' terrorist is AmericanBy DEVLIN BARRETT, Associated Press Writer Devlin Barrett, Associated Press Writer – Tue Apr 21, 3:09 am ET
WASHINGTON – For the first time, an accused domestic terrorist is being added to the FBI's list of "Most Wanted" terror suspects. Daniel Andreas San Diego, a 31-year-old computer specialist from Berkeley, Calif., is wanted for the 2003 bombings of two corporate offices in California. Authorities describe San Diego as an animal rights activist who turned to bomb attacks and say he has tattoo that proclaims, "It only takes a spark." A law enforcement official said the FBI was to announce Tuesday that San Diego was being added to the "Most Wanted" terrorist list. The official spoke on condition of anonymity because he was not authorized to discuss the announcement ahead of time. San Diego would be the 24th person on the list, and the only domestic terror suspect. FBI spokesman Richard Kolko declined to comment on the pending announcement. The move to add a domestic, left-wing terrorist to the list comes only days after the Obama administration was criticized for internal reports suggesting some military veterans could be susceptible to right-wing extremist recruiters or commit lone acts of violence. That prompted angry reactions from some lawmakers and veterans groups. An arrest warrant was issued for San Diego after the 2003 bombings in northern California of the corporate offices of Chiron Corp., a biotechnology firm, and at Shaklee Corp., a nutrition and cosmetics company. The explosions caused minor damages and no injuries. A group calling itself "Revolutionary Cells" took responsibility for the blasts, telling followers in a series of e-mails that Chiron and Shaklee had been targeted for their ties to a research company that conducted drug and chemical experiments on animals. Officials have offered a $250,000 reward for information leading to his capture, five times the reward amounts offered for other so-called eco-terrorists wanted in the U.S. In February, the FBI announced San Diego may be living in Costa Rica, possibly working with Americans or people who speak English in the Central American country. Law enforcement officials describe San Diego as a strict vegan who possesses a 9mm handgun. On his abdomen, he has images of burning and collapsing buildings. The FBI's "Most Wanted" terrorist list is distinct from the much longer-running "Ten Most Wanted" list. Al-Qaida chief Osama bin Laden is on both. There is another American already on the list, but he is wanted for his work overseas for al-Qaida. Adam Yahiye Gadahn grew up in California but moved to Pakistan and works as a translator and consultant to al-Qaida. Experts Watch for Spread of Chikungunya, a Highly Painful Virus People get chikungunya fever when they are bitten by mosquitoes infected with the disease. For many years, the disease has been found in countries in Africa and Asia. The symptoms are increased body temperature, pain in muscles and joints and stomach sickness. The disease is not usually deadly. But the muscle and joint pain can last for weeks or months. There is no vaccine to prevent the disease and no special drug to treat it. Doctors advise taking medicines like aspirin or ibuprofen.
The name chikungunya means "that which bends up" in the Swahili language. People infected with the virus walk in a bent-over position because of the severe pain in the joints. Malaysia reported more than one thousand one hundred cases of chikungunya so far this year. In Indonesia, about two hundred people in central Java became sick from the virus last month. And about one thousand people near Yeshwanthpur in India also showed signs of the disease in March. But the disease also appeared in a cooler climate in two thousand seven, causing concern about its spread. Italy reported about two hundred cases during warm weather. The medical journal Eurosurveillance Weekly said it was the first time mosquitoes carried the virus inside Europe. Two kinds of mosquitoes carry chikungunya fever. One is called Aedes albopictus, or Asian tiger mosquito. It has been reported in many European countries including France, Belgium, Spain and the Netherlands. It also lives in the southern United States. The other mosquito that can carry chikungunya, Aedes aegypti, also is present in the United States. Ann Powers is an expert on viruses. She works for the Centers for Disease Control and Prevention in Fort Collins, Colorado. She said the disease spread is not directly connected to climate change. But she also said C.D.C. scientists are preparing for possible cases of chikungunya in the United States. People around the world can prevent diseases spread by mosquitoes by removing standing water from their property. They should try to keep mosquitoes out of their homes. And they should wear clothing that covers the arms and legs when they are outside. DEET and other chemicals that work against insects can keep mosquitoes from biting. The Lady, or the Tiger?Written by Frank R. Stockton
