He looked to his left, at the dark dense woods bordering the side of the dirt road. The dirt road he lived on. The dirt road he was walking barefoot, and at night. He could feel the cool Georgia clay beneath his feet, some dirt between his toes.
He thought he saw something large and dark move out of the corner of his eye just as he turned his gaze forward once again. He whipped his head back to the left, but nothing, just the woods.
Although he couldn't see something dark and sinister stalking him, he felt sure something was watching him. Tommy started to feel panic rising within him. He wanted to go home, be home, among his family, but his house was a lot further down the road from where he stood. As he was trying to decide if he should run home, or towards the closer highway for help, a shrill, screaming noise broke the silence around him and sent his heart into such a pounding he was sure it would explode right out of his chest.
"This is not a drill, I repeat, this is not a drill! The mother ship has landed and we need to evacuate!"
"Daaad!" Tommy could hear his little brother Dell groaning from his bunk below.
Tommy sat up, he felt clammy and disoriented. His hands were wet with sweat and his heart was still pounding hard. He realized he had been dreaming, but nevertheless, a feeling of cold fear still clung to him.
"You alright Tommy?" his father asked, standing in the doorway with an airhorn in one hand and a towel in another.
"Yeah Dad, think I was having a dream when you blasted us awake" Tommy said, trying to blink clear the haze of sleep.
"Would you rather I leave you sleeping while extraterrestrials tour the house uninvited and slurped your brains like soup?" his father asked.
Tommy's Dad had a wicked sense of humor, and did have a fascination with life on other planets, but he didn't really believe that E.T.'s would roam the house eating brains like chunky soup.
"Dad, that's weirder than my dream" Tommy replied.
"Shouldn't be eating cat food before bed son, messes with your dreams" Tommy's Dad said. "Here's a towel, hop in the shower", and with that, his Dad tossed the towel up on the bunk to him and walked back down the hall. Tommy didn't eat cat food before he went to bed anymore than little green men were going to dip into his skull with a spoon. He rolled his eyes as he watched his father walk away, but he was smiling, amused by his Dad, and the dark dream, complete with the heart pounding fear, was forgotten about.
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Instinct and Oblivion
My husband and I successfully share one set of instincts. Now, they're pretty powerful and keen instincts, providing supersonic hearing, a wicked sixth sense, and an ability to be able to handle three children talking at you at once ("She's in my spot!", "He took my cup!", "Why do I have to do the litter box?!").
However, like all super powers, this amazing instinct does have a kryptonite. It cannot be shared.
For instance, most of the time I am carrying the instinct. I am top of eight little lives, a house, a husband, dozens of little critters, and once in a while, me. In the midst of a particular moment of chaos; early evening, cooking dinner on the stove, helping with at least four kids' homework, disciplining kids who had less than glamorous notes from their teachers, my son complaining of a bug bite, my daughter covered in sand from outside, the baby on the counter playing with pots and pans in the sink, and my husband is carrying on a conversation with me like we were at Sunday brunch in the park.
This uncanny ability to be able to tune out the chaos is extraordinary. Sometimes I am jealous of this condition of oblivion, but then, every once in a while there's a shift, a change, and the Instinct swaps with the Oblivion. Jay is suddenly on the ball, hears everything, cleans messes, changes diapers, plans dinners, seeks out too-quiet kids, whacks the slackers, and knows what's going on. I, on the other hand, no longer equipped with the Instinct, temporarily inherit Oblivion. Oh, it's nice here. Pleaseant. And I don't have to give much of a hoot because Jason's got it. Whew. Yeah, I take advantage of this! And so does he. He plays, snuggles, and bonds a lot during these times. Very productive on some of the things he may have been slacking or procrastinating on.
We make a great team, Jay and I. Eleven years together and instead of growing apart, we grew around and entwined with each other.
I hope that each one of my children find the same kind of love in their lives. XOXO
However, like all super powers, this amazing instinct does have a kryptonite. It cannot be shared.
