Once Upon An Adoption

I can't remember when my parents first told my sister and I that we were adopted.  I think they were telling us before we could even crawl and most definitely before we could walk.  Somewhere around my freshman year of high school (you know, a few years ago minus twenty-blah, blah, blah) when those irritating after school specials would come on channels like PBS depicting teenagers that decided to run away because they had a sneaking suspicion that they weren't birthed from the people that raised them from even before they could form a single thought?  I know there were other topics but I can only remember that one and the one about the girl who would order over a dozen donuts at a time when she was old enough to drive because her parents wouldn't let her eat any sugar as a child.  That one didn't bother me of course...I adore donuts and made my own plans to do the same (I was allowed sugar by the way).  Besides, who can't eat a dozen "Hot Fresh Now's"?!  But I digress.  My topic is about the first thing I mentioned - adoption.

I love the story of our adoption and how we were welcomed into the best family one could hope for.  Maybe it won't be as cool to you but I'm writin' it so hopefully you'll find it at least a little entertaining.  I'm also writing about this because I know some people that are trying to adopt right now.  I only told them one piece of advice - don't ever try to hide the adoption from the child if you're blessed to get one (hello, that's an "after school TV special" waiting to happen).  I can't think of one good reason why the new parents would hide it like it's the horrible family secret.  Heck, a lot of folks in my extended family don't even think about it after years and years and say things like "you look so much like your mother I tell ya!"  Or the funniest one when I was still growing was "well, we know you'll at least be around 5'7" like your mom!".  Oddly, they were right...how weird is that?!  I do have a strange theory about how we grow to look like the people we live with over the years but that's a whole different post and after a whole lotta wine (not really, I believe it even when I'm drinking coffee).  Good Lord, I've strayed in thought again!  I need a mental fishing pole so I can reel myself in more efficiently.

So, the story goes like this...

Once upon a time there was a wonderful couple that could not have any children.  After a few years of marriage when they decided they were ready to add to their little family of two they knew exactly what they needed to do.  After the couple (we'll call them Mom and Dad or my parents for this telling) filled out the necessary paperwork to adopt it was all about the waiting.  They waited and waited and waited (a year and a half to be exact).  Meanwhile an evil witch (we'll call her their neighbor...and she probably wasn't evil...my story) had put in an application to adopt as well sometime after my parents had.  Still awaiting any news from their case worker my Mom saw the neighbor walking down the street pushing a stroller!  A stroller! The neighbor wasn't practicing with a Cabbage Patch Kid...she was pushing a real live little baby!!  How could this be?  Why wouldn't they get a little one to add to their family first?  How heart breaking for the wonderful couple.  But the wise case worker handling their case had bigger plans for my parents - for she knew there was going to be a BOGO coming up soon...kidding...it was going to be double coupon day...again I joke.  No, the case worker knew that my parents were good people and that soon she would be able to introduce them to not just one little baby girl, but two!  And wouldn't you know, they were the most beautiful babies in all the land!!  Okay, most all babies are adorable...what...ever.  The wonderful couple was so happy. After a few meetings with the wise case worker and spending some time with the twin babies the day came that the little girls found a permanent warm and loving home.  Everyone lived happily ever after. 

The End  <see below for extras>

Cut "Scenes" & Facts

1.  The Mom got to walk down the street in front of the evil witch's house with a double stroller.  Yes she did!
2.  Everyone indeed lived happily ever after...with mostly normal, non-fairytale issues like all other real families.
3.  The Mom tells the story much better than the author of this post and not at all like a corny fairytale.
4.  No animals were intentionally hurt during the history of this tale, but a goldfish did overeat and explode about the same year that Atari became popular.  Also, several wonderful dogs and one cat have passed through the families lives and they loved each one (even the cat).
5.  The twins wore beautiful yellow dresses the day they found a forever-home! Fact: the younger twin looked the best in it.

There are some things that will not stay hidden forever and whether you want them to be or not, kids are curious creatures and the older they get the better they are at finding things.  Furthermore, if they do find out later in life how would you expect them to feel?  You only showed your child that you were embarrassed about having to adopt them!  Tell them from day one and it will just part of who they are.  My sister and I think it's a special "trait" to have.  And bonus, we have our birthday and our adoption birthday - when we really started living.  How awesome is that?!  Wait, does that make me like 80 years old?  I gotta go find a calculator...and a walker...maybe some prunes...

"On the day the social workers were coming, we sat at the dining room window watching for the car knowing something was in store that would change our lives -all four lives forever." (A quote from my beautiful Mom, Janie Matthews)

Bipolar - Lucky & Alive by Jennifer

I just wrote the most personal of all my posts the other day with approval by my bipolar twin sister, Jennifer.  It took her a few days to be able to read what I wrote from start to finish and she wrote my parents and me the most wonderful "thank you note" I've ever received and also was able to add even more insight to her disorder.  I felt it necessary to create it's own post instead of just letting it go to the comment section (Bipolar Disorder Doesn't Mean Quack To Me).

From my sister Jennifer:

Well, now that I have found my voice and quit crying over the beauty and poignancy of Barbara's blog about our family rally, trials, and ultimate domination over my life-long demon, I want to say again...THANK YOU!!! We are a family of Super Hero's and it does in fact take that dang village everyone talks about no matter how small! I am lucky.

To say there are no bad days or weeks or even longer sometimes is not the case. And I know very confidently that my Super Hero's are always ready with their capes and neat gadgets. I also know that you recognize the signs and I don't have to point those times out which is so thoughtful of each of you. I am lucky.

My mornings start early but slower than most as I must evaluate my mindset, pull up my mental boot straps, pull up my big girl undies and decide to make it a great damn day ("come Hell or high water" as daddy would say). Then I sit on the edge of my bed, practice and test out which Jennifer is with me and match that smile (HA!! still no cavities) with her and usually like it, then slap my palms to my thighs and say "LET'S DO THIS"!!! Then I'm on my way...or on my way to my Super Heroes if none of that works...hey...even a cheerleader of her own crusade falls off the pyramid sometimes! This doesn't take long but it's necessary, just as much as my breakfast of various medications is, so I will take my mental meds daily too for as long as the sun rises in my life. I am lucky.

I still forget promises made, which frankly stinks as I feel like I disappoint people or I'm embarrassed to say "HEY! What did we decide to do about...". And sometimes I still turn into that hermit crab and just can't find the energy to pick up the phone just to chat, which seems trivial and easy to most but feels like climbing the tallest mountain to me. But I know that no matter what, you all, who are my best friends, will be waiting for me to change that mountain into a molehill. I am lucky.

So, I will say again, THANK YOU!!! Thank you for stepping in and up. Staying strong and with me. Being hard or soft and loving me for me! I am lucky.

Barbara, you amaze me with your insight. You showed me that there is more humor to find and more to come and I'm excited! I too have memories that make me laugh like a loon and I think...wow...we needed that! It's usually within our "Super Family" and isn't that wonderful?!? I am lucky.

I love you all!!!
Me

P.S. I am LUCKY!!!

Bipolar Doesn't Mean Quack To Me

bipolar disorder

noun, Psychiatry.

an affective disorder characterized by periods of mania alternating with periods of depression, usually interspersed with relatively long intervals of normal mood. http://dictionary.reference.com/browse/bipolar+disorder

 

I've been wanting to write about bipolar disorder for a long time now.  I personally don't suffer from it but my best friend and identical twin does (same person most of the time).  This by no means is a medical or scientific post about what it means to be bipolar - it's my Barbservations only. Once I made up my mind to write about this very personal subject I asked not once, not twice, but three times if my sister was okay with me writing this post.  She said "what did I answer last night?"...no really, she did.  Don't worry folks...she said yes most of the time!

