So what?? It's snowing...

Ok...I live in Western Pennsylvania. I need to tell you that because to fully appreciate this post, you have to know that I don't live in North Carolina or Texas or somewhere warm where snow is a big deal. No. I live in a place that averages 58.95785 feet of snow per year.*

Today it is snowing. Well, not really. Not yet anyway. What I should say is that the weatherman predicts at some point throughout the day and into the night it could be snowing. We could get like 2 or 3 inches of snow. Right now, though, it's just raining.

Soooooooo, then why is it that the salt trucks are already out and salting (it's 39 degrees)? And, why is it that it took me 20 minutes to get home from work (normally a 7 minute trip)? And, why is it that the grocery store is out of milk and toilet paper? It seems we're in a bit of a panic mode, no.

And, while I am at it, why is it always that milk and toilet paper are the things that sell out. I mean if I were going to be stuck in my house for several days with no chance of getting out I probably wouldn't buy milk and toilet paper. Don't get me wrong, I totally appreciate the value of toilet paper, but if I were going to be stuck in my house for days on end, I would buy valium and cookie dough or something. And, let's be clear. When I say toilet paper, there are plenty of single rolls left at the store, it's just the huge mulit-packs that are sold out. Surely there must be some other cold-weather related use that I am missing. Otherwise, why would people flock to the 24 roll pack?

It seems like if you live where I live, 2-3 inches would be no big deal.

** Not an official number, just something I made up :)

The REALLY most exciting election of our time.

It was held yesterday and it was for third grade president of [-----] elementary school. Ryan decided not to run, which, as you might imagine, given my love of all things politics, was a little disappointing. I wanted to run for third grade president vacariously through him.

Back on November 7th, they had primaries. Each classroom picked a top candidate. Then they had two weeks to pick their vice presidential candidates and to campaign.

Apparently in 3rd grade, there is no law against buying votes as DAILY Ryan would come home with laffy taffy, cookies, candy, etc etc.

There was one candidate that I would have to say was like the DNC, what with their full-sized, personalized "Vote For Me" candy bars and their 30 minutes spot on prime-time TV that could delay the World Series...er....anyways, the other candidates didin't quite seem to have that type of budget.

I did love how seriously Ryan was taking his vote. He told me he wasn't even going to vote for a boy just because he, too, was a boy. And, he told me he wasn't going to vote for someone who was his friend just because he was his friend. He told me he was going to listen to each of the final speeches and decide who he wanted to vote for from there. Candy couldn't buy his vote, he said. Then, he paused. "I do really like the candy, though." :)

A young gentleman from Ryan's class was the winner. He shall henceforth be known as Mr. President. In the end, I was glad Ryan didn't run. I'm pretty sure I would've cracked under all of that candy pressure! Because as we all know, there can only be one president...everyone else goes home sad AND overloaded with sugar.

Moyer the Destroyer

My Hayleigh. She sure is cute. And sweet. And cuddly. But don't let all of that fool you. No. Don't let the cute dancing and book-reading and babbling and waving and snuggling and giggling and playing fool you. It's simply a clever disguise. For underneathe all of that cuteness lies MOYER THE DESTROYER!

Moyer the Destroyer rips pages out of school books and colors on walls...all at the same time. Moyer the Destroyer can cleverly hide pieces of food in her mouth or in her hands and then, when you go to pick her up out of her chair, she can wipe them on your work clothes, your furniture, or your cat. Moyer loves the blinking blue light on my computer and has already twice, during this post alone, touched it to turn the computer off. Moyer can single-handedly, in a way that makes an 8-year-old jealous, throw toys and things all over a clean playroom floor in 2.4 seconds. Those socks I just put on her feet? In the toilet. The bow I just put in her hair? Stuffed between the heater vents.

Moyer is also very smart. She's crafty enough to know when the kids are getting ready to go to the busstop and waits patiently by the door. Once Ryan or Trisha or Jonathan leaves to go, out she runs right in her barefeet (it is 20 degrees and snowing here). How does she move faster than me? Clearly. Cleary, the only explanation is superhuman powers.

Oh, and don't try to tell Moyer no or pick her up and take her inside or remove her hands from the toilet water and clean them off. Whatever you do, don't do that. If you try, you will face the wrath of Moyer. And, Moyer is getting old enough where she expresses wrath. Oh, yes...she expresses wrath.

