Yours, Mine, Ours...And Everyone Else's Too

I thought I would be going through empty nest syndrome. My children seemed so eager to leave after graduating, and one of them did...for a couple of months...for a few days at time...she came home on the weekends.... what I'm saying here is my nest is NOT empty. In fact, the amount of people have multiplied, including an almost five month old baby. (I am so not complaining)

For those of you that have ever considered communal type living, let me just give you a warning about the not so pretty aspects of it. Here is a list of not so glamorous things about living in a smallish house with lots of people.

I was never good at dancing. That is, until I had to learn to deal with one and a half bathrooms with a large family. I'm getting older. I've had a baby. I've had a hysterectomy. My bladder waits for no one, especially first thing in the morning. When these kids were in school, I had to nearly pry them from their slumber to get them up and going. Now it seems as though they are mainlining cocaine all night long. It doesn't matter if I wake up at seven in the morning or one in the afternoon, someone is in there showering, shaving, peeing, pooping...you name it. When I have to pee, someone is in there doing something. EVERY. SINGLE. TIME. I've lost what little modesty I had left and have resorted to using the bathroom while they are showering. I'm sure my almost twenty year old son loves that.

You wanted clean underwear? Should have planned that out a week in advance. Chances of getting your clothes in the washing machine at any given time are as slim as getting in the bathroom when you need to. We had a wedding to attend last week and you would have thought that it was announced that there would be no washing machine EVER AGAIN. The run on the basement made me consider wearing footie pajamas to the wedding.

Forget retirement. Any possible savings you may have accrued are going right to the gas and electric company. The washer, dryer, and hot water heater do NOT run on wishes and hopes...much to my dismay. Just last week we had a family meeting about how to cut down on our usage. The kids (young adults) just looked at me with glazed over eyes. It was like I was speaking a different language. "Last month's bill was $1000. We need to do something about this." What they heard, "blah blah blah blah." At least they had the heart to nod agreeably.

That warm cozy bath you just took is going to be ruined when you step out of the tub, reach for your towel, and wrap the dripping wet mess around you. NOTHING is sacred. We've bought every person in this house their own color coded towels. We've threatened their lives and told them to only use their towels. Here's a little factoid for you.. there are people in this world that don't care if they are using something that has touched your private areas....and they all seem to live with me. Pro tip, hide YOUR towels. Just do it.

I remember a time when I worried that my angsty teens would never come out of their room. I'd find them curled up under blankets, in the dark, listening to music that evoked emotions akin to those you get at funerals. Don't you worry!! One day those kids are going to decide that evil lives in every shadowy spot in the house and they will leave every light on to repel those demons. 

This. I will never, NEVER, understand why this is so freaking hard! Could someone please, for the love of all that is holy, explain to me why this is so hard?! One day, you will find me curled up in a corner, mumbling and pulling my eyelashes out..and this will be why.

Young people are struck blind at some point. Don't you worry. They can see all the beautiful and wonderful things in life. It only effects the part of their sight that is dedicated to identifying a mess. I don't know how it happens. I've asked the optometrist if there was a special prescription lens to help them out, he just asked me to leave his office and threatened to call security. Number one rule in a houseful? NO ONE made that mess. Magical things happen and messes just appear.

Remember when you used to go out, hang out with friends, enjoy parties? Being surrounded by other people twenty four hours a day will turn you into a hermit. You will start thinking about the prospect of towing a broken down car to your back yard to make it a space to be alone in. You will recall the days of your youth when you had forts and start thinking about climbing the tree in your yard...and never coming out. The thought of social events makes my heart skip beats and my palms sweat. Just what I need, more people to be around. You know what I need? A dry towel and a cave.

Yes, I sound sarcastic and cynical. Do I love my family? Yes! Is everything I said, true? Sure is. So when you look at my home and think, "awww it's so sweet how they live" just remember I warned you. It takes a mighty big sense of humor to live through it.

I'm serious about the toilet paper thing though. It will eventually make me insane.

Young Adult Me Vs. Middle Age Me: How Time Changes A Person

Time does change us. There is no denying that. When I reflect back on my young adulthood, I often giggle to myself. I empathize with people who are just coming into their adult lives.. it's a time of great power and little experience in how to wield it. This is a top ten list comparing young me to the (shhh...almost) forty me.

1. Young Me: I have a voice. I am free to say whatever I want. I can swear loudly, yell at others, announce my stance on every situation EVER.
Older me: I have a voice. I use it when I see that my words are well thought out. I don't need to swear or yell, because people don't really hear me when I do that. I have personal opinions about many issues, but it's OK to not try to conform everyone to my beliefs.

2. Young Me: I am going to feel this way about something, forever. I can't believe people do this or that. Can't they see their mistakes???
Older me: I feel this way about something, right now.. but I know that experience and interactions with people can make me change my mind because I may see many sides to a situation instead of one. People make mistakes, so do I. It makes us better people..it's OK to let them work it out and learn from it.

3. Young Me: You hurt me, I am done with you.
Older me: I have hurt you, please give me a chance to fix that..and I will do the same for you when the shoe is on the other foot.

4. Young me: My childhood was terrible, my parent's choices will cause me pain forever.
Older me: My childhood was terrible, but I am not a child. I can choose to learn from those bad experiences and shape my future to be what I want.

5. Young me: People in a position of power only want to abuse it and me. I will fight the system any way I can.
Older me: Some people in a powerful position do abuse it, but it's not fair to judge a whole group of people based on their actions. Laws are often in place for a good reason. Not all of them! But some of them.

6. Young me: I use my words to complain about unfair laws, political events, and the absence of civil rights.
Older me: I use my voice, my hands, my feet, and everything else I can, to seek change. I am involved in my community. I vote. I give my time and finances to causes that I feel passionate about.

7. I laugh at or judge bad decisions that younger and older people make. I am at an enlightened age.
Older me: We are unified in that we ALL make choices based on our life experiences. I may be able to see a better way to do something, but I realize that I learned best when I had to figure it out on my own. Perhaps, if that person asks for help, I will get the opportunity to do so.

8. Young me: I will do what makes me happy. I will behave in a way that I see fit.
Older me: Sometimes what I want does not benefit the people around me. I understand that there is a time for thinking about myself and a time for being selfless. Extremes of either one is not healthy.

9. Young me: I love receiving gifts, I think about THINGS more than I think about the moments I have with others.
Older me: Things are impermanent. Memories are forever. No material item has ever made me as satisfied as time spent with another person. Giving makes me happier than receiving....always.

10. Young me: I feel immortal. I have so much time left.
Older me: Every second is a gift. I must honor each day I have with those I love, because I am not promised another.

Hopefully, I will have the opportunity to revisit this in another decade. This was not a bragging post or a shaming young people post. It was a post to reflect on how much life changes as we grow.

Suicide, Why It's Not Your Place To Judge.

This is not a fun thing to talk about.

Robin William's death has left people reeling. One glance at the media, social and otherwise, leaves one with images of a man that made so many laugh. It is tragic. There is no denying that. Losing a precious soul is always tragic, whether it be from natural causes, an accident, or suicide. 

Suicide brings up so many questions for those left behind. Why? How did I not know? Could I have stopped them? These questions are normal. It is absolutely normal to question your role when someone takes their life. It is a normal part of grieving the loss of someone you loved. 