 

Bipolar disorder is nothing to take lightly, but over the years of learning about it and living with it through my sister I have found it not only wise but necessary to look for the lighter side of this disorder in an effort to live a happy life.  But before I get into the anecdotal side of bipolar world, I think I should write about the darker side that we all try to hide from her, her from us, and us from the world.  Bipolar disorder is one of the worst chemical imbalances diagnosed to date and her diagnosis is second only to schizophrenia. See, there are several levels of this disorder and unlike cake the more levels doesn't equal better.  I have learned that living with this disorder is not only mentally crippling, it is potentially as deadly as any terminal disease.  There is no cure; only the persons willingness to survive and their drive to live will carry them through life.  My sister is a winner on every level and continues to fight for her life.  I remember when she was first diagnosed we were told that our family should consider ourselves lucky because she wasn't self-medicating, living on the street or already dead.  Well, how does one digest that information?  How about having the person diagnosed sitting across from you in a Starbucks sharing the news like it's the punchline in life's little joke.  On top of that, how could we not have all the hope in the world when we could look around my sisters life and clearly see that she had an awesome kid and great job that she kicked butt at everyday and simultaneously remained family oriented more so than most anybody?  That's not to say she didn't have her moments where the dark took over.  There were times that we couldn't reach her on the phone, get a response on email or even find her.  It takes a very long time to find the right amount of each medicine to keep the dark at bay...and not really even at bay, more like help in choking down the dark emotions that hide her from us.  My sister, in my opinion, made a conscience decision to keep living in "our" world where she could have friends, family, support and love.  Before the days where she could count on her medicine to help with the darkness, my sister went to many bad places in her own head but fought tooth and nail to climb back to us and be with us.  This is not the easy way for a person diagnosed with bipolar disorder; it would be much easier for her to lose all sense of self and look to drugs, alcohol, etc to help her make it from day to day.  She chose to take control for herself and for her family and for that she is a fighter and I admire that.  There were days that I'd get so mad at her that I couldn't see straight and until I realized that she wasn't just being flippant or rude I would rail on her about not getting back to me.  But eventually I would realize that she actually didn't remember our plans or conversations that we had just the night before.  During the long years of pre-diagnosis, incorrect diagnosis', wrong medicines, and wrong levels of correct medications it was a hard time for the whole family but little did I know how far back the symptoms started.  I found out only recently that my mom would drive my sister around when she was angry beyond consolation back when we were in high school.  I seriously had no idea!  Any negative moods I saw I just chalked up to teenage angst.  That's also a hat-tip to my wonderful parents who showered love and patience (and believe me, that had to be a tough thing to do) on my sister even during her "angry moments" and taught both their children the value of owning ones actions - we learned about consequences and that's something that I fear is missing in a lot of our younger generation today.  Once graduation happened we only saw each other on weekend getaways and such and those seemed to be her manic times now that I reflect on the past.  My sister would want to shop and eat out and have all kinds of fun and I was in for that ride for certain!  I remember thinking one time that my sister was the most fun and generous person in the world.  But when it got worse and more frequent she would call and ask me what we spent money on the day before..."What?  Aren't you wearing the new shirt you bought?"  Turns out, she hadn't ever taken what she bought out of her car!  I got really good at returning items that had never even been out of the shopping bag for her.  The excitement of our visits seemed to trigger her "highs" and I had no idea for a long, long time.  When we were together she was like a candle burning too brightly at both ends - and eventually she'd burn out every night and retreat into sleep.  She didn't get her worst until her mid-twenties and that's when the family rallied and my parents found a great specialist for her instead of watching her drift out of our lives so we could just sit around and worry about her not knowing where or how she was living.  It was really rough on all of us but of course on her the most.  She stuck with us though and I still have my sister!  And I can tell you that we annoyed the hell out of her so I'm super proud of her.  It's hard to know where to draw the line when micro-managing another persons emotional state!

 

It's really easy to get frustrated at someone that's been diagnosed with a disorder that can literally have them take unannounced sporadic bouts of absence from your life.  You decide that "one more time" they don't show up or forget they promised to come over you're gonna let them have it.  But you don't - if you truly love that person you take a deep breath and thank the Heaven's above that they can still come to see you when they do!  At most you beg them to get help and to please not disappear again.  My sister is like anyone else sometimes too - she just wants to sit on her couch and enjoy a movie instead of texting all night or updating her status on social networks.  But when you've been labeled with a disorder such as bipolar disorder people are quick to jump on that as a reason you're not in a good mood, just want to chill all night, don't answer the phone or cancel on plans.  Sometimes just relaxing sounds more enticing to anyone, not just the chemically imbalanced.  And that brings me to one of the worst parts of being bipolar...other people!  One of the reasons my sister did her best to hide her disorder is because those that don't think past their own views use that to shut her down - "Well, I can't argue with you, you're bipolar and you'll never see my point!" or "you don't agree with me because your meds have worn off for the day!".  Heck, some people (and I've been guilty of this in the past) refuse to argue or will agree with anything to avoid setting the bipolar girl off.  Well, she's not a time bomb!  If you're an idiot you're gonna piss anyone off and she's no different.  One of the most crippling effects of being bipolar is how others treat you.  My sister isn't a perfect person and neither are we; if my bipolar twin can take ownership of her disorder and treat others with respect and know when it's appropriate to voice her opinion and when it's wise to keep her mouth shut (not to mention also excelling in her fast-paced job) then how is it that those of us that don't have chemical imbalances not know how to utilize common sense and social grace?  I know I've been labeled as obsessive compulsive but that's nothing compared to bipolar disorder and I would be ashamed if I used my disorder as an excuse to show my arse when my own sister is controlling her actions and reactions better than a lot of people I know.

 

If you want to live life at the fullest, I believe that it's best to find the humor in everything.  Don't you remember the funny things that someone did even after their passing?  I remember when my Grandpapa passed away that my sister and I found comfort in laughing about how he would point out an animal by telling us the sound it would make before what it was.  "Awww, look there girls!  It's a moo-cow!" Or how he would always order us double what we wanted from Arby's because his philosophy was the more the better.  I loved that!  And when my Grandma passed my husband and I chuckled about how she would threaten to "peench" him if he touched her hair since it had to last another few days.  Ahhh, my husband loved pretending that he was going to ruffle her hair up.  Anyway, my point is that if we let sorrow swallow us then what kind of life is left for us to live?  Hey, maybe it's just our coping mechanism but whatever, it works for us and it helps us heal in most any situation...even finding out that you've been diagnosed with something as scary as bipolar disorder.  Some of the more humorous (and scary at the time) moments of our lives riddled with her disorder was when she'd show up at my house at two in the morning - I had no idea that I was indeed ready for a cup of coffee.  She was right, it tastes best when it's not needed to function for the day. I kinda miss the days when we'd go shopping when she was manic...my closet seems to be missing a few items. And I'm super sorry that the new medication took away her desire to show me new dance moves...MC Hammer had nothing on my sister! I still don't understand why she started crying when I attempted that last dance move she tried to teach me called the Roger Rabbit.  Wait, I think she would have cried even if she weren't chemically imbalanced.  My favorite game to play were the times when her medication would wear off and she'd repeat herself well over four times during a conversation - I'd change my response each time!  'Course she sometimes messed with me and repeated herself on purpose just to turn the game around on me...nice one Sister!

 

Jennifer, I'm so proud of you and I love you very much.  Don't ever stop taking your medication because life wouldn't be the same without you in it.

 

 

Bipolar disorder is nothing to laugh at but the person who has it is.  Own your issues and try as hard as you can to take control of your actions.  And don't forget to laugh at yourself as much as possible!

 

PS. I may or may not have agreed with your point last night Jenn...we'll figure that out depending on how you feel in the morning.

 

My daughter adores her Aunt Jennifer...we all do!

The Next Round of Trophies Are On Me!

Admittedly I'm a very competitive person and the other two members that share the same address as me also share that same description.  I don't know if I've always been competitive but I do know that I've always wanted to win.  There's a difference by the way...and it's something that I've learned over the years.  For one thing, most everyone wants to win but not everyone wants to have to fight for that very win that they yearn for.  I think that comes with age for most people; at a very young age you just want to have fun and if you happen to accidentally kick the ball into the goal and get the only point of the day the win just kind of falls into your teams lap.  All you know is that you are wearing the same color t-shirt as fifteen other four year-olds and that a butterfly just fluttered by your cute little head and the ball bumped into your foot...the next thing you know your parents are telling you how awesome you did and that you're a natural at blah-blah sport.  Somewhere between the age of four and ten...or maybe never, you either settle into the roll of the "I'm just here for fun", or "I'm just here because my parents want me in some kind of sport" kid or you decide you want to get better and better with every year or season that passes.  That's not to say that the competitive kid will be any better than the ones that just "have" to play but it certainly gives them a leg up when it comes to game time.  And we all know that no matter how driven your child is they will want to skip a practice every now and then.  I actually prefer the competitive type child...which is good since mine is and people frown upon trading children for some reason.  "I'll give you two of my readers for one of your lacrosse players and I'll kick in a cat.  Whada ya say?  We got ourselves a deal?"  I don't dislike the non-competitive child either...they have their place in circle of life too.

