I'm baaack....

Wow, it's been a long time since I've posted on here and my whole life is so different now than it was almost five years ago.

First of, I managed to lose a bunch of weight and am down to about 152, eight pounds less than my goal weight of 160.  I look pretty good, if I do say so myself.

I also got divorced in May of this year.  Kenin and I had a lot of good years but we also had a number of not great years so we separated in April, 2017.  Please don't shed any tears...  I didn't.  I'm very happy being on my own and have been enjoying the single life.

I've been dating a lot and have decided that I don't know that I'll ever be monogamous again.  I believe in love, but not necessarily that I'll find it again.  I don't mean that in a bad way, either.  On the plus side, I've been seeing someone for almost year now and I waffle back and forth between trying to decide if it's love (or could be at some point) but as of right now, it's just whatever it is.

I was fired from Dish earlier this year, but that was definitely a blessing in disguise because I never knew how miserable I was there until I left.  The said that I was termed due to poor performance but it was awfully suspicious when they didn't even tell my manager they were firing me and waited until a day he was off to do the deed.  I felt pretty vindicated when they appealed my unemployment and they lost.  It was particularly gratifying to hear my old manager say that when I was fired that I was meeting expectations.

Ashlyn and boyfriend are now Ashlyn and husband, which is pretty awesome.  It's been almost 9 years for them and while they haven't given me a grandchild yet, I do have a granddog, which is pretty cool.  But make no mistake, I'm still holding out for a human.

Jena is in the process of getting divorced and in addition to my three amazing grandsons, she's finally giving me a GRANDDAUGHTER in December.  All I have to say is that it's about damn time.

Patrick is living in Texas with his bio mom and is doing really well from what I hear.

Hunter has his own place here in Denver and is struggling with addiction, so please send him some good thoughts, light and love, especially since we just found out some life changing news.

Now that I'm back into this, I imagine it's going to go more in the direction of kind of a diary, so folks, it's no holds barred.  I didn't really hold back before, but now I'm REALLY not going to hold back.

there's nothing like joining facebook to make you feel old

Apparently the Augusta, Georgia, Westside High School class of 1987 turned out to be a little on the slack side. They're holding their 20th reunion in May, 2009, which is, um, yeah, a couple of years late. Now I certainly can't complain too much as my very own slack ass didn't even graduate from WHS, but you know me, always looking for a cause to champion/complain about. But enough of that, and on to the actual subject...

In the process of finding out about the 22nd year reunion, I was encouraged to join facebook.com as a way of keeping up with the info being distributed. And, upon doing so, I discovered I'd gotten old. But you know what the cool thing is about that? So has everyone else! There's maybe a few a handfull one or two or possibly three folks who look as good as they did when we were in HS. The thing about seeing people as they get older is that all the good looking ones, well, most of them just don't look so good anymore, and a pretty fair amount of the folks that were only so-so in high school are now pretty attractive, like they've grown into themselves. And then there are those for whom there wasn't any hope for in HS and they're still in that same condition today. And to make all those used-to-be-good-looking people I just offended feel better, feel free to tell yourself that I fall into this category.

And so many people chose different career paths than I'd expected they would, but some of them, I can totally see how they're in the job they have. In some cases it's like the super smart person in school is now the guy picking up your garbage and the guy you thought would be picking up your garbage is now a CEO. It's funny the paths our lives take. I couldn't even begin to tell you how I ended up where I am. But yet, here I am.

