Broken Bird

I remember words from a friend several years ago, ones that seem to stick with me when I see a relationship end.  Good or Bad ending, his words still come to mind.

He said once, “It seems I am always the one that finds the broken birds.  I spend time and care, I nurse them back to health, and they fly away.  It’s not fair.  I wish once, just once, I could get one that isn’t broken and will want to stay.” 
He’s right.  It isn’t fair.  And what is worse, is that he had the spirit, the personal nature that wanted to give that love and care to a person on a daily basis.  That’s why the broken birds were drawn to him.  He was able to meet their needs.  No matter how grateful, how loving, when they were healed they had the strong need to move on.  They no longer fit in that type of relationship.

Let me see if I can explain, since I was here once myself as this broken bird.

You think you have endured.  That after everything has gone wrong and you have righted it all, you are now on your two feet and stronger than before.  I thought I was.  I got rid of baggage that was LONG overdue, at least by a couple years.  It felt great and scary at the same time.  After a while of independence, I found myself nicely dating again.  I felt safe, protected, and I hadn’t felt that in so long that I snuggled in and got comfortable.  Well, great things began to happen in that sheltered existence.  Wounds I didn’t know I had started to heal.  I could look in the mirror and feel pretty.  I could smile and laugh at everything and nothing.  My thoughts had value, and were listened to with interest.  I didn’t fear confrontation and I learned how to discuss things without expecting an argument or fight.  I believed in myself, my actions, and my future.  The wound under his band-aid had healed, and I didn’t even know there was one.

I was pushing away.  I was feeling smothered.  I felt buried and I wanted to be free.  He was still kind, still giving, but it wasn’t what I needed anymore.  I needed to stretch out.  I felt bad that he would suffer, and I knew I would suffer as well.  I loved him, truly I did, and would never forget.  But it was the kind of love that bird has for a healer…it was gratitude, strong and loving gratitude.

He knew what was coming.  I was going to push against the restraints, but afraid to hurt him by actually breaking free.  I suffered, and so did he.  He set me down one day, explained this concept to me, and told me it was time to leave.  Suddenly the fear of being let go frightened me beyond belief.  I was going to have to make it without his safety, his protection, and I suddenly screamed for his continued security.

Like a band-aid being ripped off, it stung.  But given a while, I was glad to have it off.  It was still sore for a while, but the wound itself slowly faded. 

It wasn’t fair to him.  It was another person he had to push away for their own good.  Another person that didn’t come to him unbroken.  One he had to work on to make whole again, but one he couldn’t keep.  He spent countless hours of his time, energy and love, and had nothing to show for it.  He had to start over.  And it ISN’T fair. 

Each one of us that have a missing piece should take the time to fix it or fill it before moving toward other relationship.  I know, your question is ‘how do we know?’  Well, go figure.  If you just had a bunch of issues with a relationship you got out of, there are bound to be wounds.  There should be a mandatory 6 months or more wait and self reflecting before trying it all again.  I didn’t listen to a very wise man I shall call ‘father’ who stated that I would get in the same mess if I didn’t give it time.  Well, thank goodness I found this guy instead.  It is terrible to say, but he is typically known as

THE REBOUND

Terrible, just terrible.  Oh it hurts to even think of it that way.  There are so many that WANT to be the rebound.  Ones that PREY on the relationship wounded and weak.  Usually this is okay, because the Rebound still does the job of helping the person move on.  Sometimes they cause further issues, but they are usually easy to forget. 

Well, Rebounds that don’t INTEND to be the rebound find themselves in relationships after relationships that seem to end quietly without any bad feeling between either person.  No, they are not easily forgotten, but they are not remembered as they would like to be.  They want their own.  They want someone that is just for them, and over time, they grow wounds that need healing as well.

In the end, these Rebounds in fact, turn into the Broken Bird.

One Addiction for Another

When I decided to stop smoking, April 1 2012, I was a content and happy weight.  I was wearing the clothes I had boxed away for years, and was having fun shopping as well.
Then I stopped smoking.  Everyone warned me that I would gain weight, and I thought I watched it pretty well…at first.

Then anger, depression, anxiety all kicked in.  One, then the other then another.  It got to where I could not see which end was up most days and just wanted to make it through without snapping.

I can’t say I got bored.  I never really did.  Life got busy and harder.  I no longer took those breaks that I used to, and that is how I coped with life.  Now I was filling them with worry and anxious thoughts.  Food went in my mouth because it was supposed to, but it was whatever was around and quick.  I didn’t eat a lot, and sometimes I would go to bed with only picking at this or that daily.  I can guarantee it was never GOOD and HEALTHY food that went into my body those months. 
I gained weight.  Of course I did.  With all the stress I already had, becoming fat made things unbearable.   I won’t go into detail here, but I will say that I got help finally.  I finally got off that dangerous ride and was able to stop and think logically again.

For the first time in months, I looked down at the chicken nuggets I was eating.  McD’s.  I didn’t even want the nuggets, I wanted the Buffalo sauce!  Yes, that’s right.  I could dip chocolate in that stuff and would have been happy.  When I was normally taking a smoke break, I was thinking of that darn Buffalo sauce instead.  I would get the little kids meal and dip those nuggets over and over in big dripping dunks. 

My addiction to the cigarettes might have gone, but the addiction had been replaced by this Buffalo dipping sauce.  I had come to terms with it.  Once I did, that sauce suddenly tasted like melted plastic.  I even got a nugget that wasn’t fully cooked!  That was the last time I touched it.  The food at McD’s now tears my stomach up.  I have tested the theory twice, and that was enough to prove me right and not touch it again.  NO food from there at all.

Notice I said no FOOD.  My new addiction came shortly after.  The Chocolate Chip Frappe.  I tried one out of curiosity.  It was good.  A kick of coffee and a happy little surprise with each sip.  CHOCOLATE CHIPS!  Now how can any sane person resist?!  I craved them.  I would choose one of those frappe’s rather than have breakfast in the morning.  I excused it by calculating the calories.  If I didn’t eat breakfast, I could afford the calories in the shake.  I would even give myself a few more minutes in the morning so I would have time to go through the drive up.  So what excuse was there in the afternoon on the way home?  How about that my day was only half done and I was going to need something to keep me going?  That’s what I tell myself. 
Just because I am writing about it right now, doesn’t mean it is over.  Just because I acknowledge it, doesn’t mean the problem doesn’t still exist.  I have cut down.  Seriously cut down actually.  I have one every few days as a treat.  I think my last one was two days ago?  I can’t be sure.  But that’s how I know it is no longer an addiction.  I don’t NEED them.  I no longer crave them and make sure I have time and money to fill that craving.  Just like I used to with cigarettes.
I used to smoke after eating.  No problem after breakfast, or lunch, but after dinner was VERY hard for me.  Breakfast was quiet, all the kids were gone, so I could find other ways to cope.  (FB)  Lunch was at work, and that was usually whatever I could get in my mouth around people needing help.  I had to fight for my ten minute smoke break back in the day, so not getting one now was no longer an issue.  I didn’t have time, so I didn’t have a problem there either.  After dinner, when the kids are running around and having to be yelled at for not doing chores, that’s when I got in my freezer and grab chocolate.

