FALLING IN LOVE ALL OVER AGAIN

I have to admit it - I just can't deny it.  I'm in love.

I've been in love for quite a long time, really.  I guess you could say it started out as a schoolgirl crush.  I was just a child when I first fell, and boy, did I fall hard.  And I've been deeply in love ever since.  Not that I was blind about it - I saw my love clearly, warts and all, and it only made me fall deeper.  For more than 30 years I have carried the torch, and this past year has been like meeting my love again for the very first time.  I'm head over heels all over again.

I'm in love with my country.

I lived in Philadelphia in 1976.  We lived in Society Hill - the old section of the city - and I spent my days exploring. I learned to make mob caps at Betsy Ross House, listened to tour guides at Independence Hall, and walked on the cobblestone streets once trod by our Founding Fathers.  I even befriended a carriage driver who not only taught me how to drive a horse and carriage, but also taught me the wonderful stories of the Founders and the War and the city of Philadelphia.  I would sing the Preamble to the Constitution (thanks Schoolhouse Rock!) as I skipped through the history that permeates those tree lined streets.

In that Bicentennial year, in that historic, beautiful city, I felt as though I was a part of it all. 

Much of my childhood was in the Brandywine area of Pennsylvania.  There was Revolutionary War history everywhere, and I was fascinated.  I read every signpost, relived every battle in my mind.  I loved going to Valley Forge, sitting in the tiny log huts the soldiers lived in.  I couldn't get enough stories about patriots like George Washington, Henry Knox, the Marquis de Lafayette, and Molly Pitcher; they filled my head with visions of heroes and perseverence in the face of overwhelming odds. 

Molly was a personal hero of mine, but she is not someone most people have heard of, although Glenn Beck mentioned her in his Founders Friday show this week.  She was a remarkable woman, one who voluntarily suffered the same depravations as the soldiers at the bitterly cold Valley Forge camp so that she could be with and help her husband.  She embranced the life, and was the personification of an American woman - strong, gutsy and capable.  Like many camp followers, she cooked, cleaned, mended clothes and nursed the wounded and sick, but she was definitely not your average camp follower.  She was a true patriot.

Her real name was Mary Ludwig Hays, but she earned her nickname by bringing much needed pitchers of water for the soldiers during battle, both to quench their thirst and to cool their guns.  If a man was wounded, she was even known to hoist him up and carry him off the battlefield.  Needless to say, the men had a great deal of respect and admiration for her.

Her husband, John Hays, was a gunner for the First Pennsylvania Artillery.  During the Battle of Monmouth, he was wounded as Molly looked on.  After first making certain he would survive, she then grabbed the rammer from his hands and took his place at the gun.  She held her position all day and fired over and over at the enemy.  At one point, an enemy cannon ball passed right between her legs, taking off a large chunk of her petticoats, but, thankfully, missing her.  She shrugged it off, merely observing it was lucky the ball wasn't a little higher "for in that case it might have carried away something else", and continued loading and firing her cannon. 

Her bravery and dedication to her country garnered her the adoration of the troops, and a personal meeting with General George Washington himself.  He commended her for her actions and conferred on her the honorary rank of Sargeant.  In later years, she was granted a pension for her service during the war, and was given a military funeral when she died.  She was a remarkable woman, and one of my first heroes.  It saddens me that her story isn't better known.  She was a shining example of what an American woman could do and be.

As I walked the streets of the old city as a child in my mob cap and peasant skirt, I would pretend it was the 1700's.  I was part of the adventure that was the Revolutionary War period.  My companions were all of the fascinating people who filled the city in the 1770's - our Founding Fathers and the amazing women who bravely offered whatever support they could in pursuit of liberty.

I have often been asked who my favorite Founding Father is.  Hands down, Benjamin Franklin.  Don't get me wrong, George Washington was a man among men, a man of principle and honor; God smiled on this country when He graced us with Washington.  He set the bar with his realization that the office is more than just one man, and a truly great man can step away from ultimate power - a lesson many of our entrenched politicians could stand to learn.

