I’m veering off topic by a lot. I’m just going to say that my son is not worldly in the slightest and move on.

We were in the car on the way to my office when AJ asks, out of nowhere as per the norm, “Why do we celebrate 4th of July?” I’m not good with history, but I did my very best to explain our declaration of independence from England and why we chose to do so. He took this to mean that “we’re at war with England!” I explained that this was a long time ago and we are fine with England now. In fact, we’re pretty good friends. We like them. We do tea without tossing it over boats.

No. This is unacceptable. They were bad. They must pay. Grudges must be held.

I could feel the stewing going on in the back seat…and I chose to ignore it.

Until trivia night last night. There was a question regarding the back of the new quarters and the design on the back of one of them. The question had nothing to do with England, nor did it have to do with 4th of July or our war with England. But AJ chose to answer the question as “Florida. Because it has a direct line from England.”

I may not be strong in history. He’s not strong in geography. We’re both strong in grudge holding, but I think he’s got me beat. He mutters “England” in the same voice I utter “Derek Jeter.”

That’s my kid.

England, you better watch your back.

Last night, as I sat in the rain to watch my 9-year-old play, after my full day of practicum and class, I watched you make a donkey of yourself. You made me really angry, so what I am about to say is probably going to shock you and several other people, but I’ve had a really bad several months and you know what they say about my give a flip…it’s busted.

When you ran over to the umpire to not just chastise him for a call, but yell at that 17-year old kid because of the placement of the glove on the little kid’s chest, it was all I could do not to take my super strength golf umbrella and define “rip him a new one” for you without using google. Do you know what that phrase means? It means that you can push a 17-year-old kid around, but you are modeling behavior for my 9-year-old kid. Not doing the same poor behavior in front of him is the only thing that stopped me from showing you that you cannot bully everyone.

In the South, they call what you did “showing your ass” and sir, you certainly did. For the rest of the game, the parents did not focus on their children. They nervously bit their lips and watched your reactions. You were the free entertainment. Your own child, whichever poor soul he was, was certainly not focused on the game.

I have dealt with people like you before and let me tell you, they get what they deserve. Maybe not on a little league field, but in life. The manager who browbeat her staff got fired hardcore and couldn’t find a job for months. Karma is a very real thing. Last night, we all got a nice little treat of how you act, but the worst part of it was that we saw what your family puts up with on a regular basis and we felt for them.

It might be time to relax, my friend. Strokes and heart attacks are not to be messed with. Deep breathing and some time at the spa might do you, and the rest of us by proxy, some good.

Sincerely,

Me

The only child would go down the well-kept knoll to the house of the children of a divorced home who were well-adjusted and liked the only child a great deal. They treated him well, for the most part, with few spats.

However, the hippie parents were those permissive kind. You know, the kind whose kids would NEVER do anything to hurt a fly and who can stay out as late as they want and burn puppies. The kind of parents who raise little smart alecks who don’t have a problem talking tough and being mean to sensitive little only children by throwing water on them while they are playing their mom’s very expensive Nintendo DS. Or who throw stuff at the fun loving dad’s new Honda Element that he loves more than whiskey. Or who ring the doorbell just to upset the four precious, beloved dogs who live in the house and then run away so the fun loving mom can’t smack them in their fool head.

So, the knoll has become volatile as the fun loving dad has sent email after email only to have hippie dad say “boys will be boys” and “I don’t take secondhand information as fact.”

So the fun-loving mom is keeping her eye out. And the hippie parents are gonna get smacked in their hippie heads and the hippie kids are gonna get hit with fun loving paint balls that the fun loving mom is going to go out and buy this weekend because private property is private property and a hippie kid looks an awful lot like a fox or a coyote.

Little hippie brats.

And we’ll all live happily ever after.

However, I think that my time being out in the schools for my practicum is softening me up a bit.

Tonight, on the way home from school, it was lightly raining. One thing about Nashvillians that I can’t say anything positive about is the way that they drive in the rain. It’s like the grandfather Sunday driver who has taken his sleeping pills. It’s just that bad.

I was behind one such driver at a stoplight close to my home tonight. Generally, I’m in a rush to get home after being gone all day, but I was pretty mellow tonight. The car behind me wasn’t and, when grandpa didn’t get going, the person behind me honked LOUDLY and LONGLY. Is longly a word? Long-ing-ly is a word. I digress.