A big bar of chocolate.  I buy them in bulk.  Not kidding.  They can sit in my freezer for months without being touched.  But they can all go in a week depending on how much is going on.  That chocolate bar is my after dinner cigarette.  Some days I can go without it, some days not.  Another addiction to replace the one I had.  I know it, I acknowledge it.  I try my best every day not to give in.  Do I stop buying them?  No.  I want them there, sitting in my freezer, like a security blanket.
So…Kudos to me for breaking the cig habit!  I am proud of that.  Being fat is the consequence to all the other health issues I could have instead. 
I am sure I will get life a little calmer, eventually.

I am sure I will break those little habits, eventually.

I am sure that one day I will no longer be replacing cigarettes with other addictions…

Eventually.

Teen Mom

Hey 15 year old, remember this time last year that your mom was yelling at you to wake up and get ready before you missed the bus?

Remember her making your breakfast while you were snotty acting and taking too much time to do your makeup? 

 Remember her telling you to do your best and that she knew you would have a great life if you applied yourself? 

All you could do was grumble about how school shouldn't start so early and how she pissed you off by waking you up before the sun. 

Well, how does it feel now to be where you are? Waking up every two hours because YOUR child is crying? 

 Being forced to watch your friends board the bus that not long ago you didn't want to ride, while you are standing at the window with your baby?

 And you look down at her, your way out of going to school, and you realize how much harder this cop out is. 

 And although you would never label her a mistake, you still know in your heart that you certainly made the wrong decision.

 And you whisper in her ear, where your own mother can't hear lest she be right, "You are going to BE something some day..."

Enjoy Spanking?

Just to be clear, right from the start, I AM an advocate for spanking a child.  Now, you already have your hackles up I am sure, so go ahead and be mad if you want and stop reading.  I got a few very well deserved whacks when I was a kid and THANK GOODNESS for that!  I can tell you, I was a wild and mouthy child, and had I not gotten put in my place when I stepped over bounds, I could very well be an evil woman right now.  We all have it in us, and each one of us needs to be lead in a way that keeps us on the straight and narrow.  I was the "she needs a spanking" type, and my older sis was a "she needs a talking to" type.  Our parents knew it, and they did their job right.  I am that kind of parent.  The rule in our house? 

"If you intentionally put yourself or someone else in danger, you deserve a spanking."  I can't think of any other instance where it is really needed in our home. 

Oh, there are plenty other times I WANT to give them out, trust me.  But I always have that 'stop and think' moment. 
1) Am I striking out because they made me angry?
2) Am I controlling my anger or allowing them to control it?
3) Does hitting them make me feel better or make them listen?
4) Is there compliance with this punishment or is there a better/calmer way to handle it?
5) If hitting because they made me angry is okay, why can't we do this to strangers?  (If you responded 'because my kids are mine', well, they aren't property)
6) Are they staring at you open mouthed, wide eyed, and with their hands up to protect themselves?  THEN SPANKING IS NOT OKAY.

If you have gone through the first three, more than likely you have calmed down and told them to get out of your sight.  They stomped up the stairs to their room and slammed their door.  In actuality they are relieved and wait for you to come up and talk while handing out a reasonable punishment they will be thankful to receive rather than what was coming. 

I had a nurse tell me that 'more discipline' for my autistic son (before diagnoses) would help greatly, and she made a swing motion with her hand.  Although I agree that a firmer hand is needed for him, he really doesn't care if you hit him.  Pain ends in minutes.  He will continue with what he was doing before he was hit, because he was not given a reason NOT to. 

So parents, you know your kids, you know your self.  You know if you are feeling a bit guilty reading this then you are one that needs to lengthen your fuse and find other ways to manage. 

As for that lady in the Walmart parking lot who hit her kid for falling behind on the walk to the door?  You should have taken his hand and walked with him in the beginning, rather than grab his hand to hold him still so you could hit him, then let go and expect him to keep up again.  You, ma'am, are an ass and obviously enjoy spanking.

Respectful Opinions from Children

We all know the parenting rule of showing your child respect so they learn it themselves. 

We have been shown that if we talk disrespectfully about someone or something with our child present, then they believe what you say and think and will use it themselves.  Their thoughts and actions will reflect on what you showed them. 

If you talk badly about another race, your child will believe badly about that race and may not hold their tongue about your opinions.  This will prevent friendships that could have helped them grow.  Your thoughts and opinions prevented opportunities in life that your child will truly regret.

If you talk disrespectfully about your ex spouse, and the child is there listening to such talk about the other parent, they will think and believe the same.  They will act out what you have shared in their behavior when they are with the other parent.  They may even say some of the same things you have said against their parent and creating turmoil where there shouldn't have been.

If you post on FaceBook with very strong opinions against the president, welfare, a business, or even a coworker and your child is on your friends list, you can be sure that they are reading your thoughts.  They might not have cared a moment before the post, but your strong opinions for or against caught their attention.  No need for them to do research and decide for themselves what they believe.  They now share your opinion.

My question is how do we teach our children to share their views and opinions respectfully?  First, we have to give them the space to have their own opinion.  When they come to us with brows down and a sharp tongue, we need to listen about why they are so angry.  Then we must require they think about it and find the other side of the coin.  We may want them to lean our way, to believe as we believe, but that isn't fair or right.

We must also watch not just what they say, but what they write as well.  We have to pay attention to the sites they are on and what information they are spreading.  We must remind them that it is best not to comment on a post where it could be one sided and someone's feelings could be hurt.

Most of all, we have to watch what WE say, we have to watch how WE act and we must watch what WE post on networking sites while our children are learning and growing.  SHOW them how to be respectful out in the world with their thoughts, voices, actions and written word.

It is your job to teach respectful opinions from your children.

Dents and Holes

 If you know my husband and I, then you know we have an entire shelf on our bookcase dedicated to all sorts of self help books, life inspiration books, and teen trouble shooting books.  No single book has had the miracle answers, but many of them had some great ideas that we tried out.  Some worked and others didn't.