The other day I was trying to do a decent self portrait and after an hour I finally got 2 that were only 75% horrible instead of the usual 95% horrible, so I started doing post processing on them. While looking at the photos in high resolution, I saw things I hadn't really noticed before, like baggy eyelids, a quadruple chin (which is pretty much the en-tire reason I hate being in photos to begin with) and crows feet (not even feet actually, or even a single foot, more like just a really long toe) protruding (sounds like it's a wart or something, doesn't it?) from my left eye. How, I wondered, can this be the face - we're not even going to discuss the body - of someone who truly feels so young on the inside? And do you know what I discovered? It was my kids, 2 husbands, a lack of good judgement relationship and just plain ol' life that put them there. And you know what? I earned those puppies!

no more lost buddies for me

I just came across something that makes life so much easier for moms. And y'all know I don't just jump on the first bandwagon I come across, so don't go thinkin' I'm typing just to hear the keyboard click. Remember how I was about the brandy butter sauce? Well, this is just about as good, except bathing in it isn't an option.

My Lost Buddy is a website that offers patches - available in several cute designs - for your kids' stuff so that if it gets lost, you've got a better chance of getting it returned to you. You iron or sew the patch onto whatever particular item (what a great thing for coats and hoodies!) and if it gets lost or misplaced, all whoever finds it has to do is go to MyLostBuddy.com and type in the registration code and their contact info and waa-la (I'm fairly certain that's not how you spell that, but hey, some days you should just take what you can get)! Through the magic of technology, you're contacted that your item's been found. Now, how cool is that? I wish they'd had this when my monsters were little, but alas, that's not how it was.

You better believe I'm going to buy a whole mess of these for my currently gestating grandson. He's never going to lose his favorite blankie - at least not for very long!

a (few) day(s) late and a dollar short

I tried to post this last Monday, aka Labor Day or just one of the many days during the year in which I try really hard not to perform any labor, but I had 'puter problems. And as for not posting it any time within the last 5 days, well, let's just say I've had a life. So here it is...

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Okay, I (along with approximately 179 (at last count)other honest bloggers) mooched this meme from Rocks In My Dryer. Being Labor Day, it's about - you guessed it - labor.

++++++++++++++++++++

How long were your labors?
Ashlyn - 13 1/2 hours
Hunter - 6 hours

How did you know you were in labor?
Ash - I knew when massive back pains woke me up.
Hunter - When my eyes began rolling back into my skull at regular intervals.

Where did you deliver?
Hospitals both times. There's something to be said for modern medical care.

Drugs?
Ash - Absolutely! After I got the epidural, I felt nothing. It was the way science intended labor to be.
Hunter - Yes and no. I got an epidural and got one dose of meds but then Peanut's heartbeat dropped and my blood pressure dropped and they quickly decided that was going to be my one and only dose. After that, it was all natural. And very, very unpleasant. I think it happened because early in my labor I heard another woman screaming, and I made a comment that I was glad that wasn't going to be me since I was having an epidural. Apparently God thought otherwise.

C-section?
Nope, although if I'd had one with Hunter, I could've been on drugs.

Who delivered?
Doctors, absolutely fab-a-luss doctors.

it was supposed to be different

You know, I thought that when Patrick moved out, there'd be certain things in my life that would change. However, this is not what has actually happened. Instead, I've begun to notice some scary parallels that have convinced me that life really is a circle.

Patrick - Move your head, I can't see the TV.
Bella - Lay down, I can't see the TV.

Patrick - Stop looking at my food. You have your own!
Bella - Hey puppy dog eyes, your food is in your dish.

Patrick - I wish you'd quit following me everywhere. Some privacy would be nice.
Bella - Go away! I'd like to pee in peace.

Patrick - I get tired of having to keep one ear awake at night so I can make sure you're not out of bed.
Bella - Do you really have to pee now? It's 3 am.

the newest addition

Welcome to the family, Mac.

a new arrival

This morning I became an aunt again.

My brother, Jim, and his wife, Mary, are the proud parents of Mac Thomas, who entered into the world at 21" long and weighed in at 7 pounds, 14 ounces.

Congrats, love, hugs and kisses to Jim, Mary, and big brother, Will.

Thank You For Your Contribution

There've been few times in my life that I've been rendered speechless, but I'll be damned if one such time didn't happen tonight. It happened during dinner out with Pet, in a Mexican restaurant, which may or may not remain nameless, depending on how I feel at the end of this post.