I've saved the best trick for last, though. Because despite all of this chaos, with the breaking of a smile or a little dance or a little word or with a little snuggle, Moyer can melt her mommy's heart in the blink of an eye.

Stick a Banana in Your Ear

Our home has been taken over by a somewhat crabby, somewhat creepy unicorn. His name is Charlie. If you are not familiar with Charlie the Unicorn, you need to view this first:



I picked the short one. Since I do not smoke pot and since I am not, you know, 11, I have a hard time really getting into Charlie. I guess it is somewhat mildly amusing. I think you can see how annoying it would be to have four children (and ne adult male) going around saying "Charlie" and "Shun the nonbeliever...shun" in that voice all day. It is better than fighting, though. I'll take that over the sound of siblings fighting anyday. However, I feel I must state for the record that I better not get a Charlie T-shirt for Christmas. I mean it. I don't want it. No.

The Cheer Banquet

I know I haven't posted in awhile...Hayleigh just cut her fourth tooth in the past week. I think that about says it all!

Last weekend I had the pleasure of attending Trisha's cheer banquet. It was a nice time with awards, a slide show, and dancing. Everyone got all dressed up. Throughout the evening I waxed nostalgic. There were the 6 and 7 year olds dressed in the black patent leathers and big, bouncy dresses with a big bow on the back. They were dancing the night away and having a lot of fun.

And, then, there were the 12 year olds, some of whom, the ones whose parents allowed it, were wearing dresses with necklines down to there and shoes with heels that would break the back of any almost 40 year old. They sort of congregated on the dance floor, way too cool to dance.

And, then, there was my Trisha...somewhere in between. Although getting way too close to that latter group for my comfort. I couldn't help but wonder how it is that we were moving so quickly from patent leather and bows and to trampy dresses and high heels.

Half-way through the dancing, there was a mother-daughter dance, so Trisha and I hit the floor. She wanted to dance like she sees on Dancing With the Stars. But, I wouldn't have that. I grabbed her close and did the bear hug dance.

And, while we did I thought of the other times I have bear hug danced with her.

There were those times in the nursery...when she wouldn't go back to sleep after her bottle. I would rock and dance with her to get her to go to sleep. Or when she was crabby and needed soothing, I would pick her up and dance with her. As she got older, there were dances with her stepping on my shoes and big hugs that involved dips and turns. But, lately, those days have given way to my driving her to this house or another, or to homework help or friendship advice, or mother/daughter pedicures. I do like pedicures. The girl isn't so much into big hugs, dancing, or snuggling anymore. So, I took full advantage of the time I had.

Of course, after awhile One Moment in Time gave way to "Apple Bottom jeans with the fur" and with her cute little grin, a wave, and a "thanks mom" she was off. Back to jumping and down with her friends as any 11 year old should do.

As I watched her having a good time, all I could think was...no, Trisha, thank you.

Post Election Diarrhea of the Keyboard

Just my rambling thoughts about the election...then I'll go back to the witty and thoughtful (if I do say so myself!) mommy posts that are way more fun!

1. Of course, I am disappointed by McCain's loss. I thought that he was the better of the two men and the more qualified. I liked his ideas better. I am somewhat gratified that my county went "red" for the first time in many, many years. Of course, we are "racist and redneck" and "cling bitterly to our guns and religion". Most of PA in fact was red. Only Philadelphia was blue. I am pretty sick of Philadelphia deciding the course of PA politics.

I was moved to tears by both McCain's concession and Obama's acceptance speech. I hope that Obama is able to lead with the same spirit of optimism and bipartisanship with which he spoke. His 1st appointment of Rahm Emmanuel tells me probably not. However, for the sake of this county, I hope and pray that Obama is as successful as any president we have seen. For 8 years, Democrats have tried everything to ruin GWB. Let's not be like that. Let us as Republicans be the first to make it stop.

2. I was also moved by the reaction of people of color. Jesse Jackson, although I couldn't disagree with him more, him breaking down was actually a moving sight. On Fox News, Juan (whose last name I can't remember) spoke of how excited he was that his children have a new role model to look at; something different from a rapper or a sports star. He could now look his kids in the eye and say without any reservation "Yes, son...you can be anything you want." I can imagine how powerful that must be because I still can not look my daughters in the eye and say the same thing. Which brings me to point #3.