Normally, the point that the person honks at me is the point where I glare and start telling them all kinds of things in the privacy of my car. Tonight, I just looked at them and said, “I don’t have any idea why you are honking at me. I’m not the line leader.”

I’m not the line leader.

It didn’t even click for about 30 seconds what I’d said aloud.

Go ahead. I have no defense. Say what you will. I’m losing my edge.

After a fitful night of sleep, I woke up and got dressed and SHELL I had a migraine.

Leon was going out of town, so we decided to meet for lunch. On the way there, I bumped the side of my tire rim on a parking block. SHELL

I had an hour between lunch and a doctor’s appointment, so I went to the dollar tree for a little non-harmful retail therapy. I actually needed some toilet bowl cleaner (WOOO!), so it was productive. Until a woman in the cheeseball aisle walked directly up to me and burped in my face. And not a polite, oopsy burp. A full on sailor belch. I almost vomited. SHELL

When I got to the doctor, I sat in one of the 30 available seats and an old man came in and sat right next to me. Within 3 minutes, I heard a nasty noise, felt a small vibration on the connecting seat and it began to stink really, really bad. Then it happened again. And again.

The old man next to me was pooping in a diaper. Right next to me.

He turned to me and grinned.

He did it on purpose.

SHELL

More stuff happened, but I think that pretty well takes the cake.

When I picked up A.J. from school, we went to Sonic. I got a Route 44 (super huge) Sweet tea and got him a shake. I needed it.

If anyone feels the need to come sit right next to me, when there are 30 available chairs and burp in my face or poop, they can go shell themselves.

Edumacation Stats for one blueshelled GQ Southern mom blogger

4 years for a B.S
+1 year I lost in credits switching schools
+2 years for M.S.
+ 4 years for Ph.D
+1 year M.S. practicum
+2 years apprenticeship for M.S. licensure (70% done with this)
+ 1 year, PhD practicum
+1 year Ph.D internship
+2 years apprenticeship for PhD licensure
= not even close to the prestige that an MD gets for roughly the same amount of education.

I’m about to start the PhD practicum process, so you can see exactly where I am in this development. My M.S is in a different subfield of the Subject, so my PhD will not cover the licensure for it. But I think you get my frustration. Yes, my hours may be cushier and I may not have to do rotations, but I am a highly educated woman and I’m going to know a lot about a lot when I come out of this.

I’m just saying.

I’ll take this one from neatorama. She looks nice and scared. She can come home with me.

Here’s what would happen if I took Tubby home, though. She would first pee on my clothes while rubbing on both Leon and A.J. and destroying my dogs and their will to live. Then she’d eat all of my food and pee on my furniture, only in the places where I sit. Every time I bothered to look at my husband, who would be her new human, she’d glare at me with a look that said “I’m waiting until you die so I can eat your face.” Would you like to know how I know this? Check out this page and see the header “Francis.”

The only thing you really need to know from all of this is that I love animals of most sorts. Not all animals. PETA can come hate on me whenever they want. There are certain animals that scare the bejeebus out of me and that won’t change no matter how much paint or food coloring you splatter on me.

I have a particularly tender heart for animals, actually. I’m one of those people that love my pets like family and care about their well-being. So, for someone like me, the internet can be an unusually hazardous place to navigate. It also makes me angry beyond belief and right now my heart is breaking and my temper is lit like Times Square on New Years Eve.

After reading this article, I am troubled. There is no doubt in my mind that the media used the most flippant picture they could find of this young girl, but it’s hard for me to not want to reach through the computer and tell her some things. In the article, the girl, who is 17 years old and named Cheyenne, said that she roasted her ex-roommate’s kitten to death in the stove as a joke.

A joke.

She roasted a kitten alive as “a joke.” Normal people do not consider this “a joke.” This is after they broke into the person’s apartment and trashed it. That was the beginning of the joke. Then they threw the cat into the stove and left it there to burn. The article, written by Lisa Coleangelo, Erica Pearson and Bill Hutchinson states that she was charged with “aggravated cruelty to animals, burglary, arson, reckless endangerment and criminal mischief.” They then released her into her mother’s custody, where she obviously has freedom to do whatever she wants in the first place.

