After having to explain my family dynamic to the 8 millionth nosy person this morning, I've decided to compile a handy reference guide for anyone who has questions about someone else's family.
Here is a simple list of things that it is not ok to ask:
-Got started on that family awful young, huh? *winkwink*
Yes. I had my first child at age 9, you idiot. Clearly I am not old enough to be their biological mother, it's not rocket science. It's also not any of your effing business.
-Don't you want any real kids?
So...the ones I have clothed, fed, bathed, provided for, cried over their hurts, and celebrated their victories with for 11 yeaes are imaginary? Or are you inferring that because we don't share DNA they are less important? Makes you kinda sound like a douche when it's phrased that way, now doesn't it? Also, it's none of your effing business.
-Isn't it hard raising someone else's kids?
Because biological kids are so easy to raise, right? One more thing, it's none of your effing business.
-How do you do it?
Apparently better than you. Hey guess what? None of your effing business.
Things that it IS ok to say to someone about their family:
"My, what a beautiful family you have"
-Thank you.
Seriously people. I promise to never ask ridiculously intimate and prodding questions about your family, if you will extend the same courtesy to me. If you are lut there giving life your all, and doing everything you can every day to give your family the best life possible, kudos to you. And your family does not have to meet my definition of family. Is it that hard of a concept to understand?
Monday, July 6, 2015
Monday, September 23, 2013
Does bullying begin at home?
Almost every day anymore, we are seeing stories on the news of something tragic happening to a child who has been bullied at school. Kids that finally come to a breaking point and just snap, and act way outside of the norm for their age/maturity level, or even for themselves.
Every time, the story is exactly the same...the child snaps and hurts themselves or someone else. The community is rocked by it, and the friends/relatives/acquaintances all say that the child was just so quiet, calm, kept to themselves. The community "never saw it coming."
Just in our own area recently, a twelve year old girl was pushed to the point of committing suicide because she was brought so low as to believe there was no other option for her. She believed that no one cared about her. She thought that she was so hated that she and everyone around her would be better off if she were not here anymore.
This little girl was TWELVE. A BABY! As I type this, I am sitting next to my own son who is about to be twelve. When I look at his young, innocent self, it brings me to tears to think of what on earth could go thru a pre-teen child's mind to make them think that suicide is the only option.
Two of my three kids have had to deal with extensive bullying at some point in their lives. For my eldest, it was a year or two. For my youngest, it's been all of his life. It's the stereotypical crap...he is short and skinny. He wears glasses and is highly intelligent. All of these things, which I find to be beautiful about him are used against him on a daily basis, as if he has any control over his stature or vision.
Every time I've heard a story of a child committing suicide or hurting someone else, I have always thought "that could never be me...I am way more in tune with my kids. I would know if something was that far off with one of them." But would I? Would I really know? Because when I look back at my own childhood, I remember clearly a LOT of things that went on right under my mom's nose, and she never knew. Kids are good at hiding things when they want to.
One of my cousins today posted a little status update on Facebook regarding a situation where she witnessed a situation very similar to what my own son has been through on many occasions. He has been teased, made fun of, beaten up, had his glasses broken....the list is extensive. All because of what? Because he is a good, well mannered, skinny kid?
I've always been angry with the kids that do this....but reading my cousin's post today made me think about this bullying epidemic in a new light. There are efforts all over the US to prevent bullying in schools, but it just occurred to me today, the bigger issue isn't stopping the problem....it's PREVENTING the problem.
Where does bullying start? Where do kids learn to make fun of people for no other reason than that they are a little different? What causes a child to suddenly think it is ok to be cruel to another human being because they weigh a little more, or a little less than the norm. Because they wear glasses. Because they may not excel in a certain area, or because they do excel in others. Because of their sexual preference, their skin color, or religious values. Where does hate originate?
I believe wholeheartedly that it starts at home. I think that we, as parents, teach our children hatred. Maybe some of it is with malicious intent, and maybe some is not...but I think it's the root of the problem, regardless of whether its intentional.
Have you ever laughed at an obese person in the grocery store? Did your kids see you? Have you ever made a crude comment about a homosexual couple at the mall? Have you ever called someone a nerd? Do you throw the word "gay" around as an insult for anything/anyone that you don't care for? Do you use the word "retarded?" Do you call people stupid or dumb because they don't know the answer to a question?
I do. I do each and everyone one of these things....or at least I am certain that I have at one point or another. And I am also certain that my kids have seen it. They have witnessed me being hateful.
Now I'm sure you're thinking "well yeah...but I would never say any of those things to the person's face!"...which might be true....but do your kids know that? Do your kids know that maybe the things you joke about at home are not things you would actually say to someone, because you know they would be traumatizing and hurtful words? Do your kids know that a hateful word can do more damage than a physical assault? Do your kids know that people are just people, and no matter what their differences, we are all beautiful?
Do you remember when your momma used to tell you "if you don't have anything nice to say, don't say anything at all?" Do you practice this?
I believe that the cruel hateful mindset that is the root of most bullying starts at home, with our families. I believe that whether we intend to or not, we are teaching our children that anyone who is not exactly like us is bad and it's ok to make fun.
I am not preaching...because I'm probably more guilty than anyone I know. I'm acknowledging that it's a problem, and that I am going to be more conscientious of what I say about people, because in reality...if it's something I wouldn't say to a person's face, then I certainly shouldn't say it behind their back. I'm going to try a lot harder to adhere to this, and hope that in turn, my children will never be the ones inflicting the pain that others have inflicted upon them.
Every time, the story is exactly the same...the child snaps and hurts themselves or someone else. The community is rocked by it, and the friends/relatives/acquaintances all say that the child was just so quiet, calm, kept to themselves. The community "never saw it coming."
Just in our own area recently, a twelve year old girl was pushed to the point of committing suicide because she was brought so low as to believe there was no other option for her. She believed that no one cared about her. She thought that she was so hated that she and everyone around her would be better off if she were not here anymore.
This little girl was TWELVE. A BABY! As I type this, I am sitting next to my own son who is about to be twelve. When I look at his young, innocent self, it brings me to tears to think of what on earth could go thru a pre-teen child's mind to make them think that suicide is the only option.
Two of my three kids have had to deal with extensive bullying at some point in their lives. For my eldest, it was a year or two. For my youngest, it's been all of his life. It's the stereotypical crap...he is short and skinny. He wears glasses and is highly intelligent. All of these things, which I find to be beautiful about him are used against him on a daily basis, as if he has any control over his stature or vision.