What is not OK is judging the person who took their life or the family and friends that were part of their life. 

I have seen posts about how Robin Williams' family should have done something to stop him. How it was a waste of life and talent. That it is wrong. That suicide is not a solution to a temporary problem. Depression medication is to blame. I feel compelled to shed some light on these types of judgments. I am not asking you to agree with me, I am merely asking you to open your minds to what it's like to have depression. 

Imagine yourself in a dark tunnel on a train that is moving so fast that everything outside of it is a blur. Every now and then you see the train hitting your loved ones, hurting them. Now imagine yourself laying on the floor of that train. Every inch of your body is tired and hurts. You can see the lever for the brake out of arms reach, but your body does not have the strength left to pull it. 

When a person is truly, clinically depressed..this is their existence. 

One day after another of feeling like they are hurting those around them. The guilt is unimaginable. There is no question of how the world is a better place because they are in it. They feel like a freight train who is taking out everyone in their path. They are not pretending to be martyrs. To them, ending their life is an act of love and sacrifice to stop their own issues from hurting others. I am not demeaning the impact of a suicide on those left behind. Not for a minute. Their pain and loss is tremendous and sad. I am only asking you to look through the eyes of someone who is considering taking their life. These are thoughts that they struggle with every day.

Add to that the feeling that they no longer have the strength to live with their own pain. This is not weakness. Quite the opposite. People who live with serious depression are some of the strongest people I've met. Their battle is not one that is external, something they can escape from. It is internal. Ever present. They are waging war against their own thoughts and feelings on a minute to minute basis. Add to that the physical symptoms of depression. Your body hurts from head to toe. It is like you are being beaten by an outside force, every day. 

For those who say that suicide is a permanent solution to a temporary problem, I ask you to learn about the pervasiveness of mental illness. Sometimes their is no solution. Sometimes, someone can get a glimpse of light and find strength to keep going. For others, they never see that light. Existence becomes one of survival, never really living life...just getting through another day.

I am not condoning suicide, or asking you to condone suicide. It is not our decision to judge. It is not our place to tell a person that they are a waste, or that they are bad because they don't want to suffer and they don't want their loved ones to suffer. 

It is important to honor a person's life, not judge their death. There is so much more to a person that that single moment when their life is suddenly over. Find the beauty they brought into the world. Thank them for that. 

I am asking you to put aside your own feelings for a moment and to acknowledge a person's pain for what it is. 

Empathy. That is all I am asking of you. 

Balding, Diapers, and Karma

Disclaimer: You are about to read some real life, gritty, TMI kinda stuff. Turn away now if it offends you.

This is not a rant about aging. I appreciate the fact that I am still alive and kicking. Maybe not kicking so much as dragging one leg behind me while flailing the other...but I digress. Seriously, as much as I joke about getting older, Kendrick and I still laugh about it.

Kendrick has been on a kick about growing his hair out "one last time." He started balding several years ago, and a day hasn't gone by that he hasn't pointed it out in one way or another. ( and men say women are vain) He spent most of last year with a shaved head, claiming that he had given up the fight. At some point this summer he decided to give it one more chance. His obsession with the balding became even more prevalent. Every day asking, "should I just shave it off again? Does it look ridiculous?" To which I replied, "grow it out a bit longer, maybe the thicker parts will cover the thinner parts as it gets longer." Also, "you're driving me freaking crazy with this" may have come out of my mouth a time or two.

Tonight...

I think I sealed the deal when I was running my hands through his hair and I noticed a new balding spot in the back. Maybe it was the audible gasp. Maybe it was the fact that I kept leafing through the same spot like I was looking for lice. I tipped him off though, and when he asked what I was looking at... I told him the truth.

One would have thought that I had just announced that his back hair was on fire. He jumped up so fast that I was thrown backwards. "Take a picture of it..right now!!!" So I did. With Flash. I decided that the flash made it look worse than it was so I took another without it. "That's it! I'm shaving my head!! How could you let me walk around like this?!" As if I was to blame for his hair falling out faster than a tree loses leaves in the fall? "I don't know.." I said. "This is the first I've seen it."

I may have been laughing at his reaction.

"Take a picture of the front, I want to see it for what it is!"
"Ok, ok...hold on..let me just turn the flash off.."
"DO NOT turn the flash off! Just take the damn picture!!"
"Okay, if that's what you really want. I'm just saying, it looks worse that way."
(staring at me with disbelief on his face) He calmly says, "Just. take. the. picture."

I held my camera to my chest with a death grip. I knew he was going to blow his lid. (and what hair remained)

"Show me the picture."
I may or may not have been laughing hard. I show him the picture.
For some sick reason, the look on his face made me lose it. Here I am, showing my husband that his hair is falling out. A sign that he's aging...and I start laughing so hard I choke.


Karma is a bitch sometimes.


I peed myself.

A year after my hysterectomy, my bladder fell. All the sinew and organ that held it into place all of my life was gone. Leaving my bladder in a sad, droopy state of affairs. So yes, I have spent years doing kegals and pelvic floor exercises, but my bladder is floating around in there just bouncing off of other things. It's not supposed to do that. It needs support. (kind of like my increasingly saggy boobs)

I remember a time when laughing didn't raise the red flag of "get yer diaper on, you're in for a wet ride." Any woman who has given birth to a big baby or has had a traumatic birth, knows that things just aren't always right after it. A sudden cough may cause you to squeeze your legs together in hopes that you can keep from dripping. Yes, I said dripping. It's not a pretty thing. It's real life.


So there we are. Him lamenting his hair loss and me peeing myself. Growing old together doesn't get much more real than that.

He's shaving his head as I write this. No more to worry about what his hair looks like.

And I solemnly swear to not sit on anyone's lap while laughing.

Eighteen Years

Eighteen years ago at this time, I was in a hospital. being told to rest up to prepare for your impending arrival. There was no sleep to be had. I remember staring at my stomach, my hand rubbing your safe little nest, begging you to arrive safely.

The moment you were born, tears sprang from my heart. Tears of joy and a love that I could never define if I tried to. That moment was the moment I learned what true love is. Unyielding, unconditional, perfect love.  I felt as though my heart could not be more full than it was at that moment. I was wrong. Every day since then, you've filled my heart more and more.

Eighteen years. You and I have been together for eighteen years. That's longer than any relationship I've had. It's longer than any job I've had. You, my sweet girl, are the only thing in my life that I've dedicated so much of myself to for this amount of time. Loving you is as easy as breathing.

Eighteen years. Saying this out loud brings on a plethora of emotions... but mostly, pride.

I'm proud that you've valued your own life enough to hang on, even during the hard times. The times that I held you while you poured your sadness out of your heart and into mine so we could share the burden. Proud that you not only know your true self, but wont waiver on that knowledge for any person who may try to make you question yourself. I'm proud of your heart. You are filled with a light that you shine brightly, especially for those that feel they are in the darkness.

Know this. No matter how many years you are alive, you will be my baby. I will always offer comfort and a lap to lay your head on when you feel the pressure of the world weighing on your heart. I will always try to meet you where you are, with an open mind that is willing to learn with you and from you.

I love you, Aria... more than I ever thought I was capable of loving another human being. I celebrate your life and every moment we have together. Thank you for letting me be your Mama.