For instance, most of the time I am carrying the instinct. I am top of eight little lives, a house, a husband, dozens of little critters, and once in a while, me. In the midst of a particular moment of chaos; early evening, cooking dinner on the stove, helping with at least four kids' homework, disciplining kids who had less than glamorous notes from their teachers, my son complaining of a bug bite, my daughter covered in sand from outside, the baby on the counter playing with pots and pans in the sink, and my husband is carrying on a conversation with me like we were at Sunday brunch in the park.
This uncanny ability to be able to tune out the chaos is extraordinary. Sometimes I am jealous of this condition of oblivion, but then, every once in a while there's a shift, a change, and the Instinct swaps with the Oblivion. Jay is suddenly on the ball, hears everything, cleans messes, changes diapers, plans dinners, seeks out too-quiet kids, whacks the slackers, and knows what's going on. I, on the other hand, no longer equipped with the Instinct, temporarily inherit Oblivion. Oh, it's nice here. Pleaseant. And I don't have to give much of a hoot because Jason's got it. Whew. Yeah, I take advantage of this! And so does he. He plays, snuggles, and bonds a lot during these times. Very productive on some of the things he may have been slacking or procrastinating on.
We make a great team, Jay and I. Eleven years together and instead of growing apart, we grew around and entwined with each other.
I hope that each one of my children find the same kind of love in their lives. XOXO
Ode to In Laws
We recently had issues with Jason's parents. Some of you know the details of the summer trip, but recently Jason had a conversation with his parents about what their problem is. They came up with a whole lot to judge and criticize. Apparently they twist my intentions, misunderstand who I am, who their son is, and read my blog to nitpick. So, to the Maass', here is my rebuttal;
You accused me of lying to you. First of all I don't lie. People who choose not to like me, do so because they can't handle how straight and truthful I am. What does that say about them?
Second, if I had something to lie about, I wouldn't waste it on you. I have no reason to lie to you, nothing to hide, nothing to cover up. You're assuming. If it's real truth you're after, pull up a chair and get a cup of coffee....
You accused me of being a lazy parent. You have no idea. When was the last time you raised 8 kids?
Proof of your ignorance; you accused me of using Emmie to raise the kids (while I did what, pray tell?), when you didn't even know that she was enrolled in school. You told Jason you see him doing everything, but when he doesn't get home from work until after 8 pm, who do you think does the homework with the 6 school, kids? Who cooks dinner? Runs the errands? Does the shopping? Cleans the house? Supervises baths? Reads stories? Kisses boo-boo's? Tucks the kids in at bedtime? Does the laundry? Dishes? Discipline? Why are you so adamant about not giving me credit for taking care of my family??
As far as the week you visited right after Dakota's surgery, hell no I wasn't entertaining! How vain and thick of you to expect it! I am the one who the brunt of everything fell on when we found out Coda needed help. I took care of all the calls, appt.'s, and research. I am the one who held it together when everyone else (Jay and my mom) were falling apart. I am the one who only cried quietly, alone, in the parking garage because I was the only one handling shit up in that hospital room. Talk about exhausted! I was about as exhausted as you can get; physically, mentally and emotionally. I was dealing with issues both at home and at the hospital. You should have been making sure I rested and took care of my house for me. The last thing I needed was in laws who needed to be entertained. You should have stayed home then. I make no apologies for spending a lot of time alone in my room that week.
If you recall, during your previous visit, I cooked a fine meal every night, whether you stayed for it or not.
It seems you also critiqued some of my decisions regarding my children. Even went as far as to mention DFCS. Let me tell you something, anyone who mentions DFCS around my family, has no place around my family. If you were to bring a case against me in court, you'd be boo'd right out of the courtroom. I run circles around both you and Vanessa when it comes to Motherhood. Know your place.
Also, someone who says seeing the kids "isn't worth it", speaks in anger and can't apologize, and seems so determined to see the worst in me... is not a woman of any kind of virtue.
Now, you said something to the effect of, you read my blogs and are upset about the homosexual stuff and what adultery might be going on around here. Well, if you were closer to us, you might know what does, or does not go on around here, but for now, you'll have to suffice with; it's none of your business. Jason and I have been together for 11 years, worry about your own sex life.
