This morning my 9 year old tells me about a new friend of his. This "friend", we'll call him Johnny (little Johnny always gets into trouble in stories), tells my kiddo he has a social media account. Sigh. I can feel myself gearing up for the fight. So, my kiddo says he thinks we should let him online to get a social media account.
He goes on to say, "And before you say I'm not old enough, all I have to do is lie about my age."
No. Nope. Uh uh. He did NOT just say that to me. I explained that we don't encourage or tolerate lying in this house. And that once you start lying, it's hard to stop.
He then tells me that "Johnny" said his friend posted a comment saying someone is a "f'ing 'tard." Damn, damn, damn. We have worked so hard to keep him from using words like that!
I went on to explain that 'tard is slang for retarded and that we NEVER use that word. It's hurtful, ignorant and inexcusable. And I know you're probably wondering why I didn't address the f-bomb. He knows it's not okay to say, he even said so before he quoted "Johnny".
Now I'm faced with that age-old parental dilemma of REALLY disliking this new friend and knowing if I say so, he'll stick like glue. My plan? I'm going to get to know this child (he's a recent addition to a group my kiddo belongs to) and perhaps I can minimize the damage.
In the meantime, I'll watch closely, be glad he confides in me and pray he loses interest in this new friend SOON!!
And the social media fight was nipped in the bud quickly after the f-bomb and the "r" word. If we're doing this now, what in the world will happen during his teen years?!
P.S. Mom, I'm really sorry for my friends you didn't like. I know why now.
Monday, July 8, 2013
Saturday, July 6, 2013
Why Can't I Get This Written?
For two years I've been trying to write a piece about my dad. And for some reason, I can't get it written. Everything I've written comes off fake. Or makes him sound like a saint, and as much as I loved him, he wasn't.
He wasn't a bad person. He was human. He had a horrible temper, held grudges far longer than he should have, and could terrify you with a look. But he also loved his children--biological and stepchildren. He wasn't always fair, but he did love us.
His grandchildren were the light of his life. One of the biggest regrets I have is that he didn't see my boys much. We lived quite a distance away. And after he got sick with cancer, he didn't feel up to the trip or the chaos a visit would bring if we made the trip. Cancer sucks. It's one of the few diseases where the treatment poisons your body so much that it can sap your will to live.
My dad fought it, but he'd had so many other health problems and eventually he lost the fight. And he held on for his wife and kids. Until we gave him permission to let go. I miss him more than I can say.
He taught me to work with wood. We'd build things together. I love the smell of fresh cut lumber. I sometimes wander the lumber store just to bring back those memories. I learned to change oil, change brake shoes, and clean battery connections from him, too. I've helped him haul wood, herd cattle (a comedy, trust me) and work in his garden. He taught me to shoot guns, fish, dress dove. All those things a daddy might teach a boy, if he'd had one. But Dad had me, my sister and married a woman with two daughters. Poor man!
Well, look here! I actually managed to write a little about him. Huh. Who knew? Maybe I was trying too hard. Anyway, thanks for reading and please feel free to comment and/or share.
He wasn't a bad person. He was human. He had a horrible temper, held grudges far longer than he should have, and could terrify you with a look. But he also loved his children--biological and stepchildren. He wasn't always fair, but he did love us.
His grandchildren were the light of his life. One of the biggest regrets I have is that he didn't see my boys much. We lived quite a distance away. And after he got sick with cancer, he didn't feel up to the trip or the chaos a visit would bring if we made the trip. Cancer sucks. It's one of the few diseases where the treatment poisons your body so much that it can sap your will to live.
My dad fought it, but he'd had so many other health problems and eventually he lost the fight. And he held on for his wife and kids. Until we gave him permission to let go. I miss him more than I can say.
He taught me to work with wood. We'd build things together. I love the smell of fresh cut lumber. I sometimes wander the lumber store just to bring back those memories. I learned to change oil, change brake shoes, and clean battery connections from him, too. I've helped him haul wood, herd cattle (a comedy, trust me) and work in his garden. He taught me to shoot guns, fish, dress dove. All those things a daddy might teach a boy, if he'd had one. But Dad had me, my sister and married a woman with two daughters. Poor man!