Independence Day-Freeing Yourself From Facebook Negativity

There is something healing about de-cluttering your environment. At home, taking time to throw away useless items that are just taking up space and collecting dust, can make your home more relaxing and comfortable. In the office, cleaning your work space can make you a more productive person.

Facebook is no different. It is an environment that many of us choose to expose ourselves to on a daily basis. So why then, do we allow it to become cluttered with people who only seek to bring negativity into the world?

We all have hot buttons, prejudices, judgments, and topics that we feel driven to bring to light. There is no one that is immune to that, because we are human. That's what we do. It is in our very nature to want to be heard and acknowledged.

And that is OK as long as it is put forth in a way that is educational, meaningful, insightful, and is not demeaning or derogatory. There is no excuse for negativity, period. There is nothing OK about hurting/putting down people or groups of people to make your point.

It's also important to remember that we only see that individuals side of their point. When people post about the negativity in their life, we don't know the whole story..and to get involved is treading a slippery slope.

Sometimes, I am too empathetic. I worry about hurting feelings by blocking out the negative posts or people who post them. Why is this?  I would not invite this negativity into my home. I would not allow, for a minute, someone to speak in a prejudiced way in my home. I would not surround myself with people who choose to stand on the backs of others to make themselves look better. So why do I allow this on Facebook?

The fact is, we need to treat Facebook like it is a very real environment. Whether it's via social media or direct interaction, negativity breeds negativity. On many occasions, I have felt myself feeling angry at something I have read. Specifically with posts that are demeaning to a person or group of people. I need to block that. There is no reason that I should expose myself to that over and over again.

So on this Independence Day, I urge you to remember your right to make the choice to free yourself from drama, negativity, and anything else that you are allowing in to your head, heart, and space. I know I will be.

OCD- It's So Cool, Everyone Says They Have It.

It seems to be all the rage to say, "I have OCD." There are memes, songs, cartoons, and all manner of other things that show something being askew or off kilter and if it bothers you, BAM you have obsessive compulsive disorder.

The fact is, OCD can be debilitating for many people if it is untreated. Most people who are agoraphobic have untreated OCD. People who have severe anxiety that seems to have no obvious trigger..are in fact people who probably have OCD.

Sure, a disdain for things like imbalance, discordance, or chaos can be signs..but it runs much deeper than that. There are several categories of it that people tend to fall into. Because I'm willing to bare my brain for you, I will share my own experiences. Sometimes my obsessive thinking can cause anxiety, but for the most part, I've learned to accept it as part of life and laugh about just how messed up I am sometimes. So laugh along with me.

1. The Washers- the obsession with this type is contamination. People who struggle with this may spend hours a day scrubbing and washing their bodies and surfaces.

Living in an ever changing home with teens in and out, a husband who's a collector (I'm putting that nicely) and is always working on different projects, and pets is what finally made me stop obsessing over cleaning myself and my surroundings. Teens do things like hide dirty dishes in their rooms, spill things and then claim amnesia when you ask why they didn't clean it up, trash their bedroom two seconds after it's been cleaned. It was either learn to cope or go absolutely insane on a daily basis. I used to cry about it, now I walk through my house like a horse with blinders..

Side note: if you are sick, just stay away from me. That will help keep me from thinking about getting sick for the next three days after I've seen you. I'm not grossed out by you..but you are in fact contagious.

2. The Checkers- Checking things like locks or appliances. Checking and rechecking to make sure that they are safe. OR checking your body for symptoms of illness.

This was by far the worst of what I dealt with. I wasn't so concerned about the safety of my house as I was the fact that I was convinced I was dying of some terrible disease or illness. I used to check my blood pressure up to ten times a day until I made my husband hide the monitor. I used to check my legs for blood clots (I still struggle with this one) because every little ache meant that a clot had formed and was just waiting to dislodge and go to my lungs to kill me instantly. I looked like a person doing aerobics from the 80's, stopping often to make sure my heart rate was where it should be. I could go on and on with this. I used to be a mess about worrying and checking my physical body. A spider bite? Forget about it, that thing was going to fester and babies were going to erupt from my skin and kill me. I mean, really, can you say IRRATIONAL???

3. The Doubters and Sinners- Fearing that if you aren't perfect, didn't do something perfect, or weren't completely perfect from a religious viewpoint..that something terrible would happen.

I can thank my grandparents for instilling the fear of God into me. I remember laying in bed and praying for hours before falling asleep each night. Looking back I realize that at the age of 6 years old, I probably didn't know how to sin. Nevertheless, Satan was gonna come steal me away and I worried about it ALL the time. Now? No. I have to believe that if there is a God, that he is one of love and forgiveness. After all, he made me. I must make that dude laugh all the time. (or shake his head in wonder) I now save my prayers for those that need the positive energy. I pray in a meditative way to help calm me down when I am stressed. I certainly do not fear the guy with the horns and pitch fork coming after me.

4.  The Counters and Arrangers- Obsession with order and symmetry, Superstitions about numbers , colors, or arrangements.

I may struggle with this a little bit. But, come on! Symmetry is important! I think that laying on your back in a room and counting ceiling tiles is totally normal. Counting steps, the number of times you brush your teeth, the number of paper towels you are using, how many steps it is from my side of the bed to the bathroom (14, unless there are obstacles) is all normal! I don't get stressed about it, it's just a thing. Some people wash their body a certain way...I'm a great counter. Superstitions, no way. That's my husband. I let him worry about hats on beds, breaking mirrors, and knocking on wood. My brain has no room to worry about those things.

5. Hoarders- Fear that something bad will happen if you throw things away. Keeping garbage and other objects because you fear that you will need them, someday.

Hallelujah! I don't have any problems with this!! I would seriously let a bulldozer ( a small one) come through my house and get rid of all of the crap that everyone else has accumulated. PLEASE! Did you read number one? I can't clean around crap. Period. Very near me is a box labeled "electronic parts". It is my husbands. You tell me who has the problem with letting things go. Hint! It isn't me.

One symptom of OCD is intrusive thoughts. I used to get really scared of the thoughts I would have. They happen suddenly and without warning. To a person without OCD, these thoughts can seem insane. They are not, it's just an anxious over thinking brain trying to gain control of a situation that you subconsciously or consciously fear. Now I voice them out loud and my husband reassures me that although I am crazy and funny, I am harmless. Some of my recurring intrusive thoughts were:

"What if I just drive my car right off the bridge?"
"What if I punched my husband while he's asleep?"
" What if I pick that knife up and just cut myself with it? Or worse yet, cut someone else with it?"
" What if I have a heart attack in the bathtub and no one finds me for a long time?"

These are the types of thoughts that can really make a person with OCD believe they are unsafe, UNTIL that person learns that they are in fact probably the least likely person to do anything horrible or scary...their brain is just playing tricks on them.

Yes, OCD is something that happens. It can be debilitating for some people, and it used to be for me. My point is that it's not cool to say you have a problem with it. Maybe it bothers you that a letter is out of place, or there is one red skittle mixed in with the green skittles. That does not mean you have OCD. It means you are visually bothered by certain things.

Also, even though it's a pain right in the butt to deal with this.. you are usually more analytical and intelligent. So turn that frown upside down my friend, there's a positive to every negative.

(I keep reminding myself of that when I get the urge to clean the baseboards with a toothbrush.)