Ah, lastly, take your bible and eat it. None of us here are Christians. The bible is a book. It is fallible. We have our own beliefs. If everything you think is centered around your beliefs with no room to accept anything or anyone else, you are not a Christian either. If there is a God, He knows my heart. Jason knows my heart. My kids know my heart. And my friends know my heart. You never got to know it.
Your own biblical interpretations is that you reap what you sow and that you'll bear the fruit of your labors. Well, I have reaped a wonderful, large, healthy, happy, loving family. We have also accomplished more than many people thought we would when we started out. My fruits are plentiful, sweet, and developing well. So who are you to judge?
I can live the rest of my life without seeing any of you again. It's a shame, but I'm done being the victim of your outrageous accusations and unfair assumptions. You still sit up there in NY and can't find it within yourself to call, straighten things out, and apologize. Pop some meds for that bi polar issue, might help you to think more clearly, and with your heart instead of your paranoid delusions.
You accused me of lying to you. First of all I don't lie. People who choose not to like me, do so because they can't handle how straight and truthful I am. What does that say about them?
Second, if I had something to lie about, I wouldn't waste it on you. I have no reason to lie to you, nothing to hide, nothing to cover up. You're assuming. If it's real truth you're after, pull up a chair and get a cup of coffee....
You accused me of being a lazy parent. You have no idea. When was the last time you raised 8 kids?
Proof of your ignorance; you accused me of using Emmie to raise the kids (while I did what, pray tell?), when you didn't even know that she was enrolled in school. You told Jason you see him doing everything, but when he doesn't get home from work until after 8 pm, who do you think does the homework with the 6 school, kids? Who cooks dinner? Runs the errands? Does the shopping? Cleans the house? Supervises baths? Reads stories? Kisses boo-boo's? Tucks the kids in at bedtime? Does the laundry? Dishes? Discipline? Why are you so adamant about not giving me credit for taking care of my family??
As far as the week you visited right after Dakota's surgery, hell no I wasn't entertaining! How vain and thick of you to expect it! I am the one who the brunt of everything fell on when we found out Coda needed help. I took care of all the calls, appt.'s, and research. I am the one who held it together when everyone else (Jay and my mom) were falling apart. I am the one who only cried quietly, alone, in the parking garage because I was the only one handling shit up in that hospital room. Talk about exhausted! I was about as exhausted as you can get; physically, mentally and emotionally. I was dealing with issues both at home and at the hospital. You should have been making sure I rested and took care of my house for me. The last thing I needed was in laws who needed to be entertained. You should have stayed home then. I make no apologies for spending a lot of time alone in my room that week.
If you recall, during your previous visit, I cooked a fine meal every night, whether you stayed for it or not.
It seems you also critiqued some of my decisions regarding my children. Even went as far as to mention DFCS. Let me tell you something, anyone who mentions DFCS around my family, has no place around my family. If you were to bring a case against me in court, you'd be boo'd right out of the courtroom. I run circles around both you and Vanessa when it comes to Motherhood. Know your place.
Also, someone who says seeing the kids "isn't worth it", speaks in anger and can't apologize, and seems so determined to see the worst in me... is not a woman of any kind of virtue.
Now, you said something to the effect of, you read my blogs and are upset about the homosexual stuff and what adultery might be going on around here. Well, if you were closer to us, you might know what does, or does not go on around here, but for now, you'll have to suffice with; it's none of your business. Jason and I have been together for 11 years, worry about your own sex life.
Ah, lastly, take your bible and eat it. None of us here are Christians. The bible is a book. It is fallible. We have our own beliefs. If everything you think is centered around your beliefs with no room to accept anything or anyone else, you are not a Christian either. If there is a God, He knows my heart. Jason knows my heart. My kids know my heart. And my friends know my heart. You never got to know it.
Your own biblical interpretations is that you reap what you sow and that you'll bear the fruit of your labors. Well, I have reaped a wonderful, large, healthy, happy, loving family. We have also accomplished more than many people thought we would when we started out. My fruits are plentiful, sweet, and developing well. So who are you to judge?
I can live the rest of my life without seeing any of you again. It's a shame, but I'm done being the victim of your outrageous accusations and unfair assumptions. You still sit up there in NY and can't find it within yourself to call, straighten things out, and apologize. Pop some meds for that bi polar issue, might help you to think more clearly, and with your heart instead of your paranoid delusions.
