Remember the Victims, Not the Violators

Yesterday, the world witnessed yet another senseless act of violence in the mass shooting carried out at Sandy Hook Elementary School in Newtown, Connecticut.  I first began to see the news on the event while I was working at the public middle school where I am employed, and when I came home later yesterday evening, I found myself unable to watch the details unfold on the nightly news.  It wasn't only that I didn't want my own young son to hear the words "children dead" or "teachers killed" spoken repeatedly on the broadcast—although that was certainly a factor—I just could watch the video clips being shown over and over with both moving and still images of children running away from their school, crying and terrified, or parents being tearfully reunited with surviving children or being comforted upon discovery that their children had not been spared.  It is terrible.  It is heartbreaking.  It is horrific.  And I cannot begin to imagine the devastation of that community.

Unfortunately, these types of incidents continue.  I don't know what the solution is.  Is it more gun control?  More investment in identifying and treating mentally unstable people?  Arming school faculties?  More security at schools?  More religion?  Less press coverage?  All of these have been bandied about on the news after each terrible act of violence carried out against innocent people over the last several decades.  But to tell the truth, I don't know, and I don't profess to have the answers.  I don't think that I can find a perfect solution for senselessness.

Red Leaves of Autumn

© Les Taylor Photo (Thanks, Leslie!)

What exactly would be the seasonal opposite of "Spring has Sprung"?  I'm not sure what cute name it would be given, but I saw a lovely example of it today.  See, here in the South we have relatively mild falls and winters, and many of our trees never do the color change routine that is so common to places farther north.  To see a tree in full fall "bloom" is somewhat of a rarity here.

It rained—well, drizzled—for most of the day today. There was very little blue sky, and what did show was in little bits that were quickly swallowed up again with more dark clouds.

Shortly before our school dismissed today, the rain finally let up in that part of town.  As I was loading my bags into my car to head home, I glanced over at a tree in the center median of the faculty parking lot, and immediately wished I had had my camera in my purse.  There, in the parking lot of the school, one of our small and normally-green trees had burst into a full coat of red leaves for fall.  I took a picture with my phone, the only camera I had available, and wanted to share it here along with a poem I discovered a few years ago!

Useful Lessons I learned In Church

For the most part, I don't really give much thought to the time I spent in church as a child.  I can't honestly say that I have more than a handful of good memories from my church-going days, and I'm certain that the many bad memories outweigh the few good ones.  (Although, I fully admit that much of this may be due to the fact that I was an all-around miserable child most of the time back then.)

While the overall church experience didn't leave me with any warm fuzzy feelings, I can say that I did learn some practical life lessons there, and I've decided to share them here tonight.

1.  Church taught me that no group of people, no matter what sort of people make up the group, is free from cliques and rude people.  In fact, I can say with absolute certainty that the meanest, cruelest, most unkind people I ever encountered were people I met in church.  This fact has no age limit and knows no gender bias.

2.  Church taught me that there will always be leaders and followers.  Not all leaders deserve to be followed.  If you are a follower, choose carefully who you will follow, as allowing yourself to be led down the wrong path is still your own fault.

3.  Church taught me that many people never look beyond the outside of an issue.  Because of this, one can often create an illusion to satisfy others with only one quarter the work it would take to create a new reality in the place of the illusion.  People like to believe that everything is as it appears at first glance.

Bumper Stickers 2012

People who know me know that I have long been a fan of bumper stickers.  I last blogged about my bumper stickers back in September of 2010 in this post.  Back then, I was still driving my Nissan Sentra.  Sadly, courtesy of a lady (not myself) who decided to run a red light, that poor little Sentra ended up like this just 6 weeks later:

These days, I'm driving an '02 Chrysler Voyager, and it has a whole new collection of it's own stickers that get a great deal of attention.  When stickers get old, they are rotated out for new ones.  A few of the current stickers are almost ready to be replaced, so I thought I'd document the current collection before making any changes.  And I decided to show them off to my readers!  Take a look!

The Paternity of Edward

While I realize that the Twilight series is wildly popular, I can say that it is hands-down the most ridiculous book I have ever attempted to read.  It is so ridiculous that I refuse to force myself to see the movies.  However, in light of the newest (final?) movie's release and current popularity, here's a funny things that makes me giggle.

Conflicted Former Ticket: Romney & Ryan Offer Different Views on Election Loss

It's been slightly less than two weeks since the election that saw the incumbent Obama/Biden Presidential ticket win reelection over the challenging Romney/Ryan ticket, and already the vast differences between Romney's and Ryan's views on the causes of their loss are rearing their heads.  Much to my surprise, I find that Ryan, although I still don't agree with his politics, is not the scary Palin-like monster I was afraid he would be.

Paul Ryan has openly said that Obama's campaign "did a better job of getting the voters to the polls" and ultimately "won fair and square," according to the Journal Times.*

Meanwhile, Mitt Romney is quickly receiving criticism from all sides over his recently heard comments where be basically said that Obama only won because he gave "gifts" to minority groups.

On November 14th, Romney spoke to a group of donors, saying, "It’s a proven political strategy, which is, give a bunch of money from the government to a group and guess what? They vote for you."†  In the few short days since that statement, Romney has been hemorrhaging political allies as more and more noticeably distance themselves from his viewpoint.

Gay Men: Marrying the CRAP Out of Your Girlfriends

While my last post has taken off and gotten a lot of attention—both good and bad—I have realized that I'm due for a post with a bit of humor.  Too many people get unnecessarily and overly emotional about political matters, taking every differing opinion as a personal attack.

So, when I saw this posted on Facebook earlier, I decided it was exactly the spot of levity I needed tonight.

I have retrieved this video from the comedy section of the Huffington Post website [link here, opens in new window] where they had this to say about it:

"There may have been gay rights victories in Maine, Maryland, Washington and Minnesota this past election, but there are still states out there doing their best to keep couples from getting married.

For those states, the men of College Humor have an ultimatum: Let them get hitched, or they'll bite the bullet and start marrying your girlfriends.

