I am often caught off guard

As a parent, we all go through periods of distress and insurmountable love. I’m often taken by surprise when other parents don’t seem to be able to give their children the basic things that they need. One child in particular comes to mind and just today another thing to make me wonder comes up. He is often at school functions, band concerts, etc… his attendance is often manditory for a grade, you see. But more than once I’ve seen the child walking home afterwards, the first couple of times I did not realize this was what was going on until after the fact or I would have offered him a ride. It wasn’t just a short walk home, either. We’re talking four or five miles in the middle of December, after dark. The guilt I felt that he had to do that nearly broke me. I have decided that I will stop next time I see him, even if it turns out that he is just walking down the block. He is in class with my oldest son and my goddaughter, so maybe it will be ok. I do not understand how a parent could just disregard a child like that. I do understand that parents have obligations that they sometimes can’t get away from, but every single time? The kids tell me it happens constantly. How could anyone wonder that the child is so angry all the time? I would be angry, too. My heart aches for this child. I am not a perfect parent, I am well aware of my flaws, and I’m certain my kids will need some form of therapy or another. But I do hope they remember that their parents were there, or made sure that someone was there in their absence. That they loved them through the frustrations and rough patches.

 

Impossible circumstances and blatant pedophilia…

http://ngm.nationalgeographic.com/2011/06/child-brides/gorney-text/1

I read this article this morning and it occurred to me once again that people all over the world are afflicted by such nasty, vile creatures in their society. Only difference is that in some parts of the world, parents are in on the transfer of their children to these predators. What need does a 50-year-old man have of a 10-year-old child-bride? If there will be no sexual relation, she is but another mouth to feed in a household that is probably already too bloated. But I think we all know that the child most likely was violated as immediately as possible. It sickens me to realize that people seem to have no sense, they let traditions color their decisions. We all must evolve and let certain traditions die in the name of progress and safety.

A few years ago, I was mildly obsessed with the FLDS sect and the writings of at least two of the young brides forced into such situations here in our own society where this sort of thing is completely looked down upon and illegal. It occurred to me then that it was simply the support of nasty pedophiles that kept the entire thing going. All in the name of religious faith. This is why I do not see merit in the religiousness of groups as a whole. Personal accountability for your own faith and salvation should be enough, men completely pervert and corrupt things of this nature. It is evident everywhere.

Back to the article at hand, the pictures possibly are the most effective tool. Such soulful eyes looking back at you, often with something that appears an awful lot like fear, asking what more they can do but follow these traditions and customs laid out before them by the people they should be able to trust the most. A man centric society is a corrupt society, it appears. One young lady is 26 years old with ten children of her own. Chances are very good that at least a few of her daughters will suffer the same fate. If for nothing more than the need for someone else to take the financial burden from the family. But it is looked upon with great pride that she has had these 10 children at her young age. It seems to me that if there were less births, the need to give your daughters to older men whom will prey upon them sexually would be nil. The saddest part of the whole ordeal? No one even remotely prepares these girls for what they are likely to go through on their wedding night. No one explains what will happen once they are pregnant and are due to give birth. No one takes the time to care for these young ladies after their bodies fail them in childbirth and they have life long medical issues and incontinence (which is seen as a stain upon the woman, not the vile beast that did these things to her.) No one takes care to save the 13-year-old girl who has had her internal organs ruptured by some savage within the first four days of this ‘marriage’ she has just been forced to endure.

It is rape, plain and simple. Just because it is brokered between two adults does not make it any less brutal and disgusting. It is unacceptable and opinions of these customs and traditions must be swayed. Fathers must be encouraged to see the value in their daughters not just as wives, but as human beings separate and apart from a man. Little girls shouldn’t have to dream of going to high school while living the night mare of a marriage arranged by seemingly uncaring adults. They should be dreading high school while they dream of a grand wedding some day to someone who loves them and will wait until they are ready to be a wife. It is a simple idea yet so complex to some.