My husband and I read this book by Gary Chapman called the 5 Love Languages. Interesting.  Well, to be honest, it was slow in many places and the only reason we didn't skim read is because we thought that one important fact would be skipped over.  So like being forced to eat our peas at dinner and eating them one at a time, we forced our way to the 'test's' in the back.  That's the fun part! 

What did we find out?  We found out that my husband needs Words of Affirmation to feel loved and I needed Action.  I was doing for him what needed to be done for me.  I was making his coffee, picking up uniforms from the cleaners when he asked, and making sure he had a dinner he enjoyed and the things were done around the house to his standard.  I was grew more and more resentful as the years went by because he didn't notice a thing!!!

He was telling me he loved me when he came home and before he left for work.  He was saying he appreciated having his things were he could find them or that I could find what he asked for.  He was saying he was glad that I took care of the kids and their activities the way I did because he didn't have the patience.  He told me that the dogs do well listening to me above all others.  But I would nod and move on.  It was just a bunch of words. 

Well, I showed him affection the way I wanted it back.  I wanted action, not words.  I wanted to be SHOWN, not told.  He showed me affection the way he needed it back, in affirming words.  He wanted it confirmed that he was doing things right, and I rarely responded in a way that made him feel I had noticed he spoke.

Reading that book, we had that "Ah ha!" moment.  Since then (this past Thursday night) we have worked on forcing ourselves to change how we give our love to the other.  In a way the other person recognized and needed. 

He decided to 'show' me he loved me by taking on the morning chores of shopping and bill paying.  He never really complained, he laughed most of the frustration off, even though it took him several hours to finish up. 

I 'told' him how much I appreciated him taking over a difficult task for me, especially on payday, and was very pleased that he had paid less for the groceries than the bill normally is.  I affirmed that I was grateful for his patience in chaos, and that the family had their needs met because of his help.

He 'showed' me he loved me by picking up a child from practice, even though I was the same distance away and normally did the task. 

I 'told' him how grateful I was to be able to go right home and stay there after work instead of leaving the house again. 

He smiled more, so did I.  We figured out that this book is worth reading if you are at one of those bumps in marriage that you hear others talk about and think you are going to miss out on because you are just that in love.  No marriage is perfect.  It takes work.  I am thankful that my husband (who hates reading) actually did this with me and took the tools he learned to fix some things.  It's new, it might not last forever, or it may be sporadic, but we have the tools.

Have you thought about finding some tools to patch up some dents and holes in your marriage?  Or do you have one that is 'just that good' and think you don't need it?  Well, if you change your mind, I recommend this book.  Seriously.
Just like when your mama says eat your vegetables, they are good for you, please push yourself past the slow parts and you will benefit by getting the full information.  It's worth it.

It sure enlightened us:
http://books.usatoday.com/book/gary-chapman-the-5-love-languages/l17345

Be Content

I have a question, one that I have asked many times over in the last three years.  "If no one was there to brag about what they had or where they have gone or what they have done...would you then be content with your own accomplishments?"

So many times my family members have looked at a car or house or clothing or electronics of another person and gotten upset that they don't have those objects, nor the means to get them.  When talking to them, I want to know for myself if I do the same thing...and I do. 

I am a simple person.  My husband doesn't need to buy me diamonds, because he knows I won't wear them for fear of losing them.  He no longer buys me clothes because he knows my preference would be Walmart or Target to save money.  I would rather fix something I already own than to dump it and buy something new, and I will wear the heck out of it before I give up on it.  (My last van I was emotionally attached to)

My husband see's the grand houses that people his rank own.  He wonders why after so many years int he service, does he not have something similar to show for it.  He see's the huge powerful trucks and looks with disgust at his little gray car.

What do I see when I look at the same thing?  I want a house where I plan to settle for good, not just any house in any state the military drags us.  I don't want a huge house for a small family, especially since they will be moving out.  I didn't have my own room and they don't either.  A big house turns cold without people in it, and the electric bill doesn't help to warm your heart as your family leaves.  I want my little house on a spot where I can see the woods and ocean at the same time.  I will be patient until then. 

As for the huge trucks, the show pieces, the gas guzzlers?  There is no reason to own one other than to brag and be vain.  For a person that goes mudding, a crappy truck worth destroying is best.  For the person that goes 4 wheeling or car crushing in shows?  A crap truck worth destroying (but looks good with a fake exterior) is also what is used.  So who uses the big lifted trucks?  Well, men with money that want bragging rights.  That's it.  A vanity item that shows status.  Well, my husband has six kids, a loyal wife, and two dogs that meet him at the door.  I would hope he sees the value of this over a show piece.

I have friends that have gone from one state to another in one weekend on shopping sprees.  Yes, I was envious, they make the same amount of money as I do, how in the world did they manage the gas money?  Well, a little plastic card works wonders for that freedom.  I don't have one.  I have never applied to the many many offers in the mail.  I knew from working at a protection company that it was a sure way into debt.  I choose not to go that route.  If that means no weekend runs to other states with a car full of clothes that will get lost in my closet after a few wears then so be it.  I have peace of mind, and that is harder to come by and has higher value to me.

So, if these people weren't standing in front of you, if you could just shut it all out and look at just yourself, would you be satisfied?  Would you be content with who you are, what you have, and where you are going in life?  If not, make some changes.  I am.  But they are all about me, not the outside world or all the glimmering lives that others lead.  It's my quest to Be Content with just being me and living my life. 

"You were born with all the gifts and qualities that you will need to be successful in this life."

Photo and Blog

© 2012 Jennifer Rath

I Choose...

~I choose to wake up every morning with enough time to relax before starting my day.

OR

~I choose to hit the snooze button if that extra nine minutes will do me some good.

~I choose to have a good breakfast in the morning with all the right vitamins to give me energy through the day.

OR

~I choose to have that cup of coffee and Pop tart while I browse the networking sites.

~I choose to stick to a strict schedule so that my children are prepared and healthy both emotionally and physically.

OR

~I choose to give them pizza for dinner, give them a goody at the store, and pop them in bed with me after staying up an hour too late.

~I choose to get my butt out on the treadmill for at least 30 minutes a day and fight the bulge age brings with it.

OR

~I choose to enjoy that piece of birthday cake without counting the calories in every bite.

~I choose to wake up in a good mood and share that mood with others as the day goes by with a smile for everyone I come in contact with.

OR

~I choose to keep to myself, letting my furrowed brow be a deterrent to any unsuspecting conversationalists.