How to get your child to behave in the supermarket (a Helium article)
I have a large family, so when I shop for groceries, we’re talking about over an hour in the store, an overflowing cart, and a minimum of two kids with me. Other than having better things to do, I can‘t say I dread it. There are no temper tantrums or melt downs. There is no demanding of what they want or stomping of feet. I also don’t bribe or yell. My secret? Duct tape. Just kidding.
Children are very intuitive little creatures and can smell weakness like a coyote smells a rabbit. They also have more energy than we do and are prepared for long battles, if it means the end result will be their way. Too many moms let this get to them. They try to fight a good fight, but tend to end up exhausted and surrendering to the whims of person that’s 2 feet and 100 pounds smaller than they are. This is like a dog walking the owner or an lion training the tamer.
First of all, remember who is the boss. (That’s you, not them, by the way). Let them know that you have to go shopping and you expect them to behave. If they’re not used to behaving, lay out some rules. Think about this beforehand because if you pause, stutter, hesitate, or seem unsure, they’ll immediately register weakness and play it against you. Some examples of rules; There is NO running. NO leaving the cart. NO yelling. DON’T ask for anything. And DON’T hide under the shelves. Look them in the eye when you lay this out for them. If you don’t think they’re paying attention, have them repeat the rules back to you. Helps them to register it sometimes (if it doesn’t have something to do with candy or a game controller, they may discard it as irrelevant information).
Set consequences for any broken rules. Again, think about this ahead of time. A significant mistake often made in parenting is not being consistent, or not following through on threats. Some popular “worn out Mom phrases” I often hear are, “Do you want a time out/spank?”. Really, what does this accomplish? Is the child going to say, “Yes, as a matter of fact, that’s exactly what I was going for”? No silly, this is a futile effort on your part to hope that the child cares enough about you being frustrated that he’ll have empathy and quit misbehaving. Key word; futile. They don’t care. Remember, it’s the end result they’re after.
Another “worn out Mom phrase" is, ”I won’t buy you anything if you don’t stop”. Say what? First of all, we all know, including the child, that you’re going to buy something anyway. So this is a waste of breath. Besides, shouldn’t your children be behaving because they’re taught to, not because you’re bribing them to? What’s going to happen when the bribe you are offering isn’t good enough? Yikes, it will get worse.
Now some good consequences for unacceptable behavior that I have used are; a pinch under the arm as a warning that they are getting out of hand and that I notice. (Settle down, I’m not talking bruises). It’s a silent reminder. No yelling necessary. Let them know ahead of time that you will do this so they know it’s a signal (that they better quit!). After that, if the poor behavior continues, it’s a good time for an embarrassing whack on the backside. The humiliation, not the whack, humbles them and sends them a clear message that you’re paying attention and that you’re serious. Last resort, turn around and bring them out of the store. Take them to the car and choke them. JUST. KIDDING. But do follow through with a serious punishment. Something that will make them regret their behavior and think twice about trying to pull it again. Such as; no video games until they can prove they can behave during the next shopping trip. Or no dessert, early bedtime, extra chores, digging holes… until next shopping trip. This keeps them on the hook, and your expectations fresh on their mind for next time. And next time should be more pleasant.
If not, there’s always duct tape.
Having so many children really does put a lot of stress on the wallet. Matter of fact, it beats it with a tree branch and the Macy's turkey Day Parade marches over it. Putting clothes on their backs takes up a chunk of the budget. While we do get to pass along a decent amount of wardrobe from one kid to the next, I still have to buy some new clothes, for each one, a couple of times a year.
When I was growing up we were poor. Shopping was done at the St. Mary's Church and my Grandmother and mother weren't very particular about what they pulled off the racks. As long as it fit and didn't have holes or stains. Ok, so I lived, but being a modern Mom, I try to be more style savvy about what I get for my kids.
I do shop at the Goodwill. I can spend a long time there, sorting through rack after rack, and find some awesome clothes that even my teen and pre teen like. Sears has good sales, some stuff comes from Wal-Mart, and I pick up the occasional outfits from Old Navy, Children's Place, etc. The picture I'm trying to paint here is that my kids, despite there being so many, and my husband's wallet being beat like meat, are bought nice clothing.
