Sweet G is beginning to have a fear of doctors. I can't say that I blame him. He has had things done to him that would be considered torture if done to a prisoner of war. Exams and procedures that are very necessary have had to be done. As an adult there are times I know I should go have certain tests done and I don't because they are embarrassing, uncomfortable or painful. I choose to take my chances that everything is okay. My Sweet G has not had the option of choosing which tests and treatments he has received. He is at our mercy. I assure you that everything that has been done to my child is only because it is absolutely imperative for his well being. He doesn't always understand that fact though.
One of the many things that G's CP affects has been his eye alignment. I didn't know that eye alignment can affect the vision of a person. It actually can cause them to go blind in the weaker eye. The brain simply shuts that eye off to avoid the confusion that the incorrect eye alignment causes it.
G started seeing an eye doctor immediately after his release from the hospital. At first it was to check the health of his eyes due to his prematurity. Premature infants are at high risk of developing retinopathy of prematurity, resulting in blindness. Those eye visits were torture for him and me. They actually pry the baby's eyes open and place a metal object designed to keep the eye wide open in so they can check the retinas and the blood vessels of the eyes. I thank God that my brother was able to go with me to those visits and helped me through them.
Thank God Sweet G didn't develop ROP and didn't return to the eye doctor until he was around 18-24 months. It was pretty obvious that G's eye alignment was off and he had a lazy eye. We once again returned to the eye doctor. We started with our family eye doctor who has an eye alignment person come to his office once a month and see children with this problem. We did the whole eye patch thing for months. That was an ordeal. An ordeal that didn't work. Surgery was required to straighten his eyes. The first time he was two years old. They did surgery on one eye and it worked for a while. Two years ago he had surgery again. This time both eyes required surgery because the way that his eyes were turning put his eyesight in jeopardy.
A couple of years ago when they put drops in G's eyes to dilate them he began calling them rain drops. "Are they going to do the rain drops? I don't want rain drops." He not only said this at the eye doctor but at every doctor we have visited since. Thursday G had an eye appointment. We said there would be no rain drops. The nurse said there would be no rain drops. The doctor, however, decided that he needed the rain drops.
The nurse comes in and asks J to give Sweet G a big hug (code words for hold him down). They wrestle the poor child and pry his little eyes open as he yells, "You lied, you lied." After giving Daddy a few minutes to make up with G I took him to try and calm him down and keep him from calling the nurse a liar again. When I picked him up I said, "You know what we need to do?" G, without missing a beat said, "Yeah, find a new doctor." That was funny comment number one. The second hilarious thing he said was to the doctor as he was explaining his findings and his recommendations. I must tell you that G has drooled over the glasses since he started going there at 2 years old. He wants glasses and he wants them bad. The doctor was telling us that G did have a slight prescription for glasses but that "if he were my son I wouldn't get him glasses." Again without hesitation G says, "But I am not your son." He didn't mean it in a rude way. He is very literal and the comment of the doctor merely confused him. It was however very funny. But as we all know three is the charm. So, before we left he made one last hilarious comment. This time the receptionist got to witness his humor. As we were putting the sunglasses on his little face he said, "Hey, I look just like Stevie Wonder." At the same time he said it he got excited and his tone kicked in which caused him to sway his head and upper body back and forth repeatedly. It really was a great imitation of Stevie Wonder. Oh, what money I could make if only I caught these moments on video.
Saturday, October 23, 2010
Rain Drops and Eye Doctor Adventures
Sweet G is beginning to have a fear of doctors. I can't say that I blame him. He has had things done to him that would be considered torture if done to a prisoner of war. Exams and procedures that are very necessary have had to be done. As an adult there are times I know I should go have certain tests done and I don't because they are embarrassing, uncomfortable or painful. I choose to take my chances that everything is okay. My Sweet G has not had the option of choosing which tests and treatments he has received. He is at our mercy. I assure you that everything that has been done to my child is only because it is absolutely imperative for his well being. He doesn't always understand that fact though.
One of the many things that G's CP affects has been his eye alignment. I didn't know that eye alignment can affect the vision of a person. It actually can cause them to go blind in the weaker eye. The brain simply shuts that eye off to avoid the confusion that the incorrect eye alignment causes it.
G started seeing an eye doctor immediately after his release from the hospital. At first it was to check the health of his eyes due to his prematurity. Premature infants are at high risk of developing retinopathy of prematurity, resulting in blindness. Those eye visits were torture for him and me. They actually pry the baby's eyes open and place a metal object designed to keep the eye wide open in so they can check the retinas and the blood vessels of the eyes. I thank God that my brother was able to go with me to those visits and helped me through them.
Thank God Sweet G didn't develop ROP and didn't return to the eye doctor until he was around 18-24 months. It was pretty obvious that G's eye alignment was off and he had a lazy eye. We once again returned to the eye doctor. We started with our family eye doctor who has an eye alignment person come to his office once a month and see children with this problem. We did the whole eye patch thing for months. That was an ordeal. An ordeal that didn't work. Surgery was required to straighten his eyes. The first time he was two years old. They did surgery on one eye and it worked for a while. Two years ago he had surgery again. This time both eyes required surgery because the way that his eyes were turning put his eyesight in jeopardy.
A couple of years ago when they put drops in G's eyes to dilate them he began calling them rain drops. "Are they going to do the rain drops? I don't want rain drops." He not only said this at the eye doctor but at every doctor we have visited since. Thursday G had an eye appointment. We said there would be no rain drops. The nurse said there would be no rain drops. The doctor, however, decided that he needed the rain drops.
The nurse comes in and asks J to give Sweet G a big hug (code words for hold him down). They wrestle the poor child and pry his little eyes open as he yells, "You lied, you lied." After giving Daddy a few minutes to make up with G I took him to try and calm him down and keep him from calling the nurse a liar again. When I picked him up I said, "You know what we need to do?" G, without missing a beat said, "Yeah, find a new doctor." That was funny comment number one. The second hilarious thing he said was to the doctor as he was explaining his findings and his recommendations. I must tell you that G has drooled over the glasses since he started going there at 2 years old. He wants glasses and he wants them bad. The doctor was telling us that G did have a slight prescription for glasses but that "if he were my son I wouldn't get him glasses." Again without hesitation G says, "But I am not your son." He didn't mean it in a rude way. He is very literal and the comment of the doctor merely confused him. It was however very funny. But as we all know three is the charm. So, before we left he made one last hilarious comment. This time the receptionist got to witness his humor. As we were putting the sunglasses on his little face he said, "Hey, I look just like Stevie Wonder." At the same time he said it he got excited and his tone kicked in which caused him to sway his head and upper body back and forth repeatedly. It really was a great imitation of Stevie Wonder. Oh, what money I could make if only I caught these moments on video.
One of the many things that G's CP affects has been his eye alignment. I didn't know that eye alignment can affect the vision of a person. It actually can cause them to go blind in the weaker eye. The brain simply shuts that eye off to avoid the confusion that the incorrect eye alignment causes it.
G started seeing an eye doctor immediately after his release from the hospital. At first it was to check the health of his eyes due to his prematurity. Premature infants are at high risk of developing retinopathy of prematurity, resulting in blindness. Those eye visits were torture for him and me. They actually pry the baby's eyes open and place a metal object designed to keep the eye wide open in so they can check the retinas and the blood vessels of the eyes. I thank God that my brother was able to go with me to those visits and helped me through them.
Thank God Sweet G didn't develop ROP and didn't return to the eye doctor until he was around 18-24 months. It was pretty obvious that G's eye alignment was off and he had a lazy eye. We once again returned to the eye doctor. We started with our family eye doctor who has an eye alignment person come to his office once a month and see children with this problem. We did the whole eye patch thing for months. That was an ordeal. An ordeal that didn't work. Surgery was required to straighten his eyes. The first time he was two years old. They did surgery on one eye and it worked for a while. Two years ago he had surgery again. This time both eyes required surgery because the way that his eyes were turning put his eyesight in jeopardy.
A couple of years ago when they put drops in G's eyes to dilate them he began calling them rain drops. "Are they going to do the rain drops? I don't want rain drops." He not only said this at the eye doctor but at every doctor we have visited since. Thursday G had an eye appointment. We said there would be no rain drops. The nurse said there would be no rain drops. The doctor, however, decided that he needed the rain drops.