~I choose to be pleasant, to hold my tongue and my opinions for the sake of argument.

OR

~I choose to let loose with screams and rage until the heaviness in my chest has lifted.

~I choose to be understanding, meek and mild, totally forgiving when I have been forgotten or mistreated.

OR

~I choose to stand tall, to move forward, to do what I love and fill MY time with ME without any excuses or explanations.

Every day I get that choice what to do with my body, mind, heart, soul and life.  It is mine, and I can share it how I please, or keep it to myself as well.

I control ME and no one else.

MY life is MY choice.  

Why show the Worst?

I have had the chance to watch TV both last night and this morning. Watching Television is not something I do. I listen to it, yes, while I am wandering around the house DOING things. My husband has control of the remote, which I gladly gave. Most times, if I actually sit with the family to watch, I usually fall asleep on the hubby's lap.
I decided last night that I was going to start my vacation early, which meant sitting on the couch with control of the remote. Bad, baaaaad move. I did NOT like what I found.

Why is it that we, a nation with so many prejudices, find it entertaining to watch shows that create MORE prejudice by how people are portrayed?

*First there was Jersey Shore. This random group of crazy kids/young adults, get picked to do a show by how nuts they can be, claiming they are the true portrayal of the Jersey Shore. Makes me NOT want to go there.
*Then there was Buckwild. We have images of hick, and these kids decide to match what we imagine Huck Fin and Tom Sawyer to be. They scream, they fight, they play in mud, drive dirty trucks, and generally talk so slurred you can't understand what they say. And they claim their "Holler" (place they live) is the norm in West Virginia. More teens/young adults, acting a fool, and keeping people from visiting their state.
*Oh, we can't forget Washington Heights, can we? It hasn't premiered yet, but just the commercials make me cringe. A bunch of teens/young adults again, all with issues. This group happens to be mixed between preppy and gangsta, both in clothing and attitude. Now we will have it set in our minds that THIS behavior is the 'norm' in Washington Heights and won't want to visit there either.

I know what you are thinking, if we did a show about the normal life of normal people, we would be SUPER bored. Probably. I guess we all need a little Honey Boo Boo to make ourselves feel a little better about who we are. I only needed to see THAT once.
So why show the Worst in people? Because the Best doesn't get you the ratings. I guess I will have a little less false advertizing in my home and get my kids out there to make their own judgments.
I don't want to promote this stuff, but just in case you want to look for yourself to see what I am talking about without doing a lot of research, here are the links: (copy paste, I don't want them linked to my page so I didn't activate the links, lol)

http://watching-tv.ew.com/2013/01/03/buckwild-review-mtv/

http://www.mtv.com/news/articles/1699645/jersey-shore-buckwild-advice.jhtml

Joey vs. Spock

Joseph is my son, seven years old, and has Asperger’s. This means he has a whole new way of looking at things that I have never seen before, and I get to share in his adventures. I often write down and share “Things Joey Says” because it makes you say hmmmmmm. Joey is a logical thinker. Things must make sense in his life for him to understand or follow through with what you have asked of him. If it doesn’t, he will pause and fairly let you explain, but just once. This is your ONE and ONLY chance to get him to comply. Example: “Joey, drink your Hot Chocolate before it gets cold” “It’s too hot and will burn my lips” “Well, its Warm Chocolate then, and just fine to drink. It is not called Cold Chocolate because THAT is actually Chocolate MILK.” (Here is a Hmmmmm moment for him. This seems logical. But do I really have him?) He picks up the glass and looks in it. “It still feels like it is going to burn my lips though…” he questions me. “Then do the cool down secret.” “Secret?” (I think I might have him. No one can resist a secret!) “Yes. As you tip the cup, and the liquid is coming toward you, sip IN with equal parts air and (careful here) Warm Chocolate. The air cools the Warm Chocolate down BEFORE it passes your lips. And THAT my friend, is why adults like to SIP their coffee. NOW you know the secret.” He smiles, he tips, he sips, SCORE!!! Logic wins. Now imagine his bed time stories…they must come from a book. It’s true then, the ones that he can see in the pages. The ones he can read the words himself if he wanted to, that is ‘true’ to him and he believes it without any questions. Now, if you tried to look to the ceiling and make something up on the spot, you will NEVER leave the room. He will question every aspect of your fairy tale until you want to shout THE END and go running with whatever amount of hair you have left. It’s best to grab a book. Last night he crawled in bed with his dad and I. (Not fun, and not our preferred method of rest, let me tell you) and asked for a story. Dad was sitting up doing some last minute things (on the ever present phone) and I was NOT willing to go grab a book. I wanted the fantasy on a whim like I had with my other (now teen) sons. I decided that with no book, and that Joey was just going to have to participate in this story telling himself. How can he question what HE tells US?! Attempt One: “Joey, pick five things you can see in the room, then tell me a story about it” “No thanks. You do it Dad.” All eyes on dad….no sound…a sigh…phone goes down….”Okay” Dad picks five things and the story is about 3 sentences long. This is NOT acceptable to Joseph as a bedtime story and demands a re-do, which his father refuses. Joey claims he can do better! (Well played Dad) He launches into a story about a wonderful breakfast (I guess he was hungry when he went to bed?) This means that the character must go across a lake in a boat, get out of the boat, tie the boat up, walk across the grass, go into the cabin, pull out the pan, put the egg in the pan, put spices on it (salt and pepper to be exact), cut the egg up, then eat it. The Perfect Breakfast! And the story was told with only the pictures in his head. (The words he picked were Person, House, Egg and Pan) There was no need for him to add the rest of the details, but to him, it has to make sense. A person doesn’t just show up somewhere, he has to take a trip to get there. You can’t just get out of a boat, you have to moor it and tie it, then walk to your destination. (Daddy put his phone aside once or twice to listen too) All I wanted to know was WHAT was in this PERFECT breakfast!? If I don’t give him a good reason to fall asleep, whatever we are doing right now is perfectly acceptable to continue. And what parent has EVER given their child an acceptable reason to fall asleep? I don’t think there is one. So my mommy desperation kicked in. Use the imagination God gave you, I demanded myself. “Joey, do you know why people in books and TV talk about Dream Land? Do you know why everyone calls it the same thing?” Pause. “Why?” “Because it is a Real Place that people go to all the time. Do you want to go?” “No it isn’t. That means go to sleep!” he laughs at me, thinking he caught me. But I have planned for this and have more up my sleeve. “Actually, it exists at the exact same time as the world you are in right now does. The big brothers are already there. They get to go there EVERY night and do what they want, even fly or breath under water.” To make it ‘Real’, I must add my own experience…”I don’t like flying very high up, because it’s scary to me, so I just stay close to the ground and go over cars or sometimes trees and things…” Add in the wispy voice, as if I am wishing to be there right now, doing the things I am talking about. “What else can you do there?” (I think I have him but let’s drive this sucker home!) “ I have done a lot. It depends on what you like. You can be super strong, and lots of other things. I want to go back right now. We are only sleeping in this world, and that is boring, so I get to go to Dream Land and play until it’s time to get up!” “How do you get there?!” (the logic is still there, even though the little boy wonder is in his voice) “It’s easy. You fall asleep. You make your eyes dark by closing them, and then you listen to the fan, because that is the noise in the tube between here and Dreamland.” I got no response, but I didn’t dare say anything else. I knew by how quiet he was being, by how still he was that his little logical brain was spinning with the possibilities but still fighting him on if this was real or not. “Dad, shut off your phone. My eyes need dark. I am trying to go to Dreamland!” Dad shut off the phone and lay down too. I think he was looking forward to Dreamland just as much as we were now. Sometimes, you CAN make the illogical completely logical. Insert triumphant smile here.