The thing that bothers me the most is the idea that every child, effort given or not, should be given some type of trophy after each season they play.  I wish I could remember if that's the way it was for me when I was a kid but I don't think that it was.  I do remember when my daughter asked me, not even halfway through a soccer season when she was about 6, when they'd be getting their trophies and it actually made me angry.  We explained to her about how she may be getting one because the team was but that she shouldn't ever just expect it.  I changed a lot of things that year starting with not always letting her go first when we played games at home and never just letting her win.  What happened to earning that trophy?  Why are we so scared to let our kids learn the value in working hard and earning that medal?  It never ceased to amaze me that there would be kids I hadn't seen all season on my daughters team show up at the awards "ceremony" just to collect something that they didn't even care one bit about.  But here's the thing, it's not the kids issue - it's the parent's!  I'm pretty sure some kids went home and stared really hard at the shiny dude kicking a ball and wondering if this was some kind of sick joke...why would they get a toy that just stood on a piece of faux marble?  I even tried reasoning with myself by thinking that maybe the trophies for the first couple of years was for bribing the kids to want to play a sport and then at age seven or so children would have to really put forth some kind of effort to get one.  But they would have fallen in love with that particular sport and want to keep playing it.  Sadly that's not how it works with this generation; if you don't put them in the type of organization that doesn't just hand out awards like candy they will get them forever.  I've heard arguments for years about how each child needs to feel this and that and by giving them a trophy they all feel like they won and other nonsense in that same line of thinking.  Well, that's just a load of crap.  Parents are not only softening our children to the point where they won't try for anything, they are taking away a kids ability to cope with disappointment.  More importantly those same parents are taking away any opportunity for their child to feel bliss when they do work hard and accomplish something!  You're robbing your child of so much just to make yourself feel better.  What happens when middle school and high school come around and not everyone can just pay a fee to get on that team?  Do you pick your weeping child off the ground and tell them that the school is blind or crazy for not picking them?  Wait, those parents that have shielded their children that long probably do.  I know of some parents that make nasty phone calls to coaches and schools demanding their little cherub should not have gotten cut.  Hey, there's nothing wrong with trying to find out how your offspring can better themselves for the next tryout session but other than that...I guess you can either tell them the truth or keep on over-protecting them.  You are only hurting them and, in the long run, yourself.  "Why won't Johnny go get a job?  Why are we still supporting him?"  Gee, I wonder - DUH!

If we're going to hand out awards for just buying a uniform then why don't we do it for everything?  Little Amanda went to school today?  Well, give that girl a medal!  Oh, Junior looked both ways before crossing the street?  Heck yeah, give that boy a medal too!!  We want them to feel good don't we?  And hey, school and surviving a street crossing are more important than sports right?  Anyway, I'm not saying that each individual family shouldn't praise their son or daughter if they performed well - you should do that!  But you absolutely know if your kid isn't giving their all and it's your job to say something to them.  I'll admit that I've actually had to calm myself down before verbally bashing my daughter for not playing her best because I find it important that she does.  I believe that if she makes a commitment like being part of a team then she's promised to give 100%.  Besides, if I'm going to get her to practices and games then I'd better see a reason that I'm driving here, there and everywhere, damn it!  I'll also admit that it embarrasses the you-know-what out of me when she gives a half-ass effort and others are watching.  I'm not saying she has to be the best...but she does have to give that.  If she doesn't...she'll know how her parents feel about it right about the time her car door closes and we're NOT heading to Bojangles anymore.  Even if she gets a trophy she'll know if she deserved it or not. Besides, nothing is more heart-warming than watching your son or daughter give it everything they've got and earn that hard-won medal.

I'm not going to harp on this next point but I did want to mention one more thing.  I heard on the radio not that long ago a woman saying that most competitive children were also bullies.  I would like to say to that woman many, many things but mainly that I'm really, really sorry her kid didn't live up to her dreams of them excelling in some type of sport.  Being on any team with a good leader or coach is one of the best ways to teach a child to be a team player and good sportsmanship during a game as well as outside of it.

It's never too late to teach our children the value of hard work and earning their rewards (unless they're twenty, then just give up on trying and know that they are forever living in your basement).  And remember, our little ones are not breakable figurines that we need to store in bubble wrap - they are resilient little sh...errr...things.

If I Were To Sweat The Small Stuff...

I love to read about stories or watch videos that depict huge events in others' lives like someone hearing for the first time because they finally received a cochlear implant or about some earthly saint donating a kidney to a complete stranger.  Doesn't it just warm the heart and bring a tear to your eye? It certainly makes you wonder if whatever problem you're "suffering" at the moment is really all that horrible.  That's called perspective people.  But it occurred to me the other day when I shared a post on Facebook from a friend that illustrated how something wondrous happened to another human being that was totally life-changing, that no matter what reminds me of how "good" I have it or my family has it, that if I were being completely honest and truthful with myself I would silently admit that I do still let the small stuff burrow its way underneath my thinning skin.  So I decided to make a list of the small stuff that I do, in fact...sweat.  This is completely and utterly self-serving, shallow, somewhat stupid and my favorite kind of thing to write about!  This list is in no particular order and is probably incomplete because as everyday passes by at a speed that tends to pick up pace the older I get, I tend to find new things to mentally shake my fist at.  I suggest enjoying a nice Chianti whilst passing judgement on me.

• Getting the goosebumps in the shower right after shaving my legs.
• Shaving my legs!
• Waking up starving because I shoved too much food in my face the day before...that's just not fair!
• Thinking that I'll look okay out in public without my makeup on...until I'm actually out in public without my makeup on!?!
• Seeing someone I know out in public when I don't wear my makeup.
• My inability to say "no" especially when others have the inability to say "yes"!
• That toothpaste makes everything I drink for the next half an hour taste like...well, crap.  Do I brush my teeth prior to coffee?  Will my toothpaste make my coffee taste like a peppermint infused morning drink?  I can tell you that no...no it does not.
• No matter how many pairs of shoes I have, I don't have the right color for at least one outfit I want to wear on any given week.
• That I look different in the mirror than I do in pictures; fluffy hair in the mirror...flat hair in a picture taken not even five minutes after my "hair check".
• That's it's darn near impossible to be lazy and social at the same time.
• When I do finally decide to get off my butt and socialize someone in my family gets sick and I can't.  Shout out to my girlfriend!  Sorry!
• That I feel like I look better in my pajamas than I do in "real" clothes.  (That might be in my head just to feel better about living in my pj's...you'd be amazed how the brain can trick you just to keep you happy)
• The word yeast used in any recipe...I'm sorry, that word has very negative connotations in my opinion.
• That I feel like my daughter only wants to help me cook when I just get the house cleaned. "Oh, you like the recipe that calls for flour?  Well...<sigh> yay.".
• Constantly hating that my dogs tail curls up to reveal...'nuff said.
• That every time I clean the counters until they are sparkly clean and I open the blinds to let the wonderful sunlight in...it's revealed that apparently I've only done a half-ass job. And what are those little shiny things that I see floating around in the sunny streams of light?  Little fairies with grudges and a massive army?
• When I clean the glass on the front window and my dog, whom I love, smudges me a kiss right at eye level.  ("guess that's why they call it window pain").
• Right when you make up your bed to military standards and your eight pound dog jumps in the middle of it because she thinks it's play time and then she looks at you like it's your fault when you're "busted" for not doin' your chores.
• When transporting your freshly washed garments from the washer to the dryer and at least three pieces escape your grasp and flutter to the floor and you know some of the lint from the dryer screen floated down there just moments before.
• When I've just gotten my car washed and the car in front of me has a warped sense of humor and decides it's all of a sudden unhappy with the bug sneeze on its windshield thus spitting dirty mist all over my WAS-spotless car.
• If you've decided for the first time ever, ever, ever that you're gonna miss your kid while they are at school and need to give them extra long lovin' in the mommy circle...pull over and breast feed later!  I've got crap to do!!
• The ignorant individuals that decide they need to give morality speeches via on-line platforms and not even realize that they have such horrid grammar that it takes a specialist to figure out that they were not agreeing with the post they commented on.  I weep for our future sometimes.