The nurse comes in and asks J to give Sweet G a big hug (code words for hold him down). They wrestle the poor child and pry his little eyes open as he yells, "You lied, you lied." After giving Daddy a few minutes to make up with G I took him to try and calm him down and keep him from calling the nurse a liar again. When I picked him up I said, "You know what we need to do?" G, without missing a beat said, "Yeah, find a new doctor." That was funny comment number one. The second hilarious thing he said was to the doctor as he was explaining his findings and his recommendations. I must tell you that G has drooled over the glasses since he started going there at 2 years old. He wants glasses and he wants them bad. The doctor was telling us that G did have a slight prescription for glasses but that "if he were my son I wouldn't get him glasses." Again without hesitation G says, "But I am not your son." He didn't mean it in a rude way. He is very literal and the comment of the doctor merely confused him. It was however very funny. But as we all know three is the charm. So, before we left he made one last hilarious comment. This time the receptionist got to witness his humor. As we were putting the sunglasses on his little face he said, "Hey, I look just like Stevie Wonder." At the same time he said it he got excited and his tone kicked in which caused him to sway his head and upper body back and forth repeatedly. It really was a great imitation of Stevie Wonder. Oh, what money I could make if only I caught these moments on video.
Monday, October 18, 2010
faites vous parlez le français
This afternoon when we arrived home from 2 1/2 hours of therapy G was pretty worn out and asked to lay in his bed and watch Spongebob. Of course I never miss an opportunity to snuggle up with my little boy so I decided to join him.
It didn't take long before I was bored with Mr. Squarepants and drifted off to sleep. I am not sure how long I was asleep but I can tell you that it was long enough for a little boy with fine motor skill deficits to find the remote and make some changes to the settings on the DVD.
I will let you in on a little secret of mine. I sleep like a rock. I have a hard time going to sleep at times but once I get there I don't want to leave. The person who can wake me up can perform miracles almost as amazing as when Jesus called Lazarus forth from the grave. I don't wake up fast.
Joey had come home to change clothes and eat a bite before leaving for his second job for the day and walked into G's room to tell us goodbye. I could hear him. I wanted to talk to him. I actually thought I was awake but obviously I hadn't quite arrived to full awareness.
Joey begins laughing and asks, "What are you watching?"
"Spongebob."
"Yes, I can see that it is Spongebob but what language is Spongebob speaking?"
Okay, that comment roused me enough that I could tell that Spongebob was speaking French. What happened? I know he was speaking English before I fell asleep.
G begins to giggle. "I changed the languages."
"Yes. We can see that you changed the languages. Spongebob is speaking French."
"I like watching it in different languages, giggle, giggle."
It took almost 10 minutes to get Spongebob to speak English again. Sweet G thought it was hilarious and was very proud of his accomplishment. I don't know how he did it but I sure wish that I could have seen it. I did learn a couple of things from this experience. 1) Never underestimate the abilities and curiosity of a child and 2) Spongebob still has his signature laugh even in French.
It didn't take long before I was bored with Mr. Squarepants and drifted off to sleep. I am not sure how long I was asleep but I can tell you that it was long enough for a little boy with fine motor skill deficits to find the remote and make some changes to the settings on the DVD.
I will let you in on a little secret of mine. I sleep like a rock. I have a hard time going to sleep at times but once I get there I don't want to leave. The person who can wake me up can perform miracles almost as amazing as when Jesus called Lazarus forth from the grave. I don't wake up fast.
Joey had come home to change clothes and eat a bite before leaving for his second job for the day and walked into G's room to tell us goodbye. I could hear him. I wanted to talk to him. I actually thought I was awake but obviously I hadn't quite arrived to full awareness.
Joey begins laughing and asks, "What are you watching?"
"Spongebob."
"Yes, I can see that it is Spongebob but what language is Spongebob speaking?"
Okay, that comment roused me enough that I could tell that Spongebob was speaking French. What happened? I know he was speaking English before I fell asleep.
G begins to giggle. "I changed the languages."
"Yes. We can see that you changed the languages. Spongebob is speaking French."
"I like watching it in different languages, giggle, giggle."
It took almost 10 minutes to get Spongebob to speak English again. Sweet G thought it was hilarious and was very proud of his accomplishment. I don't know how he did it but I sure wish that I could have seen it. I did learn a couple of things from this experience. 1) Never underestimate the abilities and curiosity of a child and 2) Spongebob still has his signature laugh even in French.
faites vous parlez le français
This afternoon when we arrived home from 2 1/2 hours of therapy G was pretty worn out and asked to lay in his bed and watch Spongebob. Of course I never miss an opportunity to snuggle up with my little boy so I decided to join him.
It didn't take long before I was bored with Mr. Squarepants and drifted off to sleep. I am not sure how long I was asleep but I can tell you that it was long enough for a little boy with fine motor skill deficits to find the remote and make some changes to the settings on the DVD.
I will let you in on a little secret of mine. I sleep like a rock. I have a hard time going to sleep at times but once I get there I don't want to leave. The person who can wake me up can perform miracles almost as amazing as when Jesus called Lazarus forth from the grave. I don't wake up fast.
Joey had come home to change clothes and eat a bite before leaving for his second job for the day and walked into G's room to tell us goodbye. I could hear him. I wanted to talk to him. I actually thought I was awake but obviously I hadn't quite arrived to full awareness.
Joey begins laughing and asks, "What are you watching?"
"Spongebob."
"Yes, I can see that it is Spongebob but what language is Spongebob speaking?"
Okay, that comment roused me enough that I could tell that Spongebob was speaking French. What happened? I know he was speaking English before I fell asleep.
G begins to giggle. "I changed the languages."
"Yes. We can see that you changed the languages. Spongebob is speaking French."
"I like watching it in different languages, giggle, giggle."
It took almost 10 minutes to get Spongebob to speak English again. Sweet G thought it was hilarious and was very proud of his accomplishment. I don't know how he did it but I sure wish that I could have seen it. I did learn a couple of things from this experience. 1) Never underestimate the abilities and curiosity of a child and 2) Spongebob still has his signature laugh even in French.
It didn't take long before I was bored with Mr. Squarepants and drifted off to sleep. I am not sure how long I was asleep but I can tell you that it was long enough for a little boy with fine motor skill deficits to find the remote and make some changes to the settings on the DVD.
I will let you in on a little secret of mine. I sleep like a rock. I have a hard time going to sleep at times but once I get there I don't want to leave. The person who can wake me up can perform miracles almost as amazing as when Jesus called Lazarus forth from the grave. I don't wake up fast.
Joey had come home to change clothes and eat a bite before leaving for his second job for the day and walked into G's room to tell us goodbye. I could hear him. I wanted to talk to him. I actually thought I was awake but obviously I hadn't quite arrived to full awareness.
Joey begins laughing and asks, "What are you watching?"
"Spongebob."
"Yes, I can see that it is Spongebob but what language is Spongebob speaking?"
Okay, that comment roused me enough that I could tell that Spongebob was speaking French. What happened? I know he was speaking English before I fell asleep.
G begins to giggle. "I changed the languages."
"Yes. We can see that you changed the languages. Spongebob is speaking French."
"I like watching it in different languages, giggle, giggle."
It took almost 10 minutes to get Spongebob to speak English again. Sweet G thought it was hilarious and was very proud of his accomplishment. I don't know how he did it but I sure wish that I could have seen it. I did learn a couple of things from this experience. 1) Never underestimate the abilities and curiosity of a child and 2) Spongebob still has his signature laugh even in French.
Hecklers
A couple of weeks ago while riding in the car we heard an advertisment for an upcoming comedy show at the DeSoto theater. Sweet G piped up from the backseat, "What day is that on and where did they say it was going to be? I am going to that show."
After getting home I looked up the information for the show on the internet. The ad promised a good clean family comedy show. "Okay," I said, "we will try to go."
Anyone who knows G knows he does not forget anything!! So, of course he remembered on the day of the show. We found that they were offering a two for one deal on tickets and invited a good friend to go along with us to the show.
I felt so sorry for the comedians because all of 50 people show up for the performance. It was quite awkward to be sitting there with so few people. We were some of the first people to arrive thinking that we'd beat the crowd and get good seats. That turned out to be a joke and even though we sat about 5 rows back we ended up being on the second row with people sitting in them and we had nobody in front of us.
I don't know about you but comedians make me nervous. I immediately felt uncomfortable and very exposed. There was no where to hide. No hopes of blending into the crowd. Add the fact that we have this cute little boy in a wheelchair that is laughing loudly, cheering and clapping and you see why I felt so uncomfortable.
The first comedian was really funny and almost immediately picked his victim from the crowd. A woman to our right and one row behind us made a comment to one of the comedian's jokes and he took off with it.
We made it through the first guy and I immediately gained a false sense of security. I was thinking, "Okay, this is not too bad." Notice I said false sense of security because that was exactly what it was.