Long ago, in the very olden time, there lived a powerful king. Some of his ideas were progressive. But others caused people to suffer. One of the king's ideas was a public arena as an agent of poetic justice. Crime was punished, or innocence was decided, by the result of chance. When a person was accused of a crime, his future would be judged in the public arena. All the people would gather in this building. The king sat high up on his ceremonial chair. He gave a sign. A door under him opened. The accused person stepped out into the arena. Directly opposite the king were two doors. They were side by side, exactly alike. The person on trial had to walk directly to these doors and open one of them. He could open whichever door he pleased. If the accused man opened one door, out came a hungry tiger, the fiercest in the land. The tiger immediately jumped on him and tore him to pieces as punishment for his guilt. The case of the suspect was thus decided. Iron bells rang sadly. Great cries went up from the paid mourners. And the people, with heads hanging low and sad hearts, slowly made their way home. They mourned greatly that one so young and fair, or so old and respected, should have died this way. But, if the accused opened the other door, there came forth from it a woman, chosen especially for the person. To this lady he was immediately married, in honor of his innocence. It was not a problem that he might already have a wife and family, or that he might have chosen to marry another woman. The king permitted nothing to interfere with his great method of punishment and reward. Another door opened under the king, and a clergyman, singers, dancers and musicians joined the man and the lady. The marriage ceremony was quickly completed. Then the bells made cheerful noises. The people shouted happily. And the innocent man led the new wife to his home, following children who threw flowers on their path. This was the king's method of carrying out justice. Its fairness appeared perfect. The accused person could not know which door was hiding the lady. He opened either as he pleased, without knowing whether, in the next minute, he was to be killed or married. Sometimes the fierce animal came out of one door. Sometimes it came out of the other. This method was a popular one. When the people gathered together on one of the great trial days, they never knew whether they would see a bloody killing or a happy ending. So everyone was always interested. And the thinking part of the community would bring no charge of unfairness against this plan. Did not the accused person have the whole matter in his own hands? The king had a beautiful daughter who was like him in many ways. He loved her above all humanity. The princess secretly loved a young man who was the best-looking and bravest in the land. But he was a commoner, not part of an important family. One day, the king discovered the relationship between his daughter and the young man. The man was immediately put in prison. A day was set for his trial in the king's public arena. This, of course, was an especially important event. Never before had a common subject been brave enough to love the daughter of the king. The king knew that the young man would be punished, even if he opened the right door. And the king would take pleasure in watching the series of events, which would judge whether or not the man had done wrong in loving the princess. The day of the trial arrived. From far and near the people gathered in the arena and outside its walls. The king and his advisers were in their places, opposite the two doors. All was ready. The sign was given. The door under the king opened and the lover of the princess entered the arena. Tall, beautiful and fair, his appearance was met with a sound of approval and tension. Half the people had not known so perfect a young man lived among them. No wonder the princess loved him! What a terrible thing for him to be there! As the young man entered the public arena, he turned to bend to the king. But he did not at all think of the great ruler. The young man's eyes instead were fixed on the princess, who sat to the right of her father. From the day it was decided that the sentence of her lover should be decided in the arena, she had thought of nothing but this event. The princess had more power, influence and force of character than anyone who had ever before been interested in such a case. She had done what no other person had done. She had possessed herself of the secret of the doors. She knew behind which door stood the tiger, and behind which waited the lady. Gold, and the power of a woman's will, had brought the secret to the princess. She also knew who the lady was. The lady was one of the loveliest in the kingdom. Now and then the princess had seen her looking at and talking to the young man. The princess hated the woman behind that silent door. She hated her with all the intensity of the blood passed to her through long lines of cruel ancestors. Her lover turned to look at the princess. His eye met hers as she sat there, paler and whiter than anyone in the large ocean of tense faces around her. He saw that she knew behind which door waited the tiger, and behind which stood the lady. He had expected her to know it. The only hope for the young man was based on the success of the princess in discovering this mystery. When he looked at her, he saw that she had been successful, as he knew she would succeed. Then his quick and tense look asked the question: "Which?" It was as clear to her as if he shouted it from where he stood. There was not time to be lost. The princess raised her hand, and made a short, quick movement toward the right. No one but her lover saw it. Every eye but his was fixed on the man in the arena. He turned, and with a firm and quick step he walked across the empty space. Every heart stopped beating. Every breath was held. Every eye was fixed upon that man. He went to the door on the