It begs the question: What happens when these nasty men aren’t satisfied with their young females, do they also prey upon the young boys and no one says a word? It seems that since men are valued above everything else that it would not be tolerated. But I do wonder, eventually child brides will not be enough for a pedophile. And what grown man would bed a 10 yr old child and not be called a pedophile, am I not right?

End of the year bliss…

Oh how I love this time of the year. I am counting the days until I have a summer unfettered by schedules and drop off/pick up lines. I can sleep late, stay up late, indulge in  teenage behavior until my heart is content. Bliss.

This year is no different but the added relief of fewer trips to the gas pump has me down right giddy! Honestly, it might be cheaper to rent a house in that district instead of paying for all the gas, but we have a perfectly good home here…

But, who cares? It’s all out the window for now. I get to harass kids all summer long while resorting to my night owlish ways. Giddy!

I have added a yearly tradition to my schedule. I have been to pick strawberries twice this year and I plan to make it a habit. They are so much better than anything you can get at the grocery. Hands down a million times better. E has eaten so many that I think she’ll turn red any moment. I know for a fact that she’s eat an entire quart herself since Thursday. She’s still pretty tiny! I knew when our little plants were only producing a ripe berry every few days that I would have to do something. She would check them and say, “Meme, can I have that straawbwery?” hardly waiting until I washed it. The darn critters are beating her to her little treats, they like them very much, too.

Happy spring’s end to one and all, I plan to usher in the summer sleeping in, swimming, and otherwise enjoying our little domestication type situation. As aggravating  as kids are, they are so much fun to have around. I’m one of those parents who really does hate to see summer come to a close. I miss my little minion, they should be here doing my biding, no one else’s. TYVM.

Has The World Gone Mad?

I am asking myself this every single day. An all out war on Unions. All the talk of governmental shut downs and the loss of pay to the government employees with the exception of the already wealthy bureaucrats that are not effecting a budget. The Libyan crisis and the lack of congressional approval, how the POTUS is teh bad for not procuring it first, never-mind the past few presidents (token white dudes, btw) used the same actions in other conflicts. Even the beloved Reagan made the very same executive decisions to use force in Libya… So much hypocrisy. The distrust and hate that is being pumped onto the general, miserable, public is disheartening.

We are all miserable at the moment, the economy isn’t on par, the job market is still terrible, people are suffering all over the place. It’s proper breeding grounds for people to prey on their weakened facilities. Plutocracy, it’s the new black. Make people believe it’s actually for their benefit, that it’s a good thing to lose their rights left and right. You’re worried about your second amendment rights when you’d give away your right to collective bargaining all the while calling the people who are fighting that fight greedy? Really? You think that you’re not next? It’s cute how you just roll over and let them beat you down without even realizing it. It’s all good fun when it’s someone else’s money they’re taking away, but when they come for yours, will you be ready?

Won’t even start on reproductive rights and gay marriage/rights. I don’t need the stress. I get so angry when people can’t just let it be. Take control of your own life and let everyone else make their own choices. If you don’t have a uterus to control, that’s just too bad for you. You obviously don’t have to marry another dude (or chick if that’s your gender), so why is it such a problem for someone else to marry another guy? It’s not, it’s just icky to you so therefore shouldn’t be allowed. Well, bigoted pricks are icky to me, but they’re allowed to breathe. Unfortunate, really.

Happy Anniversary…

To the most handsome man I have ever known. There is something to be said for outward beauty but the truth worth of a man is the make up of his character. I could not have picked a better mate.  A solid partner, someone who helped me make beautifully intelligent babies, and who helps me to parent them equally well, not to mention a great lover. How lucky can one girl be?

They say that every girl marries a man like her father. This wasn’t the case for me. Perhaps due to my parents divorce and growing up mostly in my grandparents’ home, I picked a man most like my grandfather. He wasn’t perfect, but he was pretty freakin’ awesome to me. And that’s how Daniel is. He’s not perfect, but he’s pretty damn awesome at being my partner in crime.