Well, all that to get to this....
I send them outside to wait for their bus (which comes down our driveway b/c we're so far from the road) and they do what kids do, they play. They jump, they roll, they clobber, they tackle, they throw, they run, and they trip. So by the time the bus rolls down the driveway, all the trouble I went to, the money I spent, and the time I invested in picking out cool outfits, and these kids are getting on the bus and going to school covered in grass, hay, clay, mud and dirt. On their clothes, in their hair, stuck to their backpacks. :/
I often wonder what their teachers must think.
So to all the teachers out there, and anyone else who sees my son wearing Old Navy pants with grass on the knee, or my daughter in a Children's Place dress with hay stuck to it, I did not send them out of my care that way. Last I had them, they were bathed, brushed, combed, tucked in, and looking nice. There's a vortex, a time warp, a black hole if you will, between my front door, and the door of the school bus, where chaos ensues. Jay and I have both tried to fight it, but try as we might, it's a place where we just can't quite reach. I think you have to be under five feet tall to get in.
"Kiah! Tie your shoelaces before you..... Kiah! Now you have grass all over you!"
"Gabbi, don't roll with the puppies on the ground before school!"
"Zoe, don't kick the dirt around"
"DJ! Don't tackle your brother!"
"Zachy! Don't tackle DJ!"
"Kiah, tie your shoes!"
Sigh. It's a battle I fight with valor and yet my kids still go to school looking like they live outside, dirty clothes, hair a mess, shirts untucked and shoes scuffed. Old lady in the shoe comes to mind.
But I must admit, after the first bus comes and goes, and as the the second bus' engine idles away into the distance, I exhale. It no longer matters what they're wearing to school. The grass stains don't matter. The mussed up hair doesn't matter. And the untied shoes don't matter, b/c when I start to walk around the house to begin my household chores, I curse the little buggers for the chaos they leave behind after they leave, and I swear I'm going to choke every one of them when they get home. In which case, clothing becomes unnecessary. :)
Settle down, I haven't killed one yet. ;)
When I was growing up we were poor. Shopping was done at the St. Mary's Church and my Grandmother and mother weren't very particular about what they pulled off the racks. As long as it fit and didn't have holes or stains. Ok, so I lived, but being a modern Mom, I try to be more style savvy about what I get for my kids.
I do shop at the Goodwill. I can spend a long time there, sorting through rack after rack, and find some awesome clothes that even my teen and pre teen like. Sears has good sales, some stuff comes from Wal-Mart, and I pick up the occasional outfits from Old Navy, Children's Place, etc. The picture I'm trying to paint here is that my kids, despite there being so many, and my husband's wallet being beat like meat, are bought nice clothing.
Well, all that to get to this....
I send them outside to wait for their bus (which comes down our driveway b/c we're so far from the road) and they do what kids do, they play. They jump, they roll, they clobber, they tackle, they throw, they run, and they trip. So by the time the bus rolls down the driveway, all the trouble I went to, the money I spent, and the time I invested in picking out cool outfits, and these kids are getting on the bus and going to school covered in grass, hay, clay, mud and dirt. On their clothes, in their hair, stuck to their backpacks. :/
I often wonder what their teachers must think.
So to all the teachers out there, and anyone else who sees my son wearing Old Navy pants with grass on the knee, or my daughter in a Children's Place dress with hay stuck to it, I did not send them out of my care that way. Last I had them, they were bathed, brushed, combed, tucked in, and looking nice. There's a vortex, a time warp, a black hole if you will, between my front door, and the door of the school bus, where chaos ensues. Jay and I have both tried to fight it, but try as we might, it's a place where we just can't quite reach. I think you have to be under five feet tall to get in.
"Kiah! Tie your shoelaces before you..... Kiah! Now you have grass all over you!"
"Gabbi, don't roll with the puppies on the ground before school!"
"Zoe, don't kick the dirt around"
"DJ! Don't tackle your brother!"
"Zachy! Don't tackle DJ!"