They have a pretty solid case, guys."

Of course, it's well known that I already support same sex marriage.  This video, however, is pure comedic gold!

CollegeHumor's Favorite Funny Videos

Secession?

Earlier this evening, my friend, Tashina, posted a link on Facebook that took me to a petition being started on the official White House website, where people were signing a request to allow the state of Louisiana to peacefully secede from the United States and form their own country.  As I viewed the one-level-up home page of the petitions area of the site [click here, link opens in new window], I saw that there are identical petitions begun for many other states as well, including Florida!  Let me assure you, I have no interest at all in seceding and would find a way to move "back" into the Union if Florida ever did somehow secede.

It seems ridiculous to me how many people cause an uproar when an election doesn't go their way.  However, I don't remember hearing about hordes of "blue" states threatening secession when George W. was elected to a second term.  Whether you like it or not, President Obama won his reelection fair and square, taking the majority of both the popular and electoral votes.  More than half the people who voted chose to vote for this man, and those who chose not to vote at all forfeited their say-so in the matter.  So, folks, it's time to quit whining and get on with the business of finding productive solutions to the problems our nation currently faces.

Quite honestly, I have a feeling that those states would not really choose to secede if given the choice.  The costs would be too great, and they would just be hurting themselves.  As of writing this, these are the current states which have had a petition started on their behalf: North Dakota, New Jersey, Colorado, Oregon, Montana, Indiana, Mississippi, Georgia (although whoever stared that petition forgot to use a capital "G"), Kentucky, Florida, North Carolina, New York, Alabama, Texas, & Louisiana.

Here are things that I believe should be required of any state that wishes to secede.....

Just Because.....

Earlier this evening I read a wonderfully unapologetic rant, and I wanted to share it here.  I can say that it mirrors many of my own feelings these days, which is why I wanted to share it.  It was written by someone as fed up as I am with being negatively stereotyped.

[Some of the language contained within is not the sort of stuff I usually post on this blog.  I have semi-censored some of the text, but you'll still be able to tell what the original words were.]

==========================================================

I'm a woman and I'm fat.

After you stop gasping in horror, grow the f*ck up and deal with it. You don't buy my food, my clothes, nor do you fill my car with gas so piss on your self-righteous indignation. I pay for my own health care so stop trying to blame me for your rising insurance premiums. I'm tired of hearing your false platitudes about how I should lose weight for my health. Stop ASSuming I don't eat healthy food and exercise just because I'm fat. While you're at it, stop ASSuming thin people are always healthy too.

If you don't like the way I look stop whining; do the adult thing and simply look away. Contrary to what you've been told, I don't have an unspoken obligation to please your eyes. And for your information I bathe at least once a day during the Winter, and twice a day during the Summer so stop curling your nose up. The only thing that stinks around here is your putrid attitude. Screwing your face up like that only makes me look even better because baring your teeth in disgust makes you look like a rabid hairless chihuahua.

No, I don't hate skinny b*tches. All true b*tches are worthy of respect. It's superficial skinny c*nts I can't stand, right along side superficial fat f*cks. Just because I'm fat doesn't mean I have to listen to you whine about your eating disorder to prove I am not prejudiced against thin people. I have my own eating habits to keep in check without being burdened by someone else's deliberate food fuck ups. I'm fat, not a professional sympathizer for the self-labeled "pretty people" who throw up, starve, snort coke, or do whatever stupid things to stay thin. I'm not anti-thin, I'm anti-enabling people to act stupid without criticism.

Being fat doesn't mean I have to prove my worth by nurturing everyone; including every professional victim and f*ckwit that thinks my precious time should be spent listening to their complaints of the unfairness of the Universe. Just because I'm fat it doesn't mean I drop everything I'm doing right then and there because you feel entitled to consolation on my big fat boobs. My big fat boobs aren't nearly big enough to console all the sh*theads of the world, so space is exclusively reserved for the people who really do deserve my sympathy.

And The Winners Are.....

Barack Obama & Joe Biden!

As the numbers come in, it it becoming evident that the Obama/Biden ticket has won both the popular vote and enough states to secure the electoral vote as well.  The last numbers I saw had them with a 303 electoral votes to Romney/Ryan's 206, and a 2½ million vote advantage in the popular vote.  Of course, there are ballots yet to be counted, but I don't see any way Romney/Ryan could win this now.

4 More Years:

Yes We Did!

Update Sunday, 11/11/12: As of yesterday afternoon, Florida has been officially called for Obama as well, putting him at 332 electoral votes.  He won the popular vote in Florida with 50% of the vote to Romney's 49.1%, a margin of roughly 74,000 votes.

Our Election Day Adventures

At 7a.m. On the dot this morning, Kaleb and I left home heading for my polling location roughly a half-mile from the house. When we arrived at 7:03, we almost couldn't find a parking spot! Having voted at this same location numerous times before and having never seen more than 3 or 4 voters there at any one time, I was totally unprepared for the crowd. We pulled into a spot after waiting for another voter to vacate, and climbed out to join the line outside the polling place (St. Andrew's United Methodist Church on Michigan Ave.). Kaleb pulled the hood of his jacket onto his head and over his ears, and stood excitedly beside me in line as we waited for our turn, 15 minutes in the line outside and then another 10 minutes in line on the inside of the building.

During the entire wait, Kaleb was on his better-than-best behavior. I'd been coaching him for days on what to expect when we went to vote and what behaviors were and were not acceptable at the polling place. We had added new words to his vocabulary: polls, ballot, election, vote. I had told him over and over how important it is for grown-ups to vote, and how important it is for kids to learn about voting so that they know what to do when they get to be grown-ups. Kaleb had learned the names of some of the bigger candidates, and has been watching the news with me over the last few weeks. He has been asking intelligent questions (relative to his age) about the candidates and how voting works. As someone who takes a real interest in politics, it makes me proud to see Kaleb so interested. I honestly think he knows more about the voting process, at this point, than many of my middle school students!