The second comic started his routine. My Sweet G wasn't as impressed with this guy as he was the first and he was really beginning to feel empowered and bold. The comic told a joke about pot smokers and asked if there were any in the audience and guess who raised his hand? If you said Sweet G then you are a winner. Okay, so that was a little funny. The comedian later asks who brought liqueur into the theater with them. Once again that little hand goes up. Our attempt to blend in was over. We were fair game at that point and the comedian makes the comment that this family knows how to party.
G becomes bored with this guy and decides that he wants to join the show. The comic made a comment to someone that they could come up on stage and take over because of a comment they made. To G this meant, hello it is open mike night. He unlocks his wheels and tries to go onstage saying as he went, "Let me up there I can tell jokes better than you." I was mortified. Mortified and one seat away from the little devil. Unable to use the Mommy voice because of the emptiness of the theater and the distance I had put between me and my little spawn. He then gets upset with his dad because he is preventing him from storming the stage. A scene is about to be made. I am trying to figure out the best way out of the situation and it is not looking good. The guy did invite someone up to finish the show. G just thought he would be the perfect one for the job.
A heckler. Really. You know you have lots of dreams and aspirations for your children. A doctor, lawyer, non-homeless person. I just never imagined that I would be sitting in a comedy show with a heckler. Me, the person who would just love for my superpower to be the abilities of a cameolean. Blend into any and every situation. Never the center of attention. Seen and not heard. That is who I am. I am not the person that sits with the heckler or I wasn't until last Thursday night. But you can bet one thing. I will never, ever go to another comedy show in the company of G. And if I ever do become brave enough to go again I can promise you I will be there early so that I am sure to get the best seat in the house. You can find me in the seat on the corner of the very last row.
After getting home I looked up the information for the show on the internet. The ad promised a good clean family comedy show. "Okay," I said, "we will try to go."
Anyone who knows G knows he does not forget anything!! So, of course he remembered on the day of the show. We found that they were offering a two for one deal on tickets and invited a good friend to go along with us to the show.
I felt so sorry for the comedians because all of 50 people show up for the performance. It was quite awkward to be sitting there with so few people. We were some of the first people to arrive thinking that we'd beat the crowd and get good seats. That turned out to be a joke and even though we sat about 5 rows back we ended up being on the second row with people sitting in them and we had nobody in front of us.
I don't know about you but comedians make me nervous. I immediately felt uncomfortable and very exposed. There was no where to hide. No hopes of blending into the crowd. Add the fact that we have this cute little boy in a wheelchair that is laughing loudly, cheering and clapping and you see why I felt so uncomfortable.
The first comedian was really funny and almost immediately picked his victim from the crowd. A woman to our right and one row behind us made a comment to one of the comedian's jokes and he took off with it.
We made it through the first guy and I immediately gained a false sense of security. I was thinking, "Okay, this is not too bad." Notice I said false sense of security because that was exactly what it was.
The second comic started his routine. My Sweet G wasn't as impressed with this guy as he was the first and he was really beginning to feel empowered and bold. The comic told a joke about pot smokers and asked if there were any in the audience and guess who raised his hand? If you said Sweet G then you are a winner. Okay, so that was a little funny. The comedian later asks who brought liqueur into the theater with them. Once again that little hand goes up. Our attempt to blend in was over. We were fair game at that point and the comedian makes the comment that this family knows how to party.
G becomes bored with this guy and decides that he wants to join the show. The comic made a comment to someone that they could come up on stage and take over because of a comment they made. To G this meant, hello it is open mike night. He unlocks his wheels and tries to go onstage saying as he went, "Let me up there I can tell jokes better than you." I was mortified. Mortified and one seat away from the little devil. Unable to use the Mommy voice because of the emptiness of the theater and the distance I had put between me and my little spawn. He then gets upset with his dad because he is preventing him from storming the stage. A scene is about to be made. I am trying to figure out the best way out of the situation and it is not looking good. The guy did invite someone up to finish the show. G just thought he would be the perfect one for the job.
A heckler. Really. You know you have lots of dreams and aspirations for your children. A doctor, lawyer, non-homeless person. I just never imagined that I would be sitting in a comedy show with a heckler. Me, the person who would just love for my superpower to be the abilities of a cameolean. Blend into any and every situation. Never the center of attention. Seen and not heard. That is who I am. I am not the person that sits with the heckler or I wasn't until last Thursday night. But you can bet one thing. I will never, ever go to another comedy show in the company of G. And if I ever do become brave enough to go again I can promise you I will be there early so that I am sure to get the best seat in the house. You can find me in the seat on the corner of the very last row.
Hecklers
A couple of weeks ago while riding in the car we heard an advertisment for an upcoming comedy show at the DeSoto theater. Sweet G piped up from the backseat, "What day is that on and where did they say it was going to be? I am going to that show."
After getting home I looked up the information for the show on the internet. The ad promised a good clean family comedy show. "Okay," I said, "we will try to go."
Anyone who knows G knows he does not forget anything!! So, of course he remembered on the day of the show. We found that they were offering a two for one deal on tickets and invited a good friend to go along with us to the show.
I felt so sorry for the comedians because all of 50 people show up for the performance. It was quite awkward to be sitting there with so few people. We were some of the first people to arrive thinking that we'd beat the crowd and get good seats. That turned out to be a joke and even though we sat about 5 rows back we ended up being on the second row with people sitting in them and we had nobody in front of us.
I don't know about you but comedians make me nervous. I immediately felt uncomfortable and very exposed. There was no where to hide. No hopes of blending into the crowd. Add the fact that we have this cute little boy in a wheelchair that is laughing loudly, cheering and clapping and you see why I felt so uncomfortable.
The first comedian was really funny and almost immediately picked his victim from the crowd. A woman to our right and one row behind us made a comment to one of the comedian's jokes and he took off with it.
We made it through the first guy and I immediately gained a false sense of security. I was thinking, "Okay, this is not too bad." Notice I said false sense of security because that was exactly what it was.
The second comic started his routine. My Sweet G wasn't as impressed with this guy as he was the first and he was really beginning to feel empowered and bold. The comic told a joke about pot smokers and asked if there were any in the audience and guess who raised his hand? If you said Sweet G then you are a winner. Okay, so that was a little funny. The comedian later asks who brought liqueur into the theater with them. Once again that little hand goes up. Our attempt to blend in was over. We were fair game at that point and the comedian makes the comment that this family knows how to party.
G becomes bored with this guy and decides that he wants to join the show. The comic made a comment to someone that they could come up on stage and take over because of a comment they made. To G this meant, hello it is open mike night. He unlocks his wheels and tries to go onstage saying as he went, "Let me up there I can tell jokes better than you." I was mortified. Mortified and one seat away from the little devil. Unable to use the Mommy voice because of the emptiness of the theater and the distance I had put between me and my little spawn. He then gets upset with his dad because he is preventing him from storming the stage. A scene is about to be made. I am trying to figure out the best way out of the situation and it is not looking good. The guy did invite someone up to finish the show. G just thought he would be the perfect one for the job.
A heckler. Really. You know you have lots of dreams and aspirations for your children. A doctor, lawyer, non-homeless person. I just never imagined that I would be sitting in a comedy show with a heckler. Me, the person who would just love for my superpower to be the abilities of a cameolean. Blend into any and every situation. Never the center of attention. Seen and not heard. That is who I am. I am not the person that sits with the heckler or I wasn't until last Thursday night. But you can bet one thing. I will never, ever go to another comedy show in the company of G. And if I ever do become brave enough to go again I can promise you I will be there early so that I am sure to get the best seat in the house. You can find me in the seat on the corner of the very last row.
After getting home I looked up the information for the show on the internet. The ad promised a good clean family comedy show. "Okay," I said, "we will try to go."
Anyone who knows G knows he does not forget anything!! So, of course he remembered on the day of the show. We found that they were offering a two for one deal on tickets and invited a good friend to go along with us to the show.
I felt so sorry for the comedians because all of 50 people show up for the performance. It was quite awkward to be sitting there with so few people. We were some of the first people to arrive thinking that we'd beat the crowd and get good seats. That turned out to be a joke and even though we sat about 5 rows back we ended up being on the second row with people sitting in them and we had nobody in front of us.
I don't know about you but comedians make me nervous. I immediately felt uncomfortable and very exposed. There was no where to hide. No hopes of blending into the crowd. Add the fact that we have this cute little boy in a wheelchair that is laughing loudly, cheering and clapping and you see why I felt so uncomfortable.
The first comedian was really funny and almost immediately picked his victim from the crowd. A woman to our right and one row behind us made a comment to one of the comedian's jokes and he took off with it.