Every time I've heard a story of a child committing suicide or hurting someone else, I have always thought "that could never be me...I am way more in tune with my kids. I would know if something was that far off with one of them." But would I? Would I really know? Because when I look back at my own childhood, I remember clearly a LOT of things that went on right under my mom's nose, and she never knew. Kids are good at hiding things when they want to.
One of my cousins today posted a little status update on Facebook regarding a situation where she witnessed a situation very similar to what my own son has been through on many occasions. He has been teased, made fun of, beaten up, had his glasses broken....the list is extensive. All because of what? Because he is a good, well mannered, skinny kid?
I've always been angry with the kids that do this....but reading my cousin's post today made me think about this bullying epidemic in a new light. There are efforts all over the US to prevent bullying in schools, but it just occurred to me today, the bigger issue isn't stopping the problem....it's PREVENTING the problem.
Where does bullying start? Where do kids learn to make fun of people for no other reason than that they are a little different? What causes a child to suddenly think it is ok to be cruel to another human being because they weigh a little more, or a little less than the norm. Because they wear glasses. Because they may not excel in a certain area, or because they do excel in others. Because of their sexual preference, their skin color, or religious values. Where does hate originate?
I believe wholeheartedly that it starts at home. I think that we, as parents, teach our children hatred. Maybe some of it is with malicious intent, and maybe some is not...but I think it's the root of the problem, regardless of whether its intentional.
Have you ever laughed at an obese person in the grocery store? Did your kids see you? Have you ever made a crude comment about a homosexual couple at the mall? Have you ever called someone a nerd? Do you throw the word "gay" around as an insult for anything/anyone that you don't care for? Do you use the word "retarded?" Do you call people stupid or dumb because they don't know the answer to a question?
I do. I do each and everyone one of these things....or at least I am certain that I have at one point or another. And I am also certain that my kids have seen it. They have witnessed me being hateful.
Now I'm sure you're thinking "well yeah...but I would never say any of those things to the person's face!"...which might be true....but do your kids know that? Do your kids know that maybe the things you joke about at home are not things you would actually say to someone, because you know they would be traumatizing and hurtful words? Do your kids know that a hateful word can do more damage than a physical assault? Do your kids know that people are just people, and no matter what their differences, we are all beautiful?
Do you remember when your momma used to tell you "if you don't have anything nice to say, don't say anything at all?" Do you practice this?
I believe that the cruel hateful mindset that is the root of most bullying starts at home, with our families. I believe that whether we intend to or not, we are teaching our children that anyone who is not exactly like us is bad and it's ok to make fun.
I am not preaching...because I'm probably more guilty than anyone I know. I'm acknowledging that it's a problem, and that I am going to be more conscientious of what I say about people, because in reality...if it's something I wouldn't say to a person's face, then I certainly shouldn't say it behind their back. I'm going to try a lot harder to adhere to this, and hope that in turn, my children will never be the ones inflicting the pain that others have inflicted upon them.
Thursday, September 12, 2013
Ladies...just stay where you belong, mmmmkay?
I don't even know where to begin with this post. I'll just start by referencing the following piece of crap article that one of my girlfriends so delightfully shared with me today:
http://www.fixthefamily.com/blog/6-reasons-to-not-send-your-daughter-to-college
Go ahead and read that gem. I'll wait.
You finished now? Is your blood boiling? Are you ready to kill someone? If not, you should be.
The most influential person in my life was my grandmother, God rest her soul. My Grammie was a good Christian lady. And, being of her generation, she lived a life that was very similar to what this person describes here. She had 11 children. ELEVEN. She did not go to college, she did not have a driver's license. She stayed home and raised her children and kept her home. She did not, however, homeschool my father nor his siblings. Aside from that, she pretty well fits the bill for the description given of women here.
My grandmother was honestly one of the most incredible people I've ever met. I have idolized her all of my life, and strive daily to be more like her. I always thought if I could be just like my Grammie, I would consider myself a success.
However...there are a few little known facts about my Grammie. As I stated earlier, she was the most influential person in my life. Given the number of children and grand children that she had, I covet the amount of intimate time that I got to spend with her. Myself and one of my cousins, Erin, were blessed in that we got to spend more time with her and learn more from her than I think any of her other grandchildren. The summers we spent together at our grandparents house growing up are something that no one can ever take away.
In the time we spent together, we learned invaluable lessons from Grammie. We learned how to garden, we learned how to cook and bake (although Grammie would never admit to teaching us to cook, she would say she taught us to read a recipe...), we learned how to knit and cross stitch, we learned how to sneak treats upstairs for our giggle-filled nights of watching soap operas and chatting about any and everything.
And, we also learned how to be strong, independent women.
Our grandmother taught us that, although she stayed home and raised her family in the way that she thought to be proper, that she was never truly happy with that life. She taught us that we needed to have our own hopes, dreams, and goals for life. She taught us that having a driver's license and being able to transport ourselves places was as crucial as breathing. She taught us that we should never sacrifice our own happiness for the happiness of a man. That a husband and wife should be a compliment to one another, always making sacrifices for EACH other, and that no person is better than another.
I also loved and idolized my grandfather, as he was quite literally the most intelligent person I've ever known. He spent countless hours with us on his knee, teaching us to read, showing us how to plant and cultivate things, taking us hiking and teaching us about nature. He was an incredible man...but I also observed how he and Grammie interacted with one another. There was no passion. They did not look at each other the way my husband and I do. They were not tender with one another. There were times that I saw Grammie send Grandpa to the grocery with a list, and he would come back without several of the items she asked for, because he didn't "think" she really needed them.
My grandparents were faithful to one another. Grammie faithfully kept his home, and put a beautiful meal on the table for him every day for near on 70 years. She raised his children, and he provided for her and the family.
But do I believe that either of them were fulfilled in their life? No. I do not.
I witnessed the exact lifestyle that the author of this article is referencing, and I saw the emptiness that they both felt. I listened to my Grammie when she told me that I needed to seek happiness and a fulfilling life for my own future, whether that happiness came from being a stay-at-home mom, or having a career, or being single, or going to college...whatever it was, all she wanted for our generation was to be happy with our choices.
When I read this article written by a man...and then I reflect on the lessons I was taught by a very noble woman who lived exactly the life described here, it incites a rage in me that I don't even have words to express. Who is this man to judge the life of another? Who is this man to condemn me and my family as sinners, for choosing the path that leads to the most happiness and fulfillment for everyone in my home? Who is this man to think he knows God's design?