But Ben Franklin, well, he tickles me.  To me, he is the epitome of American-ness.  He was inarguably a brilliant man; his inventions and experiments affect our lives to this day.  He was a unique individual - really quite a character.  He was an entrepreneur at a time when most people took on their parent's vocation without question.  He was a free thinker and rather scandalous.  He loved women, music and 'air baths'.  He spoke five languages, was our first Postmaster, a printer, a consummate Statesman, and a writer who is still quoted today.  He gave us our first lending library and hospital.  He is arguably the one Founding Father who could easily assimilate to America in 2010 - although he would be quite vocal in his disagreement with the direction the country has been taking in recent decades - most likely on a blog!

Beyond the people who helped create our nation, I have always loved the uniqueness of this great country in and of itself.  There is no place on Earth quite like it.  We are kind, generous people, but we won't back down from a fight.  We are a shining beacon of freedom in a world of petty tyrants and sharia law.  We are vibrant, innovative and a force for good in the world.

There has been a concerted effort in this country and around the world to belittle the US, to make it seem mean and petty and out of touch.  I just don't buy the hype.  This country has changed in the 30 years since I first fell in love, but at it's heart, our Constitution, it is the same as it ever was.

As distressing as current events have been, I still try to see the silver lining.  It is hard, sometimes, because there is just so much going wrong and we are so far from where our Founders meant us to be.  Even with all of that, or, more to the point, because of it, there is a resurgence of patriotism in this country.  People are rediscovering our history, thwarting the best efforts of the progressive movement to change or ignore it.  More and more people are falling in love with this glorious country.  Once you know the history of it's creation, how can you not?

As a child, I fell in love.  As an adult, my love is stronger than ever.  But the best part of all is that I am not alone, and more people every day are joining me in my love and devotion for this great country.  Happy 234th birthday, U.S.A.!

Have a safe, happy Fourth, and God bless America!

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FALLING IN LOVE ALL OVER AGAIN

HAPPY MOTHER'S DAY!

Happy Mother's Day, fellow Mommy Patriots!

I hope that your Mother's Day is blessed with lots of love and those wonderful little goodies made with our favorite little hands - those are the best kinds of presents. 

For me, the path to motherhood was a difficult one.  At the age of 22, I was diagnosed with endometriosis, and was told that I would never be able to have children.  So I got a second opinion.  And a third.  And a fourth.  And even a fifth.  All the same prognosis. 

But I refused to take no for an answer. 

I endured operations, procedures, and experimental therapies.  My husband endured me going through massive amounts of fertility drugs, bless his loving, infinitely patient heart.  I left a path of destruction during the hormonal highs of those drugs  and cried a river of tears with each unsuccessful cycle and heartbreaking miscarriage.

But finally, finally, we gave it up.  We had taken all that we could take, and resigned ourselves to the fact that children were not in our future.  It was an agonizing reality.  And so I thanked God for the blessing of my beloved husband and let my dreams of motherhood go.  We had each other, and that was blessing enough.

It was a heartbreaking decision to stop trying, but after four years of a hormonal rollercoaster that had left me depleted both physically and mentally and my husband yearning for the calm, rational woman he had married, it was time to move on.

And so we stopped the injections and the rounds of doctors and rejoined the world. 

Six months later I was driving home from work, and I was upset because one of my co-workers had "accidentally" found herself pregnant.  I cried on the way home, because of my jealousy and frustration over women who so easily found themselves in a situation that I just could not attain.  The pain was still so raw that it was hard to breathe when I heard the news.  But I kept it together and congratulated her with a happy smile - until the ride home, when it hit me like a sledgehammer and the tears came.

Why couldn't that be me?  Why couldn't I be one of those girls who suddenly realized she was...oops... three months late?  But then I took a deep breath, counted my blessings, and dried my eyes.   What would feeling sorry for myself do?  We'd done all we could do; it was in God's hands now.

That night I came down with a stomach bug.  A few days later, still suffering, I had an epiphany.

I suddenly realized that I was...oops...three weeks late!

I could barely breathe. Could my stomach bug possibly be something more?  I still had some EPT's under the sink and so I took a test.  And another.  And then I cried.  With tears streaming down my face, I walked into the livingroom and handed my man one of the tests.  He looked at it, looked at me, and told me to go to the doctor and have him do a test.