I want to remind you that this list is just day-to-day things that bother me and I could go on and on.  However, I'd like to expand on the last bullet point because I really feel it's necessary to write further about public grammar.  I would guess that more than half of the comments I read on Facebook under certain pages are full of nothing but poor grammar.  It really scares me because they actually think what they are writing makes some kind of sense and worse yet...a point!  And don't even bother to try and correct them because all of a sudden they can spell something like "Grammar Nazi"  and the like.  Boom, I understood that.  Better off just commenting "huh?" underneath as many times as it takes for them to rewrite different pieces until you have enough to figure out what the hell they were trying to say in the first place.  Think of it as an pre-owned puzzle that has a piece or two missing and somewhere on the box there's a "Caution" note stating that it's age appropriate for children under three - not that it's so important you should wait around to figure it out.  Talk about the anti-climactic! 

So, don't forget that everyone has problems and yours probably aren't the worst.  Have compassion for others and live like you may not know what's going in their lives...but heck, have fun with the small stuff - laughter is the best medicine.  We're human and we can't help but think of what's affecting us at the moment.  Now, I must find some type of lotion that prevents ingrown hairs on my upper thighs between...holy moly!  I found these pads that help stop razor burn on my legs! 

Time to exfoliate...I wish you all a good night!!

Cyber-Bully...I Delete You!

Bullying is a scary topic to write about but after stewing on it and hearing about it on the local radio show the other day, I decided to throw caution to the wind and prepare for some of you to really hate what I have to say on the subject.  This is all my opinion and how I personally feel about the topic and if your child is going through some type of situation at school that is hurtful I am very sorry and I am almost certain you'll not appreciate some of my thoughts on this topic.  And to be clear, I feel that bullies do, in fact, exist.  But in my humble opinion there is only one type of bully - the "real" bullies intend to inflict physical harm on others and usually target those that they can over-power easily and it's usually on a daily basis.  That includes intimidation to the point that one feels unsafe and scared for their physical well-being or their lives.  This can only happen face to face.  I do NOT believe in cyber-bullies or the "verbal"-bully (again, that excludes threats of pain or death...I won't keep clarifying that throughout this post).  Yes, one can be threatened online but if that happens more than once and you didn't report it then that is your shortcoming.  I am going to try my best to state my case about why there's no such thing as a cyber-bully.  I wrote some of this earlier in a response to a post on Facebook but I have added some thoughts and wanted to write a lot more and Facebook is not the platform to write every single thing you want to.  Social networking sites are like blogs with ADD - you have to say things quick...and that can be trouble if you need to explain something.  

I'm afraid that people are confusing teasing and name calling with bullying. Those two things whether face-to-face or via text messages and social networks is not bullying. It's stupid, ugly, mean and hurtful I know, but unless someone threatens your life then it's just something to be ignored. Now, if someone uses the Internet as a platform to threaten your life or your child's life...call the police!  Duh.  Use the hard proof that the psycho sent you or your child via online or phone. If you don't, you would be letting the idea of the cyber-bully manifest itself into reality by not taking immediate action.  It doesn't make them less liable for their threat, but it does put the burden on you to contact the proper authorities to have them dealt with immediately and correctly.  I said in my Facebook post that if this happened to your child don't even bother going to the other parents without talking to the authorities first - that's futile most of the time. For one, if that physical threat wasn't an empty one you've just allowed more time for your child to get injured.  Secondly, it's in most of our [parents] nature to believe that our children don't have an evil bone in their body. Most likely the parent you're confronting will feel it necessary to make an attempt at swaying you to believe that it was a joke or a prank or even taken out of context by the victim.  Even more probable is that the child that sent the threat will concoct a story about how your child did it first but they can't find the email, text or post.  Oh!  And the old saying that the apple doesn't fall far from the tree comes to mind.  Just to be clear, I do feel that the child that made the threat is indeed a bully but he or she is using what ever means necessary to bully their victim.  Once again, online physical threats should only happen once (my apologies for repeating that again, but it's an important point).  I guess what I'm sort of unsuccessfully trying to say is that sadly people say hurtful things all the time, but it escapes me how just because there's more ways to "reach out" to others these days that it's somehow more mentally damaging than it was when I was a teenager.  Depression caused from someone else's words is an indicator that there is more going on with the depressed child than some schmuck that has nothing better to do that throw out insults. 

On the topic of  cyber-things...if you are going to buy your child Smartphones, iStuff, laptops, etc then it's your responsibility to monitor what is being sent from your child to others, coming in, texted, Googled, etc EVERYDAY if necessary (okay, maybe everyday is a bit much...but at least every week). Check passwords and histories - that's your job as a parent. Sure, it's a pain in the butt to do that all the time but you signed up for that when you allowed your offspring to cart the Internet around in their pockets.  Text messages?  Well, they should never be deleted without your permission.  Will they try, yes; can you tell a text has been deleted?  Yes, yes you can.  Call your carrier.  Sometimes your children just don't want you to dislike one of their friends because of the language they used when texting your kid...so!  Language isn't the issue at some point - it's context.  Our rules in this house are simple and if you break them...well...you're sincerely going to hate life for a long, long while.  Here are ours (not to say ours are perfect but it works up in this joint):  you may not, under any circumstances change any passwords without discussing it with at least one parent first.  If you change your password and "forgot" to tell us you'll be punished.  By the way, for all of these rules I'm listing, how ticked-off we are directly effects how severe and how long that will be. Anyway, back to the list.  You may not delete any sent or received texts without asking; you may not delete your browser history (I may not be as hip and with the times as my youngin' but I have the patience to figure out several different ways to see where she's been); you may not create a social network account without my approval and that includes giving us your password, "friending" us, and answering any questions we may have on who you accept as a friend on that site.  These rules will stand until my child is paying for her own devices.  Her father and I purchase items and we LET her use them at our discretion.  That's up to and including her bedroom door.  So, go have fun and try not to screw it up!  But seriously, these rules are put in place for our child's safety and our peace of mind.  I've said in previous posts that whether or not you want to believe it, your child does not tell you everything little thing.  You should know if your child is being sent mean or inappropriate things...or sending them out.  Get a grip and realize that kids aren't perfect -no one is. And if your child is being a little sh...um...undesirable person, then DO something about it!  I do judge your parenting if you let your child continue to be a jerk.  I know I'm judged on my daughters behavior! Besides, I've seen what your child texted to my kid and you may be surprised as to what they are sending to others.  Here's a little tip - consider reminding your kids, good and bad alike, that when they text it, email it, post it, etc what they sent out is no longer in their control and they can never completely get rid of it.  I can promise you that there are many parents like me that see it.  Just sayin'.

