While The Media has been spoon feeding us every detail about Brittney Spears' latest hair style and wondering where Anna Nicole's body would be buried (and even more news-worthy, who the father of her 4 month old daughter was), several U.S. Marines were saving the life of an Iraqi baby named Mariam.
This probably comes as a surprise to you, since all you've heard from Democrats and their lackeys in the dinosaur media is that Iraq is an unmitigated disaster. The Iraqis, the insurgents, and the Democrats (and an embarrassingly large number of "moderate" Republicans) all want us out of there before we make things any worse. The mainstream media are all too willing to play along, finding the air time and/or newspaper real estate to report U.S. troops body counts or the latest Hollywood scandals, then making excuses that they can only cover so many stories whenever our troops make any progress in Iraq.
Of course, they do have time to remind us that these troops are only in Iraq because they were too stupid or too poor to have any other options. The same media elite who coined the term "baby killers" during the Vietnam war era frequently remind us that they are the ones who support the troops. Of course, what they mean is they support the idea of rescuing these hapless rejects who stumbled into the armed forces by surrendering as quickly as possible so they can come back home and get back to their mediocre lives.
Chris Walsh was one such "reject." Walsh had been an EMT in St. Louis, and he joined the Navy reserves after 9/11. He was deployed to Iraq, where he served as a Medic alongside the Marines. You can read his story here, and the details that follow are taken from that article.
While out on patrol, Walsh would often set up impromptu clinics on the streets of Fallujah while his buddies set up cover positions. At great risk to himself, he would provide medical care to suffering Iraqis in the middle of an insurgent hotbed.
On one such patrol, a roadside bomb exploded just in front of the Humvee he was riding in. He and the Marines he was with set out after the triggerman, but stopped when the reached one particular doorway. A woman held an infant out to Walsh, repeating, "Baby. Baby sick." Walsh halted the pursuit and took out a digital camera. Her name was Mariam, and she had a rare condition in which her bladder had developed on the outside of her body. Walsh showed the pictures to a doctor back at base camp, Captain Sean Donovan. Donovan knew that the baby would die if she wasn't operated on soon, but such a procedure could not be done in Iraq. Continue reading this post »
As we were making dinner last night, Pete sat on the kitchen floor reading one of his many alphabet books. We weren't paying him much attention, until we heard him mutter, "Cat starts with 'C.'" We both turned to him and started heaping on the praise. Don't be too impressed, however, because he also went on to tell us that "star" starts with "nine."
According to an AP article, a nonprofit group called Exhale is now offering e-cards for women who have "experienced" an abortion. The company, which also has a "non-judgmental after abortion counseling talkline," is offering the e-cards that "provide friends and family with an opportunity to express support and respect for loved ones after an abortion." The cards express such sentiments as "As you grieve, remember that you are loved." or that "you did the right thing," and even that "God will never leave you or forsake you."
In other news, a nonprofit company called Hemorrhage is also offering their own new of e-cards, focusing on people who have recently experienced being convicted of murder. The messages include sensitive messages such as, "You did the right thing. Your victim is probably better off dead anyway." or that "You may be facing 25 years behind bars, but you should see the other guy!" and even that "The thief on the cross got a second chance. Maybe you will, too."
Psalm 127:3-5
3Behold, children are a heritage from the Lord,
the fruit of the womb a reward.
4Like arrows in the hand of a warrior
are the children of one's youth.
5Blessed is the man
who fills his quiver with them!
He shall not be put to shame
when he speaks with his enemies in the gate.
One of these days I'm going to get around to writing my "Why I Think the Theory that Mankind is Causing Global Warming is a Bunch of Liberal-Socialist Hooey" post. Until then, this post over at Challies.com makes some of the points that stick out in my mind on the topic.
If you've given up on LOST, you might want to try SAVED.
"Oh, say does *our* star-spangled banner yet wave?" I'm not sure which is worse, her singing or that she, as a U.S. senator and former first lady, doesn't know the words to *our* national anthem. I'll bet she knows every single word to "Hail to the Chief" by heart.