3. I am saddened at what happened to the women in this race. More than anything, I can say this race showed how divided we are as women, and for that reason alone I don't see progress happening soon. When Sarah Palin was announced as VP, I was so sickened by what I heard. People who had, all of their lives, preached that women should be at home and homeschooling their children, people who have made me feel like a failure for wanting to work and send my children to public school, people who would not let Sarah Palin preach at their church if there were men in the audience, were all of the sudden applauding her choice as someone who could rule the free world. Conversely, people who have spent their whole lives preaching that women can do and be whatever they want all of the sudden felt very strongly that this woman should be home with her children. People who are for gay marriage and adoption couldn't fathom how a man could stay at home, no...those Palin kids need a mom. Talk about giving mixed messages to our daughters!! When reports came out that Sarah was getting angry and throwing temper tantrums or when Hillary broke down during an interview in New Hampshire, there was that underlying "Oh...there goes that woman being emotional again thing". As women, we are emotional. I am sick of that being a weakness. On the contrary, it is our strength.

I wish Obama well. I will pray for him as that is what God commands me to do. And, I will continue to wait for a day when I too, can look my children, my daughters, in the eye and tell them without reservation that they, too, can do anything.

No Matter What Happens Tomorrow...

I am not sure who first wrote it. I have never seen it with a proper acknowledgement. It's still worth passing on though.


Top 10 Predictions No Matter Who Wins the Election


1. The Bible will still have all the answers.
2. Prayer will still work.
3. The Holy Spirit will still move.
4. God will still inhabit the praises of His people.
5. There will still be God-anointed preaching.
6. There will still be singing of praise to God.
7. God will still pour out blessings upon His people.
8. There will still be room at the Cross.
9. Jesus will still love you.
10. Jesus will still save the lost when they come to Him.

Happy Halloween and Happy Blog-o-versary!

Three years ago, my very first post was a Halloween picture of my little cuties. There was only 4 of them...3 in second grade, and one in Kindergarten. It was when I still had control over their costumes and we did a Star Wars theme. This year, the theme was "pick things out of yours or someone else's closet and get money from dad." I think we still made out since we didn't have to buy 5 costumes. Anyways. without further adieu, the annual Halloween picture...



And, here is just a mosaic of some cute fall pictures.

Nicole the Special Needs Mom

Yesterday I was driving around in my car and as I turned a corner, Jaden's wheelchair clinked a little bit and it dawned on me "I have a special needs child".

Oh, he's 11. I've had plenty of time for it to sink in and all. But, sometimes it's like I forget. I mean I know that every day, he gets out of bed and I get him breakfast, because unlike the other 11 year olds in my house, he can't reach the cereal and milk. And, I know that every day he gets himself a diaper as part of his getting dressed and everyday I put him in his braces so that he can spend some time walking. And, I know that every school day we wait for a different bus that the other kids get on because the other one deosn't have a wheelchair lift. And, I know that everytime we go somewhere I have to be concerened about the accessibility of that place and I know that everywhere we go people stare or avert their gaze in a "whatever you do don't look" sort of way. And, I know that we seem to spend a lot of time in the hospital and at Drs. appointments. But, sometimes I forget that not everyone is doing the same things we do. And, sometimes, like when the wheelchair clinks in the back of my van, I am reminded that we are different. That not all families have to live through hospitalizations and fighting insurance companies and waiting for medical equipment companies just to return your calls. And, every now and again, sometimes, that realization sucks.

It's funny to me that sometimes I forget I am a special needs mom, that sometimes, most of the time, I just think of myself as a mom who gets out of bed every day and tries to do what is best for her family. I don't know if that is progress or denial. Some special needs mom wear it like a badge of honor...and really they should. It's not always easy. In fact, it really never is. I guess I just enjoy the times when I forget. If only I had been taking that turn a little slower... :)

Homework x 3 or 4, someday 5.

Remember the good old days? When you would read a book and then have a to write a book report? Or maybe you'd learn some math and then have to go home and do some math problems? Or maybe you'd read about some wonderful Indian tribe in Social Studies and then take a multiple choice quiz on that tribe. Those days are gone, folks. Those days are gone.

Trisha is also working on a "hogan" for social studies. This has to be made out of materials found in nature...just like the native americans did back in the day. Listen, people, I can help a child with writing, some math, but creating a hogan out of materials found in nature...forget it. What makes this extra fun is how every suggestion I make gets shot down:

Me: "Trisha, what if I went to get some plaster and we got the basic shape with plaster and then glued things from nature to it."
Trisha: (In a screeching, over the top, how could you be so stupid tone of voice) "The teacher said we couldn't do that."