My point to that huge diatribe about monitoring your child as much as possible is because it also clues you in to whether they may be getting hurt feelings (not bullied, these are just words on a screen) by what they are seeing or receiving from others.  And if your child can't go to school or becomes depressed because of what they get via text or see on places like Facebook then I'm quite sure they aren't mature enough to handle having access to these platforms. Even as adults we see posts on places like Facebook that kind of hurt our feelings but we aren't so torn out of the frame that we can't function or go to work.   Teach your child self-worth, self-respect and to respect others and don't assume other parents are doing the same. This is just life and you can only teach your child how to do the best they can so once they are on their own they can continue making well thought out choices. Know your child and know if they aren't mature enough to handle the Internet. They don't HAVE to have texting capabilities or a Facebook account. Truth.  I have a particular example in mind because it happened to someone that I've met a few times.  The mother [acquaintance] was so upset that her daughter could get "bullied" like she did and wanted punishments passed all around.  I truly wanted to feel sorry for this lady and her kid but in all honesty I secretly questioned her parenting abilities.  Her daughter decided to take a picture of herself for her boyfriend (need I say anything more than the only splash of color in the picture was her irises?  Not that he even knew she had eyes in that picture - she coulda had the head of a squirrel photo-shopped in there for all he knew) and text it to him.  Well, being that they were somewhere in their low-teens you can imagine how long the relationship would last.  Helllloooo, teens are fickle at best - hell, they don't even like the same foods from one day to the next.  So, as fate would have it they broke up.  Shocking, I know.  Does anyone want to guess what happened with the texted picture?  Anyone?  To complete my bewilderment of why this mom wasn't kicking her daughters well-formed behind everyday for at least a year, this is what said acquaintance let fall out of her lips last..."this was a private picture only for his eyes to see!  How could he show it to his team mates?  What is wrong with this boys parents?  They should be checking to make sure he's not  texting private matters to his friends?!  I think they should all be suspended! This is bullying and it should not be tolerated at home or school".  Say whaaaat?  As my acquaintance was spewing judgement all over the ex-boyfriends parents...she didn't realize she was describing herself.  See, the boy did whatever any red-blooded teenage boy would do - "y'all wanna see something cool?".  It's just like any magazine picture - once you take out the emotional relationship it's just a picture.  Down the line one parent was actually doing their due-diligence and found it on their sons phone as did one of his friends unhappy girlfriend...she had a lot to say about how she felt about that picture and how convenient that Facebook allowed her to reach the masses. Do not confuse catty teenage bitchiness with bullying.  As a forty year old woman I would, had I less tact, want to do the same to the girl that got naked on camera...I'm just old enough to know better.

Make no mistake, this post is only about the cyber-bullies and I am well aware of the distinct differences between the many forms of bullies and bullish behavior that should be addressed. If you don't know whether or not your child is being bullied no matter the platform, use your common sense, talk to your child and use your resources.  Words are just words and they don't define anyone.

And be careful how many battles you fight for your child as well - you may be stealing valuable tools from them for the future.

My Wine Had An Identity Crises!

For those of you who don't know me you wouldn't know that I once worked at a large wine distributor for nearly seven years.  We actually distributed wine, beer, liquor and some waters too.  We had two main divisions - the Wine Division and the Liquor Division.  I belonged to the Wine Division and neither division really associated with the other.  Both "sides" (which is what I'll be calling it from now on I'm sure) felt it was better than the other. Looking back and being a bit more objective now, it is clear that the liquor side had a more glamorous role than the wine side.  The job of any distributor is to order products from a supplier, mark it up and then place (sell) it in a store, restaurant, hotel, etc.  The list goes on and on; a distributor is a prime example of what it means when one says "middle man".  Both the states that I've lived in, after turning the legal drinking age, do not allow liquor to be sold out of anywhere but a restaurant or an actual liquor store (a.k.a. the ABC Store).  Wine, on the other hand, can be sold just about anywhere.  I'm surprised that ToysRUs doesn't have a special "Mommy Juice" aisle in all their locations by now.  "S'cuse me Sir, but can you point me in the direction of where you keep the new mommy help items?"  My shopping-list would be a nice split between games like "Baby Learn to Stick Shapes Into Holes", "Loud Rattle Thing" (better known as the toy that usually gets "lost" first), books to put your baby to sleep, and then I'd hit the vino aisle and grab my "Baby Cries Red Tears Zinfandel" and two bottles of  "Relax Mommy Riesling".  And if it was on sale I'd make sure to indulge in a bottle or two of  "You're Welcome I'm Pouring This Chardonnay"!

But, I digress; my point was to say that the Liquor side concentrated on restaurants - and the "nicer" the liquor was...well, the higher quality the establishment buying it was.  The Wine side got to frequent nice eateries too but we had two divisions inside the Wine Division and only one of them sold to restaurants and hotels.  Sometimes, but very rarely, a member of the Fine Wine Division would claw his way into the Liquor Division.  It was done in a way that very few people ever caught a glimpse of this happening and when you did it was like witnessing something floating into a black hole...never to be heard from again.  In my seven years there I only witnessed this once...almost twice, but that guy was almost completely enveloped  by the liquor side's proverbial brick fortress by the time I realized he was oozing his way out of the Fine Wines clan.  Well, I wasn't part of the Fine Wine Division either; there was a darker side that lurked in the basements of this distributor (lie, we had the downstairs corner offices and I was a manager and had a pretty good view to boot) called the Chain Store Division.  Three of us headed up this division and I was the lowest level manager of the three - imagine being like the red-headed step child of the family...I was like that kid's hairless cat.  Anyway, I would get yelled at by my manager and he got directions (screamed at) from his manager who had received word (demands) by the Great and Powerful Oz (or a Magic 8 Ball...I was never clear on that) that we need to place more new wines in the grocery stores "p-r-o-n-t-o!!"  After rolling my eyes in such a way that I'd get a little frightened that whoever was up in the glass towers of the Liquor Division would hear them like I shook the dice-cup in Yahtzee - I, in true management form, would tell my minions...errr, sales people to "hop to it" and go out and place that wine!  "The world is depending on that wine...get out there and save lives!"  Yeah, right...it was out of hand and it's getting worse!

If I were to be the type to place bets...wait...hahahaha!!  Let me start over.  I would bet that there are well over 350 brands of wine out there.  That is brands only; I'm not even talking about the types or the flavors inside each and every one of  those brands.  I'm not a huge math person so I'll leave the multiplying and such out of this but just to give you an idea of where that number is heading...I once put Sutter Home on a monthly promotion which is basically a temporary price change - I had to include all the "flavors" of their 750ml bottles and there were twelve. TWELVE!!  When I was leaving the wine business about ten years ago, the blending of wine types was becoming popular so I can't even imagine how many more just that one well known brand (crap wine though it is) has added to its menu.  It is mind boggling.  "Oh, you can't decide between a Merlot or Cabernet?  Well then, try this Cab/Merlot blend! What's that you say?  Oh, you like Merlot better than Cabernet?  No worries; let's head over to the Merlot/Cab aisle!".  I'm just waiting for the day someone mixes all the major flavors together and markets it with "Introducing Confused Vineyard's Dry Sweet Red White Oaky ZinChard with undertones of a college party gone wrong and a hint of rotten leftovers found in the office refrigerator!"  I wouldn't want to be the one passing out those little communion sized cups for local tastings that you see in some grocery stores!  "Taste of death, Sir?".