Divine Intervention

This is our boy, our son, our other pride and joy...Brandon.

I've never shared the story of how the universe blessed us with him.

Several years ago, Aria brought Brandon home after school. It wasn't too unlike most times that she had brought friends over except that this child was quiet, curled in on himself, and spoke with the quietest voice..only when we directly asked a question. He quickly became a regular visitor who still maintained the same shy demeanor and did everything possible to make himself as small and hidden as possible. I remember hearing Brandon and Aria laughing in another room and thinking that she had such a gentle way with him. She allowed him to be himself with no pressure and no judgement. Yet, as soon as he would see us or any other adult, he would go silent and quietly disappear into himself, again.

It was the day after New Years. It was snowing and below freezing outside at around ten pm. Aria was gone for the weekend and Kendrick and I were snuggled on the couch watching a movie..when we heard a faint knock on the door. Not hearing a car pull up we figured it was the wind blowing. Then we heard it again. There stood Brandon. Soaking wet, shivering, and looking terrified and sad. That was the night that he came into our home, never to leave again.

Brandon was a child of parents who had addiction issues. All of his life he was shipped from family member to family member. He was diagnosed as being on the Autism spectrum and was put on Social Security at a young age. His family pumped him full of pills that suppressed his personality in the attempt to make him silent. He saw many forms of abuse at the hands of his family, more than anything, emotional abuse. For a time, he lived with an aunt who belittled him and set him apart from her own kids and didn't hesitate to let him know that he was not HER kid. On holidays and birthdays, he watched his cousins and family open gifts and learned at a young age that he should feel lucky to just have a place to stay. One Christmas, he was given a pair of hedge clippers..because that's what they expected of him. He was to do the household chores, go to school, and stay silent.

After moving in with his Grandmother, it was much of the same treatment. His diagnosis continued to allow her to cash a check in his name. She had very strict rules and expectations for the jobs he was to perform in the home. Aria was not allowed to visit except for a couple of times, during which, his grandmother made it very clear that she was not welcome and she did not approve of their friendship. It seemed that Brandon's family wanted to isolate him from the outside world as much as possible. We can only speculate why.

The night Brandon showed up at our doorstep he was shaking in fear, hunger, and cold. He was late shoveling his grandmother's driveway. As punishment, he spent four days in his room with no contact from anyone, including his grandmother. She did not feed him. She turned off the internet..and made him sit alone.

Something in Brandon finally came to the surface, and he realized that he couldn't take it anymore. In his light sweatshirt and jeans, he slipped out of the house and walked to ours, hoping to be let in and be fed.

Divine intervention made sure we were home to receive him, warm him, feed him. For the first time since we had met him, he talked..and couldn't stop talking. He had been starved of human affection and attention and it showed.

Fast forward to now.

Brandon has become a young man who never ceases to amaze us. He is intelligent, so intelligent. Every person that has witnessed the change since he's been here is amazed, and says so. He is no longer that withdrawn and quiet boy. He is a young man who laughs, tells jokes, and walks taller with pride in himself.

 Two weeks ago I asked him how he felt about himself now. His answer, "I used to think that being autistic was a disability. Now I see that it just makes me a little different. And that's OK. I realized that I am capable of more than I ever thought. I know that the people in my life that treated me badly, did it because they had problems, not me. I know what it's like to have parents that love me more than my birth parents did, and that I deserve that, because I'm a good person that has something to offer the world."

And he's right. Oh so right.

Today he graduated from high school. His teachers and guidance counselor have worked endlessly with us to get to this point. This is the first year that Brandon passed all of his classes the whole year. He did so well, he was asked to co-teach a chemistry class. He inspired his science teacher so much, that he began to fight for Brandon's rights as an individual, not just someone with a diagnosis. Brandon has become so empowered. He speaks for himself at his IEP meetings. HE arranges the level of help he needs. One of the first things we did when he came to live with us was to stop Social Security and stop the onslaught of medical appointments. We wanted to show him that he had value...and that his value had nothing to do with money.

That's our Brandon. It's a story that makes me cry at the thought of it. His growth as a person is inspiring. We love him more and more every day.

Our wish for him is to continue to learn what a light he is in this world, that he is capable of more than anyone ever told him he was, and that he knows just how loved and lovable he really is.

What's In A Name

There are many things assigned to us at birth. Many of those things are not based on what your wants or feelings may be down the road. A parent takes that role for you. Sometimes this is OK. A person may feel a strong connection to their name after hearing it throughout their lifetime. Sometimes a person may feel it necessary to change their name to solidify their identity.

Especially in the case of trans* folk. Just like their gender was assigned to them, their name (usually associated with that gender) is assigned as well. This can be problematic. A name is important. It's something that shapes our identity.

My daughter changed her name several years ago. She did not feel her birth name aligned with her gender identity. At first, this was hard for me. I labored over a name for her the whole time I was pregnant. It meant so much to me. I called her that before I even held her in my arms...and yet, in a flash, that name was no longer suitable or wanted by her.

I grieved that. The night she told us that she had decided to change her name, I sat outside for hours crying. I felt like I was losing her in a way.

After a couple of hours contemplating this, I realized just how ridiculous this was. She was still my girl, my baby, my child. How selfish of me to assume that because I chose her name, that she would identify with it in a positive way.

She could have changed her name twenty times, and it wouldn't change who she was as a person.

This raises the question.. why do we (as a whole) feel it is a burden to change our thinking, our habits, and our behavior towards a person who finally understands what their identity really is? Should this not be a celebration?

What if we changed our thinking instead of asking a person to deny their true identity? "Congratulations, you are so sure of who you are! That's an amazing thing!!!"

And it is an amazing thing! Something that many of us take for granted. It is like being reborn, except this time, you absolutely know who you are!

To those of you going through this, I honor you. I hope you find the strength and joy to stand firm in your identity. It is truly worth being celebrated!

Choosing Happiness

This statement is so profound. I've thought on it many times and contemplated the depth of it.

The door, to me, means my life. Everything in it. My family, friends, my mind, my thoughts, my body, my  intentions.. the door is everything.

We are bombarded with negativity like we are civilians in a war torn country. It can come from all sides, unexpectedly and violently. It can come softly with just a whisper. Sometimes, it is an underlying and invisible entity that we are unaware of. Like cancer, it can eat away at us from the inside out without even knowing it's happening. Getting stuck in rut of negativity happens easily. You are going through life and before you know it you realize you are bogged down and your wheels are stuck.

If we are lucky, there are still those around us that will lend a hand. And that helps, temporarily. It is a band-aid for a deep gash. The only true way to sew up the gash or get your wheels back on solid ground is to change your thinking. It is a cycle of self perpetuated abuse that only you can stop.

"My life is hard." Everyone's life is hard. It's called life. It is inherently hard. It's like working out, the more you face the pain..the more you grow and become strong. Life is not about being easy, it's about weathering the hard stuff and building a better you!

"No matter what I do, I can't seem to be happy." Happiness is a state of mind, not a state of doing. It comes from within. You want your life to be filled with happiness? You must first find out how to be happy in a very deep way. Plant a seed of intention and foster it within yourself. If you find that negativity from outside sources is causing your beautiful flower of happiness to wither, then block out that negativity and shine your internal light on it. It HAS to come from within, not without.

