Saturday, May 24, 2014

http://statenews.com/article/2002/09/hardy_fans_adjust_to_new_rules_at_stadium

HARDY: Fans adjust to new rules at stadium






Kevin Hardy
Let’s pull one of those manila folders from the ol’ filing cabinet, shall we?
The file of Holly Beavers is pulled. Perusing her bio reveals she’s a dark-haired, average height 26-year-old from Ferndale who’s been attending Spartan football games since 1984.
She overdresses for sporting events, clad in a green halter top, jean skirt and leather sandals, but she’s well prepared. She watches games from section 29, row 37, seat 48 from behind shades and carries SPF 8 sunblock, a camera and deodorant inside her $5 green Old Navy purse.
Let’s add to her paperwork.
In 19 years of spectating from inside the Woodshed, Beavers was unprepared for admittance into Saturday’s game against Rice. She couldn’t get in, at first, as her purse was larger than the 5 1/2 by 8 1/2 by 2-inch foam box used to screen prohibited items.
“I’m not a terrorist,” she says.
And this isn’t a profile of a terrorist.
Her words fall on deaf ears here as the green polo, beige khaki-clad security crew keep her out.
“I can’t have this in?” she asks, raising her bag above her head.
Nope.
Wednesday marks the one-year anniversary of the Sept. 11 terrorist attacks. Yes, it’s already been a year of national grievance for our fallen Twin Towers, fellow Americans and beloved heroes - New York firefighters and police. Candlelight vigils have been snuffed and tears have dried, leaving behind salty stains.
So much has changed.
It has been a year of crumbling of civil liberties, which we have sacrificed for the new security blanket, the Department of Homeland Security.
Yet, Americans seem unwilling to forfeit their liberties for protection, leading me to believe decisions need to be made.
Purse or no purse? Security or no security?
Security has tightened in U.S. airports, borders and in this case, Spartan Stadium.
“It’s for your own safety,” shouted a security guard from behind the gate.
“My own safety?” Beavers reacts. “It’s just a camera.”
After six minutes of disagreement, Beavers pockets what she can, along with the help of friends and family.
She turns as she enters through the gate, fading into stadium shadows.
“I’m getting into the game because my dad shoved my deodorant and sunblock down his pants,” she says.
Moments later, merchandising management senior Heather Frank finds herself stuck outside the stadium’s southwest corner thanks to the size of her $200 kate spade purse.
“It’s a $200 purse, I’m not leaving it behind,” she says.
Frank wanders off to find friends and figure out what to do. She’s already missed five minutes of the first quarter.
Others like Beavers and Frank find themselves dumfounded by the list of prohibited items, which include flags, containers and large fanny packs. That’s right, no fanny packs here.
Screeners don’t look inside the outlawed bags, rather opting to limit by size.
“We don’t have the time to check any food or drink,” Ingham County Sheriff’s Office Sgt. Thomas Beeson says.
Beeson says by banning larger bags and purses it “stops contrabands from coming in.”
With seating for 72,027 here, lines would grow, forming outside the stadium and extending toward south campus if security guards checked every bag.
MSU and aviation officials already have determined the stadium by the Red Cedar River an appealing spot for terrorism, questioning air restrictions and regulations on game day.
Ticket-takers, police and university officials are cautious, even though Beavers’ green purse isn’t going to start the next attack on the Middle East.
But, you can’t have your purse and security, too. Welcome to Spartan Stadium - post Sept. 11.

Tuesday, August 28, 2012

Now Is Now

Last night, I ran 2.75 miles at dusk.  The street lights came on and the moon hung above my head as I raced to make it home.  I finally walked when I turned onto my street.  Usually while running, my head is full of thoughts...thoughts of other people's problems, how to help them, how to help me.  But on this night, I just felt so thankful...moved to tears thankful. 

The sky was so clear with a shade of sunlight left.  There was a light breeze that cooled me down after the long run.  I looked around and it was as if I saw my neighbors' homes for the first time.  I love my street.  I love my house.  I love my yard, my neighbors, my husband, children, pets...my everything.  Nothing is perfect...yet, everything is.

I suddenly prayed and my heart lifted to God.  "Please, Lord, let me enjoy this with all the time I have left on this earth."  I know I won't be able to live in this house forever.  I know this house will not always be home to my children.  I know things will change. 

Tonight, I was reading to Ellison while she drank her bottle.  It was the last chapter in the book Little House in the Big Woods by Laure Ingalls Wilder.  I thought of Laura, in her 60s, writing this book almost as a memoir of her childhood life.  She missed her parents who were deceased and even Mary was dead by the time Laura started to write these books.  But these stories brought Ma, Pa and her sister back to life.  I read the words in this final paragraph in this final chapter and looked into my daughter's eyes...not going to lie...I teared up.