You know who I think the real sinners are? Those who think they know all the answers, and that there is a "one size fits all" way of life. Judge not, lest ye be not judged, right?
http://www.fixthefamily.com/blog/6-reasons-to-not-send-your-daughter-to-college
Go ahead and read that gem. I'll wait.
You finished now? Is your blood boiling? Are you ready to kill someone? If not, you should be.
The most influential person in my life was my grandmother, God rest her soul. My Grammie was a good Christian lady. And, being of her generation, she lived a life that was very similar to what this person describes here. She had 11 children. ELEVEN. She did not go to college, she did not have a driver's license. She stayed home and raised her children and kept her home. She did not, however, homeschool my father nor his siblings. Aside from that, she pretty well fits the bill for the description given of women here.
My grandmother was honestly one of the most incredible people I've ever met. I have idolized her all of my life, and strive daily to be more like her. I always thought if I could be just like my Grammie, I would consider myself a success.
However...there are a few little known facts about my Grammie. As I stated earlier, she was the most influential person in my life. Given the number of children and grand children that she had, I covet the amount of intimate time that I got to spend with her. Myself and one of my cousins, Erin, were blessed in that we got to spend more time with her and learn more from her than I think any of her other grandchildren. The summers we spent together at our grandparents house growing up are something that no one can ever take away.
In the time we spent together, we learned invaluable lessons from Grammie. We learned how to garden, we learned how to cook and bake (although Grammie would never admit to teaching us to cook, she would say she taught us to read a recipe...), we learned how to knit and cross stitch, we learned how to sneak treats upstairs for our giggle-filled nights of watching soap operas and chatting about any and everything.
And, we also learned how to be strong, independent women.
Our grandmother taught us that, although she stayed home and raised her family in the way that she thought to be proper, that she was never truly happy with that life. She taught us that we needed to have our own hopes, dreams, and goals for life. She taught us that having a driver's license and being able to transport ourselves places was as crucial as breathing. She taught us that we should never sacrifice our own happiness for the happiness of a man. That a husband and wife should be a compliment to one another, always making sacrifices for EACH other, and that no person is better than another.
I also loved and idolized my grandfather, as he was quite literally the most intelligent person I've ever known. He spent countless hours with us on his knee, teaching us to read, showing us how to plant and cultivate things, taking us hiking and teaching us about nature. He was an incredible man...but I also observed how he and Grammie interacted with one another. There was no passion. They did not look at each other the way my husband and I do. They were not tender with one another. There were times that I saw Grammie send Grandpa to the grocery with a list, and he would come back without several of the items she asked for, because he didn't "think" she really needed them.
My grandparents were faithful to one another. Grammie faithfully kept his home, and put a beautiful meal on the table for him every day for near on 70 years. She raised his children, and he provided for her and the family.
But do I believe that either of them were fulfilled in their life? No. I do not.
I witnessed the exact lifestyle that the author of this article is referencing, and I saw the emptiness that they both felt. I listened to my Grammie when she told me that I needed to seek happiness and a fulfilling life for my own future, whether that happiness came from being a stay-at-home mom, or having a career, or being single, or going to college...whatever it was, all she wanted for our generation was to be happy with our choices.
When I read this article written by a man...and then I reflect on the lessons I was taught by a very noble woman who lived exactly the life described here, it incites a rage in me that I don't even have words to express. Who is this man to judge the life of another? Who is this man to condemn me and my family as sinners, for choosing the path that leads to the most happiness and fulfillment for everyone in my home? Who is this man to think he knows God's design?
You know who I think the real sinners are? Those who think they know all the answers, and that there is a "one size fits all" way of life. Judge not, lest ye be not judged, right?
Tuesday, August 20, 2013
Were our entire childhood's based upon a lie?
I had an epiphany the other day when my kid went missing for about 2 hours. (yeah yeah...missing kid, scary stuff. She was found and fine and hadn't been raped, so we can just skip over that for now...
While I was in the midst of freaking out because my kid was MIA, one of my girlfriends mentioned that she was in the area of the school and would be happy to swing by and take a looksie. She asked if she had permission to embarrass my daughter if/when she found her. Of course! I said.
So in true bestie fashion, she held true to her word. As soon as she spotted my daughter, she began honking the horn obnoxiously and screaming her name out the window of the car (first AND last i might add). While she was disappointed that she didn't know Court's middle name, she was still able to turn plenty of teenage heads on campus, and operation embarrass the hell out of the 15 year old was a success.
How does this equate to our own childhood being a lie, you ask?
Well...it got me thinking. Every American teenager since the beginning of the beginning has believed (rightfully so) that our parents were lame as hell. But....WHAT IF...they really weren't lame and it was all just a rouse to make our lives miserable all while providing themselves with secret entertainment?
I look back on my own parents. My dad for example...surely he had to have known that under no circumstances is it cool and/or fashionably acceptable to wear swim trunks with a collared shirt, knee high black dress socks and penny loafers. But, he wore that outfit almost every time he took me out in public somewhere.
Did my mom really think that dance that she did in the stands at every marching band performance that she attended was cool? You know the one...where every other spectator is sitting and watching politely, but that ONE mom is standing on top of the bleachers raising the roof, gyrating in some motion that is supposed to resemble a dance but is in no way keeping time with the music, all while screaming your name and you are just praying that your uniform makes you look anonymous enough that no one else will recognize you. That dance that makes you secretly hate your parents for giving you a unique name that no one else has, because they would have been kind enough to name you Jessica or Jennifer, no one would ever know which kid this crazy woman belonged to.
What about when mom rolled up to the school to drop you off wearing nothing but her bathrobe? And you begged her to drop you off a conservative 6-8 city blocks from the school because "you needed the exercise anyway?" I KNOW this is sometimes a set up, because I *may* have at one point actually put my bathrobe on over top of my clothes that I was already wearing, just for the simple fact that my kids make it so loudly known that I should never, ever take them to school wearing my robe.
WHAT IF...your parents are out one day, and dad needs a haircut...and the conversation goes like this "honey, i need to get my haircut. you know what would be really funny? If I got a mullet." And mom replies "I'll pay you in a lifetime supply of *adult* favors if you get a mullet and show up at Little Johnny's football practice."
It's finally starting to dawn on me. Maybe I'm not original. I make a lifelong career out of coming up with the most creative and spiteful ways to embarrass my children. I've always done it thinking that since I had to endure lame-o parents that mine should have to do the same. But what if that's always been the way of the world. What if all of our parents were actually INTENTIONALLY embarrassing us all those years?