Ok, let’s cast a little aspersion on character for just a small second here. Who, in their right mind, considers what this person did a sound idea? A just idea? When people start harming animals in adolescence, it often leads to stronger issues in adulthood. Of course, they don’t mention if she had any kind of mental check, but they won’t release that kind of information. We have to assume they didn’t or, if they did, she checked out just fine.

Where do we draw the line? If someone is 17, almost an adult, and they show this lack of judgment, what does that mean, if anything? We have graduated licenses for those drivers that aren’t quite ready for the responsibility, what about graduated adulthood? Granting those teenagers that show wise judgment the rights and responsibilities of adulthood and putting those that do not on a graduated course that they, ideally, should have already taken in economics, parenting, society and good common sense, in high school?

I know, I know. It’s a strong statement, but I’m feeling strongly about this today. Thoughts?

There are two things that are not a secret to anyone that knows me even a little bit:

1/I’m not a morning person. Really. I can’t even fake it when I give it the old college try.
2/I am prone to road rage when I feel like someone is a stupid driver. No, I don’t run people down or flip them off, but I will rant at them within the confines of my own car and it won’t be pretty, loving words.

However, this particular morning, I was feeling great. I was drinking my water and appreciating that I have the privilege of driving along a road that is almost entirely lined with trees for 20 minutes straight to go to a job I love with all of my heart and that I actually look forward to each and every time I go there. Life was good and I was happy.

Until…BABY ON BOARD!!!!! ALERT!!!! THERE IS A BABY IN THIS CAR!!! What this means is that I will frequently brake and jerk my car and you will be responsible for HARMING MY CHILD!!!! should you hit this car. I will weave in and out of a two-lane road and I may, without warning, brake for no reason! And you won’t know about it because my baby on board sign will be blocking the brake light in the back windshield and the brake lights will also be obscured by the sunshine! So, it will be an utter crapshoot as to when this will happen.

My good mood waned and irritation set in as it took everything I had not to use my cell phone light to start morse coding this person that her baby on board sign was blocking the only means I had to keep from driving directly into her trunk. I was carefully keeping my distance, but when I say this person was driving erratically, that is an understatement. I don’t know what the laws are about blocking that brake light, if there are any, but I know that it made driving near her (I’m assuming it was a her, but it could have been a man), very, very difficult.

Luckily, after about 10 minutes of this, she and baby drove off to irritate other drivers and I could proceed on to work. My good mood returned and the day turned out to be another fantastic one.

A more clever baby on board sign

I have to admit, though, if I’m being honest, that she may have conditioned me that people that use those signs have issues. If you want me to believe you care about your child, skip the sign and drive like YOU care about your child. Worry less about me and more about yourself.

William Cunningham is a man who, in a disgusting attempt to gain funds from Campbell’s soup, put lighter fluid in his children’s soup and almost killed them.

It is difficult to work in any kind of helping profession and not become an advocate for children. It’s next to impossible for a parent, working in that profession, to not get herself in massive amounts of trouble when it comes to things like this because her fury overwhelms her.

When I read this story, I was reminded of the anger and upset I felt when I heard about the Susan Smith and Andrea Yates cases. In this particular case, I don’t know whether or not he intended to kill his children, but the fact that he was using their lives as pawns in a sick money scheme for his own benefit has never been in question.

The other night, Leon was out of town and AJ was sleeping. Those moments when I can observe him like the possessive mother that I am are rare and precious because he rarely allows me to just WATCH him. He will make silly faces, or fill the silence with his boyish chatter. When he sleeps, I become aware of how vulnerable he is and how, even though he’s a tall child, he’s small inside with a big heart.

I continue to try to understand how someone can look at their child and see dollar signs. What compels that kind of behavior? I can look at it and diagnose it and think about it rationally and logically, but I want to understand the emotion that is behind that kind of behavior.

I spend many nights carefully considering the best decisions for my child in the long run. What happened within this parent that he didn’t? How quick was his snap to this level?

It doesn’t matter if I ever understand why someone can do this, and truthfully, I don’t know if that knowledge would soothe me or disturb me. The one thing I do know and recognize is that by seeing these cases 2 things are perfectly clear:
1/There are many parents out there that are doing the absolute best they can without harming their children in any way &
2/the only thing I can do in this situation is change my awareness levels and work to help others with their own.