We finally made it to the front of the line and the check-in table. I presented my voter card and my driver's license to the lady at the table, and Kaleb handed her his photo ID as well (it's actually his emergency info card). Everyone giggled a bit, and Kaleb beamed from ear to ear, feeling very grown up. The lady made a show of finding “us” in the book and having me sign the register. She handed me our slip to take to the next table and have our ballot issued. This time, there was no line, and we were able to hand the ballot issue slip right over to the lady at that table. She handed me my ballot, and went over the basics, as I suppose they are required to do with everyone. She then handed Kaleb a sample ballot (the kind that shows you how to shade in your selections), and we stepped away toward the voting area.

Hometown Happiness: Blue Angels Homecoming Air Show

On November 12, 2011, Dad and I took Kaleb to the Blue Angels Homecoming Air Show at Naval Air Station Pensacola.  I had seen the Blues in the air practicing plenty of times, having grown up here in Pensacola, but it was only the second time I had attended an official performance.

At last year's show Kaleb managed to take a 45-minute nap on the ground (see photo, left)—surrounded by thousands of strangers, 50 feet from a crazy-loud speaker tower, in the bright sunlight, with the roar of various aircraft directly overhead.  It was amazing, and baffling, to discover that anyone could sleep in such a noisy, chaotic environment.  We all had fun, though, and Kaleb still remembered last year's show vividly when I began talking about attending the show again this year.  In fact, he spent plenty of time over the past two weeks talking about the Blue Angels to anyone who would listen.  It was clear he has been excited.

This year, I was afraid there would be no nap happening at the show, and I hoped that Kaleb would stay interested.  We had thought ahead and had remembered to bring along a blanket to sit on this time, and the weather was much warmer than last year.  After a bit of walking and looking a some of the static aircraft displays, we picked out a patch of grass, spread out our blanket and sat down to watch the early acts.

It was a very sunny day, and I was glad that we had all sunblocked before leaving the house.  I had brought along Kaleb's hat, but hadn't considered how I would handle the bright sunlight myself.  As someone who neither owns nor wears sunglasses and hats, this just isn't something that often comes to mind for me.  During the course of the show, we ended up having to buy a hat for me, just so that I could keep my eyes open long enough to see the show!

Women Who Want Equality But Won't Live It

To my fellow American women:  If you're going to keep demanding equality, it's time you start living it!

Let's face facts:  It's simply not fair for us, as modern American women, to demand chivalry and equality.  The two are almost entirely contradictory.  You cannot expect a man to think of you as strong when you cry out for help every time you are faced with a task that requires a tiny bit of grit.  You cannot expect a man to think of you as independent if you get visibly offended when he doesn't open the door for you.  You cannot expect a man to respect your employment income when you constantly assume it is his responsibility to pay for everything, on every date, regardless of how long you have been together.

If you want to be treated as equal to a man, then act as if you are equal.  If you play the part of the "weaker sex," you deserve to be treated as a weaker person.

Most often, I think about this when I hear about incidents of domestic violence.  I am not talking about those sad occasions when one person in a relationship is abusive toward the other, unprovoked.  That's wrong, regardless of who is the abuser.  Rather, I'm talking about those times when a woman hits, punches, or abuses her male partner and then has him arrested for assault & battery when he fights back.  Really?  How is that at all fair?

Ladies, it is no longer acceptable—really, never has been, in my opinion—for you to think that you can be physically violent toward a man and then expect to hide behind your femininity as protection from retaliation.  If you are tough enough to hit a man, then you better make sure you are also tough enough to take the hit-back.

In the end, I think that most of the focus of "Womens' Liberation" has been focused in the wrong direction.  We have come a long way toward equality, and we should continue to press onward toward full equality with men.  Along the way, however, I think we ought to be kind enough to liberate men from the unfair double standards of an outdated system of chivalry and "kept" women.

The Faces of American Presidential Hopefuls

As I've said before, I'm already certain who I'll be voting for in the November elections.  However, I got curious about who the "lesser" party candidates were, so I pulled up my sample ballot to have a look.  I know the options might vary some from state to state, but here are the 12 options available to me in the 2012 Presidential race (V.P. candidates not included).

Barack Obama
Incumbent POTUS (Democrat)

Mitt Romney
Republican

Mike Rowe Testifies about the Need for Skilled Labor

Plenty of people know who Mike Rowe is.  For those who don't, Mike Rowe is the host of a television show on the Discovery Channel called Dirty Jobs, on which Rowe travels around the country highlighting and testing out different "dirty" professions.  Episodes have included him trying his hand at plumbing, farming, construction, fishing, and many other jobs.

In May of 2011, Rowe testified before the U.S. Senate.  I only just now learned of this and read an article on his testimony.  He had some good things to say, and I want to share a bulk of it here.

==============================

Testimony of Mike Rowe
Creator, Executive Producer and Host, Dirty Jobs

Mike Rowe's Testimony Before the U.S. Senate Committee on Commerce, Science and Transportation
May 11, 2011

"Chairman Rockefeller, Ranking Member Hutchison and members of this committee, my name is Mike Rowe, and I want to thank you all very much for the opportunity to testify before you today.

Jazzing Up Presidential Debates

Did you think the Presidential and Vice-Presidential debates were just boring?  Lots of folks do.  Well, here are some videos created by a couple of guys who wanted to add some musical style to the debates.  Check them out, and let me know what you think in the comments section!

First Presidential Debate


Vice-Presidential Debate

Lots of fun!  Can't wait to see what these guys come up with for the next Presidential debate next week!

The American Way

Yeah, I know, it's too early for Halloween pics already.  What can I say?  I adore this child, and when we tried on his costume tonight, I just couldn't resist.  Besides, it's not like my blog readers are going to get to see him live and in person on Halloween night...

♥

The Wisdom of the Heart

Throughout my teen years and on into my early adulthood, I was on an on-again/off-again search for something that would show itself to be spiritual truth.  Every step I took in researching various religions of the world too me farther and farther from the narcissistic, dictatorial, puppet master God of the Bible and closer to the ancient spiritualities of Europe and Asia.