"What are days of auld lang syne, Pa?"
"They are the days of a long time ago, Laura," Pa said.  "Go to sleep, now."
But Laura lay awake a little while, listening to Pa's fiddle softly playing and to the lonely sound of the wind in the Big Woods.  She looked at Pa sitting on the bench by the hearth, the firelight gleaming on his brown hair and beard and glistening on the honey-brown fiddle.  She looked at Ma, gently rocking and knitting.

She thought to herself, "This is now."

She was glad that the cosy house, and Pa and Ma and the firelight and the music, were now.  They could not be forgotten, she thought, because now is now.  It can never be a long time ago.

Now is now, but so soon it will be yesterday.  Hold on.

Friday, June 01, 2012

Love Isn't

I was thinking today about love.  This was during one of the worst lunches ever with my child.  He was completely out of control, throwing food, jumping on the table, running over to pinch Ellie's leg...you get the picture.  I remained as calm as I could, trying to feed Ellie her lunch.  But it made me stop and think: do I love my son right now?  Well, yes.  Of course.  And even when I completely don't like him much, I still feed him, watch over him, make sure he isn't going to hurt himself or the baby, clothe him, make sure he gets enough sleep and hug him.  What do I get in return?  Really, nothing.  And I'm not even looking. 

I know what it means to love a bratty child.  Once in a great while, he will suddenly kiss me and say, "I love you, momma."  But at nap time, he always snuggles in close, feeling protected and loved.  He gets the reward.  Love?  Yes.  Perhaps love truly isn't a feeling but a choice.  I have known this since my marriage but I have lived this since Xavier.  My reward isn't a gushy, loving feeling.  It isn't constant kisses and hugs and I love yous.  It isn't about the way my kids or my husband treat me, either.  It is, in fact...nothing I get...yet, I receive love back in a thousand ways. 

With Joey, I confess, I do look for rewards and when I look, I'm let down.  My expectations of love are driven by society or how I grew up.  But with my kids, I don't ever look for a reward.  There is nothing to gain over my loving them except that they are loved.  Not even sure if this is making sense.  My bottom line is that we look for other people to please us and that is not love.  We expect the people we love to never let us down and that isn't love, either.  We expect some sort of perfection.  We expect....

Maybe we shouldn't.  Maybe we should just love for the simple gratification of loving despite that person's response.  And of course, there is what I know about love from God, the perfecter and author of love:

1Corinthians 13:4-8
4 Love is patient, love is kind. It does not envy, it does not boast, it is not proud. 5 It does not dishonor others, it is not self-seeking, it is not easily angered, it keeps no record of wrongs. 6 Love does not delight in evil but rejoices with the truth. 7 It always protects, always trusts, always hopes, always perseveres.
8 Love never fails. But where there are prophecies, they will cease; where there are tongues, they will be stilled; where there is knowledge, it will pass away.

Tuesday, May 29, 2012

Poop Scooping

Since I have become the mother of one...and then two...I haven't had time, it seems, to write anymore.  And actually, I haven't had time to think anymore.  At least, deep think.  My thoughts are all over the place from "what are we going to eat for dinner" to "who's poopy now?"  And when I have one of those deep thoughts, someone cries out "momma!" and the thought is gone.  But today is different.  Today, I've been deep thinking about some heart issues and prayed both kids would nap simultaneously so I could get those thoughts down.  Here I am.

My deep thoughts do happen but they happen in the shower, in the car, on a run, doing the dishes or, like today, while poop scooping the yard.  Today, I thought about a couple of things. 

First, I thought about depression.  I wonder, how much of our depression is self-inflicted.  Not all of it.  I know this from first hand experience.  After I had Ellison, things were great...for a few weeks.  Then, these uncontrollable feelings...waves of heavy, heaviness, washed over me.  At first, I brushed them aside as I got to know my baby and learned how to care for two.  But it got to be too much one day and I couldn't get out of bed.  It was TOO beautiful outside.  I loved my kids TOO much.  I felt TOO out of control.  I couldn't even really cry...and then I couldn't even really stop.  It was insane.  I felt insane.  My doctor/friend came to my side and listened.  I remember her saying "depression doesn't care who you are or what you think about it."  I considered medication to stop feeling the way I was feeling and though I don't fault others for taking meds, I chose not to.  I wanted to give myself a little time to see if the feelings would pass.  If after a week I still felt heavy under the depression, I would take the meds.  But every day, my husband, kids and I got out of the house.  We went to the zoo, to the museum, the community pool, on a walk, to the mall, to get ice cream, to a park.  Every day, we did something to get me out of the house and enjoy the life I had.  Once I got used to having two kids and once the hormones died down a bit, I was just fine (aside from having the occasional, momentary meltdown). 