Well, did the teacher maybe tell you how I am supposed to pull a hogan out of my a**. Although...that does give me an idea.

Then, Jonathan is working on a book project. He gets to make a movie poster to "sell" the movie rendition of the book he just read. His original rough draft was basically a reworking of the cover, which I have to say, I thought was brillant. I mean afterall, if a publishing house thought it was good enough to sell, well it should be good enough for the teacher...am I right? However, he now sits upstairs looking at a blank page and asking me for ideas. I have not read the book, so I have no ideas. I am now going to read the book so I can have some ideas (unless anyone has read Frindle and can help me out)

Jaden surprisingly seems to have no homework. Ever. I am not sure what this means. When I ask him, he always says he did it at school. There was one project he had where he said he had to watch TV for 90 minutes each day. Something about tracking commercials. You don't think he's pulling a fast one on me, do you?

Ah, yes and then there is Ryan. So far, he's pretty independent. Except that once per week he has to bring in a current event story. He always likes to pick odd news, and believeyoume, there is plenty of odd news out there, which brings up tons of odd questions like: "Mom, what's chocolate body spread? It's been recalled" or "Mom, why would a naked man try to go down someone's chimney?" or "Mom, what is sex and why did people get arrested for it on the beach?" Good times. Good times.

Just think, in a few years, Hayleigh will be in the mix. I can hardly wait to see what ridiculous, er I mean, educational things they come up with by then.

5th Grade Girl-y-dom

Here are two books I have been reading lately as part of my quest to "Get Trisha Through Her Teen Years Without Pregnancy, STD, Date Rape, or Drunken Cell Phone Usage". I can sum up both of these books in three words: Terr. I. Fying. It makes it seem almost hopeless to try and overcome the influences seen and heard on a daily basis; to try an overcome the desire for male attention and the desire to be "popular" and to have the best clothes and the best everything so that by some miracle you can be a queen bee or at the very least NOT the person that everyone picks on.

By wordly standards, Trisha is probably off to a good start. Since starting the 5th grade, she's been invited to cool parties and been told she has cool clothes and even achieved that prize of prizes: being listed as one of the hot girls in her class. I can't really relate to that at all. I can assure you that I WAS NOT on anyone's list of hottest girls in 5th grade. Unless someone was listing who was sweating the most during gym class. Then I might have made a hottest girl list. And, it's not so much that she made the list, heck she can't help that she's cute...it's that she was so proud of herself for making this list.

The books do have some good suggestions that I am going to take heed of. Like going out to breakfast once a month to talk about what's going on in her life. The goal is to find out what she values and why and to tell her what I value and why. I also need, in the next year or so, to talk frankly about the dangers that lurk out there. And, to tell her that there are plenty of things one can do to get attention, but how will that make her feel?

Wouldn't it be nice if I could have total control of everything all of the time? But, then, what would I do with all of that free time I currently use worrying about things...

My Poor Neighbor

My neighbor recently had two of his 6 Obama signs stolen. No. I didn't do it. Seriously. I didn't. However, the person who did was probably thinking the following:

I mean my neighbor was obviously wealthy in the yard sign department. He had 6 of them and perhaps the person who took them was simply looking to redistribute the wealth. Say, take two of the signs that my neighbor has and give them to someone less fortunate, someone "behind them" in this journey of life. In fact, I am surprised my neighbor is bothered by this. The fact that they are so upset leads me to think that perhaps they need to rethink their vote...since this is exactly the type of wisdom Obama espouses.

In lieu of more signs, my neighbor handcrafted a poster that says "You can steal my signs, but you can't steal my vote!" No, neighbor we'll leave election stealing up to the fine folks at ACORN.

Oh, that crazy Joe!

We have a family member I don't mention too much. The fact is, I am usually quite embarassed by his antics. His name is Joe. Oh, you can't ever see Joe, he just shows up to play games and cause mischief all around our house.

He first appeared on our vacation. Ryan was bored and was playing a dice game. I wasn't sure who he was playing with (I couldn't see anyone), but when I looked at the score sheet...there he was. Ryan had 5,000 some points and Joe had like 6,000 some. When we went to play miniature golf, Grandpa played against Joe and found him to be a challenging competitor. We later found out that Joe isn't a young man like Ryan, he's more like Aunt Kristin's age (late, late, late 20s). In fact, Ryan thought perhaps Joe might be a nice match for Aunt Kristin.

