Put YOU On the Pole

This phrase "put you on the pole" is frequently heard here at the Hott House.

No, it is not some strange Miley Cyrus new dance move we encourage as an alternative to her "Wrecking Ball".  Nor are we offering "pole dancing" performance art from our humble abode here in the W. Va. hills.

So if you have arrived at this blog post expecting some erotic exposition of scantily dressed individuals, well, I am sorry to disappoint.  But while you are here, I challenge you to consider what probably is a memory of most childhoods.

Measuring our (your) children's annual growth.

Our third "hottling" recently celebrated his 10th birthday.  It was that day that my hotthubby, Dan, announced, "Come on Isaac!  It's time to 'put you on the pole'!"

You see, ours is a log house structure and smack dab in the center of our living room is a, well,... a pole!

Seen here, it appears to be freshly cut from the forest, right?  (Well, it sort of has.)  You will notice the plethora of names and numbers along our family "pole".

For the Hott Family, it is a bi-annual occurance for each child to be "put on the pole."  We mark each child's height on their birthday as well as their "half birthdays" until at which time they cease to reach new verticle measurements.

Which, for this 48-year-old-grey-haired-pd bloggin-mama-of-four, marks another sort of life measurement all together.  After so many calculations marked, and some include frequent visits from nieces, nephews, and cousins (and the occasional random neighbor kid who just wants to be included on the pole), each tiny mark "marks" a moment in my heart.

You see, this day in history marked the time that my now 10 year old has reached my height.  Grant it, it's barely 5 feet for me.  But, for a short (haha!) moment in time my next to youngest will look his mommy eye to eye.  And, before you know it, Levi will catch up to me too.

For now, I will cherish the time because as they get older (and some reaching the opposite side of the pole) we won't always see "eye to eye", right?

Then our sons in their youth

will be like well-nurtured plants,

and our daughters will be like pillars

carved to adorn a palace. 

Psalms 144:12-14

So, tell me.  Is there a "pole" in your house too?  Maybe a door frame or closet door?  

I may not always be tall enough to measure my children (nieces, nephews, cousins...) on the pole, but we will always see heart to heart.  And for those 6'7" relatives of mine, it is always fun when you return to Hott Mountain to find your mark on Aunt Angie and Uncle Dan's pole... and heart!

Oh My, My, My...Miley

Excuse me....  Miley?

Can I tell you something?

This is my little girl, Violet.  For her 8th birthday party in 2008, you came to our house along with 10 other little girls, younger siblings, friends, parents.  Ahhhhhh... just look how sweet!  Notice that Violet is wearing a Hannah Montana shirt too!

For just a moment in time, we were all movie stars.  Each party participant had a paparazzi photo opp complete with glitter, glam, and shades... and you!  Miley Cyrus!

Oh... my, my, my... Miley.

I am sorry to tell you this, Miley, but I am afraid this 48-year-old-grey-haired-PD bloggin-hott-mama-of-four has to ask you to leave.  I'm afraid you are no longer welcome in our house and I will even be sending your Hannah Montana life size cut out to the trash.

You see, although you once were a child Disney star, now you have become a symbol of all things, well,... sinful: a threat to the hearts and minds of my children.  With younger brothers around, your pop star twerking image now at 20 is not something, shall we say... "appropriate" for not just our 13 year old Violet, but also her much younger brothers.

So, I am afraid I have to insist that you leave.

As a parent, I feel rather betrayed. Don't you?

You see... this family spent our hard earned money to further your career.  We bought exorbitant priced concert tickets, purchased a plethora of your "tweeny" clothing line, watched repeated episodes of your show "Hannah Montana", and cluttered our little girl's bedroom with your merchandise.

Our three year old son even rocked around the house singing your songs!

But enough is enough.

No more.  From now on, I really think you owe us all an apology.  Or, maybe Disney does.  When we parents buy into all things "magical" about Disney, one somewhat expects it to remain rated "G", right?  I mean, I surely hope we never see Minnie Mouse disrobing and dancing around on my television.  If Cinderella or Snow White grow up and ever lick a sponge finger on my screen, this house will never EVer spend another cent on anything Disney.

Of course, I understand all about freedom of expression.  Actually, I hate to give this any more attention than it already has received.  But last weeks parade of the VMA awards over and over again on the media was nothing but a blatant raping of all things innocent and youthful.  From Miley's comments on MSNBC, she said "How many times have we seen this play out in pop music?  Madonna's done it, Britney's done it. Every VMA performance."

Sorry, but those artists weren't invited to Violet's birthday party.  You were.

And sadly, the song taunted as "the biggest hit of summer 2013" was a complete surprise to me and the first I  ever heard of "We Can't Stop."  So, after I looked up the definition of "twerking", my curiosity lead me to youtube to check out what the fuss was all about.

"We Can't Stop" was a shocking slap in the face from nothing more than a troubled pop star.  The song belittles and objectifies women, degrades black females, and threatens to desensitize our younger generation to accept this as normal.  I'm sorry to rain on your party, Miley, but this mom will be blocking all things Miley Cyrus from now on.  For now, this mother CAN stop.

So.  This is MY house and we operate under not just MY rules, but God's rules too.  And in all honesty, while I feel the need to protect my children from your current choices, Miley, I also fondly remember the moments a younger artist was welcome in our house.  God not only judges, honey, but He loves you too. I can't imagine how Billy Rae responded to your display; but, I'm sure your heavenly Father's heart broke a little more at what happened last week as He whispered, "Oh my Miley."

For what once was a positive influence in our culture, Miley Cyrus, you are still a child of God.  Even though your current get-up appears otherwise.

Excuse me, can I tell you something?  Looks a little she has horns, doesn't it? 

"Then one of the seven angels who had the seven bowls came and said to me, “Come, I will show you the judgment of the great prostitute who is seated on many waters, with whom the kings of the earth have committed sexual immorality, and with the wine of whose sexual immorality the dwellers on earth have become drunk.” And he carried me away in the Spirit into a wilderness, and I saw a woman sitting on a scarlet beast that was full of blasphemous names, and it had seven heads and ten horns. The woman was arrayed in purple and scarlet, and adorned with gold and jewels and pearls, holding in her hand a golden cup full of abominations and the impurities of her sexual immorality. And on her forehead was written a name of mystery: “Babylon the great, mother of prostitutes and of earth's abominations.” ...  Revelations 17:1-18