Marriology

There is some dispute on how “Happily Ever After” is supposed to work. Granted, I haven’t gotten too far into my “After” just yet, but I am lucky enough to be around parents and grandparents that have made it 40 and more years, even going into the great beyond together. I am probably not the best one to be writing this either, since I am on my second “After”, both getting as far as the 8th year… so feel free to correct me. I welcome the information for after the 10th year mark. If you disagree, then you are a little more perfect than the rest of us. Feel free to bask in the glow, and try not to think of when the other shoe will drop. J 1) If you get in the shower, always always bring in your own supplies. Never assume the towel you just draped there this morning will be there when you reach blindly out of the shower curtain. It won’t be. Your spouse has used it to wipe toothpaste off of his mouth, or to lay on the floor under his wet feet while he combs his hair and looks at this or that muscle. It is your job to provide the towels for him and THEN for yourself as well. (Honestly, who is going to fetch a towel when he bellows? He certainly doesn’t see the sense in getting out of a warm shower to breeze naked to the linen closet and freeze off his buns. But if YOU bellow, he ‘won’t hear you’ and you have to make the run just to be able to get OUT of the shower the same day.) 2) Speaking of that towel, it often wanders too. After you have frozen off your buns to fetch another towel, dried off, dressed and replaced it neatly for the hubby’s next use… you walk into your bedroom to find a nice wet towel draped on YOUR side of the bed. You now have two options: Sleep on his side of the bed that night or toss the towel on HIS side so he gets the same pleasure trying to sleep as you. J 3) IF your honey does chores, he will do that chore better than you. Not just better than you, but better than you ever dreamed and you have NO HOPE of ever doing it like he does. He will remind you of this as he does it oh-so-perfectly, and it is your job to praise him and confirm his proclamations. Your biggest mistake will be to argue his points or try to prove him wrong by actually DOING this chore yourself. Don’t do it. That is part of the game and YOU lose. The chore then becomes yours, and you will NOT get the praise for doing it as he received. You will also never be able to give it back or try to undo the damage. There are no takesies backsies. 4) If he is a mama’s boy, never EVER talk bad about his mom. Find a girlfriend to do this with. That little irritation you had because she commented on your cherry pie is just a little crack in the sidewalk when talking to your friends. It will turn into a hand grenade if you attempt to share your feelings with your spouse. If the MIL doesn’t like you, she will make sure you make this mistake often. I would advise that you not take them all to heart, work on going over those speed bumps and find out what it is that your hubby loves so much about her. If you choose to fight for his love against her, you will lose by how ever many years old your husband happens to be. Find a pillow to scream in then continue your quest to become the best daughter in law ever. How long can she resist your charms anyway? 5) Don’t comment on his clothing. He will remind you that you noticed him, dated him, married him in those clothes. He will be right. He doesn’t understand that styles change, or that you have a keen eye for what would look better on him to hide the faults he can’t see. Just buy the item you want to see on him. If it is a new item of clothing, you must hide his favorites ‘in the laundry’ first. Then when he grudgingly puts them on, you can moony eye him and dote on him to prove to him how good he looks. He MAY believe you, but there are ways to seal the deal that only a wife knows. He will look forward to putting on that item the next time. Do this the same way with shoes, hair styles, etc. Not sure if it works with a car yet… 6) Don’t nag. Please don’t. If you nag or yell more than once a day, you have slowly built filters in his ears. (and everyone else around you when you do this) There is a way to be heard when you need to be heard. Actually, there are several. (The towel on the bed trick is an example) Think strategically. Ask once with a smile, and get a response that is more than just him looking at you. After you get the response, give a kiss and walk away perfectly confident that you were heard and understood, and that what you asked will be done. It could be putting the tweezers away that sit on your shelf full of family photo’s. The next day, if they are still there, just put them away. J This will confuse him up more than anything. HE knows you asked HIM to put it away, but HE knows he did NOT put the item away, which mean it MUST be there somewhere and he is just overlooking it. His only choice will be for him to ask you for it, which you reply “you put it away yesterday, remember?”, or to continue looking for it just so he doesn’t have to admit to not doing as you so kindly asked. Either way, you continue about your business, only glancing at him once or twice without trying to burst out laughing. And when it comes to bigger things, the worst thing you can do is attempt to do what you asked of him YOURSELF. Flounder, be clumsy, try not to do much damage to yourself or the item but make it look like it will happen any moment. Make sure your theatrics are done where he can see. Moan, groan and say ‘uh-oh’ a lot. A man will want to ‘fix it’ and hopefully before it CAN’T be fixed! Pick your battles because if you do this too much he will surely catch on. 7) There IS a way to get your hubby to help with the school age kids and homework. Simply tell the kiddo’s to go see Daddy (within ear shot of Daddy) “since he is the BEST at this kind of work and if it wasn’t for him even I would be lost!” This means that Dad is now Superman in the child's eyes, and saying he doesn't have time shows weakness (his kids will think he is not really busy, just that he doesn't know the answers, and Dad CAN'T let that happen) So smile and drink your coffee while Daddy struggles through Math. (Or the dreaded science projects~shudder.) Okay, there are many (many many many) more ways to deal with things in a marriage, things you will run into, things you will have to struggle through in your Happily Ever After...but if you have fun with it and get creative it is entirely possible that you could be one that goes to the Great Beyond with your love at your side. I am still working on mine, but like I said before, I have great examples so this list will be updated as the years go by. Excuse me, I have to ask the husband about that front porch light getting replaced...