I feel like I've been robbed of my innocence here. Now I need to call my mom and do some investigative research.
While I was in the midst of freaking out because my kid was MIA, one of my girlfriends mentioned that she was in the area of the school and would be happy to swing by and take a looksie. She asked if she had permission to embarrass my daughter if/when she found her. Of course! I said.
So in true bestie fashion, she held true to her word. As soon as she spotted my daughter, she began honking the horn obnoxiously and screaming her name out the window of the car (first AND last i might add). While she was disappointed that she didn't know Court's middle name, she was still able to turn plenty of teenage heads on campus, and operation embarrass the hell out of the 15 year old was a success.
How does this equate to our own childhood being a lie, you ask?
Well...it got me thinking. Every American teenager since the beginning of the beginning has believed (rightfully so) that our parents were lame as hell. But....WHAT IF...they really weren't lame and it was all just a rouse to make our lives miserable all while providing themselves with secret entertainment?
I look back on my own parents. My dad for example...surely he had to have known that under no circumstances is it cool and/or fashionably acceptable to wear swim trunks with a collared shirt, knee high black dress socks and penny loafers. But, he wore that outfit almost every time he took me out in public somewhere.
Did my mom really think that dance that she did in the stands at every marching band performance that she attended was cool? You know the one...where every other spectator is sitting and watching politely, but that ONE mom is standing on top of the bleachers raising the roof, gyrating in some motion that is supposed to resemble a dance but is in no way keeping time with the music, all while screaming your name and you are just praying that your uniform makes you look anonymous enough that no one else will recognize you. That dance that makes you secretly hate your parents for giving you a unique name that no one else has, because they would have been kind enough to name you Jessica or Jennifer, no one would ever know which kid this crazy woman belonged to.
What about when mom rolled up to the school to drop you off wearing nothing but her bathrobe? And you begged her to drop you off a conservative 6-8 city blocks from the school because "you needed the exercise anyway?" I KNOW this is sometimes a set up, because I *may* have at one point actually put my bathrobe on over top of my clothes that I was already wearing, just for the simple fact that my kids make it so loudly known that I should never, ever take them to school wearing my robe.
WHAT IF...your parents are out one day, and dad needs a haircut...and the conversation goes like this "honey, i need to get my haircut. you know what would be really funny? If I got a mullet." And mom replies "I'll pay you in a lifetime supply of *adult* favors if you get a mullet and show up at Little Johnny's football practice."
It's finally starting to dawn on me. Maybe I'm not original. I make a lifelong career out of coming up with the most creative and spiteful ways to embarrass my children. I've always done it thinking that since I had to endure lame-o parents that mine should have to do the same. But what if that's always been the way of the world. What if all of our parents were actually INTENTIONALLY embarrassing us all those years?
I feel like I've been robbed of my innocence here. Now I need to call my mom and do some investigative research.
Friday, August 17, 2012
God Bless Teachers
I tried to warn you guys that I would forget all about this blog shortly after it's birth. And look at me...I've done just that.
Another back to school season is upon us. Kids start back to their respective prisons on Monday. Although, my kids are weirdos...they love school, and their excitement at the start of a new year is bewildering. Took them all to orientation yesterday...you know the drill...met the teachers, got the mile long list of required supplies (that of course do NOT match the supplies that I've already bought...). School uniforms have been procured.
I have a bunch of teacher friends...and can I just take a minute to say, my hat is off to you ladies (and gentlemen...). It is all I can do to maintain my sanity where my own children are concerned. How on earth you saints manage to get thru the day dealing with other people's little heathens is beyond me.
Yesterday alone, I was on the verge of physically assaulting at least a dozen rude, disrespectful, scantily dressed little aholes. Why anyone would voluntarily put themselves in charge of a mass of other people's kids is more than my mind can comprehend.
For that, I'd just like to say thank you. Thank you to all of my friends, and all of the other teachers whom I may not know for putting your own sanity on the line to advance the lives of young people who will not, for many years, have any appreciation for what you do and sacrifice for them.
Thank you, from the bottom of my heart, for reaching out to our future leaders and trying to fill a role that many of them may not have at home.
Thank you, for doing what I do not have the ability to do. And for doing it with a smile.
Another back to school season is upon us. Kids start back to their respective prisons on Monday. Although, my kids are weirdos...they love school, and their excitement at the start of a new year is bewildering. Took them all to orientation yesterday...you know the drill...met the teachers, got the mile long list of required supplies (that of course do NOT match the supplies that I've already bought...). School uniforms have been procured.
I have a bunch of teacher friends...and can I just take a minute to say, my hat is off to you ladies (and gentlemen...). It is all I can do to maintain my sanity where my own children are concerned. How on earth you saints manage to get thru the day dealing with other people's little heathens is beyond me.
Yesterday alone, I was on the verge of physically assaulting at least a dozen rude, disrespectful, scantily dressed little aholes. Why anyone would voluntarily put themselves in charge of a mass of other people's kids is more than my mind can comprehend.
For that, I'd just like to say thank you. Thank you to all of my friends, and all of the other teachers whom I may not know for putting your own sanity on the line to advance the lives of young people who will not, for many years, have any appreciation for what you do and sacrifice for them.
Thank you, from the bottom of my heart, for reaching out to our future leaders and trying to fill a role that many of them may not have at home.
Thank you, for doing what I do not have the ability to do. And for doing it with a smile.
Saturday, August 4, 2012
Put up, or shut up.
Ahhh...another major election year is upon us.
I know, I know...I'm supposed to write funny things. Things that make you laugh. Things about wanting to violently assault some unsuspecting offender. Meh...it's my blog, and I can write what I want to. (ohhh...that should be a song...)
Today, I am frustrated with my generation. I am frustrated with the number of people my age who do not use their voice. It baffles me the number of people in their early-mid twenties that are politically clueless. Maybe it's because of who my father is, that I am so adamant that every American should exercise their right to vote. Maybe if I were raised differently, I would feel differently, I don't know. My mom is completely politically neutral. She does not vote, and she does not get involved in politics. I am ok with that. (I know, hypocritical you say, right?) Not really...I am ok with my mom being neutral and refusing to vote because she is truly neutral. Which means she doesn't vote, but she also doesn't bitch. She doesn't complain about our political leaders and/or the policies that they put in place. She goes thru her life just living for herself, and doing what she is told to do. That is what makes her happy, and that is ok with me. That means that she does not have the right to complain about our government...and she knows that.