"I am always broke." To me, this is one of the smallest reasons to allow yourself to feel negatively. I have been poor enough that I've had to ask for food. I've had enough money that I've been comfortable. Either way, I never gave it the power to take away my internal sense of happiness. I've seen rich people who are unhappy in life and poverty stricken people who light up with a joy that is contagious. Money is a thing..and things are not internal. They can only create a false sense of happiness.

"Everyone seems to hurt me." Life is a tide that ebbs and flows. People will come into your life and people will go out of your life. We are all part of one big ocean. It is a fact that there will be times in your life that a person will let you down, not live up to your expectations, or walk away. This is why it is so important to always hold on to our sense of self..and foster it. You can choose to rant and rave about the people you interact with, or you can see them as a gift for a time, until that time comes to an end. Just realize, that when the end comes, you are left with yourself. This is why it is important to know how to be happy inside. The rest is a bonus.

"I'm always sick or in pain." Apart from the fact that sometimes we are faced with illness or injury outside our realm of control, negative thinking can perpetuate illness and pain. Our bodies respond to it in a very real way and it will become problematic. Only you can fix that. You do have the power to heal pain and illness caused by negativity, all by yourself! That is amazing power!

As a whole, we've become OK with complaining. We accept it as part of life. I challenge you to become aware of your own state of negativity. Find the positive..focus on it. Rid your life of things and people that only contribute to negative space you are existing in. Make it a positive space..only leave room for more positive to come into it.

We are human. We are not perfect beings. This is life's work, but your life will be richer because of it.

Life Lessons By Proxy

Some of the hardest lessons in our lives are brought on by choices that other's have made affecting us. Although it's not always pleasant, there is always something to be learned by the experience.

 Some people may treat you as though you are disposable. You are anything but. You are beautifully and wonderfully made and worth oh so much.

Don't waste your precious life seeking acceptance or love from someone who has already decided they don't want that from you. There are many other people who do want that!

Drinking will not make your problems go away. There is no answer at the bottom of a bottle, there is only emptiness.

It is far easier to take the time to right what or who you have wronged rather than live forever with the guilt and sadness over your decisions.

You will feel sad, mad, content, restless, anxious and much more over the course of your life. None of these feelings last forever. It's good to remember that when you are in the midst of them.

You don't have to accept negativity from people. You can walk away and say, "I don't want that in my life.' It is OK and healthy.

It's healthy to take some time for yourself. If you don't take care of your needs, you will have less to offer others.

Some people will never understand you. Some people will never even try to understand you. Stay your course, only YOU have to understand you.

Kind words can resonate for years and years.

Negativity is born of poor self worth. If someone is putting you down, they have the problem, not you.

Sometimes our family aren't blood relatives. They are the people who stand by you and support you with no expectation to benefit from it.

If the first thing you think to say is negative, swallow it and try again. There is always something positive to focus on. ALWAYS.

Don't regret or resent the hard times in your life, you are strong because of them!

Never hesitate to tell others that you love them. Say it often. Hug often. Tell people what they mean to you, often. There is no promise of a tomorrow.

It's OK to get scared, but don't let your fear stop you from living a full life.

YOU have the power to change the negative patterns you may have been born into.You can stop them and teach younger generations a new way of thinking and living.

Whether or not you personally agree with what someone is saying, listen anyways. They may teach you something new.

Honor your elders. They have lived, seen, and experienced more than we have. Cherish them and your time with them.

A Glimpse Inside

Just a note: I'm not writing this to garner sympathy or attention. Sometimes I get asked to do things, sometimes people question me repeatedly, sometimes I feel like a big let down because I have to say I can't do things..normal things. Things that most people wouldn't even consider.
So I thought I would give you a glimpse into my world with Reflexive Sympathetic Dystrophy or as it's sometimes called, Complex Regional Pain Syndrome.

First off, let me tell you what  happens to someone with RSD/CRPS.
 The key symptom is prolonged pain that may be constant and, in some people, extremely uncomfortable or severe. The pain may feel like a burning or “pins and needles” sensation, or as if someone is squeezing the affected limb. The pain may spread to include the entire arm or leg, even though the precipitating injury might have been only to a finger or toe. Pain can sometimes even travel to the opposite extremity. There is often increased sensitivity in the affected area, such that even light touch or contact is painful (called allodynia).

People with CRPS also experience constant or intermittent changes in temperature, skin color, and swelling of the affected limb. This is due to abnormal microcirculation caused by damage to the nerves controlling blood flow and temperature. An affected arm or leg may feel warmer or cooler compared to the opposite limb. The skin on the affected limb may change color, becoming blotchy, blue, purple, pale, or red.

Other common features of CRPS include:

• changes in skin texture on the affected area; it may appear shiny and thin
• abnormal sweating pattern in the affected area or surrounding areas
• changes in nail and hair growth patterns
• stiffness in affected joints
• problems coordinating muscle movement, with decreased ability to move the affected body part, and
• abnormal movement in the affected limb, most often fixed abnormal posture (called dystonia) but also tremors in or jerking of the affected limb.

These are just the basic symptoms..the list is actually very long and overwhelming, but I think you get the picture.

A typical day for me varies depending on my symptoms. Sometimes they are closely tied to the weather, temperature, overuse of my ankle and foot, shoes that don't fit just right, socks that are too tight or too loose, fever, other illness, lack of sleep...and many times, I have a flare up for no reason at all. My ankle and foot suddenly swell up to the point of not being able to fit a shoe on it and I just have to wait it out. As you can see, there is no consistency or pattern. This makes it hard because I can be having an OK day and then suddenly be bed ridden.

I have a saint of a husband who not only does a lot of the household chores, he puts my socks and shoes on, shaves my legs (because he knows the amount of pressure that will hurt the least on my bad leg), he goes grocery shopping, he works around my sleep or lack of sleep, he does EVERYTHING in his power to make sure I am in the least amount of pain possible by doing things that most people take for granted. More than anything, he holds me and lets me cry it out when I can't hold it in anymore..and he reminds me that maybe the next hour wont hurt so bad.

I have pain medication. I have very strong pain meds. The problem with depending on them is that I don't want to be an addict. They make me tired, lethargic, itchy, nauseous, constipated, and they cause me to have very painful gallbladder attacks when I use them as often as prescribed. They also precipitate anxiety attacks and bouts of sadness, because they are depressants. None of the pain medications I have tried have ever taken my pain away. They just made me care less about it because I was drugged up. I have been asked to do a trial surgery where they implant a device along my spine that will send confusing pulses to my brain to try to override the pain signals. Sounds perfect right? Who doesn't want to opt for a surgery on their spinal cord? Apart from the fear that causes me, people who have RSD are at a much higher risk of it spreading to other limbs when they are further injured. (like surgery) 

Sometimes, I feel like my life has become one great attempt to adapt. I have to use wheelchairs in stores or when I know I will need to walk for more than a few minutes. Do you have any idea how embarrassing that is for me? I see elderly people walking on their own two feet and yet I am forced to use a wheelchair. And because my disability isn't always obvious to the naked eye, I feel judged. People can't see the pain I am in..they don't know what it's like to feel like someone has dumped lighter fluid all down your leg and set it on fire. They don't know that every step feels like a knife is coming up through my bone. 

I wouldn't want them to know that kind of pain. I just wish that people wouldn't assume that because I "look" normal, that I am just making it up. 