Shake My Head

While sitting in drive up at Arby’s in this little town and I ask for a #1 with curly fries and coke. Their reply: “Is that the sandwich or the meal?” “Uh, that would be a meal if I asked for the fries and drink right?” I said, trying to prompt thinking skills. “Yeah, but we are supposed to ask every time…” SMH ~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~ While standing at the counter in Subway, holding a bag of chips while they ring up my sandwich at the register. “Is that a meal?” they assume correctly, looking at the chips in my hand, “Yes, please” I reply. Their reply: “Is that with chips or a cookie?” SMH ~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~ At the gas station in same little town as above, “Why isn’t there decaf coffee being sold any longer?” They told me they only sold one cup in four hours so they dumped it, saying “Besides, the Hazelnut is loads better anyway”, she replies sarcastically. “So the Hazelnut is Decaf then?” I ask. “uh, no?” she glares. “So why bring it up if I asked you about Decaf coffee?” Dumb look to follow but no more rude comments. SMH ~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~ Feel Free to add your own SMH moments:

Debate of Experience

Should we use “Southern Protocol” and keep our feelings, personal thoughts, opinions, and life experience to ourselves for the sake of others? Man, what boring existence that would be, but that’s Just My Opinion. ~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~ I know there are song writers that use what personal things have happened to them to WRITE about it, then SING about it in a public forum. The person he/she is writing about knows it is about them, and I am sure they are not too happy to have their business out there. What about my favorite singer Pink? She used her songs to apologize, to fix her relationship, to show us that tough girls can be vulnerable too, that when you get knocked down you ARE strong enough to move forward. She uses HER experience to put her music out there, and to help others that hear it. ~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~ Tom Hanks is another interest of mine. He is a great actor (In My Opinion) that uses his experiences to create and produce movies, pieces of history that should not be forgotten, that features REAL people in REAL situations and how they got through it. I am sure some of the people in the production were looked at as the ‘bad guy’ in our eyes, and they (or their family) aren’t happy they were portrayed in that way. ~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~ What about Anne Frank? She wrote in her own private journal! She hid it! Someone found it, and someone made it public. Is her family upset? Are the people who are portrayed as ‘bad’ in her journal liking the fact that we made her thoughts, feelings, and experiences public? Is her family okay with this? This is real, it happened, and it brings back such pain and hurt of a terrible time in their lives. Yes, the family moved it forward to get the message out there. ~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~ Vincent Willem Van Gogh set the stage for Expressionism, a form of painting that expresses the artists inner feelings. He even did a self portrait with his ear bandaged after his self mutilation. Not only did he do this injury to himself to let go of his pain, knowing it could be seen, but he painted it to go down in history. He WANTED his story told. Do you think his parents and siblings wanted everyone to know of his mental instability? Do you think they wanted every9one to know he felt his childhood was “gloomy, cold and sterile”. His siblings didn’t mind sharing with people how oddly detached he was. The SERVANTS even had something to say about him as soon as his work became famous. He put himself out there to be judged. ~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~ Imagine what we would have lost out on if they had obeyed the “Southern Protocol”? ~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~ So why should we keep to ourselves, in fear of ‘maybe’ causing someone a little emotional pain just because they are affiliated with OUR life and what WE experienced in it? Isn’t our story worth telling? Can’t someone learn from it? Now, if you told the people with bruised feelings that it would be positive, that it would be uplifting, that they would be known for all the good they have done, then HECK YEAH they would let you tell YOUR story with them in the sidelines. Of Course. ~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~ My life has had difficulties, we all have, and I can honestly say there wasn’t anything in it that I could not rise above. I went down some dark paths, but I found a solution and I used my strengths and my resources (family) to get me OUT of that problem before it turned disastrous. I was lucky, I found those tools in myself, in the people I share my life with and the community. I feel strongly that someone, somewhere is looking for answers, that sits where I was at one point, and just needs that tiny window of hope or a word of advice from someone that has gone through it. ~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~ Regardless of pouty faces and thinly disguised disgust, the people that take offense are MOST LIKELY the ones that have called me at all hours of the night asking for help with something they KNOW I have gone through. He/She knows I won’t discuss their situation without their express permission, but I WILL discuss MY OWN, even if it involves them. It’s a risk of being in my life. I can’t think of anyone that I would be able to talk about right now that I haven’t learned something from. If you know me and my style of writing, you know the only one I bash on is myself, or someone that DARES me and gives me permission. ~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~ In this case, this discussion was brought up by two different gentlemen, and after much ‘debate’ I have limited contact in a personal forum. Obviously they are too hurt by what I feel and think about my own life to allow me to continue to cause them such pain. Yes, I am being sarcastic. It is my style after all. Will that put a Muffler on ME? No. But it will put their Blinders back on THEM, which is how they choose to live. But if that were true, they better stop watching TV, Reading, looking at Art, and stop listening to music. Only then will their feelings truly be protected. ~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~ Good luck with that fellows. ~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

"Well, even in that deep misery I felt my energy revive, and I said to myself: in spite of everything I shall rise again, I will take up my pencil, which I have forsaken in great discouragement, and I will go on with my drawing, and from that moment everything has seemed transformed in me." ~Van Gogh

Great Smile

I have been told I have a great smile, a genuine smile. A compliment like that is unexpected and actually makes me smile MORE. I feel my lips stretch until my teeth show, and my eye’s crinkle. I love to smile, I love to SHARE that smile, and get one in return. It isn’t hard to do, it doesn’t cost me a dime, and it makes both me AND them happy for a second. So why is it so hard to smile just for me? I used to smile at funny personal thoughts where people would ask me what I was thinking. I used to smile at my silly looks and poses in the mirror while getting ready for work. Heck, even a laugh would break out at those times. It doesn’t exist for me anymore. I don’t give myself the same love and attention that I used to, and that I give to other people, even strangers! So I have a new goal for myself. (Yeah, add it to all the other ones I have yet to complete) I am going to practice giving myself the same quick love, a SMILE, when I see myself. I am going to look hella-vain when people catch me doing this, say, in a vehicle window reflection. But I am DETERMINED to give myself the same love I am willing to send out to a stranger! Why not?! I should be just as deserving. I HOPE it’s something like me just being out of practice, and not some punishment I am unknowingly putting on myself. It feels that way sometimes. But since I scold and punish myself often enough, it’s time for some self love too. Let’s see if this makes a difference..