"Kiah, tie your shoes!"
Sigh. It's a battle I fight with valor and yet my kids still go to school looking like they live outside, dirty clothes, hair a mess, shirts untucked and shoes scuffed. Old lady in the shoe comes to mind.
But I must admit, after the first bus comes and goes, and as the the second bus' engine idles away into the distance, I exhale. It no longer matters what they're wearing to school. The grass stains don't matter. The mussed up hair doesn't matter. And the untied shoes don't matter, b/c when I start to walk around the house to begin my household chores, I curse the little buggers for the chaos they leave behind after they leave, and I swear I'm going to choke every one of them when they get home. In which case, clothing becomes unnecessary. :)
Settle down, I haven't killed one yet. ;)
Misery and its company
Recently I found out that there's a few people from high school (I graduated sixteen years ago) who can't stand me. Save your tears, I'm ok with it. What I was, was shocked.
It began with an old classmate having a tree fall through her bedroom roof during a bad storm. Nobody was hurt, they were sleeping in the basement, and it was only the bedroom that was damaged. They had insurance, a place to stay at their parents house, and a trailer provided for them while repairs are being done to restore the bedroom.
Day after day went by and this chick is going on and on about how everything is horrible, she's devastated, has a headache, too much to do... sing me a song, oh violin player.
Let me establish that I do feel badly about anyone going through any kind of a rough time. Especially when children are involved. I will always offer advice, a helping hand, a shoulder to cry on, or some lasagna and cupcakes. Well, this chick lives in another state, so I couldn't do much of that, but I did offer some positive thoughts when it first happened.
After maybe a week of pity posts from my old classmate, I thought of some advice to give her. Regarding a post that said she had a throbbing headache, I responded with something to the effect of, "Nobody was hurt, you have insurance, you have places to stay, and you're ending up with a new bedroom. Some thankfulness might take care of that headache".
Now I really meant that with the best of intentions. The best thing you can do for someone in her situation is get her to pick up her big girl panties and get on with it. Or is that just me?
What she lost was minimal. And it was all being replaced. With accommodations for all their needs in the meantime.
She's lucky.
There are people who have lost everything to fires. Men and women who lost their jobs during the recession and are still struggling. Families who lost their homes to foreclosure, floods and hurricanes. And parents who are walking out of hospitals without their little ones. There is no insurance company in the world that can replace those kind of losses. It's not as simple as living in a trailer for three months waiting to move into your new bedroom and life goes back to normal.
Well, she and a couple of her friends didn't agree with me. That's alright, not everyone does. But then they started some juvenile BS that took me back to elementary school. One girl, whom I barely even remember, said she couldn't stand me. Hmm, I must have made a bigger impression in her life than she did in mine. I'll have to go look her up in the yearbook, see if I can remember who she is. Or not.
Another chick, whom I don't know at all, jumped in with saying I must be too busy "kicking puppies" when I wouldn't respond to their immature taunts. I did respond to that, however, asking what she was talking about, but she didn't want to tell. Alrighty then.
NOTE; I do not kick puppies. Without reason. Just kidding. I don't.
These are full grown women, ladies and gentlemen. Wives, business owners, parents. Sticking their tongues out at me and calling me names. Because I told them something they didn't want to hear. I wonder if they stomped their feet while typing out their insults at me too?
Moral of my story; appreciate what you have. Look on the bright side. Count your blessings. Think of people who have it far worse than you. And steer clear of people being negative, they can get nasty, mean, and childish. They don't want your advice, they just want your attention and sympathy because they lack their own coping skills. Misery loves company, and that's one party I refuse to attend.
It began with an old classmate having a tree fall through her bedroom roof during a bad storm. Nobody was hurt, they were sleeping in the basement, and it was only the bedroom that was damaged. They had insurance, a place to stay at their parents house, and a trailer provided for them while repairs are being done to restore the bedroom.
Day after day went by and this chick is going on and on about how everything is horrible, she's devastated, has a headache, too much to do... sing me a song, oh violin player.