Sometimes I feel like I hold in my own feelings and pain to keep from drawing attention to myself. I'm a big girl. This week alone, I was invited to an event where I am supposed to receive and award for volunteering in the community, but I wont go because I don't want to go in my wheelchair. I was asked to a dance with friends, but I wont go..because it's not fun to watch everyone else move around like they are weightless and have people coaxing me to dance because they don't know that I just can't do it. For 4 years in a row, I've missed an annual celebration with friends because it's held in the woods..and I can't hike anymore. I can't drive long distances because it hurts to stay in one position, so road trips are really hard. I can't run around with my niece like I dream of. I can't completely relax around pets and kids because I have to guard my leg, because if they brush up against it might make me cry in pain. 

I don't know what my body will allow me to do until it's time to do it. I wont know if I will be too tired or need to sleep because RSD also attacks the limbic system, and that controls my sleeping patterns. Some nights I fall right asleep, and some nights I am awake all night...like tonight. Some nights I lay in bed and cry because I am in so much pain, and I know that my husband is asleep and I won't worry him with my tears. 

Writing this is not only cathartic for me, I'm having a very tearful night, but I just need to get it out there. I've been living with this for almost four years and I still feel like I am answering the same questions, I am still explaining why I can't do something, and I am still feeling resentful when someone asks me to do things that I feel are obvious that I can't do. I know that sounds selfish, and maybe it is, but I need to say it. 

Everyone always tells me I'm resilient and positive. And I like to think I am! Almost always. Having RSD is just one of those things that I haven't been able to be positive about. No matter how I try to look at it, I can't see anything but what it's cost me and my family. And I hate that. 

It's rained for three days, I am in pain and hoping for sunshine and warmth. That's my hope. I also hope that sharing this with you has helped you understand something about me that I don't share with most people. My weak side. 

One more thing, please ask me questions directly if you have them. I would rather just answer them then feel like you are speculating or guessing. The more you understand, the easier it is for me. 

Here are some resources if you want to read more:

http://www.rsds.org/education.html

http://www.ninds.nih.gov/disorders/reflex_sympathetic_dystrophy/detail_reflex_sympathetic_dystrophy.htm

http://www.butyoudontlooksick.com/wpress/articles/written-by-christine/the-spoon-theory/

Pro-bullying vs. Anti-bullying

Boy, is this ever a hot button! I see pictures like the one above, all over the place on social media. Please know, I'm not targeting anyone specifically, I just want to share some information that I think is crucial when considering bullying.

The first thing to consider is that bullying is NOTHING like it was when you and I were kids. We lived in a time when generally speaking, parents were more involved in discipline. We lived in a time when social networking, cell phones, and email..didn't even exist. We lived in a time that weapons were not readily available, and if they were, we never considered using them to violate another person. Further more, we lived in a time when people didn't openly talk about being different (homosexual, transgender, learning challenges, poverty..etc), those things may have been whispered about, but there was not the inclusion in classrooms or the community, like there is now. In our time, people didn't openly come out about who they might be.

What is bullying? It is using strength or superiority to influence or intimidate a person, with the intent to force them to do what you want or harm their emotional/physical/social well being.

Domestic violence is a form of bullying..as a whole, our society takes that very seriously. Yet, in essence, it includes the very same behavior that many kids are now facing. Tell me, what is the difference that one is OK and one isn't?

Sexual harassment in the workplace is a form of bullying, again, that includes the same behavior that kids are now faced with. Yes, sexual harassment of kids by other kids is a very real problem.

These are just two example of types of bullying that are adamantly fought against, yet demonstrate the very same behavior and motives as the types of bullying that our kids are facing in school.

Do I think that there are times when students, kids, people, cry wolf and abuse the word victim? YES I DO. Absolutely, I do. I've seen it in my own personal life and I've seen it in professional settings when working with kids. Do I feel that we really need to teach what resiliency is? Again, yes. In fact, I feel so strongly about it that I've written two blog posts just on that topic. Do I agree with the sentiment that letting kids stand up for (by) themselves and learn to cope is enough to address a bully? NO.

One can not cope as well when they are being bombarded daily with soul crushing, threatening, scary behavior from peers. It is not possible to cope when you are immersed in fear for your safety. Again, safety means physical, mental, emotional, and social. Sorry folks, that's  psychology. Trauma does not allow us behave in ways that are normal and healing while it is occurring. That is fact.

Should kids/adults be taught to stand up for themselves? Yes, IF it can be done without threat to their safety. There is no situation with a bully that is safe. They will systematically behave in a way that will diminish your sense of self worth and sense of safety. Again, that is fact. THAT is bullying.

Saying our kids need to just suck it up and learn from it is ignoring bullying for what it really is. It is telling kids that their struggles are merely their own and it undermines their want to get help when they need it the most.

We can't continue to ignore this problem. Sweeping it under the rug only empowers bullies to continue their behavior.

I ask you to consider these things before making rash judgments against anti-bullying programs. I ask you to consider how you would feel if your child was driven to suicide because they feared for their life. I also ask you to consider our changing world, how technological and social changes have created a place where bullying has not only changed, but it has flourished.

If you don't want to wear shirts or ribbons to show your solidarity against bullying, that is OK. What is not OK is ignoring a very real and very scary problem. Please do your research. You need only to use google to see the devastation that bullying is causing kids and adults.

I leave you with these frightening statistics:

• Suicide is the third leading cause of death among young people, resulting in about 4,400 deaths per year, according to the CDC. For every suicide among young people, there are at least 100 suicide attempts. Over 14 percent of high school students have considered suicide, and almost 7 percent have attempted it.
• Bully victims are between 2 to 9 times more likely to consider suicide than non-victims, according to studies by Yale University
• A study in Britain found that at least half of suicides among young people are related to bullying
• 10 to 14 year old girls may be at even higher risk for suicide, according to the study above
• According to statistics reported by ABC News, nearly 30 percent of students are either bullies or victims of bullying, and 160,000 kids stay home from school every day because of fear of bullying

Not Step Parent But BONUS Parent

I've always disliked the term 'step-parent'. To me it seemed lesser. The original use of the word derives from an Old English word, steop, which means bereave. It was a term used for children who were orphans. Our daughter was never an orphan. Nor are most of the children who are in similar parental situations like ours.

Being a bonus parent is hard. At the beginning of my relationship with Kendrick, at least 90% of our arguments revolved around parenting styles. I was stuck in my ways. He was just developing his ways. It was not uncommon to retreat to a quiet place after our daughter went to bed and argue about a decision that was made regarding her. Typically, I was the defensive and angry one out of the two of us. I couldn't come to terms with the fact that I had to learn how to incorporate two styles of parenting into one. Rather, I didn't feel it was fair. After all, I was the one who raised her most of her life. How could he think that he knew what was best?

It became clear, rather quickly, that if we didn't work this out that our relationship would suffer and fall apart. Despite either of our personal feelings about parenting, we loved each other deeply. We wanted this to work. We wanted to be a happy couple and a happy family. So what to do?

We went to the source. Our child. Without asking her to choose sides, we talked openly about how she felt about how each of us handled situations. Her words came fast and clear, "you contradict Kendrick. He wants what's best for me but you think he's too harsh, but he really isn't."

Holy crap, was that a blow to my ego as a parent! To have my ten year old tell me that I was in the wrong was, at the very least...hard to hear.