right and opened it. Now, the point of the story is this: Did the tiger come out of that door, or did the lady? The more we think about this question, the harder it is to answer. It involves a study of the human heart. Think of it not as if the decision of the question depended upon yourself. But as if it depended upon that hot-blooded princess, her soul at a white heat under the fires of sadness and jealousy. She had lost him, but who should have him? How often, in her waking hours and in her dreams, had she started in wild terror, and covered her face with her hands? She thought of her lover opening the door on the other side of which waited the sharp teeth of the tiger! But how much oftener had she seen him open the other door? How had she ground her teeth, and torn her hair, when she had seen his happy face as he opened the door of the lady! How her soul had burned in pain when she had seen him run to meet that woman, with her look of victory. When she had seen the two of them get married. And when she had seen them walk away together upon their path of flowers, followed by the happy shouts of the crowd, in which her one sad cry was lost! Would it not be better for him to die quickly, and go to wait for her in that blessed place of the future? And yet, that tiger, those cries, that blood! Her decision had been shown quickly. But it had been made after days and nights of thought. She had known she would be asked. And she had decided what she would answer. And she had moved her hand to the right. The question of her decision is one not to be lightly considered. And it is not for me to set myself up as the one person able to answer it. And so I leave it with all of you: Which came out of the open door – the lady, or the tiger?
My DadWhenever anyone meets my dad, I imagine they first notice how handsome he is: the striking blue eyes, jet black hair and cleft in his chin. But next, I'll bet they notice his hands. He's a professional carpenter; he usually has a bruised nail or two, several fresh cuts, various healing wounds and calluses everywhere. The girth of his fingers is three times the size of an average man's finger. They are the hands of a man who started his working life at the early age of three, milking cows. His attitude toward a work crew can appear gruff; he expects them to work hard and do whatever it takes to finish the job without excuses. Twenty-three years ago, my mom died, and this man's man was left all alone to raise a fourteen-year-old girl and an eleven-year-old boy. He suddenly had to be Dad and Mom. It seemed easier at first. I was a rather fearless child and preferred playing with boys, doing boy things like climbing trees, building forts, playing football, baseball and with G.I. Joes. I did have a Barbie doll, but she often wore G.I. Joe fatigues and went to war with him. I even played on a boys ice hockey team. I had a lot of fun and learned many things from these activities. But none of them prepared me for stepping into my womanhood, which had to happen sooner or later. I especially remember one day when I was about fifteen years old. We were driving down to Georgia to visit my aunt, and for some reason, every single thing my dad and my brother said or did made me crazy! I went from weepy to laughing for no reason, but my overall desire was to be left alone! It was clear they were both perplexed by this Jekyll/Hyde creature in their car. We'd been taking our time driving and ended up spending the night at a motor lodge along the highway. Once we were in the room, Dad sent my brother out to the soda machine. When we were alone, he asked me what was wrong. There was nothing to do but admit that I'd begun menstruating for the very first time in my life. Then I burst out crying uncontrollably. The miracle was that somehow, even though no booklet included this piece of information, Dad knew to just hold me and allow me to mourn the loss of my childhood. He then offered to go to the store for me and buy the items I required. We both crossed some kind of bridge that day: me into womanhood and he more deeply into the role of being mother as well as father. I think some men fear their feminine side, as if being nurturing would take away from their manliness somehow. All my dad knew to do was to love me unconditionally; not surprisingly, that worked just fine. When my senior prom rolled around, I found myself in the happy position of dating a boy from a neighboring town; we invited each other to our proms, which were on consecutive nights. But what nights they were! Tradition at our school's prom was to stay out all night with your friends. With our parents' permission, my date and I "prommed" until 6:30 in the morning. I returned to my home to sleep for a few hours before driving to his parents' house. I'll never forget my amazement that Saturday morning when I awoke and came downstairs to find my beautiful prom gown proudly displayed in protective plastic, like new, ready for another night's festivities. It seems that sometime during my sleep, my dad had come into my room and found my prom gown. He had hand-washed it in a delicate laundry soap, then hand-pressed it. My dad may not have been a man of many words when he was raising us, but he didn't really have to be. When I think of those beat-up working man's callused hands gently washing my delicate prom gown, my heart warms and relives that moment of unconditional love all over again |
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