Joe has hung around over the past few months. Anytime there's a spill or something is broken or missing, you can bet Joe gets the blame. That ground in fruit and grain bar on my carpet...Joe. My cell phone in the toilet...Joe. Sharpie on the wall...Joe. That Joe is just a rascally guy. Except for the past few days. Things have been pretty quiet around here. The past few days we haven't seen him much. We thought maybe he was travelling, seeing some sights. Maybe even getting someone to talk to a certain presidential candidate and ask him about some made up plumbing business he has. Who knows? Anything is possible with our crazy Joe.

If it was our Joe, at least I am glad to know he is a Republican. Although that no longer makes him a very good match for Aunt Kristin. Darn!

Cooking isn't my bag.

I'm not a very good cook. At all.

It's not that I don't try. Well, to be honest, I really don't try. I have a few recipes I like to use...like macaroni and cheese and hotdogs or quesadillas. I'm a big fan of the make-your-own nights. Like make-your-own cereal or make-your-own leftovers. Those are fun nights. I can also do some crockpot cooking. Like throw in some frozen chicken breasts and a bottle of barbeque sauce and let it sit all day. That I can do. Gourmet for me is grilling on the George Foreman. And by "grilling", I mean cooking the chicken in the microwave for a few minutes until it is almost done and then throwing it on the grill just so it gets those fancy grill lines on it. Oh, I've tried joining recipe clubs and mailing lists and such. If it has more than 5 ingredients or 5 steps, I just get lost somewhere between "debone chicken breast" and "add a pinch of fresh garlic". I need recipes that say things like open a can of chicken, add soup, enjoy. If anyone has any like this and would like to share, please do!

Of course, this is all part of my plan of good parenting. I mean if I wanted to cook really good meals, I would. But then, my daughters-in-law would have to live up to my perfection. All this non-cooking really is just my way of looking out for the future welfare of my boys' marriages!

The 80s are alive and well at my house...

I don't think there is much about the 80s I'd like to bring back. A few things, maybe. Like music and big, big hair. I mean the kind of big hair that can only be achieved by hairspraying a piece of hair, wrapping it around a tight curling iron and then taking a comb and teasing it big. That kind of big hair I would take back. Jeans with a peg-leg and long sweaters that cover the butt with leggings...not so much now that I have had children. And, the TV shows? Well, perhaps with the exception of Growing Pains (Hellooooo, Kirk Cameron), there is not too much I am interested in seeing again. Which is why it pains me greatly to say that my kids have taken to watching this show:



Yeah...remember Alf? I didn't like it the first time! Jaden chuckles through the whole thing. He asked me where this show had been all of his life. Which surprises me, given my dad can probably name every time and station the show is on. Watching Jaden chuckle makes me chuckle, I have to admit, but I'm not sure how much more Alf I can take. I guess I should consider myself lucky...it could be Punky Brewster!

When Did I Become THAT Kind of Mom?

Saturday at cheerleading, we found out that one of the girls decided to quit. The reason was that the coach was being harsh on the girl and the girl's mom didn't like it. I guess the mom of the girl said "They're only 11, coach!". That comment sort of struck me. In a day when we see so clearly what a lack of taking responsibility for our actions can do to a person, a family, a nation, it seems like at 11, we can expect a certain level of behavior. Can't we.

But, really, I can't judge that mom too harshly. Because, it has come to my attention that I've fallen into the same trap.

It happened so quickly and yet so subtly. I used to be so big on the kids cleaning up their own messes and taking care of their own things. I used to be big on not necessarily getting everything you wanted, but wanting everything you got. "You get what you get and you like it!" was the motto around here.

And, then, they started school. And, people weren't always nice. Teachers yelled. Kids were mean. Schedules were busy. And, somewhere I thought that if I could ease their burden a bit, it would be better for them. Hey, let me pack your backpack...you relax it's going to be a hard day. Hey, I'll clean up your breakfast dishes, you go ahead and relax. I'll set the table, make dinner, clean up the family room, etc, etc, etc, you go out and play...you've had a hard day. Hey, I'll call your teacher and make sure they go easy on you, they probably don't know how hard you have it. You can't be expected to listen...you're only 11.

I thought I was doing the right thing by keeping things easy on them at home. I thought I was giving them that "soft place to land", which I totally believe is so important, but I have to find a way to do that that doesn't kill the lesson of personal responsibility. The future of our country depends on us teaching our children this important lesson. Afterall, 11 is plenty old enough to learn how to behave.