While my studies of Buddhism were merely a stop-off on my journey, I find that many of the teachings of Buddhist leaders still hold, for me, some very perfect bits of wisdom.  Among my more favorite selections of Buddhist teachings is "The Wisdom of the Heart," by His Holiness the 14th Dalai Lama.

"The Wisdom

of the Heart"
 from the

14th Dalai Lama*

Nobel Peace Prize Laureate (1989)

1.  Be kind whenever possible. It is always possible.

2.  Open your arms to change, but don't let go of your values.

3.  Sleep is the best meditation.

4.  Spend some time alone every day.

5.  We can never obtain peace in the outer world until we make peace with ourselves.

6.  Remember that not getting what you want is sometimes a wonderful stroke of luck.

7.  We can live without religion and meditation, but we cannot survive without human affection.

8.  Happiness is not something ready made. It comes from your own actions.

9.  If you can, help others; if you cannot do that, at least do not harm them.

10.  The ultimate authority must always rest with the individual's own reason and critical analysis.

*The 14th Dalai Lama, Tenzin Gyatso, is the spiritual and exiled leader of the Tibetan people. Born in northeastern Tibet, he was recognized at the age of 2 as the reincarnation of the 13th Dalai Lama. After the suppression of the Tibetan national uprising in 1959, His Holiness escaped to India where he was given political asylum. Dalai Lama is a Mongolian title, which means "Ocean of Wisdom". "Dalai" means "ocean" in Mongolian, and "Lama" (bla ma) is the Tibetan equivalent of the Sanskrit word "guru", and is commonly translated to mean "spiritual teacher".

Our Teachers Are Afraid

Florida has long been a less-than-ideal place for teachers.  In fact, our teachers are some of the lowest-paid in the nation, yet they operate under some of the strictest scrutiny.  Micromanagement is an epidemic at every level of educational administration at the school, county, and state levels.  Gone are the days when teachers were made to feel as though they do an important job by educating our future generations.  These days, teachers are asked to do more and more with less and less and for smaller and smaller compensation.

This school year, the median salary for 10-month teachers in Escambia County is $40,187 (step 13 of 26 steps).  That may not sound so bad, but when you do the math, it gets worse.  Teachers in this county, on average, work 7½ hours per day at school.  While their contract guarantees them a duty-free lunch, high school teachers are the only ones who get that "perk" on any regular basis, meaning that they are on the clock for that 7½ hours each day.  Based on my own observation, I would say that it's not at all unusual for a teacher to spend 2 hours per night at home (or staying late at work) grading papers on weekdays and another 4-6 hours over the weekend.

$40,187 annually for a Step 13 teacher (32.825 on step 1 or 51.986 on step 26) (link) works out to a miserable pittance, once you take into account the hours that teachers spent "working" on their own time (working lunches, grading papers, and writing plans at home) during the school year and over the summer.  That is less than the average McDonald's employee (link)!  And those are the figures for a Step 13, veteran teacher!  Add to this the fact that teacher's pay is spread over 12 months, for most, instead of just the 10 months during the school year and you can plainly see that our teachers are being hugely underserved by the system that could not operate without them!

In addition to the low pay, most teachers spend their own money on work.  Teachers at several schools I know of each received a $100 budget this year to be spent on classroom and office supplies.  Teachers and aides also each qualify for up to a $250 tax credit on their annual income taxes.  Ask a teacher how much they spent last year on their classroom and work-related supplies.  It's very probable the number will tally far higher than $350.

And this is how our governmental system shows its appreciation for educators!

Why I'll be Voting for the Guy Who "Lost" the First Debate

People who know me know that I'm a committed liberal in nearly every way.  I dutifully tuned in to the first of the Presidential debates, which took place this past Wednesday.

I didn't expect that either candidate would say anything embarrassing or outright stupid.  I was right.  I didn't expect either candidate to say anything explosively wonderful.  Again, I was right.  In fact, while I didn't hear everything I expected to hear, I also didn't hear anything unexpected either.

I had already made up my mind to cast my vote for Obama in November 2012 just as I did in November of 2008.  That hasn't changed, and is unlikely to change.

Leading up to the 2008 election, I was heavily pregnant and excited at the prospect of bringing my baby into an Obama-led United States.  I cast my vote proudly at my local precinct, with one hand on my swollen stomach the way I imagined some good church ladies might lay their hands on their Bibles as they cast their votes for their chosen candidate.  That night, I stayed up later than usual to watch the election results roll in to the news networks, and I had tears in my eyes as I watched Obama officially acknowledge his victory.  I breathed a sigh of relief and watched as the monstrous Sarah Palin faded from all but the most radically conservative news headlines.

Less than 2 weeks after my son was born, Obama was inaugurated, and I watched the event live on CNN while Kaleb peacefully slept in my arms.  Again, I had tears in my eyes, though by this time I had decided that it was because pregnancy had forever ruined my hormones, leaving me vulnerable to crying over nearly anything at nearly any time.

Accepting Un-Pretty

I spent most of my childhood being teased mercilessly by my peers, both at school and at church.  I have always been the fat, freckle-faced, redheaded, unpopular kid.  I didn't play sports.  I didn't have any particularly enviable talents  I didn't come from a "rich" family.  I rarely ever had more than one or two "friends" at any given time.  It didn't take me long to understand that I have never fit into the mold of what common society considers to be physically beautiful.  I probably understood this fact by the time I had finished elementary school—although acceptance of this fact would come much, much later.

As I grew into adulthood, I learned that it didn't really matter that I'm not beautiful.  I'm smart, I'm funny, I'm passionate, and I'm a hard worker.  I have learned that I don't need a hundred "best" friends, and I'm honestly much happier with a smaller, closer circle of genuine friends.  I have learned that who I am is good enough, and that I'm worthy of love and friendship and respect.  I've learned that I don't need to be beautiful, and I've come to realize that I'm not sure I'd even want the pressure that would come attached to maintaining a beautiful me.