Well, look here! I actually managed to write a little about him. Huh. Who knew? Maybe I was trying too hard. Anyway, thanks for reading and please feel free to comment and/or share.
Thursday, July 4, 2013
I'm Here and I'm Not Going ANYWHERE!
I've been writing for years. I've not published anything yet. Not because I've been rejected, but because I haven't submitted anything to anyone. Why? How long do you have? Short version, fear. That's it. Fear of rejection, of someone not liking what I wrote, of offending someone. Now that I'm approaching my next birthday (the big 5-0), I realize I don't care any more. I don't care if I offend or someone dislikes what I write. I just plain don't give a damn!
I presented a piece of work at a writing group last month. The critique left me discouraged, frustrated and above all, mad as hell! I am not a poet, never professed to be one. And I prefaced the reading with that statement. And when I was done, I felt like I'd been punched in the stomach. My fault for calling it a poem. I should have called it a narrative or something. The end result, after I got over my cowering fear of presenting ANYTHING to ANYBODY, was to sit up and say, "Screw you!" Okay, not literally, but yeah, that's how I felt. And now, I'm glad I read it. I'm even glad I got the comments I did. I'm done worrying about it. It is what it is, good or bad. That's all. And you know, I'm not getting rid of it. It's got potential.
I'm putting my name out there, making my name visible to publishers, editors, other writers, and the general public. I want people to know who I am. A friend recently asked me how I feel about this new mindset. The answer? Scared shitless. I feel like I'm standing on the edge of a cliff, getting ready to bungee jump. And I can't wait to do it!!
My novels in progress are getting a lot more attention these days. My journal is filling up. I'm putting myself "out there" and letting life happen. By the end of next week, I will have an article ready for submission. Period. No "plan to" or "should have", it will be done.
So, watch as I jump! How do you like me now?
I presented a piece of work at a writing group last month. The critique left me discouraged, frustrated and above all, mad as hell! I am not a poet, never professed to be one. And I prefaced the reading with that statement. And when I was done, I felt like I'd been punched in the stomach. My fault for calling it a poem. I should have called it a narrative or something. The end result, after I got over my cowering fear of presenting ANYTHING to ANYBODY, was to sit up and say, "Screw you!" Okay, not literally, but yeah, that's how I felt. And now, I'm glad I read it. I'm even glad I got the comments I did. I'm done worrying about it. It is what it is, good or bad. That's all. And you know, I'm not getting rid of it. It's got potential.
I'm putting my name out there, making my name visible to publishers, editors, other writers, and the general public. I want people to know who I am. A friend recently asked me how I feel about this new mindset. The answer? Scared shitless. I feel like I'm standing on the edge of a cliff, getting ready to bungee jump. And I can't wait to do it!!
My novels in progress are getting a lot more attention these days. My journal is filling up. I'm putting myself "out there" and letting life happen. By the end of next week, I will have an article ready for submission. Period. No "plan to" or "should have", it will be done.
So, watch as I jump! How do you like me now?
Monday, June 17, 2013
Phobias
I never close my eyes in public. Never. Ever. Close. My. Eyes. In. Public. Not in church during prayer. Not during meditation. Not when I'm doing relaxation exercises with a group. Why? Fear? Paranoia? Anxiety? Okay, pick one.
That explains why I never slept in the hospital when my boys were born. The very thought of someone coming in when I was asleep was enough to sent me into a full blown panic attack!
Hospitals? Totally freak me out. The absolute worst combo there--germs and strangers wandering around. Did I mention I'm also a germaphobe? Yeah, I know. I'm the mom who carries antibacterial wipes EVERYWHERE and avoids public toilets if at all possible. And heaven forbid someone coughs or sneezes near me!! Or mentions they've had ___________(fill in with the latest bug going around)! That's enough to make me break out the germ killing spray!! I was accused of disinfecting my oldest child when anyone got too close. I did NOT! I just bathed him as soon as we got home. So there!
Yeah, I know, I know. I'm a little over the top. Okay, fine, a lot over the top! But (most of) those who know me, love me. Antibacterial wipes and all! Hey, I'm the one the rest of the group comes to for medicine and wipes when we're out in public!
