A van carted the three of us designated to speak about the virtues of rearing our own children off to CBS City Studios where we were cordially greeted by Brooks-yes, that's his first name which he claims is a result of his southern Cajun heritage (shown here freshly shorn). His repartee was funny and relaxing, his coffee perfect.

I read carefully through the agreement I needed to sign and marked a few questions and clarifications. While reading it, I noticed that I had to accede to not appear on any other talk shows for a specified time after the taping, and verify nor had I recently appeared on any others. I commented about it, and the other mom in the room said her sister had to sign something like that when she was on "What Not to Wear." I sat bolt up. "I knew you looked familiar. Was she your twin- the punk rocker/goth girl with black hair?" She affirmed my memory. Talk about six degrees of separation! We don't even have cable or watch television. I happened to be visiting my mother-in-law last spring and we watched her favorite new show "What Not to Wear" together- the exact one that featured my cohort's twin sister. I found that incredible.

A quiet beauty from wardrobe examined my choice of clothing and pronounced it not only acceptable, but well-chosen, and complimented the combination of colors. She applied a bit of Topstick-I am going to purchase some of that magnificent magic- to make the cardigan and camisole strong enough to support the mic. While standing in the their hovel of an office, I asked them if they watched Sex and the City. With their affirmation, I recalled the time when Carrie had access to the wardrobe department of Vogue and found the Manolo Blahnik Mary Janes ("I thought these were an urban legend"). The quick witted assistant assured me I would finding nothing like that here. This elicited a chuckle from the three of us.

My fashion examination completed, I was swept off to make-up. The artist had grown-up on a ranch that her dad rented to companies for filming. She came home everyday to something new happening, and after some observation, pronounced her future career as a "make-up man." We talked about the differing constitutions of dog breeds while she brushed, sponged, curled, and sprayed. Of course, I was taking careful mental note of the products- mostly MAC.

Now considered appropriately attired and suitably coiffed for television presentation, we were walked to the studio. Remember that contract I signed? I promised to not divulge the specifics of the taping until after the episode airs. They will let me know when that is to be and I will then be free to discuss. Of course there were things I wish I had thought of while in the discussion, things I wish I had remembered to say, but I think that it was lively and we all countered one another well. I did find it interesting that the career moms didn't seem to care to return my and Kristi's attempts at congeniality or warmth.

After the taping was over, Brooks escorted Kristi to her car, and I waited in a conference room with a soap opera on the television and some sandwiches on the table. A few minutes of waiting and enduring nauseating acting prompted me to open the door to seek assistance. I asked a guy sitting at a perfectly proximated desk if I could please have the channel changed. Silas (picture below) smiled, said yes, and attempted to show me a live taping of one of those dastardly shows (sorry Jeff-I simply can't stand them). However, there seemed to be none available. A pause in the surfing showed me that a mummified Jack Wagner is still in daytime television. Silas razzed me about recognizing him, but I quickly retorted that I remembered him from 20 years ago. I had him stop at HBO to catch the last of Matchstick Men. We agreed it is a great film, that Sam Rockwell is an eclectic actor, choosing interesting roles over glitz and glam. He recommended Shattered Glass to me which I shall pick up next week. I covertly left the door open so he could feign interest in his work while actually watching soap operas all day long.

Silas. He and Sehnita actually posed together, but both attempts to capture them resulted in being better of the other, so I cropped.

At an intersection of work stations, Charlie and Sara sat playing a game of "State Names in Country Songs." Each time I passed, I heard them laughing. I once gave me offering of "All My Ex's" -which covers two states- and "Okie from Muskogee" and that propelled Charlie to recall quite a few more. Their pleasantness was contagious, and they indulged me when I asked for a picture.

Charlie and Sara.

Sehnita found me a little while later after kindly retrieving a Diet Dr. Pepper for me. We determined that something sweet was now in order, and she lead me through the cubicle labyrinth to the break room stocked with snacks, sweets, and other handy sundries. We had decided for the twentieth time to walk across the street and retrieve real food, but kept stopping to chat along the way. T invited me into her office and there I stayed for the next two and a half hours. We talked about everything under the sun-parenting, politics, how good Oprah looks, religion- all those topics one isn't supposed to be able to discuss in new company and yet it was all so intriguingly fluid. We engaged in some serious and rollicking conversation. She literally had me laughing so hard I was crying ("Johnny N."- T) I returned volley ("Rectangle") and I truly believe some bonds of friendship were formed. T is a beautiful, intelligent, animated, woman. She made the experience so enjoyable.

T.

When we finished, Sehnita (my original contact and one of the producers for this show) and I walked over to "The Grove." The smells and sights were rich and almost intoxicating. It made me a little disheartened to have to return to the cold and dust of Utah when I was seeing, breathing, soaking in such diversity right through my skin and into my soul. We further discussed the challenges of the choices ahead of her. Sehnita is very introspective and I think that when the time comes for her, she will make the best decision and not regret it. She is quite attractive and I was impressed with her hospitality and graciousness, and found her to be generous and warm. I finally decided on a delicious crepe salad to go, and then we walked up to the mall section, stepping aside to allow a trolley to pass. We made a quick pass through Banana Republic and then strode into Barnes and Noble to grab a coffee. I also decided a slice of Italian Lemon Cream Cake to top off my salad was a necessity. We arrived back at the studio in time for me to collect my things and to say good-bye.