Remember my post on shoddy airline practices? Well, it’s not just US Airways. I’ve flown Delta many times in the past and have always had great customer service, but this policy is CRAZY. Delta is now going to charge $125 for bag 3 and $200 for bags 4-10 per flight.

According to http://consumerist.com:

Unfortunately for Bradley, the information is on Delta’s site, but it’s separated into a page by itself under the heading “excess baggage.” This is where you can find out what sort of gouging they’re going to do if you exceed the norm of 2 bags—and where it says that bag 3 will cost $125, and bags 4-10 will cost $200 each.

SAY WHAT? Ok, I rarely bring my 2 bags that I’m allowed. So, since I do that, can I get a bag credit to save up for times I might require extra bags? Or how about a cheaper ticket for those of us who don’t need bags? I understand the need to limit the number of bags as they can only hold so much stuff and there must be room for all the passengers as well as their goods, but the charges here are overboard. If people could afford those prices, would they really fly Delta or would they have their own personal jet for travel?

I’m not going to dwell on this or make this into a full blog entry. However, if I’m going to yell at US Airways, it’s only fair to yell at Delta, too, for shady, shoddy practices.

This has led to almost a fanatic obsession with the online website The Consumerist. It not only informs me of anything shady that is going down, it gives me a healthy dose of anger and “holding the man down” mentality. I like it.

I was looking for a nice anger rush when I saw this post. It includes this quote:

Speaking to analysts during US Airways Group Inc.’s earnings call last week, president Scott Kirby said that airline clearly has made a lot of money by charging for checked bags.

But that doesn’t mean that Southwest isn’t benefiting from not charging the fees, he said.

“It’s possible that Southwest receives a very small market share from a number of carriers,” Kirby said.

Yep, that did it.

I don’t fly often, but I’m fixin’ to start. For those of you that don’t live in the South, that means I’m preparing myself to begin. I have to attend several conferences in the next year and this will require copious amounts of travel. I pack fairly light, but I know for sure that I am absolutely not paying for my bags. I’m just not. I already pay far too much for the convenience of going places and then get “fee’d” out the wazoo.

So, what I’m telling US Airways and all those other punks who think they are getting my cash and can charge me extra for stuff that they should be providing as part of what I’m already paying for: Forget it. I’ll take my business elsewhere and I’m not the only one. I will drive before I’ll pay you my money because I think that business ethics count. Some things are just the cost of doing business.

In the South, people say you catch more flies with honey than vinegar. And, Honey, you sure did miss the point.

Police have condemned adults who play the latest in Nintendo’s popular Animal Crossing series, “Animal Crossing: City Folk”, as being predatory paedophiles, saying “There is no reason an adult should have this game”, and claiming that the only motive an adult could have for playing it is to seduce children.

The warning comes from the Mid-Missouri Internet Crimes Task Force, where investigator Andy Anderson warns that any adult playing the game “is likely doing so for the wrong reasons”, and points out that online predators could be lurking in the game thanks to its multiplayer capabilities.

Anderson further warns that police just don’t have the resources to stamp out the Animal Crossing lolicon menace, meaning parents may even have to resort to supervising their own children: “The equipment is real expensive and we cannot afford to buy all of the systems and do not have the resources either to examine all of the possibilities.”

The source darkly talks of the game’s relationship building system, where players can exchange letters, gifts and favours in pursuit of friendship, implying out that these elements are tantamount to putting children on a nationwide lolicon meat-market.

The Internet task force then went on to RE-ITERATE THEIR WARNING stating children were being contacted inappropriately, however, after sounding their big, freaking warning bell, stated that not all adults that play the game are pedophiles. Well, thank you for clearing it up in what amounts to the fine print.

Let me explain why this upset me so.

First, it’s personal. I play the game. I do and I love it. Oh, yes I do. It’s a fun, non-challenging, mind-numbing game that allows me to connect with my 8-year old. I watch him play the game, he watches me play the game, we compete for whatever goodies are in the recycling bin, we negotiate for furniture and items, he learns the value of a dollar and he’s already learning that he has to pay a mortgage and contribute to his community as he gets older. It teaches friendship and volunteerism, savvy saving and negotiation, taking care of a home and keeping a job, but also relaxing and fishing and playing hide and go seek.