 

 

Now, it must be said that I did grow up with my grandparents but my parents weren’t deadbeats by any means. My mother worked nights and my dad didn’t really know what to do with a kid. Or any other person outside of himself, for that matter. I am 100% certain that he was autistic, knowing what I know now. There will never be a concrete diagnosis as he’s gone now, but there is overwhelming evidence in that favor. He was a good dad in all the ways he knew how to be, he just wasn’t my concrete fatherly role model type person. Which is ok, as it turns out!

Beef Bourguignon Crockpot recipe Modified…

My dearest woke up feeling helpful this morning. He decided he’d put on the roast I bought yesterday to be ready for dinner. He didn’t know I had a specific recipe in mind! He knew the basic principle of what I was going for though, so he did pretty good! I only had to add a few things to get it on the way to what I had planned. Crisis averted.

Someone posted the link to this recipe on a forum that I frequent sometime last year. I tried it at the time and loved the results. This time I didn’t have red wine on hand so I used beer instead. It turned out fantastically. Before this recipe, I had never used alcohol for cooking purposes. Neither of us enjoy wine in any capacity but we were both pleasantly surprised when we sat down to this dish last year. I had used beer on beef before, but not this recipe specifically. I’m happy to say that the modifications were pretty darn yummy. It’s not as strong, which I think I prefer. James liked both versions equally.

I actually forgot to pick up carrots yesterday. Instead of fresh carrots, I just put in the sliced carrots I had in my pantry a few minutes before serving. I’m also fresh out of herbs de provence. She lists a recipe to make your own and I put what I had on hand in my spice cabinet into the pot. Melisa’s brand has an organic grinder which is what I used last time. I actually prefer the Garden Herb Sea Salt but eh.

Everything is hanging out on a bed of yummy mashed potatoes. I like to add a little sour cream or cream cheese for creaminess and depth. Also, it’s just dang good.

 

The original recipe for Beef Bourguignon Slow Cooker style.

P.S. My food photography skills are pretty lame. Sorry about that.

It occurs to me…

That I write with this ridiculous mix of text speak and some archaic nonsense. It’s not on purpose, I think that I actually speak this way.

While editing some written work, I keep thinking, “WTF? No, the heroin wouldn’t say something like, ‘I will leave your entourage as they are. Dr. Allen will have moved him away from where I am likely to show up. She’s freakishly keen.’ No, no, that won’t do.” *edits* I look up and it says something equally redonk. This is why I’ll never be published. I’ma go hang out on ff.net now, FTW. They’ll love me there. Awesome.

The cursed tree…

is still up in my living room. I knew this would happen. I undecorated it, I packed all that stuff away, yet there the naked tree sits mocking me. It says, “Suck it, Biotch. I ain’t goin’ anywhere. You’re too lazy and full of excuses and no one else cares, so HA!” Stupid christmas tree.

And so it begins…

Last week, after the sudden death of a friend’s classmate in a car accident, I was thinking about the blessed lack of tragedy that had befallen the group of kids I went to school with. Though our school was small, our Sr. class consisted of only 27 graduating seniors, things happen. I can no longer say that something terrible hasn’t happen to one of us. A classmate, a very sweet guy who I was friends with in a sort of passersby way, died Friday evening while working. An autopsy is underway but we’ve been told that it was most likely a heart related incident. His father died young of heart complications of some type, at least that’s what many of us seem to remember. It’s so sad, he leaves behind a wife and two children that will undoubtedly miss him very much.

Kenneth, or KK as he was called in school, was such a nice guy. He was a tall, lanky kid with the strawberriest of blonde/red hair. He had a lovely smattering of freckles and a funny gait that tall teenager boys seem to gain from growing too fast for their bones to catch up to. I honestly do not remember him ever being cross with anyone. Even at our ten year reunion, he showed up a little late, but he was so polite while I helped him get a plate sorted out and fixed up. He had four siblings, if I remember correctly, three brothers and finally a baby sister. I remember his mom because after I married my husband, my mil reminded me of her a lot. She could have been his mother’s mom, actually. Tall and thin, blondish long hair, that sort of thing. After school, as most do, we lost touch and I believe his family moved away from our small little town. I suppose his mom had to work things out after his father died, he was in his forties so she was young, too.