We made it through the first guy and I immediately gained a false sense of security. I was thinking, "Okay, this is not too bad." Notice I said false sense of security because that was exactly what it was.
The second comic started his routine. My Sweet G wasn't as impressed with this guy as he was the first and he was really beginning to feel empowered and bold. The comic told a joke about pot smokers and asked if there were any in the audience and guess who raised his hand? If you said Sweet G then you are a winner. Okay, so that was a little funny. The comedian later asks who brought liqueur into the theater with them. Once again that little hand goes up. Our attempt to blend in was over. We were fair game at that point and the comedian makes the comment that this family knows how to party.
G becomes bored with this guy and decides that he wants to join the show. The comic made a comment to someone that they could come up on stage and take over because of a comment they made. To G this meant, hello it is open mike night. He unlocks his wheels and tries to go onstage saying as he went, "Let me up there I can tell jokes better than you." I was mortified. Mortified and one seat away from the little devil. Unable to use the Mommy voice because of the emptiness of the theater and the distance I had put between me and my little spawn. He then gets upset with his dad because he is preventing him from storming the stage. A scene is about to be made. I am trying to figure out the best way out of the situation and it is not looking good. The guy did invite someone up to finish the show. G just thought he would be the perfect one for the job.
A heckler. Really. You know you have lots of dreams and aspirations for your children. A doctor, lawyer, non-homeless person. I just never imagined that I would be sitting in a comedy show with a heckler. Me, the person who would just love for my superpower to be the abilities of a cameolean. Blend into any and every situation. Never the center of attention. Seen and not heard. That is who I am. I am not the person that sits with the heckler or I wasn't until last Thursday night. But you can bet one thing. I will never, ever go to another comedy show in the company of G. And if I ever do become brave enough to go again I can promise you I will be there early so that I am sure to get the best seat in the house. You can find me in the seat on the corner of the very last row.
Thursday, October 14, 2010
Banana Milkshake Summer
I thought I would create a post to document all the things my boys are into at the present time. I have found that the things you think you will never forget sometimes end up being forgotten or at least I think they do. Anyway, my memory is not what it used to be so I need all the help I can get. I also blog as a way to document life for my boys in case they ever want to look back and see what life was like for their mom. So, here goes. . .
Sweet G has developed this ferocious appetite for banana milkshakes over the summer. He particularly likes the ones from Sonic but of course Sonic is on the other side of town--you know, the side we normally have no need to go to. He will settle for one from Mr. D's, a family owned restaurant in our neighborhood. I do agree that they come in a close second to Sonic and will do when Daddy doesn't want to drive 8 and 1/2 miles to get a milkshake. He also has developed a hunger for french fries. He likes them all. He likes Checker's fries but says they are salty. He likes crinkle cut fries sometimes and of course he loves McDonald's fries. He is growing so fast and has gained some weight from all the junk food. He weighs about 47 lbs. now. He is currently watching reruns of Sanford and Son, The Cosby Show, Fresh Prince of Bel Air, My Wife and Kids, and George Lopez. I have only recently realized that all his favorite shows have few if any white characters in them. I find this interesting and it has me intrigued.
I am not sure what T is into at the present time. He just started college in August and is busy writing lots of things, studying and working. He comes home with a new funny story every weekend. He is still the pickiest eater I know and grows more like me every day that passes (although he would disagree).
Sweet G has developed this ferocious appetite for banana milkshakes over the summer. He particularly likes the ones from Sonic but of course Sonic is on the other side of town--you know, the side we normally have no need to go to. He will settle for one from Mr. D's, a family owned restaurant in our neighborhood. I do agree that they come in a close second to Sonic and will do when Daddy doesn't want to drive 8 and 1/2 miles to get a milkshake. He also has developed a hunger for french fries. He likes them all. He likes Checker's fries but says they are salty. He likes crinkle cut fries sometimes and of course he loves McDonald's fries. He is growing so fast and has gained some weight from all the junk food. He weighs about 47 lbs. now. He is currently watching reruns of Sanford and Son, The Cosby Show, Fresh Prince of Bel Air, My Wife and Kids, and George Lopez. I have only recently realized that all his favorite shows have few if any white characters in them. I find this interesting and it has me intrigued.
I am not sure what T is into at the present time. He just started college in August and is busy writing lots of things, studying and working. He comes home with a new funny story every weekend. He is still the pickiest eater I know and grows more like me every day that passes (although he would disagree).
Exposed
My husband had a conference to attend in Savannah earlier this week and G and I went along for the trip. After riding in the car for 5+ hours we were told we would have to wait an hour and a half for our room to be ready. So, since we were on Bay Street we decided to walk to River Street to pass the time. Those of you who have never visited Georgia's loveliest city won't know that River Street is paved with cobblestones. They aren't even true cobblestones. They are paved from the stones that ships used as ballast on the trip across the Atlantic. Big change from today. Back then we were the exporters (cotton) but now all the ships are empty when they leave and you can tell cause they sit higher in the water on the way out than on the way in. So, anyway back to the story. Being paved with cobblestones makes Savannah a non-handicapped friendly place to go. Poor G was banged and battered around in his seat the entire time we were there. Thank goodness he has such a sweet spirit and doesn't complain.
After walking around on River Street (they have added tabby sidewalks and some brick sidewalks that still aren't optimal for wheelchairs) we were ready to get into our room. I guess I should say that G and I were ready to get into the room. After getting our room keys we headed upstairs so that G and I could get settled while J went to get our bags. We immediately turn down the covers and climb into the beds. G in one and me in the other. Since I wore jeans and didn't have my jammies yet I just took my jeans off and lay them across the foot of the bed before getting under the covers.
Have you ever had the feeling that someone is watching you or that you are somehow exposed? Well, I look up and realize that I can see into the hallway. When my precious husband left the room to go 6 floors down to get our bags he left the door to our room wide open. Here I am looking down the hall and around the corner thinking okay now what do I do. I think and probably said aloud, "surely he didn't just leave the door open and leave knowing that I am half dressed in the bed which is plainly visible from the hallway." I call his name. No answer. I begin to look around for a way out of this situation. I spot my jeans casually thrown across the end of my bed. To get them I have to raise up and become totally visible from the hallway. I listen and hear nothing. The coast is clear. I stretch forward, snatch my jeans, jump out of bed and out of view of the hallway to put them on which required me to touch the hotel room floor with my bare feet which I DO NOT do!!!! I then stomp across the room and close the door.
That man, if I didn't love him it sure would be hard to live with him. Well, I do love him and it is still hard to live with him sometimes! But if you ask him I am sure he will tell you that I give as good as I get!! ; )
After walking around on River Street (they have added tabby sidewalks and some brick sidewalks that still aren't optimal for wheelchairs) we were ready to get into our room. I guess I should say that G and I were ready to get into the room. After getting our room keys we headed upstairs so that G and I could get settled while J went to get our bags. We immediately turn down the covers and climb into the beds. G in one and me in the other. Since I wore jeans and didn't have my jammies yet I just took my jeans off and lay them across the foot of the bed before getting under the covers.
Have you ever had the feeling that someone is watching you or that you are somehow exposed? Well, I look up and realize that I can see into the hallway. When my precious husband left the room to go 6 floors down to get our bags he left the door to our room wide open. Here I am looking down the hall and around the corner thinking okay now what do I do. I think and probably said aloud, "surely he didn't just leave the door open and leave knowing that I am half dressed in the bed which is plainly visible from the hallway." I call his name. No answer. I begin to look around for a way out of this situation. I spot my jeans casually thrown across the end of my bed. To get them I have to raise up and become totally visible from the hallway. I listen and hear nothing. The coast is clear. I stretch forward, snatch my jeans, jump out of bed and out of view of the hallway to put them on which required me to touch the hotel room floor with my bare feet which I DO NOT do!!!! I then stomp across the room and close the door.
That man, if I didn't love him it sure would be hard to live with him. Well, I do love him and it is still hard to live with him sometimes! But if you ask him I am sure he will tell you that I give as good as I get!! ; )
Exposed
My husband had a conference to attend in Savannah earlier this week and G and I went along for the trip. After riding in the car for 5+ hours we were told we would have to wait an hour and a half for our room to be ready. So, since we were on Bay Street we decided to walk to River Street to pass the time. Those of you who have never visited Georgia's loveliest city won't know that River Street is paved with cobblestones. They aren't even true cobblestones. They are paved from the stones that ships used as ballast on the trip across the Atlantic. Big change from today. Back then we were the exporters (cotton) but now all the ships are empty when they leave and you can tell cause they sit higher in the water on the way out than on the way in. So, anyway back to the story. Being paved with cobblestones makes Savannah a non-handicapped friendly place to go. Poor G was banged and battered around in his seat the entire time we were there. Thank goodness he has such a sweet spirit and doesn't complain.