My dad on the other hand? Couldn't be further from mom on the political spectrum. He IS an elected official. Albeit, a small farm town commissioner in rural Vermont...but that doesn't matter, he is involved. He voices his opinion, he makes his feelings known. That gives him the right to complain if he doesn't like the way things are going.
Since I grew up with parents that were complete and total polar opposites from each other, I got to explore both sides of the spectrum, and it helped me to understand the importance of making my voice heard. My dad always beat it into my head that voting of our officials is a RIGHT that we are given in this country. And that if we don't exercise that right, then we do not have the right to complain about whatever happens.
Well...we all know Liza loves to complain!
It blows my mind that so many people our age just don't give a damn. I don't care if your opinions are the same as mine, if you make an informed decision about something, and you vote your opinion, then you are doing your part.
Which brings me to my second point...INFORMED decisions. Yeah...those seem to have gone right out the window, don't they? A recent conversation with a friend made me realize that some people (a lot of people?) actually form their opinions of a candidate based on the commercials they see on TV.
WHAT?!?!?!?!
I don't even know where to begin in addressing that topic. Maybe it's better that those people just don't vote at all. I dunno.
I know, I know...I'm supposed to write funny things. Things that make you laugh. Things about wanting to violently assault some unsuspecting offender. Meh...it's my blog, and I can write what I want to. (ohhh...that should be a song...)
Today, I am frustrated with my generation. I am frustrated with the number of people my age who do not use their voice. It baffles me the number of people in their early-mid twenties that are politically clueless. Maybe it's because of who my father is, that I am so adamant that every American should exercise their right to vote. Maybe if I were raised differently, I would feel differently, I don't know. My mom is completely politically neutral. She does not vote, and she does not get involved in politics. I am ok with that. (I know, hypocritical you say, right?) Not really...I am ok with my mom being neutral and refusing to vote because she is truly neutral. Which means she doesn't vote, but she also doesn't bitch. She doesn't complain about our political leaders and/or the policies that they put in place. She goes thru her life just living for herself, and doing what she is told to do. That is what makes her happy, and that is ok with me. That means that she does not have the right to complain about our government...and she knows that.
My dad on the other hand? Couldn't be further from mom on the political spectrum. He IS an elected official. Albeit, a small farm town commissioner in rural Vermont...but that doesn't matter, he is involved. He voices his opinion, he makes his feelings known. That gives him the right to complain if he doesn't like the way things are going.
Since I grew up with parents that were complete and total polar opposites from each other, I got to explore both sides of the spectrum, and it helped me to understand the importance of making my voice heard. My dad always beat it into my head that voting of our officials is a RIGHT that we are given in this country. And that if we don't exercise that right, then we do not have the right to complain about whatever happens.
Well...we all know Liza loves to complain!
It blows my mind that so many people our age just don't give a damn. I don't care if your opinions are the same as mine, if you make an informed decision about something, and you vote your opinion, then you are doing your part.
Which brings me to my second point...INFORMED decisions. Yeah...those seem to have gone right out the window, don't they? A recent conversation with a friend made me realize that some people (a lot of people?) actually form their opinions of a candidate based on the commercials they see on TV.
WHAT?!?!?!?!
I don't even know where to begin in addressing that topic. Maybe it's better that those people just don't vote at all. I dunno.
Thursday, August 2, 2012
Suggestions for Divorce Lawyer?
I may be needing to hire one. So if any of you guys have strong connections, keep me in mind.
Don't be mistaken...I am not having any marital problems (at least none that I know of...) but I'm starting to think my husband might be planning to kick me to the curb. Maybe he finally realized he's infinitely hotter than me or something. I dunno. He came home last night talking about a story he heard on the radio about a couple who got divorced and had a custody battle over their dog.
He says "I'm just telling you, if we ever get divorced...I am definitely taking you to court over Rome."
What the hell ever! He can take the kids. He can keep the house. I will even let him keep my coveted mini-van. But there is no way in hell he is keeping the dog. The dog and the boat are mine.
I am even willing to work out some kind of a joint custody arrangement on the boat. But Romeo is off limits.
Don't be mistaken...I am not having any marital problems (at least none that I know of...) but I'm starting to think my husband might be planning to kick me to the curb. Maybe he finally realized he's infinitely hotter than me or something. I dunno. He came home last night talking about a story he heard on the radio about a couple who got divorced and had a custody battle over their dog.
He says "I'm just telling you, if we ever get divorced...I am definitely taking you to court over Rome."
What the hell ever! He can take the kids. He can keep the house. I will even let him keep my coveted mini-van. But there is no way in hell he is keeping the dog. The dog and the boat are mine.
I am even willing to work out some kind of a joint custody arrangement on the boat. But Romeo is off limits.
Wednesday, July 25, 2012
I am a flipping MESS!
A complete and utter disorganized, disheveled MESS!
I know what you're thinking. "oh Liza...everyone is a tad disorganized at times. Everyone forgets things at times."
Ya, you really have no earthly idea. I am THAT mom...the one who forgets to pick my kids up from school. No, you still don't get it. Sure, you've probably forgotten your kid a time or two. It's to be expected...we are busy women, with busy schedules...shiz happens. No, I am the mom who ALWAYS forgets my kid. Last year, Daughter #2 had after school band practice Every. Single. Wednesday. And I drove all the way home without picking her up, you guessed it...Every. Single. Wednesday.
She would get pissed at me too. The phone call always went something like this "Hello?" "ARE YOU FREAKING SERIOUS? YOU FORGOT ME AGAIN?!?! THAT MAKES 7 WEEKS IN A ROW YOU KNOW! IT'S HOT OUT HERE!"
To which I always respond "Shut up kid. I'm on my way. You keep this between us, and I'll buy you an ice cream on the way home."
I easily spent a month's worth of my salary feeding that kid sugary frozen treats just to keep her from telling her father how many times I left her sitting at school.
That's not even the tip of the iceberg either. I go to the store for a gallon of milk, walk out $200 later with no milk. And the worst part is, I don't even realize it til the next day.
I recently went out of town for a 4 day little mini-vaca. I packed 8 pairs of pants for the trip, and no shirts.
Just last week I decided to have a fish fry for dinner. Turned on the fryer to heat up my grease while I prepped the fish. However, after turning on the fryer, I completely forgot that I intended have a fish fry. I made meatloaf, mashed taters and corn. The next morning, my husband found the fryer still on. It's a wonder I didn't burn my freaking house down.
I really think there is something wrong with me. This is not normal mom-brain. This is like mom-brain mixed with a side of ADHD, and a little bit of schizophrenia thrown in there just to spice things up a tad.
