So why is it that rude, vitriolic, hurtful, offensive comments get a complete pass when they are directed at conservative, white, Christian people, but when the target is ANY OTHER demographic, they are the source of huge reaction, offense, and trips to the verbal woodshed? Honestly, the target of insults hardly matters in defining whether or not something is better left unsaid, and perhaps if the conveyors of such verbal vitriol lived by principle rather than moral relativism (or feelings), then they would think twice before insulting anyone, even the most “acceptable” of targets. It’s the double standard that galls the most, because that duplicity is what causes decent people to be personally & professionally eviscerated and left on the ash heap of what once was a good life.
To repeat a Facebook status update I wrote recently, if I read with the voraciousness of Pat Conroy, I would finally be satisfied that I might at last, in the declining years of my life, be well read. Not to mention that I would have amassed an impressive vocabulary.
I have watched and listened in quiet amazement at how my sweet 5-year-old son has grown and changed during this first year of school for him. Kindergarten has been the source for a blossoming in him this year the likes of which I have not seen up to now in his short life. His personality has flourished in ways I could not have foreseen, and he has grown into a boy more comfortable in his own skin that I have ever been in mine. He is gregarious and friendly, kind and compassionate, and he has a sense of humor that can leave anyone – adult or child – in gales of joyous laughter. He can turn a phrase that will slay you with it’s unintentional hilarity, spontaneous sweetness, or (let’s face it) excruciating stubbornness. He’s dreamy and imaginative. He sings and dances. He still happy dances when the smallest of things please him. He brings joy and laughter daily to those he encounters. He is the class clown. What a fun and funny life he will have, if the inhibitions of adulthood do not leash him too tightly.
I am inspired by my friend Reema, who discovered long ago that writing was a solace for her soul. It is her encouragement (and her interest in reading about me) that pushed me to finally blog. Satisfying to write about all manner of things? Sure. Gratifying to have others read it and react to it? A thousand times, YES! So thank you, Reema, for the virtual kick in the pants. 🙂
I imagine that any mom of small(ish) children will relate when I say that my brain in overstuffed with the various music and minutiae of children’s television programming. The fact that I remember the words to the music (and some of the dialog) for Clifford the Big Red Dog, Wonder Pets, Wow Wow Wubbzy, The Land Before Time, Toy Story, Curious George, Ice Age, Dinosaur Train………I could go on & on, is a sure sign that 1) I am the mom of a young’un, and 2) We’ve probably watched way to much kid’s programming. In fact, the fact that I seem to know this trivia better than that which is more age appropriate (for me) says something about who is the priority in our house. Maybe that’s a good thing. Wow, wow, Wubbzy. Wubbzy, Wubbzy, wow, wow!!
I’ve had a mission the past 2-3 years to become more well read in the literary classics. There are woefully huge deficiencies in my knowledge of classics that would embarrass me somewhat were it not for the fact that I have always read something…constantly. Ever since my husband introduced to me the joys of audiobooks, which I confess to have scorned in years past, I am NEVER without a book in my car, on my laptop, iPad or iPod. It’s better than music for making time fly by (especially when I’m working out), and it is a brilliant way to enjoy the classics…especially the long, dense ones. So if you’re a reader, try it out. If you’re not, try it out. And if you’re road tripping, definitely try it out. Let the audiobook section of your library become your new best friend. <– There, my obligatory book mention…in fact, my second mention. So crazy!! 🙂
Do you have a favorite word? I do. It’s zaftig. Look it up.
What about a favorite curse word? I have that, too, but I can’t write it here…or ever. It’s impressively versatile, though.
Miss, miss, miss my girlfriends who are a couple thousand miles away from me now. I don’t think you realize until you move away from a place just how much the regular face time you have with friends rejuvenates your whole being. I love that Facebook is available. I love that I can email…and blog…and call for free on Skype or my cell. But it is not the same. Not at all. And as much of a talker as I am (and I AM), I am much less a phone person than I used to be…enough so that I neglect that important connection point. I hate that I do that, because talking to my friends more than just once in a while would ease that part of me that misses them. It would also assuage the guilt I feel for having neglected that area of our friendship. There is no excuse for it…none…and I have only myself to excoriate for it. I need to do better…a lot better…starting tonight.
We want another child. There, I said it. Prayers in that regard are appreciated more than I know how to articulate here.
There is a constant and consistent chatter in my head…all the time…that seeks to convince me of my lack of ability to parent properly, and further, that anything that is wrong with me, my family, or my child is my fault and mine alone. I fight against this daily, because to do otherwise would leave me mentally, emotionally and spiritually debilitated. Thank you, God, that you are able to block my ears from such destructive thoughts. Help me cleave to you constantly so I do not destroy myself.