Maybe because I used to sell wine I tend to notice this more often than some, but when I go to the local grocery store I really don't see any rhyme or reason to wine placement.  I would think that I would at least have a good jump on understanding how they shelve each wine.  I'm not blind - I see the "flags" from around the world indicating what region you're currently shopping; no one, in my opinion, can tell where one country ends and the other begins.  Furthermore, the distributor may decide that some of, let's say France, should just be placed under other "flags" they use...which to me sounds a bit snooty (snooty?  snotty?) - "Can you help me Mr. Grocery Store Dude?  I'm trying to find Chateau St. Blah-Blah-Blah but I can't seem to find it under the France "flag"."  "Well, you idiot shopper did you look under Whites?"  Really?  The colors themselves aren't snooty; it's more like some wine snob is throwing the rest of us common wine-folk a bone or something.  I'd love to know what criteria they use to place some wines under just their  particular colors.  Also, is there so much wine being shoved into stores that they've been forced into just using Kool-aid descriptions now?  Again, I actually don't mind that at all other than it rings in my ears the same as when my daughter is telling me which juice flavor she wants in her lunch box that week. Really I just want them to pick one way and stick to it!  Heck, throw "Pink" in there too!!  I mean, come on...White Zinfandel deserves its own flavor-color; everyone knows that this sweet, pink wine has spent many, many years welcoming blossoming wine drinkers into the world of fermented grapes.  White Zinfandel is actually the gateway wine if you think about it...wait, no one still drinks that after a year or so do they?  One exception being that for some reason it's the only non-dry wine flavor served at most of those Applebees-type eateries.  So, in an effort to get some clarification I went to two new stores (with as little of a preconceived opinion as possible) to see if I could figure all this placement stuff out...no, no I couldn't.  I felt like switching over to beer just because regardless of its placement, the labels are big enough to read from a central location with little effort.  I hate beer though soooo that sucks.  I love watching people look for a particular wine though.  It strikes me as so funny to see the familiar wine stance - eyes squinched (with our without glasses), shoulders hunched over, spine curved over just a bit and one hand on your hip with your other finger pointing to each bottle like it's guiding your laser-beam eyesight.  When you're going over the section that you're so sure the wine you liked from a previous week was before, you'll scan over the same section of wines over and over like you're trying to find a particular misspelled word on a vocabulary test!  Here's a tip - when you get to the point that you're actually touching each wine label like it'll help your eyes settle on the hidden word better and hoping you don't get interrupted thus having to start your word-hunt over...you can be sure it's probably located in the other "flagged" area.  Actually, I saw three different "flag" categories at one store (the other just had a wall of random wines...and the two previously mentioned flags); the nicer of the two stores I went to had the region flag, a color flag, and then actual flavor flags.  For example, if you're looking for a nice Chianti you may find it under "Italian Wines", "Reds", or its true flavor group "Chiantis".  Oh, and don't forget to check the end-caps as well!  However, those are usually the lower-end wines that the store buys in bulk or a promotion is currently going on...or they've had them too long.  You're welcome!

I could go on and on about the wine business and how out of control it is.  I just can't seem to wrap my mind around how many more bottles any store can possibly cram onto one shelf!  I feel as though I'm playing a game of Jenga each time I maneuver a bottle out of its teeny-tiny home.  It can be rather unnerving.  It also makes me glad that I got out of that business!  I mean, it was expected of us to keep getting new wines approved by store buyers on a constant basis and very rarely did they say no.  But HOW?  How can they say yes to just about every single one??  Plus my sales peeps had to go make sure each wine we carried got the proper attention at each chain store.  'Course that just means they went to dust off the bottles and turn them so the labels showed well.  If you have to dust off your product every week wouldn't it tend to make one conclude that the ratio of said product to humans in the area was a bit miscalculated?  There was actually a fist fight that broke out on one occasion between our sales guy and one from a competing distributor because they both wanted to place the same flavor of wine at "eye level"...and it just had to be on that particular shelf!  Two grown men fighting over shelf space...how daft!!  And what is "eye level" anyway?  Well, it's an (un)educated guess of what height everyone is and placing wines at two to three inches below that measurement.  News flash wine-0h's - I'm 5'7" (average per Web-Md thank you) and your "eye level" has me doing the wine stance every time I shop for my Riesling...who did you measure to get your magic number?  A character in a J.R.R. Tolkien novel?

Well, everyone knows that girls tend to buy wine by how pretty the label on the bottle is anyway so...where's that "flag" I ask you?!

Cheers!

The Radio Killed My Bubblegum Song

I like a catchy new song as much as the next guy but, and this might just be me, I feel like I only have a short amount of time to enjoy it as the majority of local radio stations play it way too frequently once they air it for the first time.  Clearly there's some kind of incentive that the dj's are given to play a song umpteen-thousand times per day.  I've been thinking of writing (bitching) about this for a while now, so before I sat down to do so I really paid attention to how long, on average, it takes me to want to flip the station when a song that I once loved gets terribly old.  I didn't log times on a notepad or anything like that...I just kinda kept a mental note of how many months it had been from the song's birth to it's death (well, dead to me; kids can listen to a song a gazillion times and still love it for years which is mind boggling to me).  Oh, and I even asked one of the local radio station's co-host what their estimated threshold for an overplayed song is - she said one month which exactly what I was thinking.  An average number of months for a non-sticky-sweet song is about three.  Three months is just about right for a good song to last with the radio stations cramming it down my throat (well, ears but that's not how the saying goes).  But in all honesty the usual life expectancy for the cutesy-pop type song is a mere one month.  There are the occasional exceptions but they escape me at the moment.  And of course there are classic songs that will never die BUT those songs are the genre that usually don't get overplayed anyway or are so old now that I just can't remember ever getting tired of them.  My general definition of a cutesy-pop song is that it usually goes something like  "I'm adorable and you'll love me even though you're totally dating the head cheerleader".  These songs burn out quickly because they hope their cute factor overshadows the fact that it's been done over and over again by various other girls.  It works for a little while.  After making their debut it only takes about the previously stated one month period before my ears want to leap from my head and sacrifice themselves to my dog as chew toys if I can't get to the radio station changing buttons fast enough.  And for the record, I actually like many of these at first...at first.  I feel it will be helpful if I just list the course of events that lead each song to its untimely demise.  Please keep in mind that this list or timeline, if you will, is mainly for those sugary, bubblegum type songs with the majority being sung by girls that have only been in-love with a guy on a poster.  Here's a tip to upcoming girl singers that most likely educated themselves watching or being on the set of Teen Disney and the like:  If you've only been in love with a guy that rocks skinny jeans (or lives on your over post-erred bedroom wall) you have not, in the least, had even a small taste of true love.  I'm sorry, but it's an impossibility...and it's just weird - there should never be confusion of who's jeans are who's.  Period. SO...the timeline:

Week One!
Day 1:  I heard a really cute song on the radio...I wonder who that was singing...
Day 1:  Said to daughter:  "That's the song I was telling you about that I heard earlier!"
Day 1:  Got some of the lyrics down by mid-afternoon.
Day 1:  On my way home from work...almost have the whole song memorized. I still don't know who sings it - sounds like Demi?  Nah, more like Taylor...or is it Miley?  Oh, it's Bella!  

Note:  If it ends up being Taylor Swift it dies to me right then and there.  Truth, I can usually name her song in less than two seconds because she starts out the same in all of her songs.  Part of me feels bad about disliking her songs (and now even her voice) so much...but not bad enough not to want to rip my radio out of the car when I hear "Ooooo, wah oooo wah oooo waa-aahhh...".  Same goes for Justin Beiber!  I actually liked a song of his once and I was so sad about that.  It died quicker than most thank goodness.  I was questioning my mental stability and judgment!

Day 2:  This song is really infectious.  I can't believe I like a Miley Cyrus song!
Day 2:  Glad I'm in my car so I can belt out these lyrics as loud as I want.
Day 2:  This song is my jam people!
Day 2:  Wow, I can't believe my luck!  What is this, the third or fourth time I've heard this today?

Day 3:  Same as Day 2.

Day 4 through 15:  Same as Day's 2 and 3 except for the introduction and steadily increasing amount of an uneasy feeling that they might be playing this really cute song too much.

Day 16 through 20:  Fear is confirmed - the stations are most definitely playing the song too much.  I still like the song okay, but I'm gonna see what else is on the other channels.  At least if I can't find anything I can go back to the cute song that I once loved.  Nothing like having a good fallback song!  What in the...it's on the other station I count on too?!  I'm going back to the other one because it's definitely further along in the song than this.

Day 21 through 25:  Seriously?  This song again?  I wish I had satellite radio at my desk.  Whatever, I'm gonna go get a soda...and I'm taking the long way there.  How come this song comes on every single flippin' time that so-and-so is at my desk?! Gah!!  And Heaven help me if I'm in the shower and can't get to my bathroom radio to change the station!  I feel like it's a personal assault against me.  All I can do is roll my eyes and sigh over-dramatically.  If I "get trapped" more than once then said song won't even last the whole month of life it could have had.

Day 26 through 30:  I will drop everything to switch the channel!  Agitation sets in and if I'm not able to change the station fast enough it can ramp up to anger.  This song disgusts me!  How did this ever get recorded?  Who in the world would buy this song or even worse - the album?!  Why am I brushing my hair so violently?  

Day 31:  After one note of the song is identified I will stop at nothing to get to my radio and shut it down.  I then will have to talk my self out of setting fire to the offending device that spewed that garbage all over my ear drums. (I'm exaggerating a bit here...it helps convey my mood at this point.)  There is nothing worse than jumping out of a shower and doing the naked-sprint to the counter.  Not pretty!