Working around middle schoolers, these past several years, has given me the opportunity to develop an entirely different perspective on being "un-pretty" by watching it unfold through the eyes of my students.  While it's not something I point out to them, I have students who do not fit into the "beautiful" category.  Some of them may never fit into that category, and there's really nothing that they can do about it.  While the "un-pretty" seems to afflict both male and female students, it is the girls I worry about the most.

The problem I see is this:

When a girl goes crying to her friends, parents, or teachers, telling them that she has been harassed or bullied by someone who said she was "ugly" or "fat" or some other such derogatory term, it is almost always handled wrongly.  The first reaction or these friends and parents and teachers is to comfort the girl—and rightly so—and then to say something like "Just ignore them.  You're beautiful no matter what they say."

September 11th: Fallen Heroes & Innocent Victims

What I am publishing here today is neither original nor unique.  We all know that there were nearly 3,000 people killed on September 11th, 2001.  It will be another one of those dates in history that people look back and can all very specifically say "I remember exactly where I was and what I was doing when....."

In several places today, I have seen people posting lists of people killed on that day.  There were firefighters, police officers, paramedics, Port Authority, airline passengers, civilians on the street, military personnel at the Pentagon, and thousands of businessmen and women and children all going about their normal workdays.  I would say that most every person in the nation was affected personally in less than the standard "six degrees of separation."

The sheer numbers of people are shocking and tragic. Here I have combined all the (reliable) lists I can find.   The list below contains 953 names, representing roughly one-third of the 9-11 related deaths.  As you scroll down the list, allow yourself to take in how very long the list actually is.  Let us not forget that, while this attack changed our country forever, many people were affected on a much deeper level because of the loss of someone they loved.

An Updated Review of Malena's Mini School

In January of 2012, I was on the hunt for a new daycare facility for Kaleb and ended up deciding to enroll him into Malena's Mini School at their location on Pine Forest Road.

Although he had just turned 3 earlier that same month, he was placed into the "older 2s" class because Malena's promotes on the same schedule as the public school system and his birthday hadn't happened before the cut-off.  At the time, I was a little disappointed about that, since he was already fully potty trained.  Little did I know then that the "older 2s" class would be the highest level we would be happy with at Malena's.

At the beginning of June, the week after the public schools let out for the summer, Kaleb was promoted to the 3-year-olds class.  Since he was already fully potty trained, he wouldn't have to wait until the end of the summer for his promotion.  It was really great for the first week or so, but the newness wore off quickly.

While I am a very strong proponent of young children taking naps—Kaleb still takes one every afternoon, no matter what—I am no where near as rigid on this point as Malena (the owner) is.  She serves the children lunch at sometime between 11a.m. and noon, and then expects them to lie down immediately for a 2-hour-minimum mandatory nap.  Even though a 2-hour nap would be no problem at all for Kaleb at home in his own bed, the early time coupled with the distraction of being in a room full of friends made it very difficult for Kaleb to accomplish this napping requirement.

He began coming home with bad daily reports almost every day, and most every comment was centered around Kaleb not being compliant with the napping law.  To make matters worse, Malena herself told me that she was making that class' nap times, and my child in particular, her personal mission.  Her stern attitude made me feel as if I were in the principal's office all the time.

Red! Got A Late-Summer Makeover

Students and teachers alike just finished getting outfitted with new clothes for school.  Change can be a really good thing, and new clothes can be an outward expression of a renewed commitment or a new beginning.  In similar fashion, Red! has been given a new look and imbued with a new sense of commitment.

©2012,  Les Taylor Photography.
Used with permission from my friend, Les Taylor.

Over the past few years, I have had the opportunity to nurture my relationship with Jack—although neither of us knows quite how to label or characterize what exactly our relationship is.  Just over one year ago, Jack was given an amazing chance to move to Japan and accept employment with an architectural firm there.  Over such a great distance, and with the communicative obstacles that exist in our relationship when we are geographically separated, Jack and I have used written words (well, typed) to share with one another everything from personal successes and sadnesses to light humor and strange sightings.  My blog has been one of the tools I have used to share many of my thoughts, not only with Jack but with many of my other friends as well.

Just as a conversation will grow stale without new topics, a blog will grow stale over time without new content and new visual interest.  The new content was never really a problem, as I had blogged frequently up until this past April when I decided to take a break.  But the visual interest on the blog just wasn't there anymore, and the several edits and tweaks I had made were more bandages than permanent solutions.

Under the old design, even though the name was "Red!," there was very little of the actual color red to be found on the pages.  While I still think the old design was pretty, it didn't have any special meaning beyond that.  I began to wish that I could put some real symbolism into the design of my blog, something that could be uniquely me and would complement my text content.

New Discoveries in an Old Routine

As I begin this post, it's 11:20p.m. on Tuesday evening, and I already know that I'll be dragging when the alarm clock starts buzzing in the morning.  But, I've had some thoughts circling my mind in a never-ending loop the last few days, and I need to get them out, so here I sit, on the couch, blogging when I should be already asleep.  Alas.

About 6 weeks ago, Kaleb was diagnosed with ADHD by his pediatrician and began taking a daily dose of Adderall to aid him in regaining control of himself.  To say the least, it feels as if our lives have been transformed.  It took a bit of trial and error to settle upon the correct dosage for Kaleb—just enough to get the job done, but not enough to turn him into a pre-school zombie—but when the right dosage was tested, it was like a magic spell!  He's not a perfect kid, and we still aggravate one another immeasurably sometimes (he's 3 years old, and we are both redheads), but pretty much everything has improved by the introduction of this little pill into our morning routines.

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Many people who know me already know that Kaleb began Pre-K 3 at Escambia Christian School yesterday (Monday) on the first day of the 2012-2013 school year.  It wasn't something I had really prepared for, and was arranged on relatively short notice—the reasons behind our withdrawal from Malena's Mini School will be the topic of another post.