Pet and I were at dinner this evening, a little girls night out, if you will, when I happened to glance off to my left (not too left, mostly in a diagonal direction), and I noticed that there was a Small Terror, jumping on the seat of the booth against the wall. (You know, that description doesn't quite do the scene justice, so let me try again.) The Small Terror, who was about 5 years old, was jumping as if he was on his very own trampoline that had accompanied him to the restaurant. My first thought, as it would be with any rational adult, was to look for the mother of Small Terror, and when I saw her seated on the outside of the booth, I realized I knew who she was, or at least her type - she was Oblivious Mom. Oblivious Mom was focused rather intently on her food, and I know this to be true, because she didn't even seem to notice when Large Terror, who looked to be about 8 years old, stood on the seat and climbed over her in order to get out of the booth.

I was amazed, I was astounded, and I was absolutely and totally traumatized when I realized that this person had not only procreated, but was inflicting her spawn on me and my dinner.

I suppose I shouldn't have been surprised when Small Terror ducked under the table and magically appeared on the other side of the booth, or when he literally (cross my heart, hope to die) placed one foot on the table and tried to climb on the wall of the restaurant. I know I should've expected Oblivious Mom to remain oblivious when Large Terror vaulted over the back of their booth and into the one behind them (which was empty only by the grace of God, I'm sure) so he could attempt to move/play with/destroy the terra cotta planter that rested on the shelf above (and I mean way, way above) the booth, but I didn't. I didn't think that Oblivious Mom would be such a disgrace to parenthood. I didn't honestly think that she'd forget that she had children (who, by this point, had morphed into Terrors) that she was responsible for, or that she had forgotten or just plain didn't know that she had been charged with the formation of the character of these small creatures. I truly didn't think she was such a dumb ass. But you know what? She was.

Now I won't go into how I think this woman is totally shirking her duty as a parent or how I was so incredibly incensed by the behavior of this woman's Terrors that I was this close to asking her why she thought it was okay for her children to act like this in public.

I don't know who she was or where she came from of if aliens had invaded her body and that's how she became oblivious in the first place. All I know is that if you are her, this is what I have to say: Thank you for contributing to the delinquency of America.

Something Truly Disturbing

Every great now and then, I stumble upon something so strange, so abnormal, so just plain screwed up, that I'm rendered practically speechless. It doesn't happen often, but there are occasions that I wonder if I - and all other fairly reasonable people - haven't been sucked into a black hole and have simply ceased to exist. And tonight was one of those occasions.

Pet (aka Ashlyn, the skinny mini size 2 that actually tries to gain weight) and I, at the tail end of the great search for Lean Cuisines and Weight Watchers frozen foods, ambled through our neighborhood grocery store toward the cash registers and made the mistake of doing so by way of the SEASONAL AISLE. I managed to avoid the perils of half price leftover Easter candy, - no small feat, let me tell you - but it was only because what I saw so disturbed me that even my unnatural fondness for sugar was forgotten.

I saw an Easter basket with a toy chainsaw in it! Now what damn idiot thought that up? What kind of fool puts a chainsaw, even a toy one, in an Easter Basket? Is it any wonder kids in America are so screwed up? That kids go around killing people? Don't you think that this is the way the Texas Chainsaw Massacre started? Those rednecks got chainsaws in their Easter baskets, I'm sure of it! That's the only plausible explanation.

Now, parent to parent, or parent to non-parent who buys for children, or what the hell ever you may or may not be, please just do me one favor, okay? Please don't buy the children in your life items that they can practice killing you with, especially if it's in a damn Easter Basket. That'd be just plain ol' bad parenting. And then I might have to hunt you down or something.

Another Day in Paradise

What's irritating Betsy the most today, you ask? Why, thank you for your concern. Sit back, relax (believe me, I'm stressed enough for all of us), and let me climb aboard the soapbox.