Let me establish that I do feel badly about anyone going through any kind of a rough time. Especially when children are involved. I will always offer advice, a helping hand, a shoulder to cry on, or some lasagna and cupcakes. Well, this chick lives in another state, so I couldn't do much of that, but I did offer some positive thoughts when it first happened.
After maybe a week of pity posts from my old classmate, I thought of some advice to give her. Regarding a post that said she had a throbbing headache, I responded with something to the effect of, "Nobody was hurt, you have insurance, you have places to stay, and you're ending up with a new bedroom. Some thankfulness might take care of that headache".
Now I really meant that with the best of intentions. The best thing you can do for someone in her situation is get her to pick up her big girl panties and get on with it. Or is that just me?
What she lost was minimal. And it was all being replaced. With accommodations for all their needs in the meantime.
She's lucky.
There are people who have lost everything to fires. Men and women who lost their jobs during the recession and are still struggling. Families who lost their homes to foreclosure, floods and hurricanes. And parents who are walking out of hospitals without their little ones. There is no insurance company in the world that can replace those kind of losses. It's not as simple as living in a trailer for three months waiting to move into your new bedroom and life goes back to normal.
Well, she and a couple of her friends didn't agree with me. That's alright, not everyone does. But then they started some juvenile BS that took me back to elementary school. One girl, whom I barely even remember, said she couldn't stand me. Hmm, I must have made a bigger impression in her life than she did in mine. I'll have to go look her up in the yearbook, see if I can remember who she is. Or not.
Another chick, whom I don't know at all, jumped in with saying I must be too busy "kicking puppies" when I wouldn't respond to their immature taunts. I did respond to that, however, asking what she was talking about, but she didn't want to tell. Alrighty then.
NOTE; I do not kick puppies. Without reason. Just kidding. I don't.
These are full grown women, ladies and gentlemen. Wives, business owners, parents. Sticking their tongues out at me and calling me names. Because I told them something they didn't want to hear. I wonder if they stomped their feet while typing out their insults at me too?
Moral of my story; appreciate what you have. Look on the bright side. Count your blessings. Think of people who have it far worse than you. And steer clear of people being negative, they can get nasty, mean, and childish. They don't want your advice, they just want your attention and sympathy because they lack their own coping skills. Misery loves company, and that's one party I refuse to attend.
The new "gay", my $.02
There is currently a hot debate over the term "gay". As in, "That movie was so gay", or, "My mom won't let me go to the party, she's being gay". In my opinion, it's just something else to get hot under the collar about and protest. Ironically, it seems to be the "straight" community who takes the most offense. Well, thanks for stepping up to the plate, but really, there's no need to get all popular-actress-in-a-commercial about it.
As most of us know, "gay" used to mean "joyful", "carefree", "bright and showy" (http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Gay). As a matter of fact, this was how the term "gay" was used for most of its existence (twelfth century-seventeenth century). In the late seventeenth century it came to mean "addicted to pleasures and dissipations." ( Oxford English Dictionary, entry for Gay.). "In the early 19th Century it was used to refer to women who lived off immoral earnings," (Clive Upton, professor of Modern English Language at Leeds University). And then in the nineteen seventies it became a term to describe the homosexual lifestyle.
Nowadays it has taken on a different meaning;
(http://www.urbandictionary.com/define.php?term=gay&page=2)
Hey, speaking of lame, "lame" used to mean;
impaired or disabled through defect or injury: a lame arm. (1)
Then;
4. Slang . out of touch with modern fads or trends;unsophisticated. (3) [ (1), (2), and (3) all taken from http://dictionary.reference.com/browse/lame )
As most of us know, "gay" used to mean "joyful", "carefree", "bright and showy" (http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Gay). As a matter of fact, this was how the term "gay" was used for most of its existence (twelfth century-seventeenth century). In the late seventeenth century it came to mean "addicted to pleasures and dissipations." ( Oxford English Dictionary, entry for Gay.). "In the early 19th Century it was used to refer to women who lived off immoral earnings," (Clive Upton, professor of Modern English Language at Leeds University). And then in the nineteen seventies it became a term to describe the homosexual lifestyle.
