Posts

Me Time

I consider myself a hard working person. I currently have two jobs - three, if you count writing books, which I do; I put effort into it, and it makes me money, ergo it's a job. I also have kids and pets and a house that need keeping up. That's work, too. And, I'm not alone in this boat. I think I know more people with two (or more) part-time jobs than full-time ones, as there are more of the former to be had. Juggling three jobs is frustrating at times. I feel as though I'm being pulled in three directions. My "main" job (the one I've been at for 6+ years and have accrued vacation time with) is pretty flexible with my schedule as long as I am available on Saturdays. My other job is willing to work around the other days of the week, and I fit writing into the little nooks and crannies in between. If I get a few minutes to write, even if it's on the back of a pharmacy bag while standing in line at the grocery store, I'm working on whatever project

Immigrant.

It seems impossible to go anywhere or do anything today without seeing or hearing about immigration. Most people I've spoken to about it say they are "sick of having to talk about it." Ok. You're allowed to feel mentally exhausted by the constant barrage of information coming at you. But... We need  to keep talking about it. Not arguing, but talking. Like adults. Whether you agree or disagree is your opinion, and you're entitled to it. So am I. I can understand why some are not in favor of open borders - with all the hate and violence being spread around the world, we as a nation want to be safe. I get that. I want to be safe, too. Think about this, however... it is human nature to migrate. People have moved from place to place forever. Some make it an annual habit; traveling at regular intervals with the seasons to survive. Others find a nice spot and stay a while. Some travel great distances, across continents and oceans. Some just move their fa

I believe the children are our future...

(fair warning - I may drop a couple f-bombs) I should know better than to read the comment section on Facebook. Today, kids across our nation have taken time from their regularly scheduled classes to walk out in protest to our current gun control situation. Simultaneously, they used that time to honor victims of school shootings not only in Parkland, Florida one month ago, but each and every shooting death that could have been prevented. But, I'm not here to argue about gun control today. I could probably write a book about how I feel on that subject. I happened to catch a live feed on Facebook from a Roanoke news station, and at the bottom of the screen were a slew of little, angry face emojis. You know, those red and yellow dot frowny-faces with the furrowed eyebrows you click when something makes you upset? Yeah... those. The video is of a walkout at a nearby middle school, where students are peacefully protesting. They walked outside and held hands for seventeen minut

Oh, baby!

A friend's daughter has recently brought home one of those electronic babies from school... It's supposed to cry at random moments, and electronically records being picked up, having its diaper changed, etc. I've been informed that she'll be bringing it to my house tomorrow when she comes over to hang out with my kids. Part of me is curious to see how the little bugger works, but I'll most likely be hiding in my bedroom watching Desperate Housewives reveling the notion that there's a baby in the house and I don't have to take care of it. In my high school years they used to be 5 pound sacks of flour, but technology has become lost on us old people, you know. I can tell you, after having 3 children of my own who were born at more than eight pounds each, that little bag of flour became a big, fat lie. I also recall the short, but graphic car accident film we had to watch in driver's ed (do they still do that?). It was supposed to shock us into

Dirty girl...

At around four in the morning I was sound asleep. Was. My beloved Alice decided that she was filthy and proceeded to bathe herself on the pillow next to my head. Great. There are a multitude of sounds that happen when a cat gives herself a tongue bath, exacerbated by the fact that during the wee hours of the morning my house is exceptionally quiet. This harmony going on just inches from my ear throws my brain into hyper-drive.  There's the jingle-clatter of her collar bell and identification tags... which makes me think about how much jewelry is necessary for this eleven-pound kitty; one with my name and address, a rabies tag, a city tag, and a small ball and clapper to warn little birdies of the oncoming approach of a predator.... Add to that the sound of licking. Not just licking  ... no... at close range Alice sounds like she's chewing an extremely ripe banana... slowly....  Then  she finds a little knot in her coat which sends her into a frenzy, nibbling at the

Spidey-sense and Sensibility

There are moments in my life when I swear I'm psychic.  However, when I stop to think about it, it's more likely that I have, over the years, sharpened my intuition as a mom. I've honed the ability to recognize subtle changes in their behavior, stance, facial expression, etc., etc. in order to predict the next few events that will logically follow. Take the following scenario as an example... Standing in one of a variety of discount stores that grace the beautiful countryside of rural America, my son and I are shopping. The day has been fairly routine; breakfast, followed by about a half hour of Spongebob (or other varieties of animated delight), some light cleaning... you get the idea. He's been in a pretty good mood up to this point in the day.  By the time we reach the cleaning aisle, his demeanor changes... his skin has gotten a little paler, his eyes have glazed over as he stares bewildered into nothingness. My son now stops abruptly and leans forw

Talkin' bout my generation...

Earlier today, I had a short conversation with my daughter's friend... He was wondering where she was, as he had texted her, and she didn't reply, immediately. Of course, my daughter was getting ready to catch the school bus, and was already late since she had difficulty lifting herself from the mattress. Not to mention, she had to squeeze in several minutes worth of trying on every article of clothing she owns, and doing a quick scroll of her Facebook page, before leaving the front door to face the world. I would roll my eyes at this, but I realize, I do it too... Sometimes I have to drag my behind out of bed in the middle of the night to visit the commode, and I check the time on my phone... my hand subconsciously flips the screen across and opens Facebook... it's become automatic... my brain has rewired itself. Most of the time, there's nothing there of importance, so I can drift off back to sleep. However, I have had a few instances where I've left comments