So far, there are no little red flags going off about the fishing going on or the apple picking taking place in the game, but if I find anything “sickening” about the game, I will be the first to take Nintendo to task.

Second, the initial article stated that their was no reason for an adult to play the game. Well, was there a reason for an adult to play Mario Bros? Probably not, other than it was hellatiously fun. How many of the people on that force played Mario Bros? Or Zelda? Or Super Smash Bros? Let’s get me started on the fact that when I was first introduced to the game, through Nintendo’s excellence in marketing, it was through this commercial:

Anyone notice anything interesting about the people in that commercial? Do they look like little kids to you? I thought to myself, “Self, what a great way to connect with your friends and family.” My little sister is 12 years old and lives with my mother. My friends live all over the country and some outside of the country. With Wii-Speak, we could play a game together and hang out at the same time. What a fascinating concept? Nintendo had me hooked only to have these idiots call me a pedophile? What the soup?

Let me tell you how something like this affects people. Being called a pedophile, and having that suspicion cast on me would cause me to lose my job, the career I’ve spent over 8 years in school for as well as throw me out of my doctoral program. It would help me lose my child, with whom I have a fantastic relationship. I would be a pariah in my society.

Let’s think before we speak task-force. It’s something I taught my son when he was 4.

As a parent, monitor everything your child does on the internet and on anything that connects to it including gaming systems and cell phones. This is common parenting sense.

But if anyone truly thinks everyone who plays this game has these issues they really need to examine why they might believe that someone who likes an innocent video game for stress relief has those kinds of pathological feelings about children. “All” is a serious and damaging generalization and should be avoided if possible. And please don’t believe everything you see or read on the news or even on the blogosphere. It’s sensationalism and everyone writes for an audience. Myself included.

There. I said it. Throw your stones.

I’ve known it for a while, but I tried to play it off like it was nothing. I’m an introvert by nature and I’m tired of pretending to be something I’m not. My eyes were opened the day I saw an egg on the front of a book and for some reason decided to read it. It was and still is one of the best books I’ve ever read in my life and I high recommend The Introvert Advantage by Marti Olsen Laney to any and every single person in the whole world who thinks they might be uncomfortable in a group setting. I fought the introvert in me for years by throwing myself into drama, choir, band (yes, I was not the most popular person in high school) and essentially tried to do what I thought I “should” do. I have no idea where I got the idea I “should” be anything, but it felt like the thing to do. Until I read this book.

Now that you have the back story, I’m not a team player. I try to be a team player, I do, and I can be a team player when I really put my mind to it. Last night, in class, there was a narcissist in my group and I about lost it on her. What was to be a group decision became about who could “sway her vote” because with a narcissist it’s all about HER (or him but in this case she was female). I almost walked out of the class. I’m working on self-control in those situations. The woman is in her 50s. I’m almost 30 and I feel like I’m too old for the behavior that says “when I’m in a group you must all fight to change my opinion.” Screw you, lady. We have our opinions and we’ll all pick the last option together. It doesn’t mean that since you now know what we might pick that you get to have us fight so you can change yours.

I also tend to get annoyed when other faculty at my college try to intimidate me. As this is a particularly sensitive issue, I’ll just say this: No, you can’t have it and you aren’t intimidating me because you may bark loud but I’m bigger than you are so I’m not scared. Just because you are demanding, rude and a backbiter doesn’t mean you’ll get your way. I put my name on it and it’s mine. Get your own.

Lastly, I’m an adult. Don’t shush me when I walk into a room to ask you about something of mine that another faculty told me you confiscated without permission and have apparently been hoarding in your office. I didn’t make up the idea, it was expressed to me and I was coming to seek out the truth of the matter so I would know what to do when my class started IN 5 MINUTES. If you shush me again, I will get mean. Really, really mean. Don’t shush me. Ever.

I love my second job. I hate the sidework. I hate grading. I hate talking to kids who I know are giving their all about the drop deadline because I’m worried about their future. I hate talking to kids who I know aren’t giving their all because I’m worried about their future. Most of all, I hate dealing with other people who have varying ideas of how much better than me they think they are (not all of them, sillies, that would be a generalization, some of them are awesome).

But I love what I do. I have two professions where I don’t technically have to BE a team player to do well.

Society can bite me. I’m doing just fine.