Just like the ID bracelet I used to have . . .

I'd make this a big long post tonight, I'd also go argue with adam at operation yellow elephant tonight but frankly I am just too tired.

I did read something on Daily Kos about an advisory for hurricane Rita that brought back a childhood memory.

"Evacuating parents were told to take photos of their children and to give them identification in case they get separated."

When I was growing up every year our school would send home an order form for ID bracelets and dog tags for children. Of course there is always MedicAlert but what about children who don't have anything allergies, asthma or such? So I looked and there still is a company that makes child ID bracelets

I doubt he will be a politician, I am proud none the less

Tuesday, September 20, 2005 something important happened. We had local elections.

Voting has always been important to me. I’ve always said that if you don’t vote you have no right to bitch. I vote, and I bitch. In fact I can proudly say that I have only missed 4 elections in my entire life (this is includes all local, state and national elections). One of those “missed elections” is the reason Tuesday was so special.

In 1986 on the first Tuesday in November my eldest son was born. After spending the night in the labor room because my pregnancy had just taken a turn from risky to “OMG we are now intervening,” I was being induced. But it was Election Day and I wanted to vote.

I pleaded with the doctors to let me vote before inducing me and I would be right back. They said “No.” I didn’t start into labor right away, and with that, this delivery confirmed to me that it was following the same script as the birth of my daughter 2 years before. I knew I’d have time to vote and get back to the hospital. The doctors said, “No.”

I tried every reason to go vote. The doctors said, "No."

So there I was, wanting so much to vote but giving birth instead. My guys won; Schroeder and Hart, and my son grew up into a non stop talker. Given the activity on day he was born everyone said that it was a sign: he would grow up to be a politician.

He had been looking forward to vote in his first election but last year fate dealt him cruel hand. He turned 18 the day after the national elections. This vote was important to him and his future and he knew it. He wasn’t a happy camper

Tuesday he got to do what he couldn’t do last year. So in between my work, two doctors appointments and after school shuttling, my eldest son voted for the first time. Like his sister before him, I got emotional, especially when the polling workers made a big deal about this being his first vote (gave him a sticker, patted him on the back and cheered).

This is my son, the child I gave birth to on Election Day, exercising his rights as a citizen of the United States, and voting for the first time. While I doubt he will be a politician, he has his sights set elsewhere, I am proud.

To my son, may you miss few votes and always exercise your franchise. May you strive to always be informed and always choose wisely. My you always treasure the rights of this country to affirm or dissent.