Sehnita.

As I was riding in my car to LAX, I asked the driver if he could play my Garden State CD. I discerned that his ethnicity was Latino and so we spoke mostly in Spanish. He played the CD for me, even turning it up nice and loud (he had a very good system because I heard things in the music that I had been unaware were even there) while we cruised on through the city streets. I put the window down and ate my salad and cake, watching the many people, noting the architecture of the different buildings, and the plethora of ethnicities represented in the store fronts. The driver really liked the CD and I already have it burned to my computer, so I left it with him when he dropped me off at the airport.

My first word was jet. I have always had an curious interest in planes and in the past three years have had a driving desire to learn to fly one. I love the take off, especially out of LAX, going out over the Pacific coast and then banking back east. The landing is so powerful, racing along the runway at 200 miles per hour. It always gives me a kind of adrenaline rush- the good kind, the excited "this-is-a-bit-dangerous" kind.

It was a lovely way to end an engaging and surreal trip.

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Marvelous account; thanks, Rae.

by Greg on February 26, 2005 04:06 PM

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Thanks for the recount, but now the important stuff. Did you say my name on T.V.?

Seriously, I am glad it you had a nice trip.
K

by Special K on February 26, 2005 04:49 PM

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Rae, I am so glad you had a good time. I have alwaya wanted a fun adventure. It sounds like you had one. Glad your back home!LOve ya

by Sally on February 27, 2005 11:18 AM

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Glad you're back safe and sound. You were in my prayers over the weekend. Keep us posted on the airing, that would be cool to catch.

by Joyella on February 27, 2005 05:56 PM

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K- I will be calling you with details this week :D

Greg- thank you :D

Sally and Joyella- thank you. It is good to be home. It was kind of like a dream, so to watch it will be even more interesting. I will definitely post it.

by Rae on February 27, 2005 08:37 PM

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Wow, exciting. But is everyone on the staff 18 yo??

by jeff on February 27, 2005 10:22 PM

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They do look great, don't they, Jeff?

I don't think they are all as young as you suppose, and I did see more faces than this, but these were the people with whom I specifically interacted.

by Rae on February 28, 2005 08:55 AM

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Hi

I regularly stop in and visit your blog. I've enjoyed much of what you've said. I'm glad you enjoyed your time in LA. I lived there for about 11 years and am glad to be out. But that's another story. :-) I did have a question, however. I've had a good-natured running battle with my niece and nephew, both music lovers, technically adept and in their early 20's, about fair usage and copyright laws. This comes up for them frequently because of the availability of music on the web and CD burning. I've argued with them that burning a CD and then giving the original away to a friend is not fair usage and constitutes an infraction against the copyright laws. Now you mentioned this in connection with leaving the Cabbie your original CD because you'd burned a copy. Is this an issue for you, or not really of that great importance? Just curious. Whatever the answer I enjoy your blog.

Take Care

Brad

by Brad on February 28, 2005 12:44 PM

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Hi, Brad. I am glad that something prompted you to comment.

Can you first let me know about how long you have been reading my blog, maybe how you stumbled upon it, any other blogs you read, etc.

Good question and I might answer it, but first want to know a bit more about you.

by Rae on February 28, 2005 02:20 PM

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Hi Rae

I think I've been reading you regularly for the last 6 months. How I found you is the same way I found a lot of other sites; some other site recommended you or an article you wrote, I read it and liked it and put you in my Blog favorites. Since then you've become a fairly regular stop for me. Here are some of the others I look at regularly.

http://brandywinebooks.blogspot.com/
http://www.challies.com/
http://boarsheadtavern.com/
http://jollyblogger.typepad.com/jollyblogger/
http://lashawnbarber.com/index.php
http://maverickphilosopher.blogspot.com/
http://www.marlaswoffer.com/
http://www.thinklings.org/
http://everydaymusings.blogspot.com/
http://merecomments.typepad.com/

I'm a Christian interested in books and interacting apologetically within the culture. I guess I've enjoyed the mix you present of homey material and critiques about society. Sometimes light and sometimes serious. Good balance. Is there more you'd like to know? My question was prompted by my interaction with my niece and nephew and a curiosity about how other Christians are dealing with it.

Take care Rae

Brad

by Brad on February 28, 2005 02:46 PM

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Thanks, Brad. You never know who is asking what and why.

Thanks also for the thoughts about my writing.

The question: I never file share and only pay for the songs that I download from the internet (via iTunes).

:D

by Rae on February 28, 2005 03:04 PM

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It is a subject on which I frequently dilate and have confidence in so doing, but the thought of being on camera mortifies me- can you say extremely nervous? Yesterday I attempted to watch the show and my stomach got queasy just thinking about being up there.

