This just really seems appropriate today since we are still getting snow storms here.
Thursday, April 29, 2010
My children were watching Mythbusters. My youngest (7) asked if Mythbusters was real. His brother said, "Heck yeah, they are real!" Spike replies, "Well then, I want to join their little club!"
You and every other male in the country little man.
You and every other male in the country little man.
Friday, April 16, 2010
Recently a friend from high school has been posting about our 10 year reunion which is in June. My husband asked me if I wanted to go and I had to think about it for a second. My first thought was no because when you envision your reunion you envision being able to share accomplishments. To show the friends who stood by you that they were right and the people who doubted you that you did better than they expected. I haven't done anything special, no world changing, no college. Then I thought some more. And realized that was crap. That was me allowing my low self-esteem to rule my thinking and allowing those who doubted I would do anything with my life to win. I have done amazing things. I married the man I adore when I was 18 and despite it all, including some 'friends' expectations, we are happier than ever. I gave birth to our first child when I was 19. Bug is 8 now and amazes me every day. She can be very grown up and helpful one minute and the next she is on her trampoline, soaking wet, and laughing like a loon. She loves to cuddle still. She has a ton of fun playing games with me. She thinks Russell on survivor is a jerk and that JT is dumb. She tells me how the girls on 16 and pregnant really should have waited until marriage. She has a giving soul and a heart to match. I helped to do that. I've taught myself HTML by the time I was 22 and have quite a few websites under my belt and being visited regularly. I have completed 2 books of at least 60,000 words each before my 25th birthday. At 26 I gave birth to my second child. Squeak is curiosity personified. She has to look at everything, to touch it, hear it, and even, to my dismay, taste it. She can climb like a monkey and nothing soothes her more than a Mommy hug. She loves to cuddle her Daddy and give her big sister kisses. She refuses to use a spoon because then she couldn't smear her food all over. She knows who she likes and who she doesn't and has no qualms letting the world know. She loves to be outside. She thinks sharing candy with me is super fun and refuses to sleep through the night. I helped create her too. I have a 9 year marriage under my belt. We have a home and a life and are secure in each other and our marriage. My girls are happy. I have friends who love me, who share my worries and make me laugh when I need to. I have family that never fails to surprise me. So in actuality I have accomplished and accumulated much in these 10 years post graduation. I have conquered and enjoyed life even in the rough spots. I have absolutely no regrets because every decision, good or bad, every person, either helpful or hindrance, has led me to this moment. This glorious, serene, beautiful, whirl that is my life. So eat that all you doubters, and friends.... thank you for always knowing that the girl I hid would one day make me into the wife and mother I have become!
Saturday, April 10, 2010
Tuesday, April 6, 2010
I am a huge reader of crime news and I watch Nancy Grace a lot more than I should. Part of it is really for research. I see a situation and I use it in a book. The biggest reason is just morbid curiosity. I read these stories and hope for better endings even when I know how bad they are. Our news is covered in violence. Violence for stupid reasons usually. The stories that hit me the hardest are the ones about violence against kids. Those of you who know me or who read my blogs know how passionate I am about children's rights and safety. All of you who read or listen or watch the news have heard the name Phoebe Prince. If not I'll fill you in. Phoebe was 15 years old and after repeated and horrible bullying she chose to take her own life in the stairwell outside of her apartment. Her suicide brought to light just how many kids took part in the systematic torture of this girl. Having been a very geeky and awkward teen I know how bad it can be. In junior high in Utah I can remember two girls in particular who loved to torment me. I was shoved down stairs. My house was egged. I had my locker torn apart and nasty things left in it. I had lovely notes about me scribbled in bathroom stalls. Even younger in Texas I was teased. I was the chunky girl who didn't shave her legs or wear a bra. (I was raised by a guy who was a bit behind on a girls needs.) I was teased relentlessly. Friends turned on me. I tried to cover by making myself more interesting. (Yes LYING) I still shudder at some of the things I would make up to try to not be that nerdy girl. Of course my "stories" always made things worse and when true tragedy was in my life no one believed me. It just seemed like another made up story. I lied about boys, I made up a mother who was missing from my life for all sorts of cool reasons, I created "cool" friends just to try to seem less stupid. Those early teen years flew until one day, like poor Phoebe, I tried to take my life. I didn't try hard that first time. I think I wanted someone to take me seriously. I wanted someone to see me. Really look at me and get me and love me despite the fact that at my core I was a book loving dreamer with the imagination to match wrapped in a plump body and without any girly knowledge. I tried a couple of times to kill myself, each time getting a little more daring then the last as things got worse and worse. Thankfully I met someone who did see me. He saw the stupidity and the beauty that was me and he loved me anyway. I wish Phoebe had found that someone. As a teen parents really don't count. We crave the love and closeness of a peer. We want that girlfriend we could talk to about anything and still be friends the next day or that guy who saw us and thought the sun rose and set with us. Phoebe did not find that and she took her life. Now the kids who bullied her are all up on charges and frankly I think that it is too little to late in so many ways. Yes the school responded to the acts that staff knew of with a firm hand. Good for them. BUT so many who are bullied tend to take it or try to fix it themselves. So many never tell and witnesses rarely say a word. Can you imagine if someone had said something; if students had reported the threats and degradation, if bystanders and made themselves heard on Phoebe's behalf? I wish more people would comment when they see someone being harassed and demeaned. The only way this epidemic will ever be dealt with is if we as communities stand up and refuse to take it. If you see someone being pushed around don't be afraid to call the police or whomever can fix it. Give these kids the voice they rarely have.
Thursday, April 1, 2010
In the news every day we here of a missing child, or a dead child, or an abandoned child. Our society is flooded with foster kids. It is common place for a grandparent, an uncle, a friend, or even a co-worker to be raising a child not their own. My question is when did children become so disposable? Oh, your child was born with a handicap? Pass him off to someone else. Your teenager 'to much to handle'? Foster care will take her. It makes my blood boil. When you CHOOSE to raise a child you make that child a promise by that very act. You promise unconditional love. You promise to be a support and a comfort NO MATTER WHAT. I don't care if money is tight because of your child's needs. I don't care if she needs more medical assistance than you like. I don't care if he is skipping school and fighting. I DON'T CARE!! Suck it up and take care of your child. Children are rarely easy. They have ups and downs, they have needs and wants and dreams that we as parents are obligated to fill because we promised. I know that there are problems and hardships in raising a child. I know that as individuals one child's struggle can be much harder than another. That's humanity people. Fight for your children, not with them. Give reasonable boundaries. Stop what you are doing for one moment and hold your child close no matter how old they are. Tell them you love them and show them. Make each moment be a chance to let them know that no matter what they can count on you.