Remembering Bob

At some point, some person will become a part of your life for a short time, but will leave a very lasting impression on your heart.  This is an experience that most everyone will have, and it can be a unique experience, to be so affected by someone you've barely gotten to know.

This is the story of the brief time that Bob* was a part of my life.

From October 2006 to October 2007, I worked in the administration and monitoring positions at a residential facility here in Pensacola where newly-released inmates were court ordered to attend drug and alcohol abuse treatment.  Up to 60 of these clients at a time lived in our facility, taking part in individual and group counseling and working to get back into the job force.  Each week, some clients would rotate out and others would rotate in.  Though I spent 50+ hours a week working among them, I never truly got to know the majority of the clients as there was a need to maintain a clear separation between profession and personal life.

But, try as I might, I did still get to know occasional clients very well—nothing remotely inappropriate, but some of these people.....you just couldn't help but like them.  Yes, I knew many of the more troubling and disturbing details of their individual pasts, but I also knew that many of these people were struggling with addictions that had taken away their self-control along with their self-respect.  The majority of the clients were good people who had made very bad choices and ended up in very bad situations.  Then they had landed in our facility.

Weekend DIY Project: Fixing Up a Tiny Bathroom on a Tiny Budget

I have a tiny bathroom.  It measures 5' wide (I can easily touch both side walls at the same time) and 7' from the door to the back wall (with the back 30" of that being occupied by the bathtub/shower).  Like I said, it's a small bathroom.

When we moved into this house 4 years ago, I thought it would be so bad having a small bathroom, as long as I could figure out a way to work in enough storage space.  So, in addition to the built-in cabinet under the sink, I brought in another small cabinet and shelf, stacked them, and positioned them in the only available floor space which happened to be directly across from the toilet.  This worked and gave me the storage space I needed, but it left everything feeling even smaller because it shrunk the open space in front of the toilet down to about 24".  And it was in that tiny cramped spot that I had to kneel to bathe Kaleb try to dry myself off after showers without stubbing my toe on the cabinet or toilet.  But lacking any better ideas or the funds to find something better, I worked with what I had.  And I'd lived with it that way for the past 4 years.

A few weeks ago, I had mentioned to my good friend Jack that I had almost broken my toe while getting Kaleb out of the bath in that tiny little space.  Little did I know that, a couple of days ago, a Visa gift card would show up in my mailbox, a gift from Jack with a note telling me to use it to fix my bathroom.  So that's exactly what I did!  I took that $200 gift card and put about $150 of it toward supplies for a bathroom fix-up.  I even had enough left over to fill up the gas tank in my car!

Check out how far the money went!

A Bit of Truth

Hello, neglected readers.  I realize it has been far too long since I have been here faithfully, and I am preparing for a proper return to regular writing.  However, just for today, I have found this little picture item while browsing a series of websites, and I wanted to share it with you all.  I "found" (translation: stole) this image on another blog called Analyfe, and I do not know if it was original to that blog or if that blog's author also "found" the image as I did.

It's the type of thing you come across online, and the moment you see it, you instantly realize that it holds a definite truth.  See for yourself, and let me know what you think.

I'll be back with more new things for you to read very soon.  ♥

Taking a Ride on the Etsy Bandwagon!

So, I may not be any professional artist, but I've been experimenting a lot lately with paintings inspired by Japanese Sakura (cherry blossoms).  I've worked out a technique that I think produces lovely results, so I thought I'd see if anyone else might enjoy them as well.  As of tonight, I've opened an Etsy Shop, figuring I might make a little supplemental income.  Couldn't hurt, right?  So, check it out, or tell your friends.  Thanks!

PcolaRedHead Etsy Shop!

Pensacola-area residents who wish to make a purchase and pick up their painting can contact me directly for a "free shipping" coupon code.  Then you won't have to pay for shipping, and we can work out a meeting to get your painting to you!

That's the Thing About Having Friends...

I've never been the kind of person who had—or wanted—bunches and bunches of friends.  I've always preferred to keep one or two close friends and simply maintain others at the level of friendly acquaintances.  I know this might not be typical for a woman, but there's a reason behind it.

You see, there's this thing about having friends: you have to open yourself up emotionally.

It doesn't sound like anything big or scary, but opening up emotionally leaves you open to being hurt or disappointed or mislead (intentionally or not) or embarrassed.  And none of those are things anyone likes, really.

Throughout my life, nearly every time I have opened up to a new friendship, at least of of those things has happened to me, and I can tell you that it is never any fun.  And each time it happens, I have to take a break and decide if that friendship is worth saving or if it's better to just let go.  Most times, I end up deciding that the value of the relationship doesn't outweigh the emotional toll it takes on me.  On rare occasions, I step back for a while, swallow my opinions (I know, hard for you to imagine), and push on through with a business-as-usual friendship.

Some of you may have noticed that I've been on a bit of "internet silence" the last few weeks.  Partly, this has been because work is pretty hectic this close to the end of the school year.  But mostly, I've been nursing a spot of hurt pride/embarrassment caused by a couple of friends.  I went out on a limb for someone, and it ended up biting me in the ass.  That old familiar sting came back, reminiscent of so many hurts and wrongs in the past, and I needed some time to myself to reevaluate.

I've had plenty of time to think now, and I'm back in the public arena of the internet again.  I haven't made any definite decisions about the status of this freshly-wounded friendship.  And, though I won't name the other party or even hint to their identity, the ball is now squarely in his or her court.

Friendship.  It's tough.  But for the opportunity to find those rare, true friends, it's totally worth it.

My Apologies for the Neglect

As the school year winds to a close, I find that my days are so crammed full of activity that my mind needs rest at night and there is very little brain power left over for blogging.  While this leaves my dear readers with nothing to read, it also means that I have put myself in a position to have a certain job next year, and that's a big deal for me.  We have 14 days of school left, so please be patient just a little while longer.  ♥

Weeds

I'm not a person who expects to be surrounded by perfection all the time.  I mean, perfection is nice, but it's just not realistic to expect it all the time.  The yard at our house is a perfect example of this: the weeds that pop up in the yard don't bother me a bit.  But the last few days, as I would come and go from the house, I noticed that a rather large green weed was pushing it's way up through a crack in the sidewalk right beside my rose vine.  It bothered me, but I never noticed it at a time when I actually had time to stop and do anything about it.