After walking around on River Street (they have added tabby sidewalks and some brick sidewalks that still aren't optimal for wheelchairs) we were ready to get into our room. I guess I should say that G and I were ready to get into the room. After getting our room keys we headed upstairs so that G and I could get settled while J went to get our bags. We immediately turn down the covers and climb into the beds. G in one and me in the other. Since I wore jeans and didn't have my jammies yet I just took my jeans off and lay them across the foot of the bed before getting under the covers.
Have you ever had the feeling that someone is watching you or that you are somehow exposed? Well, I look up and realize that I can see into the hallway. When my precious husband left the room to go 6 floors down to get our bags he left the door to our room wide open. Here I am looking down the hall and around the corner thinking okay now what do I do. I think and probably said aloud, "surely he didn't just leave the door open and leave knowing that I am half dressed in the bed which is plainly visible from the hallway." I call his name. No answer. I begin to look around for a way out of this situation. I spot my jeans casually thrown across the end of my bed. To get them I have to raise up and become totally visible from the hallway. I listen and hear nothing. The coast is clear. I stretch forward, snatch my jeans, jump out of bed and out of view of the hallway to put them on which required me to touch the hotel room floor with my bare feet which I DO NOT do!!!! I then stomp across the room and close the door.
That man, if I didn't love him it sure would be hard to live with him. Well, I do love him and it is still hard to live with him sometimes! But if you ask him I am sure he will tell you that I give as good as I get!! ; )
After walking around on River Street (they have added tabby sidewalks and some brick sidewalks that still aren't optimal for wheelchairs) we were ready to get into our room. I guess I should say that G and I were ready to get into the room. After getting our room keys we headed upstairs so that G and I could get settled while J went to get our bags. We immediately turn down the covers and climb into the beds. G in one and me in the other. Since I wore jeans and didn't have my jammies yet I just took my jeans off and lay them across the foot of the bed before getting under the covers.
Have you ever had the feeling that someone is watching you or that you are somehow exposed? Well, I look up and realize that I can see into the hallway. When my precious husband left the room to go 6 floors down to get our bags he left the door to our room wide open. Here I am looking down the hall and around the corner thinking okay now what do I do. I think and probably said aloud, "surely he didn't just leave the door open and leave knowing that I am half dressed in the bed which is plainly visible from the hallway." I call his name. No answer. I begin to look around for a way out of this situation. I spot my jeans casually thrown across the end of my bed. To get them I have to raise up and become totally visible from the hallway. I listen and hear nothing. The coast is clear. I stretch forward, snatch my jeans, jump out of bed and out of view of the hallway to put them on which required me to touch the hotel room floor with my bare feet which I DO NOT do!!!! I then stomp across the room and close the door.
That man, if I didn't love him it sure would be hard to live with him. Well, I do love him and it is still hard to live with him sometimes! But if you ask him I am sure he will tell you that I give as good as I get!! ; )
Friday, October 8, 2010
Words
I am troubled over some of the comments I read on facebook and things that I hear people say to one another lately. Sometimes these comments come from the most unlikely people, people you thought were above using words as a way to hurt others. Young people today use foul and abusive language toward each other and call it humor. “It’s just the way we talk to each other. They know we are only kidding. You just take everything too serious.” I am sorry but I disagree. The old saying sticks and stones will break your bones but words will never hurt me is so far from the truth. In actuality bones and bruises heal rather quickly in comparison to the wounds that words leave on a person.
I don’t expect a perfect world where everyone gets along totally and nobody ever says a hurtful thing to another. That is not possible. We are after all humans. I also think that sometimes things left on facebook or send via text or email can easily be misinterpreted by others. I know that because it has happened to me many times. The written word doesn’t allow us to see the expression of the person giving the message or provide us an opportunity to hear the tone and inflections in their voice the way face to face conversation does.
In the article Pronunciation: Changing Meaning through Word Stress written for About.com by Kenneth Beare, he gives this example of how the meaning of a sentence is changed simply because a different word is stressed when speaking. Here is his example:
1. I said she might consider a new haircut. (It was my idea.)
2. I said she might consider a new haircut. (Don't you understand me?)
3. I said she might consider a new haircut. (Not another person.)
4. I said she might consider a new haircut. (It's a possibility.)
5. I said she might consider a new haircut. (She should think about it. it's a good idea.)
6. I said she might consider a new haircut. (Not just a haircut.)
7. I said she might consider a new haircut. (Not something else.)
Do you see what I mean? When you take the face to face contact out of the equation leaving only text to convey our thoughts a lot of meaning may be missed or misinterpreted by the reader. Add to the equation the fact that most people who text or use facebook use abbreviations for everything possible and you increase the chance of misunderstanding even more. I do think that this is part of the problem but only a small part.
I really think that we live under a double standard. The way we expect to be treated and talked to is totally different from the way that we choose to talk to and treat others. “Oh, get over it. I was only joking. Can’t you take a joke?” But let’s put the shoe on your foot and let you see how comfortable it is to be called out on facebook. If you ask them they will say that it doesn’t matter but do you really think it’s true? Do you really think their self esteem is so high that being called vulgar names doesn’t affect them in any way? I am sorry but I just don’t buy it. I have seen firsthand the pain that these careless words cause and I believe that many others are hurt but are just able to hide it a little better than others. No one can judge the pain of another by simply looking at them. You never know the secret wounds that others may carry.
I look around me and see a lot of wounded and hurting people. I see those same people lashing out at others feeling that they are justified because of something that was done to them. Still others do it at an attempt to fit in-for acceptance and popularity. They are blind to the possible destruction they are causing with their words.
Words carry a lot of power. Martin Luther King used words to convince others to stand up and fight for civil rights. Adolf Hitler used words to convince others that it was necessary to eliminate an entire race of people. Our words do have power. They have the power of life and death, the ability to build up or tear down, the capacity to bless or to curse. We don’t get to choose whether or not we impact the lives of others we cross paths with. Often we are unaware of the impression we make on others. But we can control whether that influence is negative or positive, a curse or a blessing. So before you speak harshly about another or judge them and dismiss their feelings as irrational think about the power your words and your actions carry with them. I know that I will.
I don’t expect a perfect world where everyone gets along totally and nobody ever says a hurtful thing to another. That is not possible. We are after all humans. I also think that sometimes things left on facebook or send via text or email can easily be misinterpreted by others. I know that because it has happened to me many times. The written word doesn’t allow us to see the expression of the person giving the message or provide us an opportunity to hear the tone and inflections in their voice the way face to face conversation does.
In the article Pronunciation: Changing Meaning through Word Stress written for About.com by Kenneth Beare, he gives this example of how the meaning of a sentence is changed simply because a different word is stressed when speaking. Here is his example:
1. I said she might consider a new haircut. (It was my idea.)
2. I said she might consider a new haircut. (Don't you understand me?)
3. I said she might consider a new haircut. (Not another person.)
4. I said she might consider a new haircut. (It's a possibility.)
5. I said she might consider a new haircut. (She should think about it. it's a good idea.)
6. I said she might consider a new haircut. (Not just a haircut.)
7. I said she might consider a new haircut. (Not something else.)
Do you see what I mean? When you take the face to face contact out of the equation leaving only text to convey our thoughts a lot of meaning may be missed or misinterpreted by the reader. Add to the equation the fact that most people who text or use facebook use abbreviations for everything possible and you increase the chance of misunderstanding even more. I do think that this is part of the problem but only a small part.
I really think that we live under a double standard. The way we expect to be treated and talked to is totally different from the way that we choose to talk to and treat others. “Oh, get over it. I was only joking. Can’t you take a joke?” But let’s put the shoe on your foot and let you see how comfortable it is to be called out on facebook. If you ask them they will say that it doesn’t matter but do you really think it’s true? Do you really think their self esteem is so high that being called vulgar names doesn’t affect them in any way? I am sorry but I just don’t buy it. I have seen firsthand the pain that these careless words cause and I believe that many others are hurt but are just able to hide it a little better than others. No one can judge the pain of another by simply looking at them. You never know the secret wounds that others may carry.
I look around me and see a lot of wounded and hurting people. I see those same people lashing out at others feeling that they are justified because of something that was done to them. Still others do it at an attempt to fit in-for acceptance and popularity. They are blind to the possible destruction they are causing with their words.