I have set up some security safety nets for the identity protection of my family. E jokingly told me this was her vicarious "big chance" and that I just needed to take along a glossy 8x10 of her, look right into the camera, and give her contact info and theatre history. In serious thought about doing this, I came to several conclusions: 1) There is a paradigm that when a woman opts to care for the child(ren) that she conceived, delivered, and is ultimately responsible for "full-time" (i.e. no other "care giver"), that she must lose her identity in doing so. Why do we think this way and what has contributed to this archetype? I am certainly not the beau ideal, but I think that we need to look for the windows and doors in a room instead of seeing the walls. 2) The thought also prevails that the women who choose to be home full-time have wealthy husbands that provide the measure needed to be there. I don't deny that can be true in many circumstances, but I have found it to be the exception, not the standard. Many women give-up the pursuit of driving new cars, having custom built homes, new furniture, designer clothes, name brand grocery/household products, power lunches, reward trips to Hawaii or Cancun. R and I made the decision and then acted. The principle decided the action. We could wait for those things, but felt that instilling our values and world view, taking the most malleable time of our children's lives, could not wait; would not be put off or allowed a paltry three to four hours a day, plus weekends.

Why not take my wonderful, unique self and instead of pouring it into a company whose ultimate goal is to be profitable for the shareholders, or if a private company, one person/family, and disembogue my greatest energies into the souls of four permanent human beings? When I choose to "stay-at-home" I sacrifice my potential career, and at what cost? Delayed monetary gain? When a woman chooses a career, what is she choosing to sacrifice for it? And at what cost?

I am not saying that a woman cannot be a good mother should she decide to pursue a career while she has young children. But, your children only have one mother. You only have this opportunity to be with them. Is it hard? You bet. Exhausting? Absolutely. Regrettable? Momentarily. Redoable? Sorry, no.

Opportunity passed along from Jo, via Nathan. Thanks....I think?

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I'm glad you were able to make contact and get on the show. I hope it works out well.

...why they don't care about homeschooling fathers is beyond me...[grumble, grumble, moan, complain]

by Nathan on February 22, 2005 09:46 AM

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Congrats Rae. Cheryl and I had this discussion so often. We have done it both ways, and despite the media's efforts to equivocate between working moms and stay-at-home moms, there really is no comparison. Cheryl often said she was thankful for her disease, because it made it easier for her to stay at home and be with her child(ren), and for us as a team to support it.

by Greg on February 22, 2005 10:38 AM

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Kewl!

by Ith on February 22, 2005 10:56 AM

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Wow Rae congrats!!!! I hope you do well, Ahh what am I saying, you will do great! You have always liked a good debate and I will surely tune in when it airs. Congrats again. Love ya, Sally

by sally on February 22, 2005 11:07 AM

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I know you will do GREAT!

by Randy on February 22, 2005 12:35 PM

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That's outstanding!

And to think we knew ya when. . . ;)

by Craig on February 22, 2005 12:47 PM

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Wow! You will be fantastic! I know you say that your tounge gets you into trouble sometimes, but you have a gift of being able to speak your mind and argue well. I on the other hand have a difficult time trying to figure out how I feel much less communicating it to someone.

by Amy Jo on February 22, 2005 10:02 PM

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Aren't you even going to mention that by "participate in the Larry Elder Show" you're actually in seat 10 of row G in the audience? ;-)

by David on February 23, 2005 12:57 PM

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I'm so happy someone is going to bat for staying home and bringing up kids - like traditional mother's once did - like my mom did for me. I wrote about this same thing in my blog.

http://underdogpov.blogspot.com/2005/02/women-of-greatest-generation.html

I also write about working hard to be like the greatest generation - the people who survived the depression and won WWII.

But I lost readership because no one wants to read about working hard, or being responsible.

I'm just so glad I happened upon this website today. It restored my faith!

Thank you and good luck in L.A. Wish I could join you! I fear you may be alone in your opinion. But my prayers are with you.

by Underdog on February 23, 2005 01:05 PM

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This is just too cool! Just remember deep breathing exercises before you go on. Helps a lot. Once on and talking, focus on talking to the host as if you were having a conversation in your living room. Remember to try and smile. People not use to being on camera tend to have a what looks like a dour face. You can even deep breathe onstage, just make it subtle so people can't tell. And be ready to have your answers as consice and brief as possible. TV time goes by very fast.

by Rightwingsparkle on February 23, 2005 07:32 PM

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Be sure to really "tell them!" Have a great time and "then" be sure to tell us when it's televised! :)

by chrys on February 24, 2005 03:33 AM

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Rae: Great news ! hope you have a great time at the show.

by Eduardo on February 24, 2005 05:01 AM

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Thank you all :D

And thanks RWS for the tv tips. I was just trying not to give-in to wretch from nervousness.

by Rae on February 24, 2005 08:28 AM

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It is strange to think that she is doing this. Please pray for her safety and effectiveness in the message. These talk shows can be brutal.

by R on February 24, 2005 06:58 PM

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Im suppose to be on the show Friday...deciding tomorrow..Ive been on Donahue and a few others years ago and swore Id never go on again..Never say never....any tips..hardly watch the show....Don't know him well...whats the audience like....hopefully not like Springer..or I won't show..let me know ...on both please..I got very nervous too on Donahue but it was a good high!
Thank You So Much...sorry it was about all me!!!!!
Mark Anthony

by Mark Anthony on April 6, 2005 03:08 AM

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« Hide Comments!

*word courtesy of
Cindy.