And it's not at all uncommon for life to occur in very much the same way.

Regular readers of my blog may have noticed that there have been no new posts here since April 15.  For someone who had blogged every day of the year up until that point, a 17-day gap is sort of a big deal.  But my life, like the crack in my sidewalk, has been sprouting troublesome weeds of its own lately.

The weeds started when my most immediate boss at work arranged to take a leave of absence for personal reasons and then "resigned" instead without any warning or good-byes to those of us who worked for her, and with a barely-plausible story to the bigger bosses.  As a result of her departure, the teacher I work with for the majority of the day was given a temporary promotion to fill her vacated spot for the rest of the school year.  A teacher leaving the classroom meant that I got to go on a wild ride of substitute teachers in and out until we have finally found one who can stick around for the rest of the year.....I hope.  Shortly after, we got to live through the 2 weeks each year that are blocked out and rearranged for students across the state to take the FCAT standardized tests.  Additionally, we've gotten several new students into my classes these last few weeks, many of them bringing new and somewhat unpleasant challenges that I get to learn to cope with.  The former boss was also in charge of our school's Beta Club, and that has now become my responsibility as well.

A Beautiful Dream

For the past couple of weeks, I've been having the same recurring dream every night.  It has even popped up the couple of times I've gotten the chance at a daytime nap.  I've never really been someone who spent much time analyzing my dreams, preferring instead to enjoy them in whatever manner they present themselves.  On the few occasions I've had recurring dreams in the past, they would come once or twice and then retreat into memories.  Most of them I cannot even remember now.  This time, however, the dream is visiting me night after night, and I awaken with it fresh in my mind every morning.

Nearly 3 weeks into this repetitive dream cycle now, the dream remains so much in the forefront of my mind that I relive it even in my waking dreams (daydreams) in snippets throughout the day.

Although I typically don't read deep meanings into my dreams, I do believe that they are one of the tools our minds use to heal themselves.  In your dreaming world, you can do things that you can not—or would not—do in your real life.  You can have new experiences, attempt difficult tasks, and get closure for past relationships.

In my dream, I'm in a hospital waiting room.  I do not know why I'm there, or if I'm a patient or visitor.  So far, that seems to be irrelevant in my dream.  I'm usually sad, but not overwhelmingly.  As I sit in this room, people keep coming to meet up with me, to sit with me for a while.  So far, each of these people has been someone from my past with whom I do not still have a positive relationship (or, in some cases, any relationship at all).  In each case, the visitor and I talk about our happy memories and our past hurts.  Each of these conversations ends with us in tears, ready to let go of the pain of the past and part on good terms.

Keeping My Word

At some point, we all discover that we have agreed to something without really knowing beforehand exactly what we were getting ourselves into.  I currently find myself in that very position, bearing the bulk of the responsibility for a student club at school that is limping along on a virtual life support system of parent enthusiasm when it should have been allowed to die long ago because of a near-complete lack of student interest.  Translation: this club now exists to keep parents happy, not because the students actually care.

Back in February, I was asked to pitch in and lend a hand with this club, at the time just to be a spare pair of hands for the teacher in charge.  But since that teacher's "unexpected" resignation, I have been placed at the masthead of this organization and have since gotten enough of an in-depth look at this group to see that the time has long passed for this club to be put out of its misery.

Let it never be said, though, that I did not carry through with my promise to carry this club to the end of the school year.  So, I will report to every meeting with a smile pasted onto my face.  I will organize every event with the dedication to detail that I would show to any other part of my job.  I will end the school year and will leave this organization poised to be taken over by the next person, with gears well-oiled and everything running smoothly.

While I have not always been able to make such a claim, I can proudly say that, these days, I am a woman of my word.

Privilege, Entitlement, & Pushy Parents

Today three intelligent, strong women (myself included) were defeated by one of "those" moms.  We had been resolved to a decision we had all but made final, and this one pushy mom managed to shove her way in and override us all.  You know the type: pushy, stuck up, and used to getting their way.....the kind who believe that everyone they meet is there purely to meet their needs and fulfill their every desire.  They're the types of moms who raise children who think they're better than everyone else.  They're the types of moms who believe that their children, though no virtue of their own, are better than everyone else's kids and deserve to be catered to.  They're the moms who want what they want, expect everyone to give it to them, and don't particularly care what sorts of hardships they create for the people who must cater to their whims.

I absolutely loathe moms (and dads) like this, and while I can paste on a smile and force myself to be civil toward them, they will never never never earn any genuine respect or admiration from me.

Working in a public middle school, it is extraordinarily easy to spot the glaring disparities between the haves, the have-nots, and the have-nothings among our student body.

The haves are usually the children of these pushy, privileged parents who raise their children to be sniveling, pampered, stuck-up brats.  They have name brand clothes, perfect acne-free faces (courtesy of high-priced dermatologists), and they win every form of popularity contest—prom queen, homecoming queen, student body president, etc.  These kids rule the school, lording over their peers with jewelry-clad fists and holding court in the hallways, bathrooms, and cafeteria where they are attended to by those on the outer fringes of their kind....the almost-haves.  The haves may not be the best or the brightest at anything, but their high-priced tutors and delusional parents ensure that their kids receive unwarranted recognition for even the most mundane and average accomplishments.

A Servant's Heart....?

I've been hearing—more accurately, reading—more and more people lately labeling themselves as having a "servant's heart," and it got me thinking about what that really means.  In the days before internet, such a curiosity could have meant days of research in a library.  Now, however, Google and I can team up to find answers to many of my queries in only minutes....or at least to find some validations for thoughts I might already be having.

Two nights ago, I stumbled across a post that echoed many of the things I had been feeling but had not yet been able to verbalize.  Because I could think of no words better to sum up my thoughts than those already written by the author of that blog, I decided to ask that author for permission to republish her post for my own readers.

So, posted below is the July 30, 2009 post written by Laurinda Bellinger [about] over at Laurinda on Leadership.  Text in yellow is where I have injected some thoughts of my own.  Those thoughts do not necessarily reflect the thoughts of the original post's author, Laurinda Bellinger.

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Do you have a Servant's Heart or a Slave's Mentality?

July 30, 2009

In Corporate America servant leadership has become popular form of leadership. I believe it's only true leadership form. I see people struggle with the term servant, especially those of us in the black community. Servant and slave are terms that don't sit well with us. Although we will sit in church on Sundays and hear how we are to servants and slaves of Christ. Many of us will serve in church, but it stops there. One reason is because having a servant's mentality, which I equate to a slave's mentality, is different than having a servant's heart.

A Rather Sad Day.

At 8:00p.m. last night, I arrived home.  Work had been fairly awful, and Kaleb and I had gone to spend some time with good friends to try and salvage a positive end for the day.  For the first time in many months, I was simply not in the mood to write.  My spirit is slightly damaged, and I needed to head to bed to escape into a dream that has become a constant welcome addition to my nightly slumber.

I believe that my Facebook status update fairly well summed things up, so I will leave you with that for today:

"Today at work I learned that people sometimes drop a lot of garbage as they walk the path toward their happiness. Sometimes, I have been guilty of this. And other times, I have the arduous task of being put onto the chain gang responsible for cleaning up others' garbage and restoring things to the way they ought to be. It has been a disheartening day, to say the least, and I am glad it is finally over. I pray that the clean up will go quickly, before these shackles cut to the bone."

Review: Crayola Color Bath Dropz

On Sunday, Kaleb received a basket filled with new toys and other fun things (and a very little bit of candy).  One of the items the "Easter Bunny" included in his basket this year was a jar of Crayola Color Bath Dropz.  I was a little worried that they would leave some permanent color on our tub or towels—or the kid—but after 2 nights of use, I'm happy to report that they seem to have no negative effects!

Our Color Bath Dropz came with three colors of tablets: RED, YELLOW, & BLUE.  Here's what Crayola has to say about their product:

"The Crayola Bath product line brings the color, fun, creativity and imagination of the Crayola brand to bath time. Crayola Bath Dropz are fizzing water color tablets that turn ordinary bath water into colorful, fizzy water. This jar makes up to 30 baths! Mix and match the tints to create all the colors of the rainbow."

Sunday night, Kaleb wanted a RED bath.  We used one red tablet under the running faucet, and within minutes, the tub looked as if a gruesome homicide had taken place there.  But when bath time was finished and we drained all the water from the tub, there appeared to be no color left on anything.  Kaleb, the tub, and all his bath toys were unaffected by the color, as was his bath towel once we had him all dried off.

Tonight, we tested out mixing our primary colors.  We mixed one YELLOW tablet and one BLUE tablet and the result was a bath tub full of very GREEN water.  Kaleb played with his toy boats for at least a half hour before it was time to get out and head to bed.  Once again, when the water had been drained, there was none of the color left anyplace.

Overall, I'd say these are a simple and affordable way to add some fun to your kids' bath!

P52, Somewhat: Week 15, "Tradition"

I grew up in a family with traditions.  We knew, more or less, what to expect at every major holiday, and it was nice to know what was coming.  Now that I'm a parent myself, I want Kaleb to benefit from these same types of traditions.  But the pressures of wanting him to have the perfect Rockwellian holidays, as I remember having in my own childhood.

What I have discovered is this: I probably actually never had a holiday that went perfectly according to my parents' plans.  My family holidays with Kaleb will probably never go perfectly either.  And that's ok.  Just as I never had any sense of things going wrong as a kid, Kaleb probably won't either.  In fact, the most important tradition is to simply spend time with Kaleb and do things to make his holidays special and memorable, just as my parents did for my brother and me when we were kids.

This year, for the first time, Kaleb and I dyed eggs.  Assuming I already had all the supplies we'd need, I didn't bother to read the directions of the egg dying kid my dad had given us.  I bought some eggs, and hard boiled 20 of them.  18 of them survived the boiling without cracking, and they were set aside to be colored.  On the day we were to dye the eggs, however, I realized we had no vinegar to add to the dye water to help the color adhere to the egg shells.  A quick glance around Google hinted that I might be able to use lemon juice instead, and I decided it would just have to work.  Kaleb and I spent some time dying the eggs, six at a time in three rounds.  They came out with plenty of imperfections, not at all what I had hoped for my first attempt at sharing this activity with Kaleb.  But you know what?  He didn't notice those imperfections at all!  He was overjoyed to be able to help, to get to participate in something new and fun.  When it was all finished, I couldn't pry Kaleb out of the kitchen.  He actually wanted to stand atop his stool and watch the eggs drying on the counter.

My Boys

It's not at all unusual for me to see a few raised eyebrows when I make reference to "my sons" or "my boys."  Most people know that I'm a single mom with a little boy, but those plural nouns often throw people for a loop.  However, even when I was pregnant with Kaleb, I already had one fuzzy child—my big orange cat, Morris.

In 2002, I was married and living in PPV military housing in a little town in Northern San Diego County called Ramona, California.  One day while I was home alone, there was an unexpected knock at the door.  I opened the door, and there stood a sleep-deprived Navy wife with a Radio Flyer wagon containing a basket of mewling orange furballs and several dozen cans of kitten formula.  She told me that her cat had had these kittens and had taken off and not returned.  She had been trying to take care of all 6 kittens herself, but was finding it impossible to keep up with them and her own children.  She was looking for families to adopt the kittens.  I had always wanted an orange cat—it seemed a redheaded woman should have one—so I agreed to take one.  We already had 3 cats, and I knew my then-husband would be none too happy when he came home....but he was rarely very happy anyway.