Nowadays it has taken on a different meaning;
| gay | ||
You're so gay! That was the lamest joke ever! | ||
When you hear somebody referring to a movie as being gay, a joke as being gay, or the person telling the joke as being gay, they are not accusing the movie, joke, or jokester as being homosexual, they are saying it was "stupid", "lame", "boring" or just generally disliked.
Even when I call my lgbt friends "gay", I'm not telling them they are homosexual, they already know that, I'm saying something they did or said was lame.
Hey, speaking of lame, "lame" used to mean;
lame
1 nounadjective
1.
crippled or physically disabled, especially in the foot or leg soas to limp or walk with difficulty.
2.
Then;
3.
weak; inadequate; unsatisfactory; clumsy: a lame excuse. (2)
And THEN;
So do disabled people take offense when something is referred to as "lame"? Did happy people get pissed when the homosexuals took "gay"? And the next time someone says I look "killer", should I come up with an alibi? :P
The English language is ever evolving. If it didn't we'd be saying, "Wherefore art thou?" instead of "Where you at?" ;) Come on now people, get with it. :P
Helium article; Would you rather have courage or wisdom?
Article Toolsby Kelly Mastanduno
- Created on: January 03, 2008
Courage and wisdom; two extremely valuable and noble traits.
Each of these terms come with a certain amount of loose interpretation. For the sake of this essay I interpret courage as the ability to act from the heart without fear, insecurities or defenses. I take wisdom to mean having knowledge, book smarts, intelligence.
If I was faced with having to choose one or the other, I'd choose courage.
Humans are herd animals, if you will, with a seemingly innate desire to "fit in". If our neighbors are buying octagon houses and wearing red boa scarves, despite our initial and true preferences, we begin to desire the octagon houses and red boa scarves. We want to be accepted and loved, admired and adored, even by strangers and those whose opinions should not matter. It takes courage to buy the square house and wear a striped knit scarf, if that's what you truly prefer. But when you have the courage to follow your heart rather than settle for what everybody else is doing, it is only then that you will know what real freedom and happiness is. It is only then that your eyes can open wide enough to be able to see all of life around you rather then the narrow way outlined for you by others.
With wisdom alone you may know how the world around you ticks, but without courage you will never fully experience the wondrous joys that it offers. You may know how the mountains came to be, but without courage you cannot climb those mountains and explore the beauty that lies in reaching the top.
With wisdom you may know how to build buildings, computers and even fortunes. Without courage however, you will not know how to build healthy relationships, loving families or loving friendships.
See, you can have brains, but that alone can leave you lonely and empty without the courage to truly reach your full potential and to take chances on enjoying life. It takes courage to lay down goals and to push through adversities to reach them. It takes courage to speak your mind and open your heart. It takes courage to face problems that arise in this imperfect world and to overcome them. It takes courage to be honest, just and fair.
Being intelligent may earn you accolades, but will not earn you true respect. Being intelligent can earn you a fat bank account, but money will never buy the freedom and happiness of being brave enough to face criticism and failure. With courage you can accept your mistakes and fix them, you can recognize your weaknesses and strengthen them. You can admit to your shortcomings and have the confidence it takes to "do the right thing", even if it goes against the crowds of "followers".
Brains doesn't make you a better person, but courage can.
How do the clouds know when to rain?
Does it mean the sky is sad?
My mother answered, Oh my Love!
It’s nothing near that bad!
You see the clouds that float up high,
That pass the tallest trees?
They whisper to each other,
About each others needs.
The trees talk to the flowers,
The flowers to the plants,
The plants are close down to the ground,
And they talk to the ants.
The ants are all around,
They talk to dogs and cats,
Who also talk to birds,
Horses, cows and bats.
So when someone gets thirsty,
Dirty, dry or hot,
The trees will tell the clouds,
To move over to that spot.
See everyone needs rain,
Down to every blade of grass,
So when a cloud feels heavy,
The trees tell it where to pass.
The cloud goes where it’s needed,
The wind blows it on its way,
And after it rains down all its raindrops,
Watch the colors come out to play.
The grass becomes much greener,
The flowers bloom their buds,
The dust is washed off the horses,
They don’t need soap or suds.
And then the cloud is empty,
And goes along it’s way,
To gather some more rain,
To spread another day.
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