What You Know

(This is for the person that claims I have it easy, that I am sheltered and have just begun to experience how REAL life is…) A very wise person once told me, “Jen, write what you know.” The stories I wrote were things I imagined, ‘what-if’s’, and ‘I-wish’ type stories. They had good idea’s but no real substance. I thought they were GREAT as a kid, but as an adult I can read them and I know what is missing. Knowledge. I could not describe falling in love, or a kiss, or any of the struggles being married really entailed. The fear of having your life threatened, your child in danger? I know it now. A murder a few doors down, or SWAT running through your backyard, gunshots? I can write about it. Abuse, adultery and abandonment? Got it in detail. Family battling with deadly illness, personal illness, losing someone from deadly illness? I know how it feels. Miscarriage, unplanned pregnancy? Yup, been there. Homelessness, financial battles, going hungry? I only needed to experience that once, thank you. I also have a romantic love story of loss and rediscovery. I have the blessing of 3 sets of blue eyes and a set of green to fight for daily. I am blessed with a white knight, whom can still get on my nerves. I have a family that stands behind me like a brick wall warding off danger. I have had adventures in Georgia, Virginia, Wyoming, Canada, Missouri, Colorado, South Dakota and Alaska to name a few, and the memories alone are worth writing about. I am lucky in a way that I KNOW these things. I know that we all have our own path, our own battles to fight, and I have had mine. I am sure this is not the end of them either. I am supposed to learn. I am supposed to grow. And I think, I feel, I am supposed to write and share as well. So when someone tells you to write what you know, and you stand there confused and cannot grab a single thought… Don’t worry. You will one day have a story to tell. One that does not match any other. And I hope you write it down, and that you can find a way to share it too. (REAL life is not just what YOU experienced. It is different for everyone, and you may believe your struggles are harder, more often, and they may be. But it is your struggle, your decisions, your life. Your experiences are uniquely your own to learn from, as are mine. Thank you for understanding.)

DELETE!!!

I can’t be the only one, but it’s not like I am going to go up to someone and ask either. I am wondering though, do you have the same issue or is it just me? If it IS just me, how do I go about fixing it?! Here is my issue: I have a file box in my head, one that has a bunch of dust on it, very rarely used, and never ever looked for. It sits back in the corner nice and quiet until, very unexpectedly, it FLIES open and a file is yanked out and shoved in my face. I hear, see, and experience a memory all over again. I am THERE, I hear what is being said, and I get the SAME feelings I did then. Let me give you some examples: 1)As a teen I was sitting on my bed, playing my keyboard (had to learn a song by the end of the week) and since it was so beautiful, I could not help singing along. Bette Midler, The Rose. To this day I sing along and my fingers keep the melody in the air as it plays. BUT, yes, the big But…someone came in the room and announced, “oh, there is a reason you play the piano because singing is not your thing.” I was embarrassed, hurt, and I shut up immediately. I don’t sing out loud in public, and not where anyone can hear me at all, since that day. I LOVE Pink, LOVE her, but I only sing to her songs if I am alone or walking AWAY from anyone that can hear me (I hope!). I am very discrete when I want to yell it out and bounce around like she does…but then that file is pulled out and shoved in my face. 2) A teen again, just learning to put on make-up, early high school. I am hogging the bathroom downstairs trying to do my hair and makeup. Finishing touch, the lipstick. I am very careful to put it on like it was showed to me by a makeup artist at Merle Norman. (My mother gifted me with a date with a makeup artist so I would not put it on too heavy since I was determined to wear it) Someone came in the bathroom, laughed at me and told me I put on my lipstick like I was playing in my grandmothers makeup bag. Well, okay then, I don’t know what I am doing. Guess what? Eyes get done, checks are done, and no lips….EVER. There are times when I put it on, then the file SLAPS me in the face and I find all these mistakes and wipe it off. The tint might still be there, so I add chapstick. You can’t screw THAT up can you? 3)I was riding with someone in their care, and we stopped at a red light. A woman walked across the cross walk, bouncing, barely bending her knees, taking REALLY big steps. It was obvious she had something wrong with her, and I am sure the people that loved her were glad she was walking. The driver turned to me and said, “Jen, that’s how YOU walk. If you ever wanted to know what it looks like, that’s it.” So when I walk with my family (SMASH in the face with a file), I don’t try to keep up anymore, since they are all over six foot tall and large steps are required. If I am laughing and joking with my kids and think my steps are too bouncy, I tone it down. 4) I was married young, a young mom, and although tired I still tried my best to please the ex. This meant dressing up for when he got home even though I was tired and drooled on. One day he looked at me with disgust and asked why I bothered putting on makeup at all, when it just looked like I got punched in the eye rather than looking nice. I thought it was too dark, I tried to fix it, no good. I tried calm colors like barely there pink, no luck. Same comment, same disgusted look. Even though we are ancient history, I still get SMACKED with that file when I am in the bathroom mirror. My hand shakes, I second and third guess my color choices….and sometimes I just wipe it off and go without. Are they true? Some say no, but no one will dare say yes. What if they ARE true? How can I go outside with my punched eye, goofy lipstick, bouncy walk and terrible voice? How can I go out in public like that?! What happens if I accidently do more than one at a time? Will someone come pick me up and take me back to the mental ward? This is all stuff that happened 15-20 years ago. I have had plenty of life experience since then. Why isn’t my file drawer FILLED with negative crap that people passing by have said to and about me? Why are there only those few things? And WHY or WHY after so many years do those stupid files make their way out to hit me in the face at the worst of times? If I could face the same experience again I would handle my business. I would tell the person that said I could not sing, “I know I can’t but I enjoy it, so if it bothers you then leave or you can feel free to join me.” To the person that laughs about how I walk, “Well, I am proud of my family and being the smallest one in it, I learned to walk BESIDE them by taking bigger steps. THEY are what matters, and I will find a way to stay by their side, even if that means looking goofy doing so.” For the one who said I can’t put on lipstick, “I have learned to live without it, and also learned that my lips are NOT my best feature.” To the ex that makes fun of my eye make-up, “I know you said it to belittle me, to force me to stay in so no one could see me. I have gotten more compliments on my eyes than anything else. So although you may be right occasionally, you are more often than not, WRONG. You lost.” Now all I have to do is fine a way to destroy that file box and every stinking file IN it. Or, in today's world, DELETE them!