Rot in H-E-Double Hockey sticks you stupid song!

I just don't understand why in the world any radio station would want to kill a song so quickly.  I've discussed this with several people and I'm not the only one that feels this way...maybe the only one that gets so agitated about this though.  <cough>  Yeah, I have issues, I know.  And how come it's mostly girl singers that annoy the crap out of me?  Oh, and of course Justin Beiber as well, but he still has a chance once he goes through puberty (so he's like 17 or something...he could be a late bloomer).  And just to make things fair and so you don't feel that I'm  just picking on people born in the late 90's (well, mostly I am), I also still lose my mind when I hear anything by Gloria Estefan and her stupid Miami Sound Machine, Celine Dion (ew!), Mariah Carey, and Sheryl Crow.  Those still assault my ears to this day because sadly shows like American Idol use them in their weekly song selections like they are their go-to favorite snack!

Well, there's not much else to say about my feelings on this and my little blog won't change an industry - but it sure felt good to get that out!  Now, I'll move on to how my mind reels when I try to guess how many more wine flavors distributors can possibly place into grocery stores...it's getting out of hand...and I like wine...I don't discriminate against any grape!

<scrolling credits here>

"We followed up with Barbara the next day since the writer of this blog was curious to know what happens if she were to ever hear the offending song even one more time...simply riveting!" 


Day 1 of the second month:  I realized that the iCloud application my family installed automatically downloaded the offending song to my iPad when I was playing a shuffle version of all the awesome songs I've collected.  I quickly vowed to ground my kid right as my head flew off my body.

When You Wish Upon A Wart

I don't know why I thought of this the other day, but for some reason it occurred to me that I have never heard my daughter say the words "I wish...".  I find that completely odd for some reason.  Maybe it's because when I was growing up I learned to wish on stars and four leaf clovers and it totally slipped my mind to teach her?  Maybe she just says it to herself?  Who knows...but unlike her, I wished for a lot of things and it wasn't just toys and things of that nature.  In fact, I'm pretty sure that I slipped into the "weird kid" level of wishing with how much of it I did everyday.  My kid still asks for things all the time and promises all the normal kid promises of how they'll never ask for anything again if I just "please, please say yes this time!".  That crap makes me seriously want to get her memory checked since apparently she can't remember yesterday!  So, you're telling me that you really don't remember just saying that less than twenty-four hours ago about the newest zombie video game that came out?  Really?  C'mon man! I specifically remember that one because I played it with her that same night and some creepy spitting zombie melted my face off...twice!  And when she does remember, after I produce proof (in the form of the perfected mommy-stare-down...you didn't think I was actually going to go get the receipt did you?!), I get this line of poo-poo - "I really mean it this time Mom!  Pinkie promise!!"   See, again...I heard that yesterday too!  And by the way, I don't always get her what she asks for. Saying yes and shelling out money whenever asked would be dumb and I'd lose all credibility and respect from her and for myself.  Plus, one can't rant about what one causes and not sound like a damn fool. 


I can actually remember begging my parents for things when we were at the store just like my kid does to me and yours does to you.  And don't even try telling me you have a child that doesn't beg for things...said child does not exist.  In fact, if you taped your kids arms to their sides and their mouths shut they'd still figure out a way to beg you!  I'm certain that my daughter could turn her eyes into little white pulsing puffy arrows while whimpering until coveted item is either purchased or the final high-pitched "NO!" was acknowledged.  Anyway, this is not about just wanting things - I was just letting you guys know that I think wishing for things goes beyond tangible items.  And I'm not talking about praying either!  We pray for the well-being of others and that sort of thing; I wish for things that I would love to see happen or go away (like that weird noise my house makes that reinforces my colorful imagination...okay, so I wish for the supernatural creepy thing to go away...whatever).


When I was a little girl, from what I can remember and have been told, I didn't really express my anger loudly.  I didn't scream and yell and make it known or advertise that I was majorly ticked off at my sister, school, or friend when something, in my opinion, went wrong or was done to me.  I would go up to my room and scream in my pillow and then just wish bad things on those that crossed me.  Evil, right?!  Well, no...it was, in fact, quite lame now that I look back at the things I wished on others.  For example, I wished things like horrible zits on girls that hurt my feelings or for some girls boobs to shrink until they were gone because I got teased for not having any yet.  I was athletic!  "Was" being the operative word there...wait, does using the Thigh Master count as being athletic?  Awesome.  I have a whole other post idea about sharing my list of exercises and what wines go best with each one of them...you're welcome in advance!  Oh, heck - I'll throw one out at ya now - the Ab Lounge accompanied by a lovely Pinot Grigio is a wonderful match.  Trust me.  Anyway, I spent WAY too many nights wishing a planters wart on the heal of one particular girl that will go unnamed.  I did learn that either I messed up and put my name in there once or it didn't cause her the same amount of heel pain as it did me...either way, it's apparent that I'm a bit magic.  I guess such powers need to be honed into a skill and not just wielded all willy-nilly-like...my mistake.  Still need proof that I have powers?  Well, I wished for years and years that I had straight hair and BOOM, thirty short years later...salons across the world bent to my will.  I am, if anything, a patient wisher.


Over the years I stopped wishing all the time or at least found a more healthy balance of time spent on making things happen myself with just a dash of wishing to complement my actions.  I also learned that I don't have to wish things on people that are rude to me anymore; I'm an administrative assistant and that means that you'll get what's coming to you at some point and may never realize it was me!  "What?  You're phone extension moved?  Jeepers Dude, I guess you'll just have to move to that office then.  Huh?  Oh yeah, that's a bummer it doesn't have windows too..."  Too much?  That was the most extreme case of me kicking wishes to the curb and taking action myself.  Usually if you're a jerk or insensitive I just ignore you now.  Okay, maybe I'd wish a little something bad too - a little BBQ sauce on your white shirt kind of wish.  I'm getting better and better about it; getting over wishing takes time!


I will continue to wish for the normal things that females tend to wish for on a constant basis like having a perfect hair day (everyday of course), hoping that fourth piece of pizza doesn't count since no one saw me eat it, that my anti-aging face goo actually worked, that the dimples on my butt  were confused about which cheeks to attach themselves to and relocated overnight...well, you get the picture.  Hmmm, it's now occurred to me that I might not have made the progress that I originally thought.  


I wish I could think of a closing to this post...and I really wish I didn't just decide not to delete that corny line.

Baby I Wasn't Born This Way

I personally believe that adults are a product of life's tests.  I'm not sure that "tests" is the right word but what I'm trying to say is that we are what we decided to do in countless situations over the years of our lives.  I was raised to believe that God gives you what you can handle.  That's not to say that one will handle it with complete grace or that we won't feel that we failed...but if you walk away from a hard situation and have learned something from it and hopefully become stronger then you have not failed and you will continue to fight that good fight that is life.  Not everyone believes in God and I'm not here to argue anyone's faith or non-faith because even if you don't believe in Him or stop believing in Him it's your choice to become a better person and pass those lessons on to others.  As parents it's our job to try to teach our children to make good and wise decisions and although we don't always see it when they are young, we have to have faith that the lessons we teach will reflect in the actions of our offspring when they go off on their own.  That's also not to say that even if you try your best to teach your children the right things to do that they won't chose another path.  Those are not your failures if you've sincerely done your best - everyone has free will and sometimes it's not what you hoped for your loved ones.  For me, I've tried to teach my daughter compassion and loyalty.  As I reflect on how I may have taught her to stand up for the small I can think of one major thing in my life growing up that made it the most important thing to me.  But she has made the decision to help others much more often than I ever did at her age and that makes me proud beyond what my words can convey.  She is not a perfect child or always the best behaved...she's a kid...and another of my beliefs is that all kids are lunatics.  I've already written about getting real about children and not thinking they are perfect the moment they spring from your womb.  Children by nature are self-preserving and will do what it takes to not get in trouble for their not-so-smart decision making.  It's what they do when they aren't pushing you to your patience limit that you see the wonder of how awesome your child can be.  When a parent comes up to me at a school function and tells me about my daughter sticking up for their kid then I know I'm at least doing something right.  I've even learned from my own child that maybe I could handle some situations better...and that amazes me to no end.