I'm sure you're dying to know what I ended up doing about Pete's dead fish. Long story short, I waffled. I knew I had a small window of opportunity for swapping out the dead Bush for a more vibrant, living Bush, so I went over to Fish World and picked up a Bush look-alike AND a bottle of dechlorination drops. I made the switch and was back out the door before Amanda and the kids got home.
However, throughout the afternoon several comments and e-mails came in that helped me to make my mind up. I didn't have a chance to watch the turtle scene from My Blue Heaven, so I'm not sure which direction that would have pointed me in, but the rest of the advice had a very strong "Tell the truth" theme throughout.
The point that made my mind up came from my dad. After wondering (sarcastically, I hope) out loud whether they would qualify for family emergency pricing on an emergency flight from Dallas to Omaha for Bush I's funeral, his suggestion was to tell Pete the truth and use it as a lesson on the importance of doing things the right way the first time. Since that is a lesson I truly hope my son learns from me, I felt it necessary to swallow my pride and apprehension and just give Pete the news.
He really didn't react too negatively. He asked me where Bush had gone, and Amanda blurted out "DADDY FLUSHED HIM DOWN THE TOILET!" Thanks, sweetie. I recovered by reminding Pete of the scene in Finding Nemo when Nemo goes down the drain and ends up out in the ocean. I clarified a bit, noting that Bush was on kind of a round-a-bout route to the ocean, but that he would probably make it there eventually. Pete then told me that he was "a little sad." When I asked him why, he told me that he was sad because he didn't get to tell Bush good-bye before he had to go away. My poor daddy-heart about fell out of my chest.
After our bedtime prayers, Pete pointed out that we forgot to pray about his fish. Wondering where he was going with this, I asked him what we should pray about. He said we needed to thank Jesus for the new fish, and ask Jesus to "make it so the new Bush won't died." So far, so good.
This post will probably be used against me during the nomination period for the "Most Miserably Bad Parent in All of Lincoln Award" (MMBPALA), but I'm willing to risk it.
Tuesday night we bundled up the family and headed for Wal-Mart. Pete has wanted a betta fish for several weeks, and we decided that having a pet (a pseudo-pet, anyway) would be a good experience for him. We got the vase, the plant, the glass rocks, and the fish. For reasons that continue to remain unknown to me, Pete named his fish "Bush." I'd like to think that it is because he is a conservative at heart, but he probably couldn't tell you who George Bush was even if you dangled the Thomas the Tank Engine complete DVD set in front of him. During Bush's first night in our home Pete made sure he was well fed, and he wrapped his blankie around the vase so that Bush would stay warm. Classic.
To back up a bit, the directions that came with the vase made it very clear that we were to use bottled water, but that tap water left out overnight would work in a pinch. Unfortunately, we were fresh out of bottled water and, as Pete was jumping up and down in a circle waiting for the moment Bush would enter his new aqueous home, the overnight option was not feasible. As any dad in my situation would do, I declared that we would risk it. Bush seemed like a hearty little fellow, and if any fish could survive mild chlorine poisoning it was him.
Turns out I was wrong. As Amanda and the kids rushed out the door for a meeting at church this morning, Pete told Bush "See ya later," and then blew him a kiss. I looked a little closer at the vase to see how he was doing, only to find him drifting casually above the rocks at the bottom of the vase. Upside down. I swirled the water around for a moment to make sure that he wasn't just sleeping. The autopsy results are still pending, but in my heart I know that I KILLED BUSH.
So now I have a bit of a moral dilemma. On the one hand, I could explain to Pete exactly what happened. He's only 3 1/2, but he is probably ready to start learning about death on some level. On the other hand, I don't really like the idea of Pete having to wonder if *he* will die in the near future because daddy didn't take very good care of him. In that case, I could run out still this morning and get another teal/blue betta fish and hope that he never notices the differences between Bush 1 and Bush 2. I suppose that would technically be lying, but it would be justifiable for the greater good, in this case the mental health and innocence of my son.
What should I do? Seriously, I could use the help. If you have any brilliant ideas, please leave them in the comments section. I'll let you know when I decide what I'm going to do.
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