Cursed by Karma

I am looking in the mirror, picking and poking at things that weren’t there just a few short years ago. Grey hair, wrinkles, extra pounds…the list is pretty long. Then I remember someone I examined and ridiculed internally back when I was young and snotty. Back in the day when you think your JLo Booty is gonna stay up where it belongs, and not a bit of cellulite touches your thighs and you don’t even do exercise to keep them looking so great. Smirk, judge, and hair flip. Yup, that was me. Well, Karma is a bitch. It seems that every one of those people I mentally judged has come back to haunt me, ALL AT THE SAME TIME. Now you stop and think, if it really worked this way, (and I am not entirely sure it doesn’t at this point), what will you be suffering with, in a couple years? That lady at work that doesn’t seem to realize she has a mustache? “They make stuff FOR that!” you scoff. Congrats, it seems you now have your own mustache and use every product you can find to help, and seem surprised that they don’t work. The woman with the beautiful face and upper body, but you stare in shock at the thighs that swing forward each step? “Do some lunges and leg lifts girl! You could be a complete package!” Well, you now have saddle bags, and it doesn’t go down no matter HOW many miles you run or HOW many leg lifts you do. The giggle girl with a great smile who’s arms continue waving even after her hands have stopped? “Pick up a weight once and a while, my gosh,” you judge. Now your arms are actually WORSE than hers, and even after the purchase of a Bow-flex you have some grand looking biceps, and still that skin hangs there… So go ahead. Judge the way she limps when she walks, or how tired she looks. Judge how many grays you see poking up around her head or wrinkles around her eyes. It’s going be you one day. Don’t shake your head and try to deny it! Karma is coming for you with every judgment you make on someone else. You are going to be in their shoes, with more than just that one annoying problem, and you will have to struggle with finding a solution, while someone else judges you from afar. I had my share of nasty thinking in my goody-two-shoe days. Thank goodness I never made a comment aloud. Who knows what Karma would be doing to me right now!!!

Grey Rainbow

I know it’s a type of depression, I know it can be fixed, and I know it can be fought through…but is it really worth it? I have family whom I love and adore, and that I miss greatly. I want to go home and spend time with them like I used to. I want those great adventures and crazy predicaments that we got ourselves in. I want all of that, which is what makes me truly happy. But then…. I am the only fat girl in my family. I am the only one that won’t be able to keep up on bike rides or hikes. I will be the one covered from head to toe when swimming. I am the one that will be left behind. I will be the one that avoids the camera when we try to document our adventure. I will be the one that doesn’t smile when I get tricked into a photo. I will be the one that doesn’t come over for potlucks because I will look foolish eating in front of everyone. With all that said, is missing my family the same amount of pain as actually seeing them again and feeling like I am not fit to be around on a daily basis? I keep thinking, while I am away, I should back off emotionally starting now. Besides, who really wants my grey attitude leaking into all of their wonderful colors?

Road Rage vs Common Sense

The irritation builds… ~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~ That slow car in front of you, going 10 miles UNDER the speed limit as you scoot as close as you dare BEGGING them to get the hint and speed up…. ~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~ That guy that can see you coming a mile down the road, but he sits on the side road with his blinker on for ages until you approach and he picks that moment to dash in front of you…. ~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~ The car you are stuck behind as it enters the highway from the on ramp, who doesn’t understand that the highway is 20 miles faster than the road they just left, and you see a looming semi heading your way… ~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~ The driver that doesn’t see the left hand turn light’s arrow come on, and sits there until it turns yellow then lurches out to make the turn although the cars behind it no longer can… ~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~ The long line of cars pretending they can’t see you in a traffic jam as you wait and wait on a side road for that one kind soul to let you in… ~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~ That driver that zips around you on a solid line, even though you are going 4 miles OVER the speed limit and they barely miss your front bumper in their rush to be first in line for no where… ~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~ The car in the parking lot that pretends they can’t see your reverse lights, drives up behind you, and sits there while it waits for the line to move… ~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~ It’s that split second, in an evil world, where that one person lets go of control and does what the best of us only imagine. Hits another car. On purpose. ~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~ Today’s term is called Road Rage, brought on by the loss of Common Sense, which in fact is NOT on the drivers exam and allows many unqualified drivers to claim a license. ~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~ I know the feeling, I know the WANT to lose control, but don’t ever plan on doing so just because of the risk of injury to the other driver. I myself have made such mistakes as I have listed above, but once realizing it I raise my hand and mouth the words “sorry” to the other driver. I never pretend I don’t know what I did, and I do my best to let them know so that IF they are having a day such as the one listed above, maybe my little apology will slow the rage. Again, if it were not for the lack of common sense, we wouldn’t have road rage. That’s my math.

Fabulously UN Fabulous

At 36 years old, I still try. Yeah, I do. I still try to put on the t-shirts that show cleavage, even though the cleavage is considerable lower or takes a bit of smart gadgetry to put it back where it belongs. I wear the tighter jeans, but don’t DARE try the skinny jeans and wouldn’t even if I was skinny. I do the strange makeup the girls this day and age use (uh oh, I just said ‘day and age’) with extra sparkle and weird shapes and colors. I do my nails to coordinate my outfit when I have time, and even (sometimes) have toes to match. I get a cute haircut, use the flat iron and curler when I have a spare minute. Chunky, colorful jewelry can be fun too! I can be ‘hip’ by using my son’s babysitter as an example. It’s fun! For a day or two. Then the mom jeans come out, the ones that are baggy but comfortable and your kids don’t want to stand next to you. The pair of jeans where your gut can hang out and it looks like a baggy wrinkle in the front. My glossy, straight, dark brown locks become frizzy and a lighter shade of brown with some grey added. Eventually it ends up in a barrette or even a (gasp!) rubber band. Cleavage? Please. Any comfortable bra will do most days. My fun sandals go to flip flops or ballet slippers…as close to house slippers as I can get away with. My nails are still painted, but my 4th of July spirit clings on longer than it should and doesn’t quite match my pink shirt. There is no makeup on my face at all. In fact, I can’t even find my eyeliner pencil and every one of my freckles can be seen. I don’t know yet if that means my wrinkles can be seen as well, only because I don’t look that close. My eyes are usually closed as I brush my teeth. It’s safer that way. Easier to pretend. I am 36. Is that old? I think it all depends on how you feel, what you allow yourself to look like, and how you allow others to MAKE you feel. In my jeans and ponytail, I can chase my kids and squirt them with a hose. My makeup doesn’t run because I don’t have any on. My dye job and beautiful glossy hair doesn’t ruin or turn green at the pool when I play ‘boat’ for my little ones. My haircut isn’t fancy, but as long as it stays out of my eyes when I play hide and seek, then it works for me. Nails? Well, they ARE painted, but they don’t match my outfits for sure and I can pretend the chipping isn't noticeable at all. I am Absolutely, Outrageously, Undecidedly, Fabulously UN fabulous.