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I like it. Nice.

by Nathan on February 22, 2005 09:48 AM

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Love it. Nice Birthday present.

by Randy on February 22, 2005 12:34 PM

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Pam cleverly knows Rae - Great banner - already forgot what was there before ;-)

by chrys on February 22, 2005 02:52 PM

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:D

You're going to make me cry...!

by pam on February 22, 2005 02:57 PM

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Beautiful. I like it.

by Eduardo on February 23, 2005 04:06 AM

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I like it. Now if we could just get a brighter color scheme. But then, I have florid taste.

by jeff on February 23, 2005 09:57 AM

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Hmm, so maybe a light pink background? I like the grey posting background, I am thinking whatever that little area is called that's behind my banner might be better pink?

by Rae on February 23, 2005 12:24 PM

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Mom worked the early morning shift and so I had to get up early to be off to daycare. One morning I found that my favored white go-go boots were too small. I threw a fit. I mean a fit. I still remember being bitterly disappointed that I could no longer prance around to Terry Jack's "Seasons in the Sun" (see, even as a child I showed a preference for the melancholy) wearing them. That year was the one that my mother gently shook me awake to wish me happy birthday before she left for work. I remember asking her how old I was now. "Four, honey." I had a chocolate cake with four pink plastic ballerinas in permanently posed pirouettes.

In 1976, I was finally introduced to the stepfather's parents. My existence having been sprung suddenly on them the Christmas before, they surprised me by driving up for my birthday. A strawberry cake with pink frosting, and more gifts than I had ever seen had been packed neatly in a cardboard box and driven all that way, just for me. They had even prepared dinner and then reheated it. After tucking me into bed, they made the trek home. Through the radio on the drives to and from school, Barry sang about writing songs that made girls cry; Elton and Kiki pleaded for someone not to break their heart; Paul admonished the listener to let someone in; and somewhere, the boys were back in town. My favorite new band was Wings.

1983 I was 13. I hosted my first co-ed party complete with a cake in the shape of a skate made by my aunt who was living with us at the time. We ate the cake on the screened-in porch dripping with streamers and dotted with balloons. I quickly opened the gifts, briefly thanked everyone for kindly having their mothers pick something out for me, and we piled into Aunt's VW wagon to head to the skating rink. We rolled round and round and round to Men at Work, Bonnie Tyler, The Police, Stevie Miller, Thomas Dolby, Prince, Jacko, The Pretenders, Toto, Asia. Chicago always crooned the annoying "slowskate."

Eighteen years old, a senior and finally on my way out the door to my "own" life, I held another chaperoned co-ed party to usher me into adulthood. It was clean, no alcohol, but a few of the guys did show up a little sauced. We feed them lots of food, laughed at their antics, and then made sure a sober driver got them home. The girls and I took the party back to my house for an overnighter, complete with movies (Ladyhawke and Some Kind of Wonderful), games I invented, food, and too much talking. I was told that at one point, deep in the night and deep in sleep, I sat up and asked one of the girls if she ever shut up. Nice girl that I was, I apologized. She forgave. While skating rinks were no longer the big thing, the music we listened to still moved us: U2, Inxs, The Outfield, Crowded House, Billy Idol, The Cutting Crew, Robert Palmer, Pet Shop Boys, Peter Gabriel John Cougar Mellencamp, Steve Winwood, The Bangles, George Michael, Guns-n-Roses, Duran Duran.

I have spent the last 16 birthdays with R and he makes every effort to make me feel celebrated, loved, and appreciated specifically on this day. He and the children prepare every meal I request, clean-up, give gifts, and are basically at my complete disposal. It is a day of dreams for most women. Yet, each year, although I know that my husband will do his best to make my day terrific, I get a little down. Turning 30 was hard. So that year, it was even worse. After a few months, I realized that anticipating it had been far worse than actually living it. (Well, that and I delivered my last child in the late spring. You decide which relieved me the most). It's not getting older that gets me down. Every year I never know if I am going to hear anything, any acknowledgment, from the one, the only one still around, that witnessed my birth, my entrance into this world. Some years she gives extravagant gifts, others she completely forgets. Sometimes I answer the phone days later to an apologetic voice giving detailed excuses. I used to feel the need to alleviate her guilt, but one year, I decided to just let her talk until she quit and then said, "Thank you for calling me now. It really hurt my feelings that you can't seem to get the day of my birth straight." She apologized again and attempted to make-up for it by sending me a terrifically expensive gift from some home retail show. The next year she called me two days early to send her many happy returns of the day. When I told her that this wasn't the day, she confessed to not quite remembering the exact day and confusing it with some other major event that happens in February. I reminded her that according to the first eighteen years of my life, it was, indeed, the twentieth.

Each year I swear off allowing it to affect me, but this time, I gave in. I let myself realize that I while my mother loves me to the extent that she knows how, she will never get it exactly right. It made me so depressed to face this. But tonight as I looked around the table, saw the loving faces warmly illuminated by candles, heard the deep voice swirled with the higher pitch, received the gentle little cheeks pressed against my own, felt the scruff of the goatee against my lips and chin, I realized these people are getting it just perfectly.