The bad thing is, 2 out of the 3 kids are just like me in this regard. Obviously, they don't share my DNA, but i'm pretty sure they've contracted this disease by osmosis or something. The oldest girl, and the boy...yeah, they are doomed. I sent the boy upstairs to brush his teeth two nights ago. He came down 20 minutes later wearing different clothes, and with his hair wet. Never brushed his teeth...because when he got to the top of the stairs and couldn't recall why I sent him up there, he assumed it was to take a shower and get dressed.
Our eldest daughter? Exactly the same way.
The middle one on the other hand? She is OCD enough for all the rest of us combined. And don't ever tell her anything unless you really want her to remember it. How do you think I got stuck buy so damn many ice creams last year?
So tell me, what do you forget to do?
I know what you're thinking. "oh Liza...everyone is a tad disorganized at times. Everyone forgets things at times."
Ya, you really have no earthly idea. I am THAT mom...the one who forgets to pick my kids up from school. No, you still don't get it. Sure, you've probably forgotten your kid a time or two. It's to be expected...we are busy women, with busy schedules...shiz happens. No, I am the mom who ALWAYS forgets my kid. Last year, Daughter #2 had after school band practice Every. Single. Wednesday. And I drove all the way home without picking her up, you guessed it...Every. Single. Wednesday.
She would get pissed at me too. The phone call always went something like this "Hello?" "ARE YOU FREAKING SERIOUS? YOU FORGOT ME AGAIN?!?! THAT MAKES 7 WEEKS IN A ROW YOU KNOW! IT'S HOT OUT HERE!"
To which I always respond "Shut up kid. I'm on my way. You keep this between us, and I'll buy you an ice cream on the way home."
I easily spent a month's worth of my salary feeding that kid sugary frozen treats just to keep her from telling her father how many times I left her sitting at school.
That's not even the tip of the iceberg either. I go to the store for a gallon of milk, walk out $200 later with no milk. And the worst part is, I don't even realize it til the next day.
I recently went out of town for a 4 day little mini-vaca. I packed 8 pairs of pants for the trip, and no shirts.
Just last week I decided to have a fish fry for dinner. Turned on the fryer to heat up my grease while I prepped the fish. However, after turning on the fryer, I completely forgot that I intended have a fish fry. I made meatloaf, mashed taters and corn. The next morning, my husband found the fryer still on. It's a wonder I didn't burn my freaking house down.
I really think there is something wrong with me. This is not normal mom-brain. This is like mom-brain mixed with a side of ADHD, and a little bit of schizophrenia thrown in there just to spice things up a tad.
The bad thing is, 2 out of the 3 kids are just like me in this regard. Obviously, they don't share my DNA, but i'm pretty sure they've contracted this disease by osmosis or something. The oldest girl, and the boy...yeah, they are doomed. I sent the boy upstairs to brush his teeth two nights ago. He came down 20 minutes later wearing different clothes, and with his hair wet. Never brushed his teeth...because when he got to the top of the stairs and couldn't recall why I sent him up there, he assumed it was to take a shower and get dressed.
Our eldest daughter? Exactly the same way.
The middle one on the other hand? She is OCD enough for all the rest of us combined. And don't ever tell her anything unless you really want her to remember it. How do you think I got stuck buy so damn many ice creams last year?
So tell me, what do you forget to do?
Monday, July 23, 2012
We women are serious hypocrites!
I know...my Girl's Night Out rights are about to be revoked. I'm stepping over to the other side for just one minute, and I'm going to pay for it dearly. Lucky for me, my girlfriends are fairly forgiving (I hope!).
It's the year 2012...the days of women belonging in the kitchen are long gone. We've worked hard to establish our equality, and that is something I'm damn proud of. Just because I work for a construction company doesn't mean I am a secretary...I know as much about building as all of my guys, and more than most of them.
My daughters can practically recite my entire "women must be independent of their men" speech by heart. They've heard it so many times that I'm pretty sure if I ever lost my place and needed help finishing it, they could take right over for me.
I am ALL in favor of women's equality. We should be treated the same. Paid the same. Respected the same.
Or should we?
ohhhhhhhhhhh...here comes the part i'm going to get in trouble for!
As my brother so aptly pointed out this morning in a little silly banter we had going on...us girls want to be treated equal, but only when it's convenient for us. When it's easier to just be a "girl" we are perfectly happy being the weaker sex!
I can do ANYTHING my husband can do. Unless I need a jar opened...in which case his ass better get over here and open it for me. I mean honestly? I can engineer and design a beautiful room that will withstand hurricane force winds...but I can't open a mother F($)@#$ jar of spaghetti sauce? What is up with that? It's like God's way of saying "hahahaha...you girls keep right on thinking you're equal with your men...now why don't you open up some relish to serve on top of that delicious hot dog...oh, wait, just kidding! You totally can't do that!!"
We also demand that the toilet seat be put down. Why? Why do we get to leave it down, when that's obviously the exact opposite of how our male counterparts need it to be, but yet they have to make sure it's perfectly positioned for us when we go in there?
I am Sherah! I demand to be treated the same as all the guys! "Hey honey, can you grab that 400 pound dresser and move it to the other side of the room for me?"
EQUAL RIGHTS, EQUAL RIGHTS, EQUAL RIGHTS!! Ohh, shoot...there's only one chair, and there's two of us? Ooops...the gentlemanly thing to do would be to let the lady have a seat, now wouldn't it? Bless your heart! =)
Strange noise outside my house in the middle of the night? You can bet your ass that I'm not the one going out there to find out what it is.
Icky spider in my closet? Yeah...I'm not handling that one either.
Now, let me just clarify that I have ZERO intention of changing my ways. I will continue on being a "feminist"...but only when the toilet does not need to be plunged...in which case, I'm totally cool with being weaker.
It's the year 2012...the days of women belonging in the kitchen are long gone. We've worked hard to establish our equality, and that is something I'm damn proud of. Just because I work for a construction company doesn't mean I am a secretary...I know as much about building as all of my guys, and more than most of them.
My daughters can practically recite my entire "women must be independent of their men" speech by heart. They've heard it so many times that I'm pretty sure if I ever lost my place and needed help finishing it, they could take right over for me.
I am ALL in favor of women's equality. We should be treated the same. Paid the same. Respected the same.
Or should we?
ohhhhhhhhhhh...here comes the part i'm going to get in trouble for!