And the most amusing part of this, I have three children, two of whom have asthma (not the funny part) and CANNOT TOLERATE MOST CLEANER SMELLS!!!!!! It's God's way of telling me to get a grip, isn't it?
Oh, and my three children are boys. Boys like dirt, creepy critters and the like. Scary stuff for a germaphobe! But I'm getting better. Really, I am. Yesterday, I picked up a turtle (with gloves on....me, not the turtle) and moved him out of harms way. As my kids would say, "Nah nah nah boo boo!"
Happy reading and blessings!
Wednesday, June 12, 2013
Worms & Turtles & Ants, Oh Boy!
Worms, turtles, ants and dirt! That's what little boys love! We played outside yesterday. The boys were fascinated with our turtle friend. He's taken up residence under out deck for now. He ventures out when we're inside, then slowly creeps under the deck when the boys get loud and busy, which little boys invariably do.
Yesterday, as we played ball and such, the boys kept wandering over to "check" on our friend. This involved sneaking up on the poor turtle and dropping leaves and small twigs on him. One of my twins kept getting closer....braver. Then, SNAP! The turtle had endured enough. He snapped at the stick my little guy was holding. The kiddo developed a healthy respect for our turtle friend.
Then, from across the yard, I hear, "Mom! There's an earthworm! Or maybe a baby snake!" (Shudder!)
I headed over and found an earthworm, moving sluggishly in the 90 degree heat. I carefully picked him up with a leaf, (Eek!) and deposited him in the damp leaves in the woods behind our house. Worm saved! And, thank goodness, no snake! Too hot for them to stir around, I guess.
A little later, I see all three boys poking a stick at something. I walk over and see them stirring up an ant bed. Sigh.
"Boys, stay out of the ants. They sting."
"Mom, you ALWAYS say that!"
Um, because I always mean it? Oh well, they'll learn. I did.
We saw no frogs. Perhaps, they'd heard about the boys in our yard? Or it was too hot? Anyway, I really didn't want to catch frogs, so I was far from disappointed.
The rest of the afternoon, we collected rocks and "arrowheads" and looked for dinosaur bones. Sadly, no dinosaur bones found. But we did find a couple of fossils and arrowhead-like rocks. Good times!
And in the middle of all the dirt and creepy critters, I heard, "Mom, you're the best! I love you!" Punctuated with muddy hugs and kisses, of course! In a few years, they'll be too cool for that, but for now, I'm loving it!
Yesterday, as we played ball and such, the boys kept wandering over to "check" on our friend. This involved sneaking up on the poor turtle and dropping leaves and small twigs on him. One of my twins kept getting closer....braver. Then, SNAP! The turtle had endured enough. He snapped at the stick my little guy was holding. The kiddo developed a healthy respect for our turtle friend.
Then, from across the yard, I hear, "Mom! There's an earthworm! Or maybe a baby snake!" (Shudder!)
I headed over and found an earthworm, moving sluggishly in the 90 degree heat. I carefully picked him up with a leaf, (Eek!) and deposited him in the damp leaves in the woods behind our house. Worm saved! And, thank goodness, no snake! Too hot for them to stir around, I guess.
A little later, I see all three boys poking a stick at something. I walk over and see them stirring up an ant bed. Sigh.
"Boys, stay out of the ants. They sting."
"Mom, you ALWAYS say that!"
Um, because I always mean it? Oh well, they'll learn. I did.
We saw no frogs. Perhaps, they'd heard about the boys in our yard? Or it was too hot? Anyway, I really didn't want to catch frogs, so I was far from disappointed.
The rest of the afternoon, we collected rocks and "arrowheads" and looked for dinosaur bones. Sadly, no dinosaur bones found. But we did find a couple of fossils and arrowhead-like rocks. Good times!
And in the middle of all the dirt and creepy critters, I heard, "Mom, you're the best! I love you!" Punctuated with muddy hugs and kisses, of course! In a few years, they'll be too cool for that, but for now, I'm loving it!
Thursday, May 30, 2013
A blurb from my work in progress....
This is a very rough blurb from the middle of my work in progress.