This year I received a gorgeous ring in the mail. It is pretty, like my mother. Pretty to look at, to have in ones possession, to adorn oneself with, but not warm and affectionate. I know that it will fetch compliments. I know I will say, "Oh, my mother gave this to me." I know the person will walk away and think "how special that girl must be to her mother." I know that this thought will bring her pleasure. I know that I have to just let it be a pretty ring on the hand that looks just like her own, and walk off to the true reflection of being loved and special and valued, waiting for me at home.

Oh, and music still transports me, but I now find the compositions' geneses from within.

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DAMN AND BLAST IT! I'm so sorry I missed it! I even marked it on my little calendar thingie on this here 'puter. . .but then I worked all day and then had to wrassle the computer away from The Boy™ and I just knew -- JUST KNEW -- I was forgetting something. . .

Ah heck, Rae. I'm so sorry. I hope it was a beautiful beautiful day for you. Because you so very muchly deserve it.

With love,
M

by Margi on February 21, 2005 03:16 AM

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Rae,

FELIZ CUMPLEAÑOS!!!

Seriously, may you have the happiest of birthdays. And, you're right; love and care is infinitely better than gold and silver.

Blessings,
Eduardo

by Eduardo on February 21, 2005 04:46 AM

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Margi, no big deal :D Thank you for the thoughts :D

Eduardo-how are you? Thank you for the birthday wishes in español :D And thanks, too, for your encouraging thoughts. In fact, you words remind me of one of my favorite older praise songs: "Lord You Are."

by Rae on February 21, 2005 08:27 AM

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Happy belated birthday, Rae! Your account of birthdays past was very moving. I'm sorry that your mom can't seem to get it right (I have such a hard time relating to a mom like that :(), but I'm glad your loved ones *are* getting it right.

And thanks for the musical trip down memory lane. :)

by Cindy Swanson on February 21, 2005 09:31 AM

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Rae: I'm fine, ma'am! Only that I'm crushed under a 1000-ton pile of jobs that need to be done (nothing unusual by the way).

Hope your loved ones pamper you the way you rightly deserve (well, at least for me, the proposition that wives and daughters live to be endlessly pampered is axiomatic!)

Blessings,

Eduardo

by Eduardo on February 21, 2005 12:49 PM

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I will not give you excuses, just know that you are loved and I truely hope you had an awesome 30th Birthday!!!! Okay so I said I wouldn't give you any excuses, BUt that dosen't mean I can't throw you a give complement!!!!! I will try harder next year sis!! Love ya ,Sally

by Sally on February 21, 2005 02:53 PM

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I was looking for a post like this yesterday?!? Nah - Can't be late - if you don't know the date? Never did have literary talent - or much else either - - HAPPY BIRTHDAY RAE ;-)

by chrys on February 21, 2005 03:07 PM

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[Belated] Happy Birthday, Rae. Hope it was a grand day!

by Greg on February 21, 2005 10:19 PM

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Important for this day:

http://wordpark.com/blog.html

by chrys on February 22, 2005 12:19 AM

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If you feel bad about getting older, just think of this: no matter how old you get, I'll always be older.

Now granted, it's only by about 4 weeks, but ya gotta take what you can get! :)

by Craig on February 22, 2005 01:00 PM

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Good food, a really big picture and a happy birthday to you.

by R on February 24, 2005 07:00 PM

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Escalators presented problems for me, as well; all those steps rising and disappearing were just too creepy. Instead of helping me understand my fear, my mother reacted to me with frustration, embarrassment, anger. She was forced to take the steps so many times because of me, yanking me by the hand; I double-timed each one, desperately hiding my relief so as not to provoke her further.

It is obvious to me now that I was afraid of being swallowed up; forgotten, and there would be no proof that my pitiful life had even existed. I desperately wanted a witness that I had been here, that I had lived and breathed. Each day I was forgotten by the one who gave birth to me, and if a mother can so easily forget her child, how easy could it be for the child's very existence to just fade away? I wanted my life, meager and depressing as it was, to not go unnoticed.

Years later, R and I sat in church, the older two children somewhere in the building happily listening to a story told with miniature Richard Burton-Elizabeth Tayloresque felts, and the baby C was sleeping on my lap. The sanctuary was warm, and the pastor's voice drizzled over my head and into my ears, sticky and thick. My mind drifted and my eyebrows repeatedly hiked up my eyelids in an effort not to give into the sleep that was tempting me. From somewhere in the fuzziness of my head, I heard "Though my father and mother have forsaken me, the Lord will take me up." The pastor briefly referenced the quoted scripture and went on with his sermon. Psalm 27:10. I have never forgotten it. In that moment, I knew that God was assuring me with the man at my side, the sleeping babe on my lap, the two other little girls contentedly coloring in another room, the one that would be making her way to us in a few years, that a tiny part of me would always continue to be present on this earth. I would not soon be forgotten. But even deeper than that, I realized that should the memory of his wife, or their mother somehow escape them, the Lover of My Soul, would never, could never, remove me from His heart; couldn't forget. I wouldn't be swallowed up by all the sadness, all the pain, all the neglect. The greatest crevasse had been jumped in that second of realization, and I had landed safe and secure on the other side.