As my brother so aptly pointed out this morning in a little silly banter we had going on...us girls want to be treated equal, but only when it's convenient for us. When it's easier to just be a "girl" we are perfectly happy being the weaker sex!
I can do ANYTHING my husband can do. Unless I need a jar opened...in which case his ass better get over here and open it for me. I mean honestly? I can engineer and design a beautiful room that will withstand hurricane force winds...but I can't open a mother F($)@#$ jar of spaghetti sauce? What is up with that? It's like God's way of saying "hahahaha...you girls keep right on thinking you're equal with your men...now why don't you open up some relish to serve on top of that delicious hot dog...oh, wait, just kidding! You totally can't do that!!"
We also demand that the toilet seat be put down. Why? Why do we get to leave it down, when that's obviously the exact opposite of how our male counterparts need it to be, but yet they have to make sure it's perfectly positioned for us when we go in there?
I am Sherah! I demand to be treated the same as all the guys! "Hey honey, can you grab that 400 pound dresser and move it to the other side of the room for me?"
EQUAL RIGHTS, EQUAL RIGHTS, EQUAL RIGHTS!! Ohh, shoot...there's only one chair, and there's two of us? Ooops...the gentlemanly thing to do would be to let the lady have a seat, now wouldn't it? Bless your heart! =)
Strange noise outside my house in the middle of the night? You can bet your ass that I'm not the one going out there to find out what it is.
Icky spider in my closet? Yeah...I'm not handling that one either.
Now, let me just clarify that I have ZERO intention of changing my ways. I will continue on being a "feminist"...but only when the toilet does not need to be plunged...in which case, I'm totally cool with being weaker.
Parents who say "how do I talk to my kids?"...
I heard a caller on the radio this morning who kind of got me thinking...she was asking opinions on how to talk to her son about the Colorado movie theater shooting. Apparently she had been sheltering him from watching the news, etc because she didn't want him to hear about it, and then yesterday he went for a play date with friends, and heard about it at their house.
She said he came home asking her about it, and she didn't know how to talk to him about it.
How about talk to him honestly? Why do parents have such a hard time being truthful with their kids? It amazes me that so many parents try to deceive their children, but then are baffled when their kids lie to them. Kids do what they see their parents doing....that's pretty simple.
My son also asked me about the shooting...and no, it's not easy to have a conversation with your child that you know for a fact is going to chip away at a piece of their innocence. But, I would much rather be the one to have those convo's than let them hear things from other people, like this person experienced this weekend. The hard talks are always uncomfortable, and you do have to be cautious to only divulge as much information as their maturity level allows for, but I think there is a fine line between protecting them and just flat out being dishonest. And when they get older, they will look back and understand whether you were lying or just trying to protect them by only giving the amount of information that they could handle.
Our kids know if they ask us a question, they are going to get an honest answer. Sometimes, this makes for a great deal of comedy...like when my son asks questions about circumcision at the dinner table, while his sisters have friends sleeping over...or when he sees a box of tampons in my shopping cart and decides to ask (very loudly) what they are for in the middle of walmart.
In those embarrassing situations (although I gotta say, they embarrass the girls a whole lot more than they bother me. I find them funny most of the time...), I will sometimes tell him that this isn't an appropriate time and place for the conversation at hand, and to remind me later when it's just us so we can talk about it. But, I don't lie to him.
It just begs the question, how can we as parents expect our kids to do as we tell them and always approach us with honesty if we don't lead by example?
She said he came home asking her about it, and she didn't know how to talk to him about it.
How about talk to him honestly? Why do parents have such a hard time being truthful with their kids? It amazes me that so many parents try to deceive their children, but then are baffled when their kids lie to them. Kids do what they see their parents doing....that's pretty simple.
My son also asked me about the shooting...and no, it's not easy to have a conversation with your child that you know for a fact is going to chip away at a piece of their innocence. But, I would much rather be the one to have those convo's than let them hear things from other people, like this person experienced this weekend. The hard talks are always uncomfortable, and you do have to be cautious to only divulge as much information as their maturity level allows for, but I think there is a fine line between protecting them and just flat out being dishonest. And when they get older, they will look back and understand whether you were lying or just trying to protect them by only giving the amount of information that they could handle.
Our kids know if they ask us a question, they are going to get an honest answer. Sometimes, this makes for a great deal of comedy...like when my son asks questions about circumcision at the dinner table, while his sisters have friends sleeping over...or when he sees a box of tampons in my shopping cart and decides to ask (very loudly) what they are for in the middle of walmart.
In those embarrassing situations (although I gotta say, they embarrass the girls a whole lot more than they bother me. I find them funny most of the time...), I will sometimes tell him that this isn't an appropriate time and place for the conversation at hand, and to remind me later when it's just us so we can talk about it. But, I don't lie to him.
It just begs the question, how can we as parents expect our kids to do as we tell them and always approach us with honesty if we don't lead by example?
Saturday, July 21, 2012
Chopee's of the Day
That's right, plural. I've got more than one today.
First off...I want to get it out of the way that Jen from PeopleIWantToPunchInTheThroat.com is at the very top of my Chopee list. I hate her. I mean, really I flipping LOVE her. She is an incredibly funny woman...she makes me laugh hysterically, and the similarities between us are uncanny. But thats why she deserves a throat chop. Number one, the world really can't handle more than one of us, and I feel like she's stepping on my toes. And number two, an increasing number of people think that my Throat Chop is a copy cat of her Throat Punch...but those who know me, know that I was threatening to cause damage to random people's trachea long before I ever knew she existed. Seriously, you should check out her blog, it's awesome...just don't accuse me of stealing any of her crap. I didn't ask for her to be like me.
Second...the next mother-loving person who asks me when I'm going to have a baby is going to get it. Seriously. Some little old lady in my office this morning was all "how old are your kids, honey" which I HATE when people ask me that, because when I answer it is very evident that I am not old enough to be their mother, which then requires me to go on to the explanation that they are technically my step-children. I abhor the term "step-children"...so I really don't like it when I'm backed into a corner and have to call them that.
And then, after I say they are my step-kids, always comes the next question "well don't you want one of your own?!?!?!"
Of course I do. Because it is completely and totally incomprehensible that I might be happy with my life, and happy with my children just the way it is? My kids are almost grown, and are all pretty much independent of me. They have their own likes and dislikes, their own social lives, their own...everything. They are at the age where we get to be more like friends and less like they need us for every single waking moment of their lives. I am perfectly ok with never changing another diaper as long as I live. AND...as a bonus, my kids will all be grown and out of the house by the time I am 34 years old. Yeah...I'm pretty sure I'm ok with things just the way they are.