From that moment on, I made it my goal to stop my contradicting, to let him take a more active role, to let him LOVE her (because that's also part of discipline) in his unique way. It was when I started doing that, that things became so much easier. In fact, having put my ego aside, I realized that he and I agreed on much more than I thought we did. He also forced me to look at things from different angles. For the first time as a parent, I realized that perhaps..just perhaps..I didn't know everything.

Bonus parents are given a hard job from the beginning. Not only are they walking into a situation that is typically born of things like divorce or the death of another parent, but they are viewed as aliens. No one will walk up to a birth mom and tell her that she's raising her kids wrong (usually), but family is quick to point out when they perceive a bonus parent is wrong or unfair. Sometimes, the kids are already coming from a tough situation and feel threatened by the bonus parent. In short, their job is much harder than people really understand.

Today, I was reminded of our hard work as parents, how blessed our daughter is for her bonus parent, and just how far we have evolved as a family.

Our kids are graduating and leaving home soon. My husband and I laid down and held each other while we cried together about the end of this era. Reminiscing, talking about what we will miss most, how things will change,

 It made me think back to the beginning of our parenting together, and it made me cry even harder thinking of the joy that he has brought me, our kids, and our home..because I gave him the room to be the dad that he wanted to be.

Resiliency

Having worked in the mental health field and volunteering in the community, I've noticed a trait that some people have and some people lack. It's a trait that I feel is mandatory to survive the hardships, move on from our past, and to flourish as a human being.

Resiliency is the ability to hold or recover our shape. It is a type of strength that can't be broken by events or people.

I've watched my daughter struggle through some very difficult things in her teen years. Things that could render a person unable to function. Events that could have made her bitter and angry and unwilling to move forward... but she chooses to keep fighting. On the other hand, I've seen people crumble from past issues. They are unwilling to let go and they live in a constant state of being a victim.

I worry about our youth. I worry that we, as a society, are not fostering resiliency. It has become acceptable to wear our emotional scars like a thick coat...keeping out the possibilities that life holds. It is becoming normal to talk more about our hurts than our triumphs. Worse yet, there is an attentiveness offered to those who choose to stay in their painful past, and those who are living and trying get ignored.

It is now considered harsh to tell a child to 'get back up and keep going'. We allow them to stay in their pain, be it physical or emotional, without any encouragement to find the positive in the situation or moving on from their pain. I do believe that all negative situations have a positive side to them. Call me Pollyanna, but it has kept me alive and thriving.

Do not misunderstand me. I am not suggesting that we ignore mental health issues, abuse issues, or any other issue that is damaging. I am suggesting that we also focus on teaching each other that we do not have to let our pain define who we are. We can choose to see that it is the surviving and growing that defines us.

I have interacted with people who live in the past. They are very hard to maintain relationships with because they leave no room in their hearts for the positive that could occur. Their dialogue becomes a revolving door of pain and suffering, spinning so fast that I can't stop it. These people often spend their lives feeling very alone, not understanding that their refusal to get out of that cycle is what's keeping others away. They are quick to blame others for being mean and uncaring..but it's really hard to get your arms around someone who is thick in the layers of their own pain.

I rarely talk about the abuse I suffered as a child. Not because I am ashamed, but because I am not defined by it. I am often asked how I have been able to move on from the situations I lived through..my answer is always, "why would I want to stay there in that ugliness when there is so much more that is beautiful to experience?"

These are things we need to remind each other and our children of. Life is full of wonderful, beautiful, breath taking moments..but we have to be willing to let go of the blinding pain to experience them.

What It's Like In Dental Hell

I've been MIA for a long time. A month and a half to be exact. Please forgive me, I've been in dental hell. You can't convince me it's not a place..cause I've been there.

In the last month, I've had five procedures done. Before you give me grief about flossing and taking care of my teeth, let me assure you that I do. Obsessively. Apparently growing up poor meant that the dental care I did get was shoddy..at best. It was like Satan himself went to drill a little bit and unearthed a tidal wave of decay and pain under those flimsy fillings.

I wont bore you with the details of what I had done to my teeth. I will instead, bore you with the details of what I did to pass the time while I was out of commission. Besides cry....a lot.

1. I ate an abundance of mushy food. Got any good variations on the old mashed potato recipes? I do. About five hundred of them. If you ever have a mashed potato party, I'm the girl to call.

2. I read at least ten books, which would have been OK..except that one of them was The Fault in Our Stars. I cried so hard that I nearly hyperventilated. I know, I sure know how to have a good time! Kendrick found me in the bathtub in the fetal position with snot running down my face. I assured him I was just having an emotional meltdown and to leave me in my misery.

3. Laid awake in bed wondering if I would ever sleep for more than three hours at a clip. My life turned into a series of naps. I literally lost a month of my life..gone..poof.. sayonara.

4. I took enough ibuprofen to make my liver start to pack it's bloody belongings and threaten to leave my body. If you know me, you know that I NEVER take that stuff. This past month I was taking enough to become a spokeswoman for Motrin. We will just skim over the details of what it did to my digestive system. Let's just say that I could have also been a spokeswoman for Charmin.

5. I contemplated sneaking into the garage and finding pliers to yank my teeth out. I wish I was kidding. Some insane part of my brain was reasoning that it would be a split second of pain and then it would be over. Thankfully, logic reigned and my teeth are still intact.

6. I stayed in pajamas and only got dressed to go to the dentist. More people saw me without a bra than I'd like to admit. If you made the mistake of coming to my house in the last month, I'm sorry for the emotional trauma I've caused you. I owe you. My boobs owe you.

7. I decided to try a heftier pain killer. Aka, I got ridiculously stoned. It didn't help with the pain but it made me itch like I was a crackhead on a binge. That's a joy. Note to self, don't take those pills again unless I'm sitting in an oatmeal bath and loaded up on benadryl.

8. I tried every type of topical oral pain reliever that was ever made. Why? Because my husband was so worried about me that he made it a priority to go to every single drug store in a hundred mile radius to find something 'better'. It usually just resulted in me slurring my words and drooling..which then made him worry I was having a stroke.

9. I ignored a lot of phone calls. People began to worry that I had died and no one had told them. I got text messages asking where I was, was I OK, did I fall off the face of the earth? Most of the time I didn't respond. I felt like I was playing a role in a mystery. It was kind of a precursor to seeing who would show up at my funeral...without the actual dying part.

10. I allowed my family to eat fast food. It was like a dream come true for them. To be fair, I sat glowering at them like I was a jealous girlfriend. The thought of standing at the stove to cook was enough to make me weak in the knees..so they got lots of crap food, and I got to lay in bed without worrying that they were starving to death.

Fingers crossed, today was hopefully the last of the big procedures. Now I just need to heal and the nerves in my teeth (and my head) need to calm the hell down so I can drink a glass of cold water without feeling like lightening is coming out of nowhere and striking me in the face, like God himself has a personal vendetta against me and is smoting me with pain that made me wish I was just gonna give birth again.

My kid is a smart ass

        The following is an essay my son wrote about lying. It was something I asked him to think on due to an increase in lying about silly little things. In true B format, this was his response.