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I have never understand how you can take something so simple as a fear to cross open spaces and turn into a beautiful story of how you overcame it and how it changed your life. You have this way of making your stories turn into wonderful works of art on paper (or in this case), screen. If you ever write a book and it is published (or not) I want to be one of the first to read it. I love you

by Sally on February 11, 2005 02:17 PM

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I agree with Sally.
Despite what you have been through in all of your life, you are a great mother and wife and sister and daughter and soon to be sister-in-law. I am so proud to be able to call you that! It's amazing when you see people take bad experiences and turn them into something beneficial. And you do this well! [I, however, do not!] Seriously, you make me want to be a better woman. love you.

by Ann on February 11, 2005 03:45 PM

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Rae, these PYTs (Prince) need to hear the enduring story of the RUBBERBANDS!! GAFAW (phonetic spelling of a very loud laugh);-)

Love and miss ya, Kelli

by Special K on February 11, 2005 04:30 PM

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He always knows exactly what we need and how to say it, doesn't He? Thank you for the reminder of His tenderness to us, Rae. I didn't know I needed it until I read your post.

by Cindy on February 11, 2005 05:29 PM

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Lovely, well written.

by Greg on February 12, 2005 06:39 PM

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Sally- I had to take something simple and make it into something pretty and acceptable in order to live ;) Thank you, sis.

Ann-seeing what has come of me and considering where I've come from is what compelled my belief in predestination. There is no other way that it makes logical sense. I believe with time, Ann, you will be able to take anything that you find challenging and try to make some sense out of it, and find a way to see it making you stronger.

Special K- your order has been filled ;)

Cindy- your writing always reminds me to see God's hand in everything in my life; making the mundance magnificent.

Greg- thank you.

by Rae on February 13, 2005 07:16 PM

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::: resting my eyes for a moment, breeze rustles through the spirit. Not alone...Comfort comes :::

Rae, in June a lot of people will be reading about my own abandonment...this post...well...there aren't any more words but thanks.

by VeilTraveler on February 14, 2005 08:18 PM

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I look forward to reading, Randy and I am glad that this touched your heart.

by Rae on February 15, 2005 07:54 AM

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It started innocently enough. Our mailbox was about 100 yards from the house, and part of my daily ritual was to put children down for an afternoon rest and walk up to retrieve the mail. Our carrier would frequently place all the letters inside the daily newspaper, fold it over, and rubber band it. Something snapped in me one day as I reached into the box and pulled out the small bundle. As I walked back through the stiff and dying grass, I began to push the rubber band back and forth with my index finger. I found myself salivating at the thought of chewing on it; the rubber band, not my index finger. I slipped the band off, and popped it into my mouth, chewing furiously. I don't know why, nor do I want to, but I was immediately hooked.

I began to see them everywhere:carelessly dropped on the floors of dressing rooms and airports; thoughtlessly thrown on the dashboards of cars; placed neatly in little cups on the desks of administrative assistants; and almost everyday, in my mailbox, waiting for me. When in church on Wednesday evenings, I would make my way quickly into the office and help myself to the choicest ones hidden in a box in the supply cabinet.

It wasn't long before my secret addiction became known. I would be found chewing something and politely asked for a piece of gum. When it was revealed that I was not, in fact, chewing gum, I would receive a strange look. But when R asked little A one day what she was chewing and it was found to be a rubber band, and when asked why she had such a disgusting thing in her mouth, and she said "Mommy chews them everyday. The mailwoman brings them to her," they were declared contraband. Not only was I restrained from my small, inexpensive daily- hourly- delight, but he employed my best friend to assist his policing efforts. "Special K" was appalled and disgusted, but not so much that she wouldn't point one out, peaking from under a clothing rack, just to watch me squirm. R would, in mock Middle Eastern accent, proclaim "Put dee waste into dee vat of rubber for the stupid Amereecans. We will poison dem from within." When he attended a prenatal visit, he vigorously questioned the safety of rubber band chewing for the health of our unborn child. When the OB couldn't point to anything specifically, but thought it was, in general, not a healthy practice, R felt vindicated and supported. (Although, I am sure my file is marked in some secret way revealing my shameful habit).

Several months and a very strange labor later, K came out with five fingers on each hand, and all ten toes. She is practically perfect in every way and demonstrates a very high intelligence.

Must have been the rubber bands.

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Just here to keep ya humble;-)

by Special K on February 11, 2005 07:46 PM

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This is a pure case of airing one's own dirty laundry. I can't believe it. Replace the band chewing habit with:ear wax eating, booger eating, toe nail biting, armpit sniffing....
I don't understand the need to tell the world all of one's weird habits. But since it is popular in this forum, I am a booger eater.

by R on February 12, 2005 02:38 PM

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Sorry R, i can't say that i am with you on the booger eating. however, i do often crave a little chew on some silly putty. That amazing rubbery taste as it squeeks against your teeth. mmmmmm

by nick on February 12, 2005 09:03 PM

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Hands down, the oddest craving I've heard about. :)

by kat on February 14, 2005 06:14 PM

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Just joking on the nose nugget eating. To salty and slick.

by R on February 14, 2005 06:55 PM

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GROSS! Gone to Puke!