The drive back took longer because of the load and because Kat didn't want to draw attention to herself. She drove down the road to her grandparent's house. Your house now. She drove past it to another road. She got out, unlocked the gate, pulled in and relocked it behind her. She drove without headlights to the entrance to a tunnel. She unlocked another gate and pulled inside. Once inside, she pulled farther down the road and turned on her headlights. Before long, she reached a steel door and stopped. She pressed a remote and the doors slid open to reveal an underground garage. She pulled the truck around and backed the trailer up to a raised platform. After she killed the motor, she jumped out and pressed the remote to close the steel door. Then she hopped up on the platform, entered a series of numbers on the keypad, and the door slid open to reveal the inside of the bunker. She opened the back of the trailer and began unloading boxes. The weight didn't bother her. She'd lifted weights at the gym to train for just this moment. It took hours, but the trailer was eventually empty and the guns from the truck were unloaded too. She walked through to the bunks and showers in the back of the bunker. She stripped, showered, threw on sweats and climbed into the bunk. She fell into a deep dreamless sleep, comfortable in the knowledge that she was safe, alone and had no need to worry about being discovered.
The drive back took longer because of the load and because Kat didn't want to draw attention to herself. She drove down the road to her grandparent's house. Your house now. She drove past it to another road. She got out, unlocked the gate, pulled in and relocked it behind her. She drove without headlights to the entrance to a tunnel. She unlocked another gate and pulled inside. Once inside, she pulled farther down the road and turned on her headlights. Before long, she reached a steel door and stopped. She pressed a remote and the doors slid open to reveal an underground garage. She pulled the truck around and backed the trailer up to a raised platform. After she killed the motor, she jumped out and pressed the remote to close the steel door. Then she hopped up on the platform, entered a series of numbers on the keypad, and the door slid open to reveal the inside of the bunker. She opened the back of the trailer and began unloading boxes. The weight didn't bother her. She'd lifted weights at the gym to train for just this moment. It took hours, but the trailer was eventually empty and the guns from the truck were unloaded too. She walked through to the bunks and showers in the back of the bunker. She stripped, showered, threw on sweats and climbed into the bunk. She fell into a deep dreamless sleep, comfortable in the knowledge that she was safe, alone and had no need to worry about being discovered.
Wednesday, May 8, 2013
Friendship
I've been thinking about friendship lately. And as I was composing this blog, a writer friend posted something on his blog along the same lines. Funny how life works, isn't it?
It's odd, because my friends range in age from people in their 20's to people in their 90's. I've got friends who are devout Christians, agnostics and athiests. And I love each one of them for the things they bring to my life and allow me to bring to their lives. I have friends that have known and (mostly) loved me for years. I have friends that know my deepest fears, my heartbreaks, my mistakes, my short-comings; and they still love me. I have friends I've known for a short time, who feel like I've known them forever.
As I sit here and think back over the last 40 or so years, (yes, I'll be 50 this year, but shhhhh it's a secret) I am grateful. For the friends who've stuck by me through everything, God bless you. For the friends who've given me a kick in the behind when I needed it, God bless you. For those who make me laugh, cry, think, dream, hope, feel....thank you and God bless you. For the ones who listen to me moan and whine, God bless you.
I guess what I'm saying is, each and every one of my friends is in my heart. I'm not going to list names, because I'd forget someone and hurt feelings. Just know, if our paths have crossed, I'm grateful. God bless you.
It's odd, because my friends range in age from people in their 20's to people in their 90's. I've got friends who are devout Christians, agnostics and athiests. And I love each one of them for the things they bring to my life and allow me to bring to their lives. I have friends that have known and (mostly) loved me for years. I have friends that know my deepest fears, my heartbreaks, my mistakes, my short-comings; and they still love me. I have friends I've known for a short time, who feel like I've known them forever.
As I sit here and think back over the last 40 or so years, (yes, I'll be 50 this year, but shhhhh it's a secret) I am grateful. For the friends who've stuck by me through everything, God bless you. For the friends who've given me a kick in the behind when I needed it, God bless you. For those who make me laugh, cry, think, dream, hope, feel....thank you and God bless you. For the ones who listen to me moan and whine, God bless you.
I guess what I'm saying is, each and every one of my friends is in my heart. I'm not going to list names, because I'd forget someone and hurt feelings. Just know, if our paths have crossed, I'm grateful. God bless you.
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