The next day, I went to the doctor.  I came home in tears, and my long-suffering husband wrapped me in his arms and kissed me tenderly, bracing himself for more bad news.

"We're pregnant," I whispered, clinging on to him for dear life.

"What?" he sniffled, sure he had heard wrong.

"We're pregnant!!" I shouted, and then I covered his bewildered face in  kisses and waited for the news to sink in.

I was put on strict bedrest and almost lost her twice, but eight months later I delivered our daughter, healthy, beautiful and the most perfect miracle I could have ever imagined.  I cry now just writing about it.  How is it possible to feel such joy without your heart bursting out of your chest from it?

Three years later, our second daughter was born; that pregnancy, too, was a complete surprise and an utter joy, and our family was complete.

For me, the trials and tribulations of motherhood happened before the children were born.  Everything since has been a piece of cake by comparison (although we have barely dipped our toes in the teen years yet, so I might be overly optimistic in my thinking).  

Sometimes, in my constant immersion in the political scene, I get that same sense of futility that I got towards the end of the fertility treatments. 

When I do, I step back, take a deep breath, and remember that sometimes, when things seem the most bleak, hope waits just around the corner.

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HAPPY MOTHER'S DAY!

Revolutionary Women; A Brief History

"I'm just a mom."  "I'm just a woman."  "I'm just one person".  The list goes on, doesn't it?  After all, what can we, as American women, loving wives and under-appreciated moms, do that will make a difference?

Well, I stumbled across this article and thought... huh; revolutionary women isn't something new after all.  I hope you find this write-up as inspiring as I did.

American Athenas
Women in the Revolution
by Tina Ann Nguyen

"Actuated by the most glorious cause that mankind ever fought in, I am to defend this post to the very last extremity."1 The words of an American soldier during the American Revolution. However, this soldier was different from all the other soldiers. This soldier's name was Margaret Corbin, who survived the British attack on Fort Washington. Most importantly, she was a female participant in a war where the chief fighters were men.

Most history textbooks overlook women's roles in the American Revolution. Little is covered on women's contribution to the America's independence. The truth is, women were fiercely active in the independence cause and made gains for themselves.

Women's roles were limited in the colonial times. Marriage and motherhood were the primary goals for women. They lost property and legal rights upon marriage.2 Therefore, women were not expected to participate in the war.

Despite their low positions in society, women did participate. On the home front, they sewed uniforms and knitted stockings for the soldiers. With their husbands away fighting, some women had to take over as weavers, carpenters, blacksmiths, or shipbuilders. Others transformed their homes into hospitals for the wounded. One famous caretaker was Margaret Hill Morris. Because she demonstrated great expertise in medicine and herbal remedies, the sick depended on her. Every morning she made rounds to sick or wounded soldiers lodged in area homes.3

Like their male counterparts, women held protests against British goods. The Edenton Tea Party is one example. On one October day in 1774, fifty-one women signed Penelope Baker's declaration to ban English imports. They renounced drinking British tea and wearing clothes made of British cloth. However, unlike the Boston Tea Party, the signers did not attempt to hide their identities, and boldly signed their true names.4

Paul Revere was not the only one who announced the British's arrival. Sybil Ludington rode through Connecticut on a chilly April night and yelled that the British were burning Danbury and warned soldiers to prepare for a raid. Thanks to her daring actions, the British were halted at Ridgefield, Connecticut on April 27, 1777 and were forced to retreat to Long Island Sound5

Both men and women fought on the battlefield. Hundreds of women served as nurses, laundresses, cooks and companions to the male soldiers in the Continental Army.6 In addition, there were some that actually engaged in battle. Seeing "no reason to believe that any consideration foreign to the purest patriotism,"7 Deborah Sampson put on men's clothing and called herself Robert Shirtliffe in order to enlist in the Army. "Robert Shirtliffe" fought courageously; "his" company defeated marauding Indians north of Ticonderoga.8 There is also the valiancy of the water carrier Mary Hays, otherwise known as Molly Pitcher, who took up arms after her husband fell.9 As a six-foot tall woman, Nancy Hart was considered an Amazon Warrior. Living in the Georgia frontier, this "War Woman" aimed and, with deadly accuracy, shot British soldiers who invaded the area.10 Mentioned in the beginning of this essay was Margaret Corbin, another woman on the battlefield.