by Special K on February 25, 2005 04:27 AM

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You know, chewing on things is said to help organize thoughts. It's no wonder your child is so very smart.

by trisha on October 18, 2005 07:49 PM

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You know, chewing on things is said to help organize thoughts. It's no wonder your child is so very smart.

by trisha on October 18, 2005 07:50 PM

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I can't believe that I have found a fellow rubber band eater. I can remember doing it as a young child and grew out of it then a couple of years ago started again and can't seem to kick the habit. Does anybody know if they are toxic?

by janet on November 5, 2005 12:15 PM

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Rolls: Oven to 400° F.
(1) Disolve yeast in milk.
(2) Mix in sugar, butter, salt, eggs, flour. Mix well.
(3) Turn dough out onto lightly floured surface. Knead into a large ball. Cover; let rise 1 hour.
(4) Roll dough into a 21" x 16" wide rectangle. With the butter softened, I just use my fingers to spread it generously over the dough. Load 'er up with the filling (see below).
(5) Roll from long-side to short-side. Pinch the ends.
(6) Using very sharp knife (I prefer a serated one) cut into 1 inch wide rolls, making sixteen. If want fewer, bigger rolls, cut them wider.
(6) Grease (butter) your preferred baking pan (I like mine to be all squished up next to the other)- I generally use an 11"x 15" pan. Then place rolls in pan and into oven. Let the rolls rise for 30 minutes.
(8) Bake until the rolls are slightly browned and not doughy. This will vary according to your oven. Just don't overbake.
(9) When done, take 'em out and cover them in the delicious icing.
(10) Do I have to admonish you to "enjoy?" Surely not. Then go eat!

Filling:
While dough is rising, prepare the filling and the icing. Clean-up a little and then go read a chapter or two in your book.
(1)Soften butter, so that it is spreadable.
(2) After dough has been rolled out to the gigantic rectangle, spread the softened butter all over.
(3) Sprinkle brown sugar over entire buttered rectangle. Use more if you like more.
(4) Now sprinkle the cinnamon over the now sugary, buttery, doughy, rectangle.

Icing:
Cream it all together with an electric mixer (or by hand if you just want to exhaust yourself for some reason). Spread on hot rolls.

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Is it THE Cinnabon recipe??

by jeff on February 8, 2005 10:47 AM

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THE recipe, Jeff.

Tastes exactly like them, unless you make extra-icing, spoon it on, and don't charge yourself extra.

by Rae on February 8, 2005 10:56 AM

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Gee thanks, Rae! I gained five pounds just reading this! :)

by Cindy Swanson on February 8, 2005 11:08 AM

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Yum! Thanks for sharing! I will definitely be making these rolls this weekend - as an official kick-off to my 2 week vacation! woo hoo!

by GrumpyBunny on February 8, 2005 12:50 PM

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Heheh, sorry, Cindy :D

GB- hey hon! Saw your list over at Joan's :D Yes, would be an excellent kick-off to your vacation. Make plenty to eat at whim.

by Rae on February 8, 2005 01:05 PM

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Rae if this is the ONE I am thinking about I can't wait to make it. I only hope it is as good as yours.!!!!

by Sally on February 8, 2005 01:07 PM

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Outstanding!

by Greg on February 8, 2005 01:58 PM

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Rae,

You are submitting this recipe to this week's Carnival of the Recipes, aren't you? Yum!
Send the link to recipe.carnival@gmail.com

by Beth on February 8, 2005 04:35 PM

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You could have called me Rae. I would have emailed it to you. I was thinking of making some today.....

by Amy on February 9, 2005 12:03 PM

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Mmmmmmm. I just want some of your bread.

Yeah, like I would have asked you, on bead rest, hardly able to move, to get up just to look for a recipe for me? Uh-uh. Wanted that boy and you to be safe.

by Rae on February 9, 2005 01:48 PM

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I ran across your site the other day when this post was the current one. Guess who spent more time on dessert than dinner that day? Yum, and they were good.

Thanks!

by Megan on February 10, 2005 12:59 PM

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MMMMMMuch better than the one's I made in experimentation this week. Still, I'm lazier than thou, so I'll probably just do the mixing and kneading in a bread maker... Did I mention I'm lazier than thou?

:-)

by David on February 12, 2005 07:54 AM

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Oh no! This is bad, really bad! Never mind the diet, this is needed on Sunday morning, at least once!

by Kathianne on February 12, 2005 07:42 PM

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This recipe came from Todd Wilbur's book Tope Secret Recipes book.

by Drayer on February 20, 2005 07:04 AM

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I wouldn't know what book it came from, as it was shared with me by one of my best friends. Somewhere back in the archives, I mention that she made them when they came to visit us. People began landing here in search of the recipe, which I shared via pdf with those who asked for it.

When we got a new computer (and have yet to transfer the old files off the hard drive to the new one), I didn't have access to the recipe anymore and couldn't find it in my group of recipes.