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Tuesday night the following email was sent to me from an administrator at my school (names have been omitted to protect the not-so-innocent):

I'm reading email and apparently there is some unsafe behavior going on in
some of our classes on some days. Because we are a Love and Logic school
this does not mean it isn't "so sad when you hurt another child" because there
are definite natural consequences that go with being unsafe in school. The
natural consequence of unsafe behavior is no participation with other
students for a while and a plan of action. We have ----- and I to help
facilitate a plan of action session with any child and he is happy to make sure
kids communicate this to their home - via a phone call. We are still
progressive here at ---. Parents are still our partners.

I sent home a kindergartner the other day, early. The child and I called
dad and said, "Oh, this is a bummer. School ends early since your child is
making it so other children are not safe." Dad came to pick him up.

Chaos is not Love and Logic. Kids recognizing that the expectation is the same - safety and respect is love and logic. If they chose to act differently, it's a
bummer because there is always natural consequences to face. Let ----- or
I help you. --- and -------- can help too! We are here to work with kids and, of course, we enjoy playing with them too.

Today, during PE, a 2nd grader put his hands around the neck of a classmate, in a choking action. This happened about 10 minutes after he had another classmate in (what looked to me to be) a headlock. While returning to class after PE, he punched a classmate for no reason. Less than an hour later, in another unprovoked attack, he hit another classmate. After losing 5 minutes of recess because of his earlier behavior, he continued to throw rocks after being warned not to and began swearing on the busy, packed playground. He was sent to the office for a 5 minute time out (his 2nd in 3 hours) where he almost tore a poster from the wall and then played with the miniblinds on the window. There was no call to mom or dad and no communication to them of his behavior other than a note that he "had a rough day".

Are you kidding me???

The reason this kid is still at school is because he has Down syndrome. He's very high functioning, but because he has Down's it's "okay" that he does all this and more. At least that's how the school district sees it.

Now, here's the other side of the coin: I have a 23 year old son with Down Syndrome. He's labled 'profoundly retarded' (yes, I know i said the "r" word) and is on about the level of a 36 month old child. When Patrick misbehaves, he knows there are consequences. He knows that if his behavior warrants it, he may get popped on the hand, he may have a favorite toy taken away, or he may get a spanking. The point is, my kid knows what behavior is acceptable and what is not, and he's WAY lower functioning than this other kid. This is not to say that Patrick is an angel all the time, because he isn't. But he damn sure knows that if he acts out, he will face the 'natural consequences'.

I'm so sick and tired of parents of special needs kids who make exceptions for their child's behavior because little Johnny 'doesn't know any better'. Give me a break! With few exceptions, yes, Johnny DOES know better, or is at least capable of knowing better if you choose to teach him. One of the most important things, if not THE most important thing, that a parent must teach ANY child is what is socially acceptable behavior. It's no more okay for Patrick to throw a temper tantrum than it is for my non-special needs kids to throw one. What is going to happen when that 2nd grader punches someone and the other kids punches him back because he or she is sick of getting hit? In my experience, many (if not the majority of ) special needs kids don't have the ability to navigate the gray area that the rest of us has. They don't understand that something is okay in this situation, but not in that situation. Things for them usually need to be either black or white, not somewhere in between.

I feel that the school (and this child's parents - but that's a whole other story) are doing less than the best for this child. And gawd knows I'm a less than perfect parent, but when that child is a teenager or an adult and is still going around doing this type of behavior, who will be to blame then?

To Be or Not To Be... Special

When Kenin and I were in Texas for Jena's wedding, we stayed with some close friends of ours, Larry and Sharon. The night before the wedding, we sat outside, talking. Somehow the conversation rolled around to the idea that we're considered by a fair amount of people to be "special" because of the things that we've gone through as parents or in some cases, simply because we choose to parent. (Sharon (Larry is hubby #2) lost her youngest son, Stuart, to leukemia when he was 8 years old, and we, of course, have Patrick.)