Words carry a lot of power. Martin Luther King used words to convince others to stand up and fight for civil rights. Adolf Hitler used words to convince others that it was necessary to eliminate an entire race of people. Our words do have power. They have the power of life and death, the ability to build up or tear down, the capacity to bless or to curse. We don’t get to choose whether or not we impact the lives of others we cross paths with. Often we are unaware of the impression we make on others. But we can control whether that influence is negative or positive, a curse or a blessing. So before you speak harshly about another or judge them and dismiss their feelings as irrational think about the power your words and your actions carry with them. I know that I will.
21 Words kill, words give life; they're either poison or fruit—you choose.~Proverbs 18:21 (The Message)
34-37"You have minds like a snake pit! How do you suppose what you say is worth anything when you are so foul-minded? It's your heart, not the dictionary, that gives meaning to your words. A good person produces good deeds and words season after season. An evil person is a blight on the orchard. Let me tell you something: Every one of these careless words is going to come back to haunt you. There will be a time of Reckoning. Words are powerful; take them seriously. Words can be your salvation. Words can also be your damnation." Matthew 12:37 (The Message)
Thursday, October 7, 2010
Homesick
This summer brought lots of changes in our family. I (finally) graduated from college, Trey graduated from high school and moved away to college, we practically destroyed our home and are just now getting it back in some semblance of order, and we took Sweet G out of public school to homeschool him. I am still trying to catch my breath and wrap my head around all the changes that have taken place. You see, I do not like change. In fact, in the words of my papaw, "I dispise change." It doesn't matter if it is a good change or a bad change; I just don't handle change well. I get depressed, have bouts of panic and just do not feel like myself. I thrive on consistency. I like to have a normal, day to day schedule and know what is coming next. I don't like it when Joey works a lot, but once I get used to it I panic when he doesn't.
I want things to be like they were when I was growing up in the 70s. Things were so simple then. We had a routine that was very rarely broken. Things were very much the same from day to day when I was home during the week and on Saturday at 12:00 my dad would drive up to take me to his house for the weekend. There was definitely a routine at his house since he lived with his parents. The same old same old week after week.
One thing I did not like about growing up was that my parents were divorced. I absolutely hated the fact that I was always away from one of my parents. I was never with them both and if I ever was for some rare occasion like a school function I was miserable. Joey and I were talking last week after we heard Brad Paisley's song "If He's Anything Like Me." I was wondering if T ever gets homesick. I doubt it but it got us talking about being homesick. I asked Joey if he was ever homesick when he was in college and of course he said, "No." I then asked, "have you ever been homesick?" He thought about it for a minute and finally said that he gets homesick now when he has to go away for training. (Smart man.) But as I began to explain to Joey about my experience with being homesick I realized that I spent my entire childhood homesick. When I was at home with my mom, stepdad, and siblings I missed my dad and grandparents. When I was at my dad's house I longed to be at home with my mom. I had two homes and in reality they were each just half of a whole home that had been split. One was never enough. I was always slightly haunted by the one or the other.
So, if you are divorced and are reading this think about how your divorce may be affecting your children. Maybe I am the exception to the rule. Maybe most children of divorce don't experience the same feelings that I did. Hopefully that is the case.
I want things to be like they were when I was growing up in the 70s. Things were so simple then. We had a routine that was very rarely broken. Things were very much the same from day to day when I was home during the week and on Saturday at 12:00 my dad would drive up to take me to his house for the weekend. There was definitely a routine at his house since he lived with his parents. The same old same old week after week.
One thing I did not like about growing up was that my parents were divorced. I absolutely hated the fact that I was always away from one of my parents. I was never with them both and if I ever was for some rare occasion like a school function I was miserable. Joey and I were talking last week after we heard Brad Paisley's song "If He's Anything Like Me." I was wondering if T ever gets homesick. I doubt it but it got us talking about being homesick. I asked Joey if he was ever homesick when he was in college and of course he said, "No." I then asked, "have you ever been homesick?" He thought about it for a minute and finally said that he gets homesick now when he has to go away for training. (Smart man.) But as I began to explain to Joey about my experience with being homesick I realized that I spent my entire childhood homesick. When I was at home with my mom, stepdad, and siblings I missed my dad and grandparents. When I was at my dad's house I longed to be at home with my mom. I had two homes and in reality they were each just half of a whole home that had been split. One was never enough. I was always slightly haunted by the one or the other.
So, if you are divorced and are reading this think about how your divorce may be affecting your children. Maybe I am the exception to the rule. Maybe most children of divorce don't experience the same feelings that I did. Hopefully that is the case.
Homesick
This summer brought lots of changes in our family. I (finally) graduated from college, Trey graduated from high school and moved away to college, we practically destroyed our home and are just now getting it back in some semblance of order, and we took Sweet G out of public school to homeschool him. I am still trying to catch my breath and wrap my head around all the changes that have taken place. You see, I do not like change. In fact, in the words of my papaw, "I dispise change." It doesn't matter if it is a good change or a bad change; I just don't handle change well. I get depressed, have bouts of panic and just do not feel like myself. I thrive on consistency. I like to have a normal, day to day schedule and know what is coming next. I don't like it when Joey works a lot, but once I get used to it I panic when he doesn't.
I want things to be like they were when I was growing up in the 70s. Things were so simple then. We had a routine that was very rarely broken. Things were very much the same from day to day when I was home during the week and on Saturday at 12:00 my dad would drive up to take me to his house for the weekend. There was definitely a routine at his house since he lived with his parents. The same old same old week after week.
One thing I did not like about growing up was that my parents were divorced. I absolutely hated the fact that I was always away from one of my parents. I was never with them both and if I ever was for some rare occasion like a school function I was miserable. Joey and I were talking last week after we heard Brad Paisley's song "If He's Anything Like Me." I was wondering if T ever gets homesick. I doubt it but it got us talking about being homesick. I asked Joey if he was ever homesick when he was in college and of course he said, "No." I then asked, "have you ever been homesick?" He thought about it for a minute and finally said that he gets homesick now when he has to go away for training. (Smart man.) But as I began to explain to Joey about my experience with being homesick I realized that I spent my entire childhood homesick. When I was at home with my mom, stepdad, and siblings I missed my dad and grandparents. When I was at my dad's house I longed to be at home with my mom. I had two homes and in reality they were each just half of a whole home that had been split. One was never enough. I was always slightly haunted by the one or the other.
So, if you are divorced and are reading this think about how your divorce may be affecting your children. Maybe I am the exception to the rule. Maybe most children of divorce don't experience the same feelings that I did. Hopefully that is the case.
I want things to be like they were when I was growing up in the 70s. Things were so simple then. We had a routine that was very rarely broken. Things were very much the same from day to day when I was home during the week and on Saturday at 12:00 my dad would drive up to take me to his house for the weekend. There was definitely a routine at his house since he lived with his parents. The same old same old week after week.
One thing I did not like about growing up was that my parents were divorced. I absolutely hated the fact that I was always away from one of my parents. I was never with them both and if I ever was for some rare occasion like a school function I was miserable. Joey and I were talking last week after we heard Brad Paisley's song "If He's Anything Like Me." I was wondering if T ever gets homesick. I doubt it but it got us talking about being homesick. I asked Joey if he was ever homesick when he was in college and of course he said, "No." I then asked, "have you ever been homesick?" He thought about it for a minute and finally said that he gets homesick now when he has to go away for training. (Smart man.) But as I began to explain to Joey about my experience with being homesick I realized that I spent my entire childhood homesick. When I was at home with my mom, stepdad, and siblings I missed my dad and grandparents. When I was at my dad's house I longed to be at home with my mom. I had two homes and in reality they were each just half of a whole home that had been split. One was never enough. I was always slightly haunted by the one or the other.
So, if you are divorced and are reading this think about how your divorce may be affecting your children. Maybe I am the exception to the rule. Maybe most children of divorce don't experience the same feelings that I did. Hopefully that is the case.
Tuesday, October 5, 2010
Monday All Day Long
Why is it that Mondays usually end up being the hardest day of the week? My Monday began at 3:00 a.m. I was awakened by the sound of G's screams coming from the monitor. I jumped out of bed and sprinted through the house like a mad woman thinking that the worst thing possible was taking place in my son's room. I opened the door to discover him lying in the floor where he had fallen out of the bed. I picked him up and climbed into his bed. I sent my poor husband to retrieve my pillows from our bedroom as I snuggled into bed between a monkey, a stuffed jalapeno and a snotty nosed little boy. I stayed there the rest of the night.
During school today I made Sweet G laugh so hard he peed his pants all because I was looking for a video on Teacher Tube. For some reason the name Teacher Tube struck him as hilarious!! I love to hear his giggles fill the air but don't feel quite the same way about the loss of bladder function that come with them sometimes.