So, I can only presume you to be correct. And?

by Rae on February 20, 2005 08:48 AM

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Thank you very much, I'll come back to read later. By the way, any particular book you like that has helped you write better?

by Jeani on February 23, 2005 05:11 PM

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I hope I'm reading the recipe right, is that one and a fourth ounces of yeast(1-1/4) , or one (1/4) ounce of yeast?

by Sharon D. Harris on February 24, 2005 05:02 PM

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Thank you so much! I was craving cinnamon rolls so bad this morning and of course on Sunday, nothing good is open!! I better get started!

by Traci on February 27, 2005 11:54 AM

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if you roll long side to short side arent you saying that you're rolling from the corners or what??

by Lexi on March 31, 2005 02:41 PM

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Guess who kept her end of the bargain? Guess who got a guinea pig because R always keeps his word (it is his bond)? So, two years ago, we got a very handsome little guy from Petco. He was immediately frightened at the sound of so many female voices cooing over his cuteness and so many hands reaching toward him. He settled in nicely, and after a few months of reminding K that pigs bite when they don't like something, I think they finally came to an understanding of one another's personal space.

Last year sometime, E approaches her father about purchasing a second guinea pig. "They are herd animals, Daddy. He's lonely." Apparently, he was missing a different kind of herd than we provided. She confessed to wanting to give Chub a chance to spread his genetics. R thinking this would be a healthy way to show some responsibility, again, agreed. Remember, I kept myself completely out of the entire pig project.

So, a few weeks later, Yummi Puff, a very pretty parti colored blue-eyed guinea was purchased. She is shy and demure. Just what Chub wanted. We left for our trip to MO in November, and placed them in the care of our minister's family. I warned her that Chub was getting a little tired of her refusing him and had turned to more aggressive behavior. I called to check on the pigs and was told that I could be sure Chub had prevailed. Apparently they weren't too quiet and awakened the youngest son on Thanksgiving Day morning. I apologized for their lack of decorum.

We began to doubt when we saw no visible signs of pregnancy in "Puff." However, a few weeks ago, she all of a sudden seemed rather rounded. Sure enough, we felt the movement of wee pigs. So, began the vigil. We watched and pampered and feed lettuces and parsley and Broccoli and carrots and Pink Lady apples to the mother-to-be. We anticipated the birth according to the conception date to occur sometime this week.

This morning I returned home from my morning exercise (physical and mental, H and I discussed the doctrine of the Trinity this morning), filled my cup with coffee and cream and came downstairs. Before getting settled at my computer, I checked on Puff. As soon as I raised the box, I could see a dark something lying next to her. I set the cup down, and called to E. It wasn't moving, was cold and it's cord hadn't been properly removed. We rubbed and massaged. I blew a few gentle breaths into it's lungs. Nothing. We heard Puff begin to grunt, so I passed the baby over to E to continue our resuscitative efforts. Sure enough, another one was coming. She was having some difficulty. This one was at least attempting to breathe. Puff bit the cord and began to lick the pup. I don't know what went wrong, but she began to ignore it. Again, we massaged; again we breathed. We made every effort within our knowledge to help this perfectly formed little pup to live.

Although we were assured they were truly dead, we placed them back into the hutch with their mother. She lay down beside them, occasionally licking. We immediately recognized traits of Chub and Puff- one had a rosette, the other some parti-colors mixed in with his mostly black coat; tiny legs and paws; itty bitty teeth. We took Puff into the vet because she seemed to have some excessive bleeding, but by the time we made it there, she was doing better. The vet affirmed our efforts and took the pups. Out of curiosity, he weighed them and then weighed Puff. Their combined weight was one half pound. She weighed two pounds. They were rather large and he concluded that contributed to their deaths.

The girls were sad and disappointed. Death, even of the smallest creature is hard to understand, but healthy to learn to accept.

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I was a kid once, went through many gerbils and hamsters and guneia pigs. I'm not saying the way the babies died was a good thing - but it's better than your kids finding out that the mother decided to eat the babies (which sometimes happens with rodents.) I had a couple "what happened to the babies episodes," as well as a couple "why did that gerbil eat his brother" episodes. It's good if your kids understand the difference in morals between rodents and humans, as I'm sure they do. Just buy Chub a bunch of females - one of them is likely to succeed, and Chub will certainly enjoy the process.

by Hector Vex on February 1, 2005 02:06 PM

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I have had my share of gerbils, only boys, no baby episodes. But I witnessed the birth of kittens, and that was awesome. We (my folks) now raise chickens, and some breeds, or just some hens do not make good mommies. I don't know why. They will brood and then stop, then the eggs with little bitty forming chicks inside will die. Sometimes we will warm them under a lamp, and sometimes it works, but not usually. Perhaps Puff didn't have the instincts to be a good mommy to the piglets? I think these pet store pets are overbred, and are a little "off" at times because of it -(I've had bad experiences with pet store animals). Did you bury them like in Garden State?

by Joyella on February 1, 2005 09:21 PM

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Hector- can't decide if we should attempt another traumatic experience.

Joyella- Chub was from Petco, but Puff was from private breeder. I don't know. I think she was young; they were big; I am not sure.

Did you bury them like in Garden State?
Heheh. No. We thought about it and talked about it, but with two cats and a dog, E and I were concerned that one day we would "find" them again.

by Rae on February 1, 2005 09:33 PM

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I think you need to rename Chub to "Mister Chubbs"

by Jeremy on February 3, 2005 09:51 AM

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