Hola peeps

Okay, so I don't have a ton of stuff to say... yeah, yeah, I hear the gasps of disbelief :)
Actually, I wanted to point out a very special story from the Sunday Star-Telegram about a boy named Adam. It was in the life section. In a nutshell, this boy (a recent high school graduate) grew up moving from house to house, from shelter to shelter after leaving his father's abusive hands. His mom is a sometimes recovering drug addict. She couldn't attend his high school graduation because she was in rehab. His story really touched me because, as a writer, I'm always thinking about characters and real life personalities. This boy has defied all statistics to live a semi-normal life while at the same time bowing to his own compulsions. I really hope that he is able to make it, that he becomes the success that he yearns to be. I also wish there was something I could do for him, but I have enough trouble parenting my own child much less taking on the problems of another. Maybe there's something we can do as a community, but who knows. If you'd like to read the whole story, take a look: http://www.dfw.com/mld/dfw/living/14884845.htm

Adam's story makes me even more grateful for the stability I have in my life and the way my parents have always been there for me. The way they still are. Payton Place (mom, dad & Christopher) is a cherished place of memory that speaks of a childhood filled with love and laughter (and moving boxes, c'mon we're military here). We were always the four musketeers. No matter how many friends we had or have, there is the knowledge that we ALWAYS have each other. You know, I thank God every day for the gifts in my life - even when I'm hurting and doubting His wisdom - but lately I've come to realize that besides Connor, the greatest gift I've been blessed with is my family. I don't say it often enough, but I do think about them every day and I'm so glad I have them.
So Mom, thanks for everything you do for me. For always knowing what to say and how to say, when a kick in the butt is better than a kiss on the cheek; for never stifling and for never judging.
Daddy, you are my hero. There is no man in the world who could ever be as good and kind and honorable as you are.
Christopher, despite all my childhood shenanigans (read fast ones) you are my protector, my confidante and my special bond. You, above all others, will be with me always. You have always been there for me and I love you so much. Never take for granted the depths of your soul, because they have molded you into a man to be incredibly proud of. Thank you for being my big brother, for being the kind of big brother who tolerated me always butting in, always demanding and always needing you.
And, even though technically he's not a Payton, Connor, you are my everything. You are the one piece of my soul and heart that will never hurt, never tarnish, never forget. You are already the kind of son a mom dreams about (so, um, yeah we're about to hit the teenage years, I'm bracing myself now). You have so many talents and such an intelligence it's breathtaking. Don't change, bear. Dominate the world as I know you are capable of.
I love you guys. I hope you all know that. I'm so proud to call you family.
P.S. I'm also very glad none of you are named Tito. or Jermaine. or LaToya...