It just really flippin irritates me that people automatically make assumptions about others. What makes them not my own? The fact that we don't share DNA? That is the sole determining factor in a person either being a parent, or not being a parent? So I suppose that means all the people out there who have adopted children, they aren't really parents. My dad obviously isn't really my dad. My bio-mom's dad isn't her dad either.
When you think of it that way, there are a lot of poor kids out there who don't have any parents at all, since people who aren't blood related can't really be a parent.
No...I am damn tired of people misunderstand my life. I am not missing anything. Have I often yearned for the experience of pregnancy, and having an infant? Of course...I am a woman, that is what we are made for. But that doesn't make me any less appreciative of my family.
And my kid's aren't missing anything either. They have a rare thing going for them...they don't just have one mom. Or a mom and a step-mom. They have two mom's who would both lay down their life to protect them. We would both give anything to see them succeed and be happy in their life. We have both given and sacrificed of ourselves to give them the life that they deserve. No, they didn't come from my body...that is a bond that they share with their mom, and their mom alone. But that doesn't mean that I don't love them with every fiber of my being.
I don't understand why, after EIGHT YEARS, I am still having this argument and having to explain myself to people. I wish I was older, or looked older...because maybe then it wouldn't cause such a controversy when I say that my daughters are about to be 17 and 15 years old.
First off...I want to get it out of the way that Jen from PeopleIWantToPunchInTheThroat.com is at the very top of my Chopee list. I hate her. I mean, really I flipping LOVE her. She is an incredibly funny woman...she makes me laugh hysterically, and the similarities between us are uncanny. But thats why she deserves a throat chop. Number one, the world really can't handle more than one of us, and I feel like she's stepping on my toes. And number two, an increasing number of people think that my Throat Chop is a copy cat of her Throat Punch...but those who know me, know that I was threatening to cause damage to random people's trachea long before I ever knew she existed. Seriously, you should check out her blog, it's awesome...just don't accuse me of stealing any of her crap. I didn't ask for her to be like me.
Second...the next mother-loving person who asks me when I'm going to have a baby is going to get it. Seriously. Some little old lady in my office this morning was all "how old are your kids, honey" which I HATE when people ask me that, because when I answer it is very evident that I am not old enough to be their mother, which then requires me to go on to the explanation that they are technically my step-children. I abhor the term "step-children"...so I really don't like it when I'm backed into a corner and have to call them that.
And then, after I say they are my step-kids, always comes the next question "well don't you want one of your own?!?!?!"
Of course I do. Because it is completely and totally incomprehensible that I might be happy with my life, and happy with my children just the way it is? My kids are almost grown, and are all pretty much independent of me. They have their own likes and dislikes, their own social lives, their own...everything. They are at the age where we get to be more like friends and less like they need us for every single waking moment of their lives. I am perfectly ok with never changing another diaper as long as I live. AND...as a bonus, my kids will all be grown and out of the house by the time I am 34 years old. Yeah...I'm pretty sure I'm ok with things just the way they are.
It just really flippin irritates me that people automatically make assumptions about others. What makes them not my own? The fact that we don't share DNA? That is the sole determining factor in a person either being a parent, or not being a parent? So I suppose that means all the people out there who have adopted children, they aren't really parents. My dad obviously isn't really my dad. My bio-mom's dad isn't her dad either.
When you think of it that way, there are a lot of poor kids out there who don't have any parents at all, since people who aren't blood related can't really be a parent.
No...I am damn tired of people misunderstand my life. I am not missing anything. Have I often yearned for the experience of pregnancy, and having an infant? Of course...I am a woman, that is what we are made for. But that doesn't make me any less appreciative of my family.
And my kid's aren't missing anything either. They have a rare thing going for them...they don't just have one mom. Or a mom and a step-mom. They have two mom's who would both lay down their life to protect them. We would both give anything to see them succeed and be happy in their life. We have both given and sacrificed of ourselves to give them the life that they deserve. No, they didn't come from my body...that is a bond that they share with their mom, and their mom alone. But that doesn't mean that I don't love them with every fiber of my being.
I don't understand why, after EIGHT YEARS, I am still having this argument and having to explain myself to people. I wish I was older, or looked older...because maybe then it wouldn't cause such a controversy when I say that my daughters are about to be 17 and 15 years old.
Friday, July 20, 2012
Proof positive that God has a sense of humor.
Some of my friends who erroneously think that I am funny, have challenged me to start a blog. I don't expect that anyone will follow it, but I'll give it a shot anyway.
There's a few things you need to know about me:
There's a few things you need to know about me:
1) I suffer from a self-diagnosed disorder, which I have deemed to be called "OADD". (Obsessive-Attention-Deficit-Disorder, for those of you who don't know me well enough to understand.) When a new idea or opportunity presents itself to me, I pour 150% of myself into whatever it is...for about 3.5 seconds.
If my blog sucks, and reading it makes you want to stab yourself in the eye, this could be good thing for you. But on the off chance that it's exceptionally awesome, and you want more...you might be sorely disappointed, because there is a strong chance that one day I will wake up and decide I am bored with blogging, and never write another entry.
2) Most of the things I say offend someone, somewhere, somehow. I don't believe this requires any further explanation. If you have big girl panties, you might find me funny. If you're easily offended, I would recommend that you stop reading now before you get to #3, and see that I'm discussing my believe that God is responsible for all of the comedy in my life.
3) I strongly believe that God has an incredible sense of humor. If He didn't, funny crap wouldn't happen to me nearly as much as it does. I don't make up any of the ridiculous stories that my friends read on Facebook, which is what inspired them to tell me to start a blog. This shit really happens to me. I don't know why....but I feel like I struck the Life-Lottery. Take this guy for example:
If God didn't want me to laugh hysterically....why on earth would he place a guy on a motorcycle, wearing a hairpiece, directly in front of my vehicle? Do you know that I almost died when he took off from that intersection? Because when his hair flew off and landed on the street, I almost killed both him and myself because I hit the gas instead of the brake in my laughter induced stupor. It was one of the single greatest moments of my life.
Also....I'm not nearly as funny as people give me credit for. It's the people around me who will make you pee yourself. Literally....I have a cousin who once made me pee myself laughing. My kids are the source of most of my jokes...I don't know why my kids are so damn funny...they just are. I don't make up any of their quotes either. Their humor is all them... Further proof that God loves me I suppose.
Anyway...all that to say, welcome. Hope you like me, but if you don't, it's probably because you suck.
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