KK had worked in various food establishments, I’d seen him a couple of times after graduation, and he always had a smile and remembrance in his greeting even though we were not close friends. So, I suppose, that the goodness of a man is best remembered in times like these and I have no problem what so ever remembering Kenneth as a pretty great guy. My heart bleeds for his wife, I can not imagine what she must be going through, and his children who must be quite young still. Rest well, KK, and here is to a blessed afterlife without the burdens of this life.

My husband’s aunt passed away this week, too. Her funeral was today and it was so hard. I am crazy about one of his cousins, a daughter, and it broke my heart to watch her suffer. Losing your mother, no matter how old you are, is something that causes great grief and soul searching experiences that I do not wish to ever have to relive. Which, I suppose I never will since you can only lose your mother once. I hope for the kids, all five of them, peace and calm. I know that Mrs. Ellen is in her own personal heaven as she so strongly believed in, but I wish her peace as well.

The turmoil in Arizona seems overshadowed by political rhetoric but as a parent all I can think about is that a family lost a darling child, innocent and pure, to madness. Senseless and tragic, my heart goes out to her family, too. My grandmother says that no mother should ever have to bury her child and that there is no greater pain. I hope to never have the experience, I’m sure most feel the same. From mother to mother, my deepest, heartfelt sympathy goes to Christina-Taylor Green’s mother (and her father, which I do not diminish his grief, I just have no fathering experience so I’ll have to leave that up to the boys).

Every Rose Has Its Thorn…

With the holidays my diet has been completely mad. For most people this is a fact of nature. For me it’s pretty dang scary. I’m searching for some ghost craving and it’s making me miserable. I eat foods that I don’t really want, then an hour later I’m looking for something again. It’s purely psychological, I think. It is possible it’s a need for nutrients, I’ve considered that, I am not good with the vitamins…

I should probably do the five day pouch reset, I’ve heard it can do pretty good things. Excuses, excuses, I know, but I hate protein powder. The reset consists of a lot of protein shakes and liquid dieting to which I’m no stranger. However, post surgery, I find that I am incredibly lazy and the protein powder has to be a certain brand. Which I have to order and I have to play holiday catch up first. I’ll probably try to modify the reset diet and watch what I’m consuming a little closer. Probably. I hate feeling this miserable, though.

It has been three and a half years since I took the trip to Monterrey, Mexico to have Gastric Bypass with Dr. Rumbaut. It was a terrifyingly exciting decision and for the most part I haven’t regretted it one bit. Losing weight didn’t change the things I thought it would. I’m still incredibly anxious and people shy. I am not able to start or hold conversations well. I still don’t like to get out of my house when I’m in a funk, which is a lot. I had thought when I was ‘skinny’ that would change too. No more depression because the fat wouldn’t be holding me back. It turns out, the depression wasn’t because I was fat. It was because I have a pretty serious tendency toward depression and severe anxiety. I still hate to shop, even if I can go into any store and buy clothing off the rack without worrying if it might fit. Funny how you can’t go into Victoria’s Secret even though you’re a size six because you’re convinced that everyone in the store knows you don’t belong because you’re way too fat. Hi, eating disorder.

Yet still, I’m happy with the outcome of my weight loss. I feel better physically, and I know now that the pain I was experiencing wasn’t just because I was ‘overweight’ as my PCP constantly suggested. It’s funny how people stop looking at your ailments as caused by your weight when you weigh 140lbs instead of 300+lbs. Same issue, but now magically it’s possibly RA or another auto-immune disorder instead of just Fatassitis. Sweet. Heh. I have a gorgeous two and a half year old that I wouldn’t have if not for the surgery.My kids don’t remember their mom being so unhealthily large and my husband thinks I’m great. Still. A pretty good dude, if a tad bothersome now with the ‘oh look a shiny new play thing!Eleventy!1′. Still incredibly cute though.

Life is a beautiful tragedy and no one makes it out alive. I have been blessed many times over and for that I am thankful. I haven’t the slightest idea how 2011 will go (one can only hope it looks better than 2010) but I do wish everyone a prosperous New Year full of joy, love, and good things.