In a way, it's a little offensive to me that people think we're different from any other parents because I don't feel we are. We have the same hopes and dreams for our kids that you have for yours. Our expectations are the same as yours. We expect - and insist on - our children to be polite and respectful and to behave appropriately. It doesn't matter one whit to me if it's Ashlyn or Patrick or Hunter burping at the dinner table - they all know how to say "Excuse me", and they better do it. I absolutely know that one day Patrick will be on his own and will have his own life, just as any 'normal' person would. The only difference is that Patrick will be living in a group home instead of by himself. I saw Patrick dress in a tux and ride off in a limo to his high school prom. I watched him walk across the room, get his diploma, and shake hands with the principal of his high school. So far, Patrick's life is pretty much on par with most people his age. In so many ways he's like everyone else, and as far as I'm concerned, so are we.

The idea that we're somehow special or different because of our children is a bit foreign to me. Yeah, we've dealt with, and in some cases still deal with, things that most typical parents don't, but I don't think that makes us any better than anyone else. I think the comments that I hear the most often are "I don't know if I could do what you're doing", or "I don't know how you do it." Well, guys, you just kind of make due with whatever it is that's thrown your way. If you get stuck in traffic and are late to work, you don't quit your job because of it, do you? You just suck it up and deal with it, right? Now, I'm not saying that there aren't days that it doesn't just plain suck to be the parent of a developmentally disabled child, but there are just as many days that I don't want to be the parent of a "normal" child, either. And Sharon, she's lost her son altogether, so who am I to complain about my kids, aggravating as they can be?

Sharon told me that she'd asked God for a special child, and she'd gotten one, although Stuart's kind of special wasn't what she'd expected. Why did I 'get' Patrick? I don't know for sure. I know that he was part of the package when I married Kenin, but I imagine it was for reasons other than that. I think maybe God thought I should get into the 'family business' (my mom was a speech therapist, my cousin is a speech therapist, one of my mother's cousins is developmentally disabled, my aunt and uncle were foster parents for years and years, etc.) of giving and doing for others. Maybe He thought that I needed to learn patience, or to not be so selfish. Maybe it was because many years ago in The Nuthouse I was told that I was incapable of having empathy for others. Maybe I just drew the short straw. Who knows? And who really cares? This life is just what it is... mine.

School Begins

So today we started back to school. We being Hunter and I, he as a 5th grader and me as a 2nd year Severe Special Needs Paraprofessional. I was a little worried that he wasn't going to like his teacher because he'd been telling me all summer how a friend of his had gotten in trouble by her for running in the hall last year. That was no biggie to me because I spent half my time last year telling kids to QUIT RUNNING! in the halls. But Hunter doesn't think like an adult and after he nearly went ballistic on his teacher last year, I had understandable cause for concern. It turned out that he does like her and according to him, "she's strict, but in a good way." Now if we can just keep that sentiment beyond the first week of school...

Most of 'my' kids showed up today, except for one that's out of town for the next month and a new kindie that doesn't begin school until Wednesday. The kids were good, which was surprising, as our schedule for them was screwy being that it was just the first day. We tried to have them in class as much as possible today so they could get used to their new surroundings, and I think that was a good idea. One incident of note... I was told by Harry Potter (who last year wanted to marry me) that now he wants to marry Alice in Wonderland. I suppose it's for the best being that A) I'm already married, B) he's 29 years my junior (it may work in some circles, but not mine), and C) I don't think he can support me in the manner I wish to become accustomed to on just an SSI check every month. Oh well, he's still a cool kid.

Ah, to be 16 again!

Just a few differences between my daughter, Ashlyn, who turns 16 today, and myself, who was 16, some almost 22 years ago:

Ashlyn: Scared to death of driving and has no urge to even begin Drivers Ed or her state-mandated 50 hours of adult supervised driving; would much rather mooch rides from me, Kenin, her grandparents, friends, or her boyfriend. This girl will be right at home in the back of a limo should she ever be able to afford one.