I did not eat anything until almost 4:00. I just got busy and forgot to eat which I really should do more often. And to finish my day off I spilled almost an entire Route 44 Dr. Pepper all over my shoes and into my husband's man purse (work bag). Seriously, I had to ride all the way across town with one of my feet covered in cold and sticky Dr. Pepper. That was not a fun experience. Who needs 44 ounces of Dr. Pepper anyway? I must be crazy! I wonder how many calories is in 44 ounces of Dr. Pepper. I just looked it up and just for future reference it has 550 calories in it. Maybe it isn't such a bad thing that it ended up soaked into the carpet of Joey's truck instead of stuck around my waistline. . . hummmm something to think about.
During school today I made Sweet G laugh so hard he peed his pants all because I was looking for a video on Teacher Tube. For some reason the name Teacher Tube struck him as hilarious!! I love to hear his giggles fill the air but don't feel quite the same way about the loss of bladder function that come with them sometimes.
I did not eat anything until almost 4:00. I just got busy and forgot to eat which I really should do more often. And to finish my day off I spilled almost an entire Route 44 Dr. Pepper all over my shoes and into my husband's man purse (work bag). Seriously, I had to ride all the way across town with one of my feet covered in cold and sticky Dr. Pepper. That was not a fun experience. Who needs 44 ounces of Dr. Pepper anyway? I must be crazy! I wonder how many calories is in 44 ounces of Dr. Pepper. I just looked it up and just for future reference it has 550 calories in it. Maybe it isn't such a bad thing that it ended up soaked into the carpet of Joey's truck instead of stuck around my waistline. . . hummmm something to think about.
Monday All Day Long
Why is it that Mondays usually end up being the hardest day of the week? My Monday began at 3:00 a.m. I was awakened by the sound of G's screams coming from the monitor. I jumped out of bed and sprinted through the house like a mad woman thinking that the worst thing possible was taking place in my son's room. I opened the door to discover him lying in the floor where he had fallen out of the bed. I picked him up and climbed into his bed. I sent my poor husband to retrieve my pillows from our bedroom as I snuggled into bed between a monkey, a stuffed jalapeno and a snotty nosed little boy. I stayed there the rest of the night.
During school today I made Sweet G laugh so hard he peed his pants all because I was looking for a video on Teacher Tube. For some reason the name Teacher Tube struck him as hilarious!! I love to hear his giggles fill the air but don't feel quite the same way about the loss of bladder function that come with them sometimes.
I did not eat anything until almost 4:00. I just got busy and forgot to eat which I really should do more often. And to finish my day off I spilled almost an entire Route 44 Dr. Pepper all over my shoes and into my husband's man purse (work bag). Seriously, I had to ride all the way across town with one of my feet covered in cold and sticky Dr. Pepper. That was not a fun experience. Who needs 44 ounces of Dr. Pepper anyway? I must be crazy! I wonder how many calories is in 44 ounces of Dr. Pepper. I just looked it up and just for future reference it has 550 calories in it. Maybe it isn't such a bad thing that it ended up soaked into the carpet of Joey's truck instead of stuck around my waistline. . . hummmm something to think about.
During school today I made Sweet G laugh so hard he peed his pants all because I was looking for a video on Teacher Tube. For some reason the name Teacher Tube struck him as hilarious!! I love to hear his giggles fill the air but don't feel quite the same way about the loss of bladder function that come with them sometimes.
I did not eat anything until almost 4:00. I just got busy and forgot to eat which I really should do more often. And to finish my day off I spilled almost an entire Route 44 Dr. Pepper all over my shoes and into my husband's man purse (work bag). Seriously, I had to ride all the way across town with one of my feet covered in cold and sticky Dr. Pepper. That was not a fun experience. Who needs 44 ounces of Dr. Pepper anyway? I must be crazy! I wonder how many calories is in 44 ounces of Dr. Pepper. I just looked it up and just for future reference it has 550 calories in it. Maybe it isn't such a bad thing that it ended up soaked into the carpet of Joey's truck instead of stuck around my waistline. . . hummmm something to think about.
Saturday, October 2, 2010
Trying Something New
I have decided to give Wordpress a try in an attempt to simplify my blog and make it easier for readers to find previous posts. I am not sure how this is going to work out but I thought it was worth the try.
Friday, October 1, 2010
Words
I am troubled over some of the comments I read on facebook and things that I hear people say to one another lately. Sometimes these comments come from the most unlikely people, people you thought were above using words as a way to hurt others. Young people today use foul and abusive language toward each other and call it humor. “It’s just the way we talk to each other. They know we are only kidding. You just take everything too serious.” I am sorry but I disagree. The old saying sticks and stones will break your bones but words will never hurt me is so far from the truth. In actuality bones and bruises heal rather quickly in comparison to the wounds that words leave on a person.
I don’t expect a perfect world where everyone gets along totally and nobody ever says a hurtful thing to another. That is not possible. We are after all humans. I also think that sometimes things left on facebook or send via text or email can easily be misinterpreted by others. I know that because it has happened to me many times. The written word doesn’t allow us to see the expression of the person giving the message or provide us an opportunity to hear the tone and inflections in their voice the way face to face conversation does.
In the article Pronunciation: Changing Meaning through Word Stress written for About.com by Kenneth Beare, he gives this example of how the meaning of a sentence is changed simply because a different word is stressed when speaking. Here is his example:
1. I said she might consider a new haircut. (It was my idea.)
2. I said she might consider a new haircut. (Don't you understand me?)
3. I said she might consider a new haircut. (Not another person.)
4. I said she might consider a new haircut. (It's a possibility.)
5. I said she might consider a new haircut. (She should think about it. it's a good idea.)
6. I said she might consider a new haircut. (Not just a haircut.)
7. I said she might consider a new haircut. (Not something else.)
Do you see what I mean? When you take the face to face contact out of the equation leaving only text to convey our thoughts a lot of meaning may be missed or misinterpreted by the reader. Add to the equation the fact that most people who text or use facebook use abbreviations for everything possible and you increase the chance of misunderstanding even more. I do think that this is part of the problem but only a small part.
I really think that we live under a double standard. The way we expect to be treated and talked to is totally different from the way that we choose to talk to and treat others. “Oh, get over it. I was only joking. Can’t you take a joke?” But let’s put the shoe on your foot and let you see how comfortable it is to be called out on facebook. If you ask them they will say that it doesn’t matter but do you really think it’s true? Do you really think their self esteem is so high that being called vulgar names doesn’t affect them in any way? I am sorry but I just don’t buy it. I have seen firsthand the pain that these careless words cause and I believe that many others are hurt but are just able to hide it a little better than others. No one can judge the pain of another by simply looking at them. You never know the secret wounds that others may carry.
I look around me and see a lot of wounded and hurting people. I see those same people lashing out at others feeling that they are justified because of something that was done to them. Still others do it at an attempt to fit in-for acceptance and popularity. They are blind to the possible destruction they are causing with their words.
Words carry a lot of power. Martin Luther King used words to convince others to stand up and fight for civil rights. Adolf Hitler used words to convince others that it was necessary to eliminate an entire race of people. Our words do have power. They have the power of life and death, the ability to build up or tear down, the capacity to bless or to curse. We don’t get to choose whether or not we impact the lives of others we cross paths with. Often we are unaware of the impression we make on others. But we can control whether that influence is negative or positive, a curse or a blessing. So before you speak harshly about another or judge them and dismiss their feelings as irrational think about the power your words and your actions carry with them. I know that I will.
I don’t expect a perfect world where everyone gets along totally and nobody ever says a hurtful thing to another. That is not possible. We are after all humans. I also think that sometimes things left on facebook or send via text or email can easily be misinterpreted by others. I know that because it has happened to me many times. The written word doesn’t allow us to see the expression of the person giving the message or provide us an opportunity to hear the tone and inflections in their voice the way face to face conversation does.
In the article Pronunciation: Changing Meaning through Word Stress written for About.com by Kenneth Beare, he gives this example of how the meaning of a sentence is changed simply because a different word is stressed when speaking. Here is his example:
1. I said she might consider a new haircut. (It was my idea.)
2. I said she might consider a new haircut. (Don't you understand me?)
3. I said she might consider a new haircut. (Not another person.)
4. I said she might consider a new haircut. (It's a possibility.)
5. I said she might consider a new haircut. (She should think about it. it's a good idea.)
6. I said she might consider a new haircut. (Not just a haircut.)
7. I said she might consider a new haircut. (Not something else.)
Do you see what I mean? When you take the face to face contact out of the equation leaving only text to convey our thoughts a lot of meaning may be missed or misinterpreted by the reader. Add to the equation the fact that most people who text or use facebook use abbreviations for everything possible and you increase the chance of misunderstanding even more. I do think that this is part of the problem but only a small part.
