Don't Be an Ass

We are all asses.  There-- I said it.  You.  Me.  Your mom and dad.  The President.  Mother Teresa.  Your priest.  Your mail carrier.  Your favorite elementary school teacher.  You name it-- no matter who you come up with, they are all asses, too.  Now why in the world am I calling you and everyone you know an ass?  Well, you've heard the old adage "don't judge a book by its cover", haven't you?  It's an adage for a reason:  Everyone, and I mean everyone, is guilty of looking at another human being and making assumptions about them based on what they see.  And you know what happens when you assume...

Understood Rules

Yesterday was a horribly disagreeable day here on the Crazy Train.  The day started off rocky, and continued at a consistently bumpy cadence the rest of the day.  For whatever reason-- the alignment of the stars, the toss of the dice, the smell of the laundry hamper (your guess is as good as mine!)-- peace was not to be had between Princess and Birdie.

The civil unrest began shortly after breakfast, when I went out to get my morning exercise.  (We have a sidewalk loop right in front of our townhouse where I try walk a mile or two each morning.)  The girls declined my invitation to come out an play while I walked, stating that they were "in the middle of THE most awesome story show ever and didn't have time."  Whatever.  They were getting along nicely, so I let it go.

Twenty minutes into my walk, just as I was getting to the good part of the Harry Potter book I'm reading, Birdie came charging out the front door.  She let the whole neighborhood know that "Sissy tried to strangle me with her bare hands!  TWICE!"

Vicious, aren't they?  (borrowed image)

Great.  "So what did you do to cause that reaction, Birdie?"  Guess I'll finish my walk later.

"Uhhhhhh, nothing?!"  She said this like it was a question.  Which meant the answer was decidedly not "nothing".

To Be Seen Without

Welcome to the Wednesday Disability Blog Hop, which was started by Meriah at With A Little Moxie. I stumbled upon this hop via my friend Becca's blog, The Bates Motel, and if you haven't had the privilege of reading her work, you should stop by sometime.

Any hoo, Captain Kirk has posed this week's prompt for the Blog Hop...

...and here's what I have to say about that.


I have lived an extremely unusual life.  I can honestly say that in my 36 years of existence, I have never-- nope, not even once-- met a completely "abled" person.  Every single person I have ever met on this great planet we call Earth, has had some sort of disability or special need.  Yes, even you.

A Teachable Moment at the Redbox

Not my photo, not an advertisement

As I rolled out of the school parking lot this afternoon to head for home, I began looking forward to a quiet evening alone (after the girls were in bed, of course).  Just me and my goofy mutt, curled up on the couch watching tv sounded like a good plan-- until I realized I had very little on the DVR to keep me entertained.  Easy enough to fix, I thought.  I turned left instead of right at the light and headed into the Giant shopping center.  The grocery has two Redbox machines inside-- surely I could find something there to keep me mentally disengaged for the evening.

I'm wondering now why I couldn't have just been happy with Netflix for a change?

Can You Hear Me Now?

It is the bane of every mother's existence-- the question repeated a million times a day:  Did you hear me?  Sometimes it sounds more like "what did I just say to you?!" or "do I need to repeat myself?!"  No matter how you ask this question, it all boils down to the same idea-- IS ANYONE LISTENING TO ME IN THIS GODFORSAKEN PLACE!!!!!

If you have to ask, the answer is probably NO.

I not list-en-ing to yooooou!

Warning Labels

This being Princess and Birdie's third year at the same elementary school and fourth year in this neighborhood, I had mistakenly assumed that by now everyone around here kind of had an idea about how my girls tick.  Recent events have reminded me that there is always someone in any given situation that just isn't quite prepared for my little darlings.  Some people handle the surprises my children have in store for them with great aplomb and roll with the punches like pros.  Some people, I feel, get what they deserve when dealing with my kids (and it's sad that I find this humorous).  Most people, however, could benefit from some sort of warning label or quick-start guide to ease the pain of the learning-my-children curve.

Girl Scouts

Birdie & Princess at GS day camp

This week Girl Scouts of America celebrates its 100th birthday.  I thought it fitting that I talk about my experiences with Girl Scouts on this momentous occasion. 

I was a Girl Scout as a child and I have many happy memories associated with scouting.  We did lots of fun things that revolved around community service, learning to be self-sufficient, and exploring new experiences.  Scouting promoted an attitude of honor, curiosity, respect, leadership and commitment that I have taken with me into adulthood.  I came from a small town, so my troop's demographic was fairly homogenized, but I was exposed to a variety of personalities and I learned to appreciate the value of the differences that makes us who were are individually.  Girl Scouts definitely impacted me in a positive way.

The Truth About Consequences and Noodles

Discipline is absolutely my least favorite part of being a parent.  My heart races a little just thinking about it.  I never considered when I looked at my beautiful brand-new baby girls that eventually they would need discipline.  They both looked too perfect to ever do anything wrong, right?  Besides, my parents disciplined me a certain way, and it must have worked because I turned out okay (mostly).  Surely what worked for me would work for my kids.  Hah... The past seven years of trial and error have confirmed that I was just plain delusional-- ignorant even-- about discipline.  I discovered that I needed a new bag of tricks for my darlings, and sometimes I needed a different bag of tricks for each one!  Geez-- why couldn't this be easier?  I expected to just know what to do!  I was told by my mother that I would know what to do for my kids, but this felt like a big fat lie-- right up until I started figuring it all out.