Lying is when someone purposefully, or knowingly, gives someone else information that is wrong. This can be a major issue when one is to be trusted, as a person doesn't know when they will give correct answers or not. Lying has been an issue ever since creatures have communicated with one another, to lie and get the upper hand against the other. It arose most likely then from the survival instinct, proving to be a useful tool against those who had not yet discovered it. Some used trust to make bonds with others, to form communities because they found safety in numbers. And still some lacked the mental capacity for concepts such as lying and as such never developed that tool, and could have fallen victim to those who had. Then at some point man came along, and improved upon lying, made it into a science, before there even was sciences. Man used deception in strategies to hunt its prey. Like the suspected strategy of velociraptors, where one would come up and take the prey’s attention make it think it was far enough to escape if needed. But then as they had its attention, a few others were coming around behind it and on it’s sides to kill it. Such is the way deception was used for hunting, but once man had advanced far enough that it could overcome its feeble bodies and overpower its prey, they moved deception to each other. Man became the deceiver and the deceived, with many things such as religion, magic, politics, optical illusions, guerrilla warfare, and more. When there was no beast who could challenge men, they turned on each other. Devising ever more complex  weapons to defeat their enemy. And taking ever more offence to any insult, anything to give them a reason to challenge the so called enemy.

        From the previously stated situation one unifying religion arises to take its followers and lead everyone from the violence to, more or less, peace. Christianity at some point in that turmoil had arisen and taken a small hold, however, they were widely persecuted. Amongst the most despised religions of its era, but some how it had managed to gain favor enough with Rome to earn the Edict of Milan. This edict claimed that Christianity was no longer to be punished, but welcomed as the official religion of Rome, the superpower of its time, had just given Christianity some legitimacy. Through the years Christianity would grow, and flourish, with some compromises. One of which being Christmas, originally the Pagan winter solstice, a very spiritual time for what was the majority of the people then. Christmas was adopted as their holy savior Christ’s day of birth, to get more pagans to join their church. Christianity after the fall of Rome had some influence in Britain, but not much. The invaders after the roman decline were not so peaceful, and wanted nothing tied to roman culture left behind. So they burned pillaged and slaughtered anyone the Romans had left, including many christian monasteries. But as time went on, the christian people had a plan. They were to change everything from the baseline up. They started by rewriting the heroes of the people they were being persecuted looked up to. One of these many heroes was Beowulf in the famous poem, Beowulf. They fundamentally changed the story as they inscribed it since no one besides the monks were literate at that point, the story was strictly vocal. But the monks changed that and made sure to get their agenda done with it too. As the monks wrote the poem of Beowulf they changed the story in subtle ways to push their ideology of peace and compassion over the current one of war and violence. Changing where the poem would have said gods, to god. introducing the story of cain and abel to the story. And in even more subtle ways by shifting the characters attitudes towards each other and making thin similarities between the characters of Beowulf and the characters in Christianity’s holy book. Then once the changes started taking hold they started setting up churches and converting more and more people. Christians had many values to teach the people in that culture, but one of the main ones was about honesty. If people could not trust one another to tell the truth then they could not coexist. They could not trade, or even make laws, because those laws were open to the peoples decisions, and if they were deceitful then the laws could not do their job to regulate properly and without bias. Then the culture unravels based on grudges that accumulate because the people cannot trust the laws to take care of their disputes. After many centuries of British culture developing and evolving slowly, a few set sail for India, trying to find a safer way. However these travelers did not reach India, they came to America.

        American culture is based on the British culture we came from, however since then it have had influences from just about every other culture that one can imagine. The base in British culture means that at its roots america was a christian nation. The values of the american society throughout history have changed little. The main values for the most part were wealth, honesty, opportunity, and intellect. Though many politics have been excluded from many of them. Many politics have had a lot of bad reputation over the years for having not-so-honest streaks. Some have outright lied to the public. As such there is an air of distrust between the public and politics. They just seem to be out for themselves, many feel. President Clinton claiming he did not have sexual relations with one of his interns, Monica Lewinsky. Previous governor Eliot Spitzer of New York had an affair with a prostitute which he denied. Chris Christie previous governor of New Jersey lied(most likely) about knowing 2 lanes of traffic being shut down to spite someone who had posed against him in his gubernatorial race. So there is quite a lot of mistrust, which leads to disinterest, with politics in the United States. And leads to low polling rates, such as the average polling rate of new yorkers is around 45% of those who are registered. So of the 20 or so million in new york, roughly 50% are eligible to vote after restrictions and such. After that about 45% of those end up voting. After that the winning candidate gets around 60% usually. So with those statistics the winning candidate usually only gets 13.5% of the New York population. This is mainly from disinterest with the politicians themselves. America viewed them as in it for themselves, laundering money, lying, and hiding behind smoke screens to get away with anything. This is what was the fear in ancient time with deceit, that anyone with a quick wit could lie their way out of paying for their actions, and it is still happening today.

        Lying is a serious problem in any culture, for all its people. The people need to rely on each other for support, for trade, for many things needed throughout the day and if they can’t then problems can come up like depression from isolation and many other mental disorders have been studied in other high intelligence animals, such as the african gray, to come from lack of interactions. Other implications could be endangering of people based on incorrect information, or other complications.

Morbid Children's Rhyme Time

We've all heard our share of nursery rhymes. I can remember being a kid and being terrified of them. Most of them are horrifying. I thought it would be fun to do a series of posts where I break down a nursery rhyme and express my own thoughts on it.

There Was An Old Woman Who Lived In a Shoe
(as if this image doesn't say enough?)

There was an old woman who lived in a shoe.

This line is obvious. Haven't you ever seen a shoe house? Where the heck did the woman find a shoe big enough to hold her and her millions of kids? Did she not ever question where it came from or worry that the owner was clearly a giant who would possibly come back to get his shoe and murder her and her family in the process??? You gotta think things through! How irresponsible. If you've got a shoe fetish so strong that you want to live in one, you probably should seek help.

She had so many children, she didn't know what to do.

Why didn't anyone ever teach her about birth control? Where are the fathers? How did her uterus not fall out, is an even better question. If you have so many children that you don't know what to do.. perhaps it's time to call in some help. There are lots of people who would love to adopt a child..COME ON LADY! I think it's time to stop sleeping around and possibly consider getting your tubes tied. I'm sure there's some clause under Obama care that could help you get it done. STOP HAVING SEX!

She gave them some broth without any bread;

Oh, well that's a healthy meal. What kid doesn't love JUST broth for a meal? If she had the means for some broth, couldn't she have kept the animal meat she got it from? Is she keeping all the good food to herself? Is she slowly starving the kids so that they will die off and make her life easier? Doesn't she know about programs like WIC? Again, I feel like she was hoarding kids instead of adopting them out. Instead of the crazy cat lady, she was the crazy kid lady. Let's face it.. it's never good to have any form of crazy. Someone get these kids a meal!!

And whipped them all soundly and put them to bed.

Did she ever consider that her kids were probably acting out because they were starving? Where the hell is child protective services?! It's great practice to whip your kids and send them to bed.. I mean, no need to worry that they wont wake up from the beating. Glad she could find the time to whip each of them, but couldn't find the time to scavenge some sort of food to feed them. Shows where her priorities are.

Seriously, this nursery rhyme scared the bajeezus out of me. I remember hearing it and just laying there paralyzed with fear. Are people still reading their kids these things? How have they not made it to a banned books list?