There were many American spies during the war, but the most remarkable one was Lydia Darragh of Philadelphia, a Quaker. Tricking the British soldiers conferencing in her home into believing that she was asleep, Friend Lydia learned that they were going to surprise Washington's army at Whitemarsh. Shocked, she proceeded the next day to Frankford pretending to fill her flour sack at a flourmill there. After clearing the British outposts, she ran into the American army and revealed the British's strategy. With this vital information, the Continental Army was able to thwart the British's plans.11

In the end, the Americans won the American Revolution and independence from the British. In the spirit of the Revolution, women also gained some independence from their confining roles because of their efforts in the war. Greater numbers of young girls were allowed to go to school. More women held jobs, campaigned against slavery, improved prisons and poorhouses conditions, and advocated women's rights.12 Abigail Adams, a fervent advocate of women's rights, wrote to her husband John Adams at the Continental Congress that "If particular care and attention is not paid to the Ladies, we are determined to foment a Rebellion, and will not hold ourselves bound by any Laws in which we have no voice or Representation."13

In conclusion, women contributed a great deal to the American Revolution. Their actions on the home front and on the battlefields relieved the men from the extra planning, mobilizing, and combating that they would have had to execute without the help of the women. This allowed the Continental Army to fully concentrate on defeating the British and acquiring sovereignty. America could not have been the powerful independent nation it is today without the service of the women.

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Revolutionary Women; A Brief History

Why I'm Here

For me, the red flags went up and the warning bells began long before the 2008 election.

There have been those basic principles (some learned the hard way) that served as a foundation for me; God, family and country.  I always knew that defending the faith would be a constant battle.  I knew that defending my family would become increasingly more difficult as the attacks against marriage and family escalated.

But my country?  America was strong.  America was safe.  I didn't have to worry about defending the America I knew and loved.  At least that is how I felt on September 10th, 2001.

9/11 was just the beginning, however.  9/11 began a domino effect... and I watched with growing concern.  Something was going terribly wrong.

Interest rates kept going down, money was pouring into our financial system from the Middle East, money seemed to be falling from the sky and Americans were gobbling it up at a record pace.  Housing appraisals were sky-rocketing, equity lines of credit flowed faster than the Colorado river and credit was the new American Idol.

I remember the day I was sitting in a meeting at work discussing new home sales from over the weekend.  A single mother with 4 kids, working at a McDonald's, was trying to purchase a $700,000 house.  None of the banks approved the purchase... and then she got 100% financing from HUD.

As soon as the meeting concluded, I called my husband; "The economy is going to crash hard ~ and soon."  Those were my exact words.  We spent the next few months paying off debt and stashing money.  By 2007, America was in a full recession... and Americans were being lied to about it.

By 2008, the government continued to lower rates and began discussing "bail outs".  In 7 years, I went from having confidence America was just fine to "we the people" are in serious trouble.

Every empire falls and they fall for one reason; financial collapse.  The very country that I loved was repeating history right before my eyes.

Bailouts, more talk of bailouts, more money being printed... the tab and financial burden growing minute by minute.

And then the election.

Now I find myself on the front line of one of the most important wars in America's history.  The basic principles of God-Family-Country were threatened by genocide.

Yes; genocide.  The more I pay attention, the more I realize this mess isn't an accident.  There were people in place on 9/11 who were more than ready to take advantage of the vulnerability that had swept the nation on that day.  Plans were put in motion to "help"; plans that had already been written up and stored... waiting for the perfect storm.

The progressives are in power.  Do you know what "progressives" really are?  They're socialists.

As a wife and mother, I cannot remain idle.  I cannot remain silent.  I will not throw up my hands in defeat.  I will defend this country with all the heart and passion that I defend my faith and my family.

They want a war?  They've got one.

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Why I'm Here

WELCOME TO THE SISTERHOOD

Let me start off by saying that a) I went to a few Tea Parties, homemade signs in hand, b) I watch Glenn Beck and c) I took my daughters to see Sarah Palin in 2008.

Don't be frightened.

I know that that makes me a dangerous right-wing nutjob, but truly, I'm relatively harmless. 

Until election day, that is.