Back to the other part of depression...the depression we are responsible for...the self-inflicted.  At times, I am really, really over the top happy.  Nothing could bring me down.  And then, something does and I crash.  BAM.  I'm now at the bottom of the heap looking up.  But what brought me down in the first place?  It was probably a reliance on someone else for my happiness.  Think about it.  If someone else could make me the happiest person on earth and then turn around in a matter of minutes and crush my soul, whose fault is it?  My own.  Everyone will let us down eventually because they are sinners....just like you...just like me.  If you stick around me long enough, I will break your heart.  Intentionally?  Maybe, maybe not.  But even though my goal is to become more and more Christ like, I'm still a silly, little human being with a whole bunch of hang-ups and imperfection.  This is why we put our hope and hang our joy on Jesus.  This is why we focus on the cross and what He did for us so that we could have a relationship with God.  When we live THAT way, people cannot steal our joy so easily.  We also see others for the fallible people they really are and how fallible we are ourselves.  There is more forgiveness when we remember that we are all sinners.  There is more room for mistakes, too and forgiveness after someone hurts us.  

My other thought went along with this first thought.  I was holding Ellison as she drifted off to sleep just a few moments ago and thought I heard Xavier waking up.  I quickly prayed that he wasn't waking up because if he did, I knew he would come into Ellison's room crying and carrying on until he had all of my attention.  It doesn't matter to him that I have to get her down for a nap, too.  It doesn't matter to him how tired Ellison is.  Actually, none of Ellison's needs matter to Xavier because he is two and a half.  All he can see is himself.  Forget the sun.  The world truly does revolve around him.  And Xavier will continue to be like this unless we teach him otherwise.  It will be a process over time but he will learn empathy.  How many of us don't ever learn that?  How many of us truly still act as if our needs and wants are first and foremost?  How often do I act like a two-year-old but can disguise it as an adult-type tantrum?  

Joey and I have been married four years and we are still learning to get along.  It is a process.  We grew up differently and I was on my own way before Joey ever was.  I also lived for myself for a lot longer than Joey did.  Marriage and being in this relationship is harder for me in a lot of ways.  My tendency is to run.  When things get tough, I want to run.  Thankfully, I only run to our bedroom or the bathroom or the basement.  I don't go far but I still go...and I come back.  Joey and I are changing but we still struggle with trying to change each other.  Please know that whenever you start a sentence with "why can't you just....!" you are unfairly trying to control the other person and change them into the perfection you know they should be (ha ha).  Another good one is "if you would just....!"  Oh yeah.  That is going to solve a lot of problems (and create a lot more).  If people would stop trying to change each other and instead, take a look at their own part in the problem, I do believe we would all get closer to true joy.  An example of this goes back to my dear sweet son.

Xavier and I don't always get along.  In fact, he will push me away, bite, kick, pinch and hit me.  My tendency is to get super pissed and react.  This morning,  I asked God for change...but this time, I asked Him to change me, not Xavier.  Instead of reacting, I rolled with it.  I redirected.  I explained.  I taught.  I tolerated a little more.  I disciplined differently.  There are no immediate results of MY change but I didn't do this in hopes of changing Xavier.  I did this because my heart needed to.  I heard someone say the other day regarding their Christian father, "if God is anything like my dad, I don't want anything to do with Him."  That sank into my heart like a punch in the face.  I am NOT the perfect parent that God is but I do want to reflect God back to my son and daughter.  Maybe this will improve the relationship between Xavier and I and maybe it won't.  The goal is to teach X about Christ's love and do so by living it out.

So, those were my deep thoughts today...while scooping poop.  And I really think these thoughts were scooping the poop in my own life...the junk that needs to go away.  I don't want to just read it, pray it, think it, though.  I want the Holy Spirit to help me live the change...from the inside out.

Sunday, September 11, 2011

"Yesterday"

My husband said, "It seems like it was yesterday."

I said, "It seems like a lifetime ago."

I lived in a different city, away from my family. I was dating someone else. I had different friends. Joey Corr was just a guy I went to high school with who got his hair cut by my mom. There was no X-man. No Ellie Sparkles. I had such a different view of life. I didn't have Christ.

I miss the people I was close to back then but other than that, I am thankful for what I've been given 10 years later. It's weird...watching this special on September 11, 2001 while my baby giggles in her sleep.