Me: Although I was in the nut house on my 16th birthday, at the age of 14 (or was it 15?) I'd already 'borrowed' my parents car (and one belonging to a friend or two as well) and had driven with only my learners permit (and certainly no adult) all around the city of Augusta (GA) and the confines of Ft. Gordon. No, I never got caught by the cops, but feel the need to apologize to my brother, Tom, who got blamed for the time that I parked too close to the curb and ripped the air plug thing from the tire, resulting in the flattest tire ever seen in Kings Chapel Court.

Ashlyn: Has a FABALUSS relationship with her mother (AKA me), if I do say so myself. We talk about EVERYTHING, we bond (particularly over TV and food), and we hang out. She actually likes me, so I've decided to keep her. At least until she turns 18.

Me: Had a not-so-good relationship with my step-mom at the age of 16. Not-so-good is actually much better than my relationship with her prior to me being in the nut house. Don't get the idea that she was an evil stepmonster or anything, because she wasn't. I was just a butthead. The big turning point for me? When Ashlyn was born, my step-mom (now just known as MOM, 'cause she IS) accepted Ashy as her own grandchild. She's a great lady, and I love her bunches.

Ashlyn: Petite, skinny, and disgustingly shapely little stick of a child who eats, or grazes, all the time. I don't know who she got it from, 'cause I never looked like her when I was growing up, or even anytime after that. Ashy actually TRIES to gain weight if she goes below 105. How cool is that? Anorexia is NOT in her future. Her typical order from McDonalds (her favorite food place and where she works. Convenient, no?) is a Southwest Chicken Salad with extra dressing if you please, a Hot n' Spicy Chicken sandwich (or sammich, as we Southerners like to say) with extra lettuce and extra mayo, and a large strawberry shake. She complains her boobs are too small, but I keep telling her that at least they won't sag to her belly button when she gets older.

Me: An average sized child until about the age of 10 or so, I began to pack on the pounds after my mother died. I was a plump teenager (having the munchies during my druggie years prior to the nut house years didn't help much, either) and managed to become a plump adult. With the exception of a year before I got pregnant with Ashlyn and the year before I got pregnant with Hunter, I've always had a little extra skin hanging around. Since I can no longer have kids, I can't imagine I'll ever be slender again. Not that I'm complaining (much). I have to admit, Ashy definitely got her enjoyment of food from me.

Ashlyn: Works at McDonalds and actually LIKES it, and not just for the almost free food that she gets. She looked for a job for several months before she could find someone who would hire her, since she was only 15 at the time, and was thrilled to finally get hired. She worked her first Mickey D's birthday party last weekend, and her manager said that she wants her to do all the parties from now on. She's also training people, so she must be doing okay. I'm glad she likes it, but will most definitely have a fit if she were to become a manager. She also VOLUNTEERED to work this summer with me during the last week of ESY (Extended School Year, or summer school) with special needs kids. How many 15 year olds do you know that have been hired by the 2nd largest school district in Colorado to work with special needs kids? Do you not see how wonderful my daughter is?

Me: Although I was in the nut house at 16 (are you seeing the trend?), my first job was at the age of 15 and was at one of the Augusta-based chain of KFC-type restraunts called Wife Saver. They had good food, especially their shrimp, which you might not expect at a chicken place. But, alas, the shrimp and paychecks were not enough to keep me employed there for more than a couple of months. The lure of hanging out at the bowling alley (Of course, I didn't actually bowl. That would have been un-cool.) and smoking on the steps of the skating rink with my so-called friends was too much. I was too lazy to want to work, and would have most certainly killed any children that came in for a birthday party had they offered that as an option.

So, as you can see, Ashlyn is an incredible young lady. She is the light of my life and I'm so proud that she is so much like me, but so much not like me, too. I love her more than anything, and hope that all parents are lucky enough to enjoy their own children as much as I enjoy mine. Ashlyn, you rock.