For a long time, I was asleep, having a vague idea of what was going on in the world outside my door.  I was working or raising my kids, and, as long as things didn't get too outrageous, I rarely followed politics.  I  wasn't happy with certain policies of Bush and Clinton, but they also both did things I approved of.  The elections and re-elections of those two were tepid affairs; all of the candidates were shades of the others, barely distinguishable. 

But the 2008 election woke me up.  The radical nature and murky, undisclosed past of Barack Obama triggered something in me.  I love to research stuff of the web - knowledge is power.  I researched Joe Biden (who actually was my father's attorney for his divorce!), John McCain, Sarah Palin and Barack Obama.   There was so much unanswered about Obama, so many questionable associations.  The more I saw, the more concerned I became. 

I was reminded of an old adage - 'show me your friends and I'll tell you who you are'.

I did not like the picture I was getting of Obama.  Yes, he is a phenominal speaker.  He has the cadence of a preacher, but toned down to a subtle rhythm.  Very effective.  But I was listening to what he was saying, and hearing the double talk.  He was remarkably successful at fooling most of the people who were desperate for change, no matter how vague and amorphous it was. 

But I was wide awake and not buying it.

All I could see was all of the new entitlements and redistribution of wealth he was promising and the marxist/socialist associations and positions .  I, being a mother, was looking far down the road, trying to see what effect his agenda was going to have on my children's future.  I was not encouraged.  Even during a time of economic stability, implementing his full agenda in the timeframe he was talking about would have been untenable. 

Economic downturn or not, he has gone full-steam ahead on his lofty agenda.  He has his place in history to assure, apparently.  It doesn't matter that my future grandchildren are going to have to pay for it.  The people he has been putting into offices specifically created to undermine or circumvent the system of checks and balances are working on forwarding the progressive agenda - one I was disagreeing with the more I learned about it.

Eventually I was finding myself talking to the news anchors on tv.  I knew I needed a release, so I turned to blogging.  The catharsis of getting it out there, releasing that apprehension and concern out into the blogosphere helped.  But it wasn't enough.

I still felt isolated and cut off.  During the campaign, speaking up was not allowed, and people who did were branded as 'lunatic fringe'.  Or racist.  So speech was squelched, dissent was hidden.  After the election, the excuse of 'he's only been in office for (x) months - give him a chance!' kept things to a slow simmer.  People were beginning to grumble and assemble, though.  Numbers accumulated.  Parties were held. 

I realized how many people felt the way I did.  I spoke to moms at the Tea Parties and the Palin Rally, and suddenly felt...empowered.  I wasn't alone. 

But those parties are few and far between.  The feeling of strength in numbers faded, and the helpless solitude crept back in. 

But then Glenn Beck invited a bunch of moms onto his show, and I realized I wasn't alone.  A woman told of reassuring a friend who felt hopeless and ineffective that she wasn't alone - she was a member of the Sisterhood of the Mommy Patriots.  That struck a cord in me. 

And so I bought the domain name and asked a friend (and future contributor) to help me set up the site (Thanks so much, Lisa - you rock!). 

I wanted to make a forum for like-minded moms.  Posts on this site are going to be written from a mother's perspective; how policy, legislation and other actions will effect our families now and in the future. 

Our voices must be heard, for the sake of our children.

This insane agenda of tax, spend, borrow and bailout must be stopped.

We are many, we are strong, we are determined and we can be influential.  We drive the economy, we vote, we educate our children, we influence our men.  We are strong, intelligent, and patriotic, and we don't back down from a fight - we are American women. 

Divisiveness is tearing this country apart.  It is time to stand together.  We are fighting for the future of our children and grandchildren. 

I look forward to this new adventure and hope that a community sprouts from this; women relying on other women, giving each other strength and a sense of shared purpose.- a true sisterhood. 

So welcome to the Sisterhood of the Mommy Patriots.  I hope you join us and raise your voice for freedom and the future.  I and my fellow contributors look forward to keeping you informed and hearing your voice in return.

Mother love is the fuel that enables a normal human being to do the impossible. ~Marion C. Garretty, quoted in A Little Spoonful of Chicken Soup for the Mother's Soul

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WELCOME TO THE SISTERHOOD