The reason for me that compassion is so important is because of my own "tests" growing up.  The biggest one for me was my scoliosis and how it effected me everyday.  If not for my own parents lifting me up during that time and my sister sticking up for me at school, I feel that I would be a totally different person today.  As much as I hated wearing that horrid contraption to straighten my spine all those years, I appreciate it now.  I am a better person for it and I knew when I had my own daughter that I wanted her to be that person that would stick up for me as my sister did at school and I wanted to be like my parents and teach her that we are all different in some way and that's okay.  I actually still have that back brace and have showed it to her several times to remind her...and me, that if we do our best and be our best then we will come out better people.  I've told...eh, probably preached to her that bullying is real and so horrible and that no matter what it's her job to help those on the receiving end.  She's asked me some of the names I was called and what happened and I told her but I also told her that I was given the tools to help myself because I had great friends and family showing me the way.  I have to give a shout out to one particular friend...I'll call her Jules.  She also taught me that being your own person (shaved head and all) is the best way to be.  I love telling my daughter that she can be "Jules" to other kids.  My twin sister did the same - I'm not sure how, but whenever I needed her she'd just materialize out of thin air and would be there for me.  I'm pretty sure I remember hearing a faint poof when she'd just show up like that.  And now I'm freaked out a bit.  Anyway, my time spent bundled up in a back brace taught me that you're not always just born different and some things happen over time and choices are made that aren't up to you and you must find your sense of self. Learn from what you've personally experienced and been through and use that to teach your little ones. I believe that every generation can be stronger and better than the one before if we tell our own stories to them and what it meant to us and more importantly - how it molded us.

Be a better person everyday.

Texting Etiquette - Class In Session!

You know, with all the ways one can get in touch with others these days I feel that the lack of common courtesy and patience has grown immensely in the human population.  Not to age myself, but I remember when email became the main way we communicated and hand written letters went the way of the dinosaur.  Maybe that's a bit of a dramatic statement as we still send cards for special occasions as well as the occasional letter to those that never grasped the concept of computers and their strange magics.  Even after email was running the communication show, I would make sure to sit down and write a letter to my Grandma Matthews because that's how she and I communicated and I truly believe that a computer would have just looked weird in her house.  I seriously just giggled thinking of her using a computer at all.  Anyway, when emailing started taking off and companies started relying on the internet to get quicker answers, changes done and information out to others, we were made to sit through an emailing etiquette class.  Yep, we had two mandatory classes we had to take - first we all had to take a sexual harassment class that went like this:  "Don't tell someone of the female persuasion that she smells good...tell her that her perfume seems nice or she'll sue the crap out of us"; second we had to take an emailing etiquette class.  At the time that brought on huge eye-rolls but now it seems that we need to reinstate that very class that I thought was so dumb all those years ago.  We were taught that if you send an email to someone or receive one, a response should not be expected in less than three days.  THREE DAYS!  That was like Superman fast and junk back then!!  If you did get an answer in faster than three days then that was a gift and not to become expected.  Over time the three day wait time dropped to two days, then one...then straight to finger-drumming impatience if it was more than a few hours.  How did that happen?!  I appreciate that emails allow us to "call" in sick or blast out information at one time to the whole office but it's also become a way of handing out a task and expecting people to be sitting at their desk waiting for that little notification to pop up to say you've got mail.  Sometimes I'm scared to even run to the potty if I'm in the middle of an email string with my managers!  Okay, so that might just be my shortcoming but still my point stands that we expect immediate action/reaction to an email.  And don't even get me started on the whole Facebook email system...you email me there and I may never see it (yet another part of FB that I hate).  "How come you didn't come to my wine party Barbara?  I sent you an invite on Facebook!"  Me:  "Huh?"  My confusion is because you finally emailed my regular email address that question and NOT through Facecrap!


Email is still huge of course and I happen to favor it over most other forms of communication except maybe the phone - but especially over texting.  I don't hate texting...I just hate how some people text.  I don't have a smart phone (they freak me out) and apparently they allow you to text faster than my stupid phone.  I have a tiny keyboard and all that jazz but for some reason I always tend to fall behind in the q&a that is currently being texted back and forth with whoever.  At some point I get an "LOL" when I'm supposed to get "oh no, I'm so sorry!" and then I say "??".  Then there's a weird pause in the text string and I know the other person is scrolling through everything trying to figure out if they type-laughed about me sneezing so hard my eye popped out.  Plus, my phone does something totally annoying when I'm trying to reply; if I'm texting you and you send one before I'm done (which happens...a lot) and I choose to read it instead of hitting some stupid button to save yours for later...my text goes into drafts!  I hate that to no end!!!  But, here's the rub, I want to read what you wrote before I'm done because what if it addresses the question I'm currently typing or what if it says "never mind...don't answer"?  <sigh>  I'm frustrated about texting right now and I'm not even holding my phone!


So, here's some things to keep in mind if you're some speed-texter or impatient freak that can't stand not to be answered the minute you hit send:


a.  Let the other person answer your dang question BEFORE sending them a whole new text unless the world is going to blow up if they answer your first question.  But just know that your "don't answer me" text might not stop them  and then everyone gets blown up or at least confused...or highly irritated if it happens a lot.


b.  Have a little flippin' patience!  I had someone text me a question when I was on the road and I didn't get back to them in less than thirty seconds.  I then proceeded to get at least four more from said psycho all in less than five minutes so I finally pulled into a parking lot and scream-typed "I'M DRIVING GIVE ME A DAMN MINUTE!".  And just to let them know how ticked I was...I didn't put a ;-) or "jk" beside it.  Thaaaat's right...I meant it!  The mostly one-sided text conversation went something like this:


12:11pm  Psycho-text-freak: u there?
12:11pm  Psycho-text-freak: hello?
12:12pm  Psycho-text-freak: c this is why i dont think u like me
12:12pm  Psycho-text-freak:  hello?
12:13pm  Psycho-text-freak:  ?
12:13pm  Psycho-text-freak:  ??
12:14pm  Me:  I'M DRIVING GIVE ME A DAMN MINUTE!
12:14pm  Psycho-text-freak: u shouldn't text n drive
12:14pm  Psycho-text-freak: oh
12:15pm  Psycho-text-freak: lmk when you can txt
12:16pm  Psycho-text-freak: did u get back yet
12:16pm  Psycho-text-freak: hello?


Did you know that there's no symbol on any phone that has a picture of someone shoving a phone...never mind.  Anywho...that is a for real text conversation.  Can you even believe that crap?!  I get hives just revisiting the memory!


c.  If it's so important that you need immediate answers...PICK UP THE PHONE.  Wait, you're actually using a phone to text...soooo...it's even easier than I was thinking!  I'm very afraid that there a people out there that will text 911 when they need help. 


Dummy:   pls snd amblnc to 222 davis st
911 Operator:  what is "snd"
Dummy:  im bleeding & need amblnc
911 Operator:  meant to ask what "amblnc" was too
Dummy:  hurting bad ambulance
911 Operator:  what did the ambulance do that was so bad?
Dummy:  im dying
911 Operator:  ikr?! I am very funny.  The name is Dave.  Yours?
911 Operator:  ?


d.  Auto correct wouldn't bother you so much if you'd slow down and actually read what you typed.  Plus that would give us slow-texters at least a little better shot at keeping up with the conversation.


e.  This is more of a tip - if you get just an emoticon and no words after you and the other person have been texting for a while...they are done.  Same can be said for "LOL" - that person has no more words for you unless they re-initiate more text.  Assume that LOL is a courtesy chuckle and a warm goodbye - 'cause it is.


There are several things you can assume if I don't get back to you via text.  They range from being in the potty, driving, sleeping (my favorite), eating dinner with the family, watching TV, not feeling like playing the texting game, and all the way to I'm ignoring you on purpose.  You can chose which one it might be but that's on you - not me.  Oh!  And just 'cause you're bored and wanting to text-chat does not by any means mean that I am bored as well.


Happy Texting!