I really think that we live under a double standard. The way we expect to be treated and talked to is totally different from the way that we choose to talk to and treat others. “Oh, get over it. I was only joking. Can’t you take a joke?” But let’s put the shoe on your foot and let you see how comfortable it is to be called out on facebook. If you ask them they will say that it doesn’t matter but do you really think it’s true? Do you really think their self esteem is so high that being called vulgar names doesn’t affect them in any way? I am sorry but I just don’t buy it. I have seen firsthand the pain that these careless words cause and I believe that many others are hurt but are just able to hide it a little better than others. No one can judge the pain of another by simply looking at them. You never know the secret wounds that others may carry.
I look around me and see a lot of wounded and hurting people. I see those same people lashing out at others feeling that they are justified because of something that was done to them. Still others do it at an attempt to fit in-for acceptance and popularity. They are blind to the possible destruction they are causing with their words.
Words carry a lot of power. Martin Luther King used words to convince others to stand up and fight for civil rights. Adolf Hitler used words to convince others that it was necessary to eliminate an entire race of people. Our words do have power. They have the power of life and death, the ability to build up or tear down, the capacity to bless or to curse. We don’t get to choose whether or not we impact the lives of others we cross paths with. Often we are unaware of the impression we make on others. But we can control whether that influence is negative or positive, a curse or a blessing. So before you speak harshly about another or judge them and dismiss their feelings as irrational think about the power your words and your actions carry with them. I know that I will.
21 Words kill, words give life; they're either poison or fruit—you choose.~Proverbs 18:21 (The Message)
34-37"You have minds like a snake pit! How do you suppose what you say is worth anything when you are so foul-minded? It's your heart, not the dictionary, that gives meaning to your words. A good person produces good deeds and words season after season. An evil person is a blight on the orchard. Let me tell you something: Every one of these careless words is going to come back to haunt you. There will be a time of Reckoning. Words are powerful; take them seriously. Words can be your salvation. Words can also be your damnation." Matthew 12:37 (The Message)
Words
I am troubled over some of the comments I read on facebook and things that I hear people say to one another lately. Sometimes these comments come from the most unlikely people, people you thought were above using words as a way to hurt others. Young people today use foul and abusive language toward each other and call it humor. “It’s just the way we talk to each other. They know we are only kidding. You just take everything too serious.” I am sorry but I disagree. The old saying sticks and stones will break your bones but words will never hurt me is so far from the truth. In actuality bones and bruises heal rather quickly in comparison to the wounds that words leave on a person.
I don’t expect a perfect world where everyone gets along totally and nobody ever says a hurtful thing to another. That is not possible. We are after all humans. I also think that sometimes things left on facebook or send via text or email can easily be misinterpreted by others. I know that because it has happened to me many times. The written word doesn’t allow us to see the expression of the person giving the message or provide us an opportunity to hear the tone and inflections in their voice the way face to face conversation does.
In the article Pronunciation: Changing Meaning through Word Stress written for About.com by Kenneth Beare, he gives this example of how the meaning of a sentence is changed simply because a different word is stressed when speaking. Here is his example:
1. I said she might consider a new haircut. (It was my idea.)
2. I said she might consider a new haircut. (Don't you understand me?)
3. I said she might consider a new haircut. (Not another person.)
4. I said she might consider a new haircut. (It's a possibility.)
5. I said she might consider a new haircut. (She should think about it. it's a good idea.)
6. I said she might consider a new haircut. (Not just a haircut.)
7. I said she might consider a new haircut. (Not something else.)
Do you see what I mean? When you take the face to face contact out of the equation leaving only text to convey our thoughts a lot of meaning may be missed or misinterpreted by the reader. Add to the equation the fact that most people who text or use facebook use abbreviations for everything possible and you increase the chance of misunderstanding even more. I do think that this is part of the problem but only a small part.
I really think that we live under a double standard. The way we expect to be treated and talked to is totally different from the way that we choose to talk to and treat others. “Oh, get over it. I was only joking. Can’t you take a joke?” But let’s put the shoe on your foot and let you see how comfortable it is to be called out on facebook. If you ask them they will say that it doesn’t matter but do you really think it’s true? Do you really think their self esteem is so high that being called vulgar names doesn’t affect them in any way? I am sorry but I just don’t buy it. I have seen firsthand the pain that these careless words cause and I believe that many others are hurt but are just able to hide it a little better than others. No one can judge the pain of another by simply looking at them. You never know the secret wounds that others may carry.
I look around me and see a lot of wounded and hurting people. I see those same people lashing out at others feeling that they are justified because of something that was done to them. Still others do it at an attempt to fit in-for acceptance and popularity. They are blind to the possible destruction they are causing with their words.
Words carry a lot of power. Martin Luther King used words to convince others to stand up and fight for civil rights. Adolf Hitler used words to convince others that it was necessary to eliminate an entire race of people. Our words do have power. They have the power of life and death, the ability to build up or tear down, the capacity to bless or to curse. We don’t get to choose whether or not we impact the lives of others we cross paths with. Often we are unaware of the impression we make on others. But we can control whether that influence is negative or positive, a curse or a blessing. So before you speak harshly about another or judge them and dismiss their feelings as irrational think about the power your words and your actions carry with them. I know that I will.
I don’t expect a perfect world where everyone gets along totally and nobody ever says a hurtful thing to another. That is not possible. We are after all humans. I also think that sometimes things left on facebook or send via text or email can easily be misinterpreted by others. I know that because it has happened to me many times. The written word doesn’t allow us to see the expression of the person giving the message or provide us an opportunity to hear the tone and inflections in their voice the way face to face conversation does.
In the article Pronunciation: Changing Meaning through Word Stress written for About.com by Kenneth Beare, he gives this example of how the meaning of a sentence is changed simply because a different word is stressed when speaking. Here is his example:
1. I said she might consider a new haircut. (It was my idea.)
2. I said she might consider a new haircut. (Don't you understand me?)
3. I said she might consider a new haircut. (Not another person.)
4. I said she might consider a new haircut. (It's a possibility.)
5. I said she might consider a new haircut. (She should think about it. it's a good idea.)
6. I said she might consider a new haircut. (Not just a haircut.)
7. I said she might consider a new haircut. (Not something else.)
Do you see what I mean? When you take the face to face contact out of the equation leaving only text to convey our thoughts a lot of meaning may be missed or misinterpreted by the reader. Add to the equation the fact that most people who text or use facebook use abbreviations for everything possible and you increase the chance of misunderstanding even more. I do think that this is part of the problem but only a small part.
I really think that we live under a double standard. The way we expect to be treated and talked to is totally different from the way that we choose to talk to and treat others. “Oh, get over it. I was only joking. Can’t you take a joke?” But let’s put the shoe on your foot and let you see how comfortable it is to be called out on facebook. If you ask them they will say that it doesn’t matter but do you really think it’s true? Do you really think their self esteem is so high that being called vulgar names doesn’t affect them in any way? I am sorry but I just don’t buy it. I have seen firsthand the pain that these careless words cause and I believe that many others are hurt but are just able to hide it a little better than others. No one can judge the pain of another by simply looking at them. You never know the secret wounds that others may carry.
I look around me and see a lot of wounded and hurting people. I see those same people lashing out at others feeling that they are justified because of something that was done to them. Still others do it at an attempt to fit in-for acceptance and popularity. They are blind to the possible destruction they are causing with their words.
Words carry a lot of power. Martin Luther King used words to convince others to stand up and fight for civil rights. Adolf Hitler used words to convince others that it was necessary to eliminate an entire race of people. Our words do have power. They have the power of life and death, the ability to build up or tear down, the capacity to bless or to curse. We don’t get to choose whether or not we impact the lives of others we cross paths with. Often we are unaware of the impression we make on others. But we can control whether that influence is negative or positive, a curse or a blessing. So before you speak harshly about another or judge them and dismiss their feelings as irrational think about the power your words and your actions carry with them. I know that I will.
21 Words kill, words give life; they're either poison or fruit—you choose.~Proverbs 18:21 (The Message)
34-37"You have minds like a snake pit! How do you suppose what you say is worth anything when you are so foul-minded? It's your heart, not the dictionary, that gives meaning to your words. A good person produces good deeds and words season after season. An evil person is a blight on the orchard. Let me tell you something: Every one of these careless words is going to come back to haunt you. There will be a time of Reckoning. Words are powerful; take them seriously. Words can be your salvation. Words can also be your damnation." Matthew 12:37 (The Message)
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