The Difference Between Absent and Gone

I really dislike people. Not all people, mind you, but a good many of them.

I work as a paraprofessional with severe special needs kids in my local school district, and one of my co-workers is a prime example of why I'd just rather not deal with folks. The Petty Miss M is just that, petty. Because we have to do a fair amount of diaper changing, our school is reimbursed by medicaid, but we have to make sure we document it so we can get paid. On the wall of the bathroom in our classroom, we have a list that we fill out with the date, who changed our kiddos, etc. One morning, when one of our kids was not at school, I wrote that he was 'absent'. A few hours later, I ventured into the bathroom and discovered that our young man was no longer absent, he was just plain 'GONE'. And he was not only GONE, but he was GONE via a bright purple marker. Because being absent in black ballpoint ink is no where near the same as being GONE in purple marker. I didn't know that. I THOUGHT absent was sufficient, but apparently I was mistaken.

I know that it's a bit childish to get upset about what happened. I will even go so far as to say that it's petty. But that's the whole thing that pisses me off, is the fact that Petty Miss M was just so damn petty to begin with. I hashed it out with one of my very favorite co-workers ever and decided to get over it. At least THAT time I did. I even managed to handle it when it happened a second time. But by the third time, I just couldn't restrain myself any longer. I stooped to her level and though I'm not proud of it, I will sing to the heavens because it felt SO GOOD to write ABSENT in big, bold, black sharpie. Aha! I won!

Wal-Mart, America's New Babysitter

Kenin and I were at our favorite store, Wal-Mart, on Saturday, with Patrick and Hunter in tow. Hunter's birthday is next Saturday (send presents), so we decided to peruse the electronics section so that he could pick out which video game he wanted as a present from us when, lo and behold, we came upon a truly sad sight... the video game aisle.

Apparently, this area of the store has now been designated as the babysitting area for unruly children of Wal-Mart shoppers. There must have been 6 or 7 kids under the age of 8 screaming, yelling, and pushing each other around in order to get to play the video game demos. As I looked around, I realized the only people within an aisle on either side of where we were that were over the age of 12, were Patrick, Kenin and myself. There wasn't a parent, or even an older sibling, in sight. Even the people that worked in that area refused to come near the video games! Horrified that people might think some of those brats (there just isn't any other word that will accurately describe them) actually belonged to me, I wanted to run quickly to the nearest section of the store that hadn't been taken over by evil troll munchkins. Unfortunately, Hunter really wanted that video game so we were stuck there, at least until one of the employees retrieved the video game from it's locked cabinet and saved us from the flames of hell. A small Asian boy who couldn't have been more than 3 years old, was by far the worst of the bunch. He screamed and yelled at the top of his voice (even louder than me, and I have a really big mouth) every time his older sister, who still had her baby teeth so you know she wasn't older than 6 or so, got to take her turn at the game they were playing. If they'd have been my kids (and obviously they weren't because I have better sense than to leave my kids in the electronics section while I roam the rest of the store in relative peace and quiet), I'd have snatched a knot in their asses right there on the spot, in front of God and everybody. And I bet I'd get a standing ovation for doing it, too.

As we stood there completely appalled by the group of parent-less children, waiting to be rescued by an employee who actually did his or her job, I noticed a man in his early to mid 30's walk up with who I assume was his daughter, a girl of about 10. They stood next to us, trying to decide which game to purchase and attempting, though not succeeding, to ignore the screaming 3 year old beside them. Finally, after 4 or 5 minutes that I know seemed more like an eternity in purgatory, the man could no longer contain his disdain for the situation. "Let's go," he told his daughter in an obviously aggravated voice. "This is ridiculous." Kudos to him for walking away and depriving Wal-Mart of a video game sale. I wish Hunter would've handled that situation with as much grace as the girl did so that we could've walked away as well.