Sunday, July 31, 2011

Baby Girl

I'm about to become a mother...again. Yes, my mama's baby girl is having a baby girl...I just don't know when. By now (as of today), I had already given birth to Xavier. I'm wondering if Ellison is going to make me wait this out. I feel my body changing but then it goes back to being the same. Of course, we started a home project of ripping up the floor in the front room yesterday and my house is a disaster...so I should go into labor tonight (ha ha).

Joey has been amazing. We were taking turns sleeping in the basement (something about my snoring sent Joey down there last week) but now, he thinks it is better if I sleep down there so I can save my energy up to deliver this baby. Xavier was sleeping through the night (and slept through two major thunderstorms last week) but is now up about 3 times a night for some reason. He's also not eating much. He's doing all of this to drive me crazy just before I have a newborn to take care of...I am on to his plan.

I'm feeling excited about meeting Ellison...but honestly, I'm getting a little too nervous about labor and delivery. It was not fun the first time but oddly enough, I hope things go just as well.

So, any day now, Ellison...any day now...

Thursday, April 01, 2010

Crying It Out

***Warning--this is a highly opinionated blog post***

When Xavier was just a few days old, Joey and I were sitting on our bed trying to figure out how to get him to sleep. He was crying. Joey suggested we let him "cry it out." I considered it. After all, I wasn't sure where I'd heard about crying it out before but it seemed like it was something I was supposed to do as a parent. Xavier went on crying for the next 30 seconds.

"Let's let him cry it out tomorrow," I said. And I might as well say that every day.

I read about "crying it out" in my Baby 411 book. The authors (who are doctors) tried to stress that you CANNOT SPOIL A NEWBORN. They have extremely immature nervous systems and do not know how to calm themselves down. Crying is also the only way babies know how to communicate. It made sense to me. It made me feel good because God forbid I start spoiling (aka ruining my child) this early in life.

On New Year's Day, Joey's well meaning aunts gave me the same advice: don't be afraid to let Xavier cry it out. I disagreed and they looked at me like I was just a foolish, new mom who didn't know anything, yet. But I do know the sound of my son's cries and how they alert me to his needs. Why would I want to stop them?

The idea of spoiling was in the Holy Bible but not THIS idea of spoiling. People seem to think if you hold your baby too much or respond to his needs too much, you will over indulge him. I was thinking about that the other day. Let's pretend I did let Xavier cry it out.

Xavier: (crying after 2 minutes of me letting him C.I.O.) Mom! My diaper is wet and uncomfortable. Please come change it!
Me: No, Xavier. Cry it out.
Xavier: (crying after 4 minutes of me letting him C.I.O.) Mom! I'm hungry and just need to eat so I can calm myself down!
Me: No. Cry it out.
Xavier: (crying hard after 7 minutes of me letting him C.I.O.) Mom! I don't know how to stop crying, yet. Please help me soothe myself and calm me! I'm spinning out of control.
Me: No. Cry it out.
Xavier: (still crying but realizing his cries are not being heard...or ignored) Mom? Where are you? I need you. I need you to help me. I need to be held and rocked and...
Perhaps this is when he does pass out after crying himself to sleep. And maybe the next night he goes straight to sleep because he has learned his crying will not get him what he needs.

Screw that. Seriously.

I was talking to a woman at bible study who has a daughter a few months older than Xavier. Of course, the question is always asked, "are you getting any sleep?" I gave my usual answer about how X wakes up every 2-3 hours to eat. Then, I asked her if she was getting sleep. She said yes. She and her husband were following the Babywise book which is where you basically let the baby cry it out. "You know, it was really, really hard but now, she sleeps through the night," this mom told me. You know, it was really, really hard because it is supposed to be. Those cries are there for a reason and bother mom for a reason.

To all other parents who want to C.I.O., go for it. But it really pisses me off when people suggest it to me. I will not leave my baby alone to cry and be ignored. F that. Instead, we are reading Happiest Baby On The Block. We started swaddling Xavier again (yes, at three months) and now he sleeps for 4 hours straight, wakes up briefly for a diaper change and to eat and then sleeps another 2 hours straight (and will sleep again for 2 hours after 1 more diaper change and eating session).

Now, when he is older...older than one year...I might but only when he is trying to manipulate me. That ain't happin' yet.

I thought perhaps my feelings on C.I.O. were a little too strong or maybe even a little naive until the other day when Joey said the following...out of the blue:
You know, my son deserves every bit of love I can give him. If I let him cry it out, I'm not loving him the way I should. I'm not going to do something just so it is more convenient for me.

I walked over and kissed him. See, we are on the same page...and I didn't even have to nag him :o)

Of course, this brings up a future topic...attachment parenting or baby training?