Talking Points Tuesday

So, when you hear a democrat say "I warned several years ago that Fannie and Freddie were going to be a problem", here's proof that, once again, they are full of it!!

Mosaic Monday

Jonathan's Soccer Adventures...

Will Someone Please Stop the Merry-Go-Round

I keep thinking of that Duran Duran song The Reflex. Especially the one little line that says "I'm on a ride and I want to get off, but it won't slow down wah wah (or something like that)". That's my life. Especially yesterday.

I was coming home from a particularly frustrating day at work thinking of all that I had to do that evening. Even thinking of it was stressful. Just trying to figure out what to do for dinner...how to get everything done...and crap! Where's Ryan's baseball shirt??? As I am thinking through where Ryan's baseball shirt probably is, I realize that it is in the washing machine...where a load of clothes has been growing mildew for three days. Double crap!!

I arrive home in time for Jaden's bus. He promptly tells me that he needs to take an apple and a banana to school tomorrow. This will most likely mean that when Trisha and Jonathan get off the bus, they will tell me the same thing. Triple Crap! Why is it on the busiest days the kids need crap for school. As if?!?!

I get Hayleigh from the sitters, take Jaden to therapy, run through Sonic for dinner, spray some Febreeze on Ryan's mildew infested shirt and throw it in the dryer, pick up Jaden from therapy, get Ryan dressed for baseball (a friend drove him to his game), make sure Jonathan is ready for soccer so he can leave right when Rob gets home, take Trisha to cheerleading, go to watch 1 1/2 innings of baseball (during which Ryan did very well, apparently mildew is helpful!), go back and pick Trisha up from cheerleading, go back to the baseball game to pick up Ryan,change oopy diaper in the backseat of van, and stop at the grocery store on my way home.

In the midst of it all, just when I am thinking that I can't possibly go on like this anymore. Just when I think that I am quite likely to have a nervous breakdown or at least a good, long cry, I hear something in the back seat of my car. Hayleigh is making little noises. I turn around and I see that she is waving and saying "Hi" everytime we pass a person on the road. I say to her "Are you saying Hi" and she turns bac toward me and gives me the biggest, cutest, 6-toothed grin you ever did see. And, in an instant I remember why I have as many kids as I do. Because there is absolutely, positvely, no greater privilage on this earth than being able to raise a precious little soul.

Even if those precious little souls need to be driven all over God's green earth.

Talking Points ala Jerry Maguire

Jerry Maguire is one of my favorite movies. I have seen it probably 1,000 times and I hope to see it at least 1,000 times more. Who doesn't love lines like "Show me the money!" and "You had me at hello". One of the less quotes lines, but also a favorite of mine is when Rod and Marcie are talking with Jerry and giving him a hard time. Dorothy comes in and says"...do you know he's broke? He's broke! Broke. Broke. Broke." I've been thinking of that line lately when it comes to politics. Because let's face it folks...as a country we are broke! Broke. Broke. Broke.

So when you hear either presidential candidate mention all of their plans. I just have to ask myself "How is that going to work?" We can't fix healthcare. We can't invest in infrastructure. We're broke! I don't want to pay more taxes, but I can assure you that we can't double the child tax credit or give a $1000 credit to middle class families off the top...we're broke!

When I hear Iran's leader talk with glee about the American empire beginning to fall. Or I hear about China wanting to create a one-world currency that does not include the US, I know our being broke is a real problem. When North Korea and Iran do what they want because they know our threats our empty (Oh yeah...how are you going to get us with your $9 trillion debt?!?!), I know that this is not simply a crisis of the economy, it is a crisis of national security!

This is not all Bush's fault either. There is plenty of blame to go around. Plus, I am not interested in who's at fault, I am interested in who can lead us and fix this. I do not feel like being a commonwealth of China!

So, strip away all of the plans of the candidates...they are not going to happen...or at least I hope not, we can't afford to go depper into debt. All you are left with is two men. I am voting for John McCain for many reasons, but in this context, I beleive his energy policy makes more sense and I think energy independence is a cornerstone to rebuilidng our economy. Instead of sending money to countries who hate us, instead we can circulate that money back through our own economy. We can't wait 10 years for that. We need to move now.

So, strip away the spending plans and tell me who you want to vote for and why. The only rule is it can't be because Bush sucks or Karl Rove is evil or Obama associates with terrorists. It has to be something positive about your candidate. Something that will get us out of being Broke. Broke. Broke.