So what's up with the parents of today? I'd have probably wanted to dump my kids off, too, if they acted that badly, but then again, my kids know better than to act like Satan's spawn, at least in public. And what's up with Wal-Mart's management that they allow this to happen? Or, even worse, to allow it to continue to happen? You know we didn't just come upon a random event. That stuff probably happens every weekend, and we've just been lucky enough to bypass that area of the store.

And of course, the tale doesn't end when we walked out of the electronics section, either. As we meandered through the paper products, there was a woman (I won't call her a lady, because my Momma taught me at the age of six that there is a huge difference between a lady and a woman) with 2 boys/men that looked to be in their late teens or early 20's. The woman was pushing the cart, which had a big bag of chips, laying on top, when one of the boys decided to toss a pack of toilet paper into the basket. Now, as I'm sure you know, toilet paper can be found in all kinds of sizes. You can get a single roll, a 4-pack, and 12-pack, or even a 24-pack of double roll (our personal favorite) toilet paper. So anyway... the above mentioned young man tosses the BIGGEST pack of paper he can find right into the basket onto the bag of chips. POP! Do you know what that sound was? It was the air being pushed out of the bag of chips as it ripped open because 50 pounds of toilet paper just landed on top of it. What an idiot, I thought. But no, it still wasn't over! The woman then reached into the cart, grabbed the bag of chips, and layed them on the top of a stack of toilet paper and walked off, pushing her cart, oblivious to the fact that she just announced to the world that she was just plain ol' low class. Now, I'm not a snob. Everyone who knows me knows that I'm more proud of my redneck roots than should be allowed by law. And I know that everyone out there has put stuff back on a shelf where it didn't belong at one time or another, right? If you say you haven't then you're lying, because everyone's done it at least once. But tell the truth brothers and sisters, didn't you look around first, just to make sure no one saw you do it? Well, of course you did! And the fact that this woman didn't, just galls me to no end. I swear, some people...

Reflections on Kids and Parenting

Yesterday I spent the day just hanging out with Boogie (aka Ashlyn) watching the tube and being goofy. I feel like we have a pretty good relationship considering she's a teenager. When I was her age, I didn't want a thing to do with my parents and only thought they'd been put on earth to embarrass and bug me. I don't know how typical that is, but that was me (yes, I was a pretty screwed up kid). Ash and I make it a point to spend time together, usually bonding over episodes of Gilmore Girls, shopping, or going out to eat. Ash actually hangs out with me and Kenin in the evenings, talking and watching the tube! I'd have NEVER done that, even if you'd have paid me, so I know I have a decent kid on my hands. Yeah, she gets in trouble some, but what kid doesn't? I look back at the way I was, and she's so much like me, but so different at the same time. I admire the hell out of her. She's her own person and doesn't care what other people say or think. She's not the Follower I was, always trying to fit in somewhere, anywhere, and always with people who used me. I'm proud of her. Speaking of parenting... I have become my parents. Well, not totally, but to a point. As a kid you think your parents are dumb as a box of hair, right? Well, the older you get - especially once you have kiddos of your own - you realize that they weren't so bad after all. My kids have almost every single rule that I had (granted, I broke them all) when I was growing up. I open my mouth and hear my parents voice coming out and sometimes it just astounds me that I was such a complete idiot as a kid. Just like my parents told me, I tell my kids "When you have a child of your own, you'll understand why I do and say the things I do." And you know what? They will. I think the biggest difference between my parenting style and that of my own parents is that I joke and kid and play around with my kids a lot. They know I'm the boss, but Kenin and I act like kids, too, sometimes. We're very open with the kids about things, and they know almost all of those deep, dark secrets of my life. My kids know I got in a lot of trouble growing up, that I was in the nut house for a while as a teen, and that there were a number of things that I did that they should never do. Since the kids were toddlers, I've drilled into them that they must graduate from high school, go to college, get married and THEN have a baby. I want so much more for them than what I had. My teenage and early adult years could've been really good, but I made a lot of mistakes that I don't want to see them repeat. They're good kids, and I want the best for them.