Slow-dancing to the Past Is Orientation for the Future

Sitting with my 2-year old at lunch, I found myself lost in thought and caught up in video clips about the Eliot Spitzer debacle. However, my thought bubble was busted by high-pitched demands for Elmo.

"Wanna watch Elmo!!!" Lips poked out and all.

You know, I've become increasingly desensitized to her cuteness lately, especially when the "terrible twos" are howling from sheep's clothing and pony tails. Yet today, the pb & j painted on her face in ways reminiscent of bad make-up artistry made my heart melt.

So, if I'm going to concede to her wishes for an Elmo video clip on Google, then I'm going to at least choose the video!!! I love the sound of the Goo Goo Dolls, and their clip with Elmo is adorable. (However, I'm not too keen on the secularized self-esteem movement ... another post for another day.)

The video ended before I could finish cleaning up. So I chose another ... after all that is my prerogative!!! For whatever reason, I had a hankering to hear the late 80s hair band, Cinderella. Half way through their video to "Don't Know What You Got (Till It's Gone)," we found ourselves slow dancing to the music. I'm a sucker for sad songs, especially "love" songs.

Listening to the lyrics, while holding her, and while still thinking about Spitzer's escapades really hit me. I can only wonder if he truly appreciates the gravity of what he's done to his family, New York, his own career, and ... helped to "contribute" to "Kristen's" situation. I wonder would he have been as sorry if he had not gotten caught.

Then I began to appreciate the gravity of my responsibility to my beautiful gift from God I was holding. Apparently "Kristen" came from a bad home situation. Despite however willingly she chose her "occupation," Spitzer was merely using her for his own pleasure. And despite whatever she thinks of that for her own life, that breaks my heart for my own daughter. I simply cannot entertain even one quickie of a minute's worth of consideration that my daughter might be "used" one day. My heart breaks harder than Spitzer's bank account has over the past few rendezvouses with his "sweetie."

I don't want to have to wait until she's gone to truly know what I've got right now.

Enjoy the song: