Posts tagged ‘friends’

May 30, 2011

Memorial Day

I never really think to much about this. As it turns out it’s just another day off, although today I chose to come into work. It’s the first time I have worked this particular holiday in eight years.

As always I sat on my front porch drinking coffee with my husband, reading emails, playing words with friends, checking groupon. The usual stuff. Not thinking anything about the day. It just a day. Then…….my iPad started beeping with all the site subscriptions I have. Everyone was writing about Memorial day in one way or another.

The lives that have been lost; the lives that have been forgotten. The injured. The found. Every life has a value to someone. Every person has been loved. Everyone gone remembered in some way by someone.

I work with Marines. I have lost friends, and acquaintances to war. I remember them often. The smile on their faces. The sound of their voice. The kindness in their hearts. The things they loved to do with their free time: skydiving, sailing, rock climbing, biking, etc. They are all amazing men.

At work guys don’t speak of the war much. I never really ask. Their home. There with family and the war is in the past, although I hear my share of stories.  Most are amazing and totally different than what you hear in mass media. It makes you wonder, so I no longer watch stories about the war.  The Marines are proud and I am proud of them.

I have meet boys who are now men that have lost their sight, their arms, their legs, the normal mental state. I used to feel sorry for them. I don’t anymore. They are proud of their misfortune. Proud of the job they have done. Willing to do it again without regret.

I don’t think about all I am grateful for everyday. I should. We have many freedoms that others don’t.  I should be more grateful. It’s a shame we need a day to celebrate the one who sacrificed. Those who have lost their lives for our benefit. Those who have sacrificed their lives for the ones they love. The country they love. It’s a shame that as a people we forget. We get so involved with the day to day we simply don’t have the time to remember. At the very least we have today.

In loving memory of my friend.

May 29, 2011

Chaney Ranch

This is an updated post. Jantz sent us a video he made of our son. And quit frankly I am super stoked about it.

May 28, 2011

Words with friends

Every now and again I get a Words with Friends bug. I just can’t seem to stop myself from wasting my time making simple words. I’m never really into the score, but who doesn’t like winning.

Now, I have been known on occasion to use a descrambler. There are times when I get stuck, or just don’t see the words before me. I usually prefer to go with a simple two letter word, and just man up to the embarrassment. It’s easier.

It doesn’t take an educated person to know that some words just are not used in the English language. At the very least there not common to most people’s vocabulary.

Paca – a large burrowing rodent in South America
Boskage – a mass of trees, or shrubs, wood,grove, or thicket Boscage
Bummalo – a small Asian fish
Crumbum – a despicable man
Epimysia. – muscle sheaths

I haven’t the foggiest idea about these words. Never heard them. Of course, it’s not to say that a person educated in Asian fishery wouldn’t know or use the word Bummalo, but words like this are not common. I think it highly unlikely, also, that people even bother to look up the strange words they are spelling.

Vowels make up everything. I learned this in first grade. Phonics are the key. If you can sound it out you can spell it out. Although it may not be a word, it’s defiantly worth the effort: ie, ea, aa, r, s, t, g, between vowels, ed at the end. It all about the sound. Simple vowel sounds is how we communicate. They are how we translate thoughts into words.

Scrabble is mind challenging, strategy orientated. It makes me think. Warms up the brain and for me is much funner than suduko. So the next time you play Words with Friends try using your mind unsteady of the descrambler. You never know what crazy word you will come up with. Not to mention blocking them from using triple.

Picul – a unit of weight used in some parts of Asia
Trinal – having three parts; threefold
Nutria – the light brown fur of the coypu. I’ll let you look that up.

May 18, 2011

Red light cams

There isn’t a whole bunch where I live but if you go to Escondido California you can expect to see one on every corner. It’s crazy. It makes you paranoid. Who wants to drive under those conditions. I don’t go to Escondido for that very reason. I have friends there but we meet other places because Escondido sucks.

Realize this, these are third party companies, and it costs the cities a whole lot of money to hire these companies and all there administrators to cycle through all the pictures. Let’s not forget the maintenance on these camera that the city is getting billed for money that could be better spent having actual police officers on our streets stopping criminals.

One study says these cameras cause more accidents because people are so paranoid they slam on there brakes and get rear ended. Nobody intentionally wants to get into an accident and most law abiding citizens don’t intentionally run red lights.

If you lend some one your car and get a red light cam violation it is you that’s responsible, the owner of the car. Not the person you were trying to help out by lending them your car. Which leads the owner of the car and consequently me into being an asshole and not letting anyone borrow my car.

The way I see it. Forget the criminals as these cities are obviously not that concerned so much with that as punishing and gouging the pockets of their very citizens that support them. Most of us can’t move because of cost, but I did. I was not and will not live in a city that punishes me, a law abiding citizen.

It’s bad enough our state can balance a check book and is gouging us for taxes, fine and fees. Our cities do it to. There is nobody immune to the corruption of our local, state and federal governments. But, to blatantly smack me in the face with red light cameras. Really.

I didn’t get a ticket, so that not what the rants for. My friend lives in Escondido and I will not go visit or spend any money there because of these cameras. The topic was just on my mind.

May 17, 2011

Blogs

I read so many blogs tonight from all over the United States. I really search out the most unread blogs and found so much life that was incredible. Kids typing to make sense of there life. Parents trying to find the right way to raise there children. People dealing with everyday life. We hangout in our own little world most of the time and forget that there are millions of others that are just like us. They deal with the same thing. The work for the same things. The one thing that makes us all unique is that we perceive the world differently. A simple tree can represent so many things. Things I would never even think of.

May 16, 2011

Perspective on raising girls

I often talk to parents about how they raise their children, daughters mostly. Mine has been a little more difficult than my son. In terms of raising her I tend to think psychologically as I wanted her to be balanced, and well adjusted.

When my daughter was two I was very new to the study of children. I should have known when she cried the first three months of her life she would be a challenge. I should have known when she skipped over the crawling and went straight to running I was in for it, but I didn’t.

When she was two and getting in trouble one day I sat her in a chair and told her to stay, like a dog I suppose. I told her if she got out of the chair I would spank her. I don’t know why. Spanking serves no other purpose than to hurt my hand, but that’s what I said. This played itself out several times and the only thing it got me was a sore hand. She never cried because her butt was covered with a diaper, but she did have fun tormenting me.

As the years passed the same situation presented itself over and over again in different scenarios mostly in the form of us screaming at each other. I never quite understood why until now that she would do anything her father said but fight me tooth and nail over the smallest thing.

Never does she have conflict with her father. If he asked her to do anything she does without complaint, because she knows this will pit him against her mother. If she severs their bond then she can becomes the leader. This can be her tribe. Dad always sides with mom but as a young child she never stops trying.

It’s just recently I hear people referring to their families as a tribes. It is the most accurate statement that can be made about the family unit. We are tribes. Preindustrialization, and modern man both men and women had roles to play. Although in the fifties era,  the Beaver Cleavers showed great signs of the separation of men and women in the home. Men went to work, they were hunters of food, protectors of the home. They were builders. The foundation of the very tribe in which they belonged. Women were the gatherers, the ones that nurtured the children into their appropriate place within the tribe. Women supplied the essence of tribes very life. Everybody has a job and they were clearly defined.

In the case of a mother and daughter. A daughter is meant for these things. I believe genetically. She is born to nurture, to supply the very essence of leadership that will one day support and guide her own tribe. Without her no tribe can exist. Now that’s not to say that boys and men do not serve the same functions in their roles but it’s clearly another essay. Females no matter the age are meant to do great things and conflict arises when there are two making the same soup.

My daughter from birth genetically, I believe, is a leader. All girls are. She wants to lead to take control of the tribe. She fights for this. She wants to make the decisions, and tells me no when she doesn’t like mine. It creates conflict, fights, a struggle between her very nature to be a leader and her age. This explains a lot about why little girls like dolls. They are playing the role of leader. Preparing for the day when she posses her own tribe.

When my daughter was three or four she wanted to pick her own clothes to wear. She wanted to make decisions, chose what she wore, what she ate, what cup she drank out of. These were all critical decisions that prepare her for life ahead. I let her do all these things. It actually makes my life easier. Now her choice is clothing hasn’t always been the best but it covered the parts of her body that needed to be covered so it was fine with me Because it is her peers that will judge her new look with blatant truth, I do not have to be the bad guy. It is her peers that become my greatest ally. They judge harshly and allow me to play the role of nurturer instead of dictator. They hurt her feelings when they say her outfit is ugly, or she’s fat, stupid, etc. To resolve this I get to tell her she is an individual, beautiful, brilliant. I get to educate her on proper nutrition, fashion, the three R’s of education. She turns to me and I become the hero, the caretaker, the wise one. It works in my favor every time.

As my daughter got older she found new ways to assert her leadership. She got bossy with everybody. The kids on the playground, our son, nana, papa, but never dad. She would tell her brother he was sick and he needed to stay in bed and home from school. She would command him to eat his veggies. Don’t throw sand at the playground someone could get hurt. Don’t go up the slide that way it’s not safe. She was being a mother and rightfully so. She is born to do this genetically, nurture, care for, emotionally tend to. We praise our daughters for these traits. We encourage these traits. This is her way of learning how to prepare for the future. How to be a mother. She immolates us because genetically that is what she is supposed to be learning in these early years.

As my daughter moves into the teen years she is afford more freedom to make tougher choices, more responsibility. She recently had to research a new school and find out if its a fit for her. She made the final decision and it coincided with mine. It worked naturally the way it’s supposed to. We have fewer fights because we work together for the greater good. I encourage her to make mistakes, take risks. She need only hear about my experiences but learn her own lessons.

I know a women that has three girls the oldest the same age as mine. She tells them how to dress everyday How to wear their hair. In fact she does it for them. They make no choices. None. They are told what sports they can play. The mother rules every aspect of their life. They have no freedoms. They are servants to their mothers will. Now this is extreme, but look forward ten years and picture what I see….rebellion and lots of it. Their mother has told me great, fantastical stories of her own rebellion but had not learned a single lesson from it.

There is not need to cuddle your child. The dress them, feed them, or rule with a heavy hand. Children by design know their path and are willing to tell us if we would only listen.

May 14, 2011

Schools

When we bought our house my kids were three and four, so my daughter would be stating school in the fall. I either didn’t think to at the time or didn’t care to check into the local schools. I wasn’t concerned about the districts grade point average, or the income level of families that attended. Those things are important to me now, although I’m not moving or selling my house.

Public education in California is a joke just like most state run agencies here. You can get free lunches, free bus passes, free everything if you just smear the truth a little bit. People do, and I don’t blame them because this is a tough economy to live in. California is expensive.

My daughter went to public school through fifth grade. I had complaints the whole way. The amount of teaching time that was taken away from the English speaking students to tutor and teach the none English speaking kids, even if they are illegal immigrants. The lack of homework, my daughter has been threatened, degraded, and insulted by a teacher.

The federal government says ever kid has the right to an education even if they are illegal. Ok, then teach my child Spanish in kindergarten. Instead my child has playtime while Spanish speaking get tutored in English. My daughters fifth grade teacher has tenure so he could threaten and insult the kids all he wanted to. The school board does nothing. I told her if his behavior was inappropriate to walk out and call me, she did. Still nothing was done. The school wouldn’t even put her in another class, because changing classes was against policy. My hands were tied. I took her out of the state funded public school system.

Charter schools.

I drive my kids fifteen miles one way to take them to a charter school. There first year there is almost over and it has been the best thing that ever happened to my daughter. My son could care less, school is school and he easy going so he makes friends everywhere. Now my daughter is the smart one. If her mind isn’t challenged she is a raging bitch. She fights, slams doors, is mean, won’t do anything you ask her. She’s out of control. She needs the challenge, and when she gets it she in perfect, amazing, incredible. My son on the other hand needs motocross. Without it he’s just sad. He withdrawals from the world.

It’s the end of the year and time for re-enrollment. Most of my daughters friends a going to a new charter school. She bummed. I told her I would consider it but she had to do the ground work which meant writing emails and calling the school for information. Now the charter school is sponsored by fender guitars for music and vans for the uniforms. Sounds good. The guitar lessons which are not part of the academics but rather an after school program are affordable but my daughter is not nor does she want to be a musician. I’m not sold. The tutoring programs are only available for a price, but there free at the school she attends now. Still not sold.

I don’t want to burst her bubble. I don’t want to let her down. She deserves a lot and works for it. What about science, math, English, history I asked her. You gather information on that and we will discuss it. She emailed the school a very professional letter questioning their academics. We haven’t gotten a reply and I don’t suspect we will. Her friend that is going there invited her to the orientation. She went and questionedthe teachers on the topics of academics. The blew her off. The only thing that the website talks about is farming. It’s an agricultural middle school. That’s all you get from the website besides the music after school program. My daughter came home disappointed and made the decision she didn’t want to go. She would rather make new friends than follow her current friends to a school that had no academic programs. Funny, she has the goal of taking trigonometry by the eighth grade. Im proud of her.

The lesson learned here is that not matter how beautiful the website. No matter how enticing the words like, academic, knowledge based, state certified, award winning programs are they are still words and prove nothing. I didn’t have to tell her no she came to that conclusion herself. Again I am proud of her for being the woman I know she is becoming.

May 14, 2011

Drama

Let the drama begin said the conductor to the audience. Just like that the orchestra begins and every player has their part. That’s how it goes. There is one conductor and everyone else has a role to play.

My daughter is eleven and has hit the age of drama. I consider myself lucky that she’s not the causing it. I would like to think that a healthy childhood leads to less drama. I have always told my daughter she is beautiful inside and out. She’s a little vain. I have always told her she is intelligent. Home and public schooled her. I have always kept it real. If she was being a bitch. I told her she was. If she wronged someone I made her apologize even if it was a small indiscretion. When someone was taking her lunch I made her stand up for herself. She did. When she got in a fight. I praised her for defending herself. She was in the right to do so. When her feelings were hurt we talked about it. I explained how life works and she is not now or will ever be the center of attention for everybody all the time. And, when it comes to drama I just won’t tolerate it. Jealousy, controlling, anger, bossy, you know all those things that wrap drama up in a nice little package agitate me to no end.

Now that my daughter is a little older, boys and drama are beginning to be an issue. She comes home from school and always tells me the latest. She bosses him around; he wants to break up with her; she not happy with him; he’s talking to another girl. Your getting the picture…right. We laugh about it quite a bit. My daughter always get caught in the middle between her friend and her friends new boyfriend of the week. She to is part of the orchestra.

Drama is nothing more than low self worth, self esteem, self value, however you wish to say it. I wonder how a perfectly normal, cute girl ends up this way. I could speculate that either her parents were to busy with their life or jobs to attend to her emotionally, or that they were just not educated enough on the matter to do so. Either way her she is causing drama and heartache for herself that will last a lifetime.

Being jealous and controlling is like taking flowers away from bees. You will never get any honey. The only person that suffers is you. Everybody else leaves, moves on. It defiantly sends you spiraling down further into you self loathing pit. Then where are you at. Alone in your room crying, eating ice cream which will make you fat not to mention feel that much worse about yourself. Why? Why go down that road? Don’t get me wrong it’s entertaining the daily gossip. It is.

I heard Jillian Michael’s say “Why chose failure when success is an option.” it’s a good question and applies to everything. Now I can’t stand Jillian Michaels for no other reason than I just don’t like the sound of her voice, but the statement holds true.

So the moral, why be jealous, controlling, bossy, you know. When you could just be happy. Why self loathe when you could be beautiful. Why cry when you could laugh? Why choose failure when you can be a success and not a psychological mess?

May 13, 2011

Genetics

Have you ever thought about who you are? The person you were born to be. There’s a code that makes you just like the code that makes the program I write on. That code is obvious when you have your fathers nose, or your mothers eyes. Your personality comes out in the code when your mom says, “Your just like your father.” It’s true you are. This is a story about one kids code.

A boy seven years old was not allowed to see his father anymore. The mom had grown to hate the dad for whatever reason. The court ordered visitation but she refused. She was mean and vicious. I know a lot of women like her. At this point she had moved out of state, remarried and wanted to leave the past in the past which meant not contact for the son with his dad. How does this benefit anyone?

As the years went by, and there has been ten, the boy grew out of control. He learned to speak his mind. He did crazy insane things unlike his stepdad who liked fishing, watching tv, being mellow. They couldn’t understand how the boy had gone down this road. They had tried to be good parents. What they didn’t get was that genetically the boy was extreme, crazy, was ready and willing to meet everyday at 110 mph. She couldn’t handle him anymore.

The phone call came. I’m sending the boy to visit. I can’t handle him. He’s out of control. I laughed when I heard this. The stories perfectly represented my husband and my son. Both extreme. Both crazy. That’s what I love about them. They are willing to take the world on at a 110 mph. It’s who they are genetically. It who the boy is.

My son with with same father. Before my son rode motocross he didn’t participate in school. In the first grade he was failing. I didn’t make the connection until after motorcycles came into his life. His teacher called and asked why he was participating. He grades were improving over night. He was 7 then. When he was 8 he told me, “it’s ok if I die out there mom.” He meant that every word. He’s 10 now and not only is he a great rider, but a great student. He takes responsibility for his actions and he has earned the respect of many. He’s a great kid.

Because me and his dad get along so well we have stayed together over the years. We have a great marriage. My son gets to do all these things because he is genetically just like the man that’s raising him. If my son had to hangout with a guy that liked fishing he would be a trouble maker. He would find some negative way to vent. He would have no choice.

I’m just a little curious what’s with moms. First, the only one it hurts is the kid 100% of the time. You slept with the guy, and got knocked up now be responsible. Boys need men. Men should raise boys. They need their genetic fathers regardless of your pissed off attitude. I know this doesn’t apply in every case, men who abuse. You get the point.

How do boys learn to be men? My son called his friend a pussy little cry baby the other day. I’m not sure I agree with his verbiage, but it was the truth. I let it go. One day my son was training for a race he crashed. We were all there, me, the EMT, other riders. He was screaming. i asked him several times if he was ok. He couldn’t hear me. I screamed at him, “Stop your damn crying, be a man and tell us where the he’ll it hurts.” he did, and he has ever since.

The 17 year old was out he for three weeks. I think he thought it was going to be all California sun and fun. Not at my house. If it ain’t motocross I ain’t going and that includes the beach. Thats what we did. We had our toy hauler then and lived in it on the weekends. My son doesn’t take weekends off. He serious about his business. He doesn’t screw around. I respect that and he has earned my respect and the right to dictate what we do on the weekends.

My son will be a great man someday. Not because he is my son but because he is with his genetic father. They have a lot in common. They are meant to be together for life. They are meant to learn from one another.

I’m not saying that step parents can’t get the job done. They can. What I’m saying is that holding you child to punish a parent on damages the child genetically. Man up. Be a responsible human. Quit being a cry baby.

May 11, 2011

Walk a mile

Walk a mile in my shoes

I was listening to pandora last night, Everlast. There is nothing I don’t like about his music. It has a southern soulful sound to it. It has a sense of meaning to me. I can relate. A song from Eminem came on, beautiful. I’m not a huge fan of his music but this particular song influenced me. If you get a chance listen.

I don’t pretend to know anything, no nothing at all.
I don’t pretend to be smart
I don’t pretend to be tall

Life has afforded me great things
But great things need life
I have failed them all

I’ve tried so hard
The tears I have wept
The promises I’ve made
The lies I’ve kept

I suppose this sums up the life each one of us has had to lead at one time or another. Those are not the words from is song. I didn’t want to copy. From the very poor to the very rich life is complicated. Money doesn’t change that or make it better. Emotionally it is the about the same, extracting the from the equation those who are insane, mental, you get the point. No matter who you are or what you do you have to dealt with the human plight of emotions. Walk a mile in sorrow, happiness, fear. I know there are you’s out there that can’t relate, can’t feel another’s pain because you have never faced the tragedy. You will in one way or another. You have in your on way.

When I was little I lived on the outskirts of tornado alley. I grew up in segregation and I’m not that old. I have seen devastation. I have had a friend die at the hands of a bomb in Afghanistan, been addicted to drugs, lied for the benefit of me, and never made amends for the things I did to another. I have been made the fool, made a fool of you. I have cheated; I have deceived. I have done terrible things as part of my life.

I have help a friend, showed kindness where there was none. I have cared about issues, stood my ground in the defense of others. I have brought two beautiful children into this world. I have cried for your pain, and lent a hand to the fallen. I have apologized for the feelings I hurt, and felt compassion for the wrong doings of others. I have brought happiness, love and joy where there was sorrow. I have done good things.

That should be about a mile if indeed it can’t be measured. You know me better, but there isn’t much there that is different from you. Maybe you weren’t addicted to drugs or seen a disaster first hand. Both are unique, tragic. The disaster is an act of mother nature. Tornados are amazing, incredible things until they destroy your home. Drugs. I loved them, but they destroy your life. Most who used will agree in one aspect or another. Segregation afforded me perspective. A mile in the shoes.

Nothing I have done that follows me down the road I am on serves regret. I don’t hide from the past. It doesn’t torment me. I don’t let it. My miles have been long. It’s been a dusty road. One that feels no sorrow for my pains. I don’t want it to. I made all my choices. I stand by all my decisions, every one no matter how stupid they were.

Walk a mile in anyones shoes and you will see that they are much like you. Every emotion we have is called the same. Everyday begins and ends the same. Every mile is measured the same. It’s what we do with those emotions that make us different.