on occasion, i just want to throw him back. then i remember just how much i love him.
It’s a damned good thing this child is so cute!!!!!
This one will bring tears to your eyes! i see music as the saving grace for our nations of the world.
just … imagine…music…teaching…cooperation
Bobby McFerrin walks into a UN meeting and leads them in this demonstration of togetherness and cooperation. no need for interpreters, armed guards, lobbyists, nuclear weapons…..
just hearts and sound. music from within.
why is this so hard to imagine?
now listen to it again from the beginning with your eyes closed and see this happen. if we all do this…
Goddess is in a quandary and truly needs to find her way out FAST!!!!
The Do i really need to be filthy rich with money?
is it necessary that i find a way to be comfortable rather than a person who wipes their ass with 50’s?
i have had this sinking feeling over the past few weeks that i am going to be “not rich” for the rest of my life. it’s actually depressing to sit and think about all the great things you have to offer then realize that you may have to take a vow of poverty to achieve that success.
i want to give back to my community, to my family, to people i love.
i don’t want to do it while having to collect cans and bottles to eat.
i am running into a shortfall for income and i now have to look into going back into the corporate world. i know that i will be so horribly miserable if i go back. i won’t last long. i need to feel that the services i offer are worth enough that those willing to partake in them are willing to come out of pocket just a little bit.
i just don’t feel in my heart that people nowadays understand what is truly important.
here is a list
offer finishing school for children. children are so rude and nasty today. there is a definite need to correct the behaviors of the future of our world
open a daycare. daycare really translates into “i’ll watch your kid, you pay me barely nothing and i get to take your shit and worry about whether you are going to close me down because you THINK i have the POTENTIAL for abuse or neglect because you are having trouble pulling the plank out of your own eye”
i am growing sad and even more sad as the day passes.
something has to change. my negativity is growing and quite frankly, i may just need a desk job to keep my head afloat while i continue to dream about helping people that really don’t give a shit about what they actually could benefit from.
because you know help is ALWAYS free. handouts are ALWAYS the job of someone else. and what’s yours is ALWAYS mine. didn’t they teach you that in finishing school.
whoever decided that it takes a village to raise a child must have been out of their damned mind when they coined that phrase. granted, it is a phenomenal phrase to use when you are trying to convince a new parent to ask for help from family and friends before they toss their baby out into the swirling currents of the local river in a torrential downpour.
a can of whup ass can be defined many ways. depending on the culture you participate in, it can be a pat on a diaper with a hand when the baby repeatedly pulls the dogs ear or picks the cat up by the throat, to a parent out of their mind with fury, love, and a passionate need to correct offspring so they don’t lose their job at the other end of a section of water hose and a visit from CPS!
yes. it is a broad category of love,structure, and consequences.
is there a way to have a serious discussion with regard to how children should be raised as opposed to how the textbooks tell us they should be raised?
i believe there is a middle ground that allows for “spoil the rod, spoil the child” without warranting a call to CPS.
it is perfectly okay for parents to determine the environment in which their children will be raised. the parents create the environment, set up the rules and expectations of the CULTURE are what are exhibited by the children.
the difficulty is managing your household and family culture against what society has deemed “acceptable”.
i dare the village that used the can of whup ass principle to raise children to define “acceptable”.
here is my account of interviews that occurred within a fictional village that i visited on my way to Vacaville State Hospital.
Goddess: how do you utilize a can of whup ass?
Bettina Mae: A Can of Whup Ass is best utilized to light up a child when necessary.
Oscarlisha Jean: heh heh! you said that right girl! snatchin’ up a child ain’t no sin. when you want it quiet, you just say you gon’ open up a Can of Whup Ass and they snap right to attention.
Bettina Mae: now don’t get us wrong Missus Science Lady, we don’t beat our children and leave them in misery. we beat them with love and we make sure they know what a real beatin’ is. they don’t go to the school tellin’ folk they go a beatin’ on tuesday on GP (general principal). they tell the folks that they “got in trouble”.
Oscarlisha Jean: mmmm hmmmm. you said that right girl. our children don’t run and hide from us. we ain’t messin’ wit they minds! we correctin’ they SOULS.
Bobbie Smooth: preach on OJ! if yo child ain’t right with the Lord then you ain’t done yo job right.
Goddess: so if you were taken into court and charged with child abuse, what would be your defense?
Bettina Mae: I’d tell ’em that if they think they can do a bettah job, they can take ’em and raise them theyselfs
Bobbie Smooth: *slaps knee with hand* hoooweee! my baby momma did just that and you know what that judge said?
Oscarlisha Jean: who dat?
Bobbie Smooth: that judge shook his head and said “take yo kids home and make sure they know the right story to tell next time someone wants to go snoopin’ in bidness they ain’t got no bidness in!”
Bettina Mae: Missus Science Lady, the fish fry is about done and it is time to stir the grits, can you come on back round later and we will let you know mo later.
so goes the rest of the saga. i let Milo out from the abusive blathering of his father to walk him out of the house. i snooped around the corner at the cat tower because i wanted to hear what he had to say.
the conversation pretty much goes like this:
Dad: what you did waswrong Milo and i am not happy with the way you have been acting lately
Dad: i have always treated you like a friend and i am not not going to be able to do it that way. like i said before i am going to have to come down harder on you and i don’t want to do that
Dad: do you want me to give you what i gave you today? (backhanded slap)
Dad: okay so just remember… what you did today has tarnished our relationship and i don’t think it will ever go back to the way it was. i love you and even though you are my biological son, i have begun to love you less and am sure how much longer i can be a part of your life if you continue to do what you are doing.
his dad walked away without giving Milo a hug or telling him he loved the boy. what he did say was
“Stop fucking up!” as he walked to his car.
some days i really want to just find a dark hole to put that man in forever. i don’t get how he thinks that the actions of a 9 year old boy is going to end a relationship that sucks anyway. you are supposed to love your children unconditionally regardless of the facg tht ehy mess up. there is a reason why we as parents spend our time and precious energy teaching our children right from wrong and sacrificing for better outcomes for our children.
i am confused as to why he would even think to elevate the child to the level of an equal with him and then drop bombs on him.
dad needs a sedative and my son needs a father.
I am taking an adaptive Physical Education class and I am having a blast in it. The class is an introduction to the instruction of PE to children s with disabilities. As a part of the class, we are required to do service hours with a few projects around town. I chose project Play. We have many children who are brought together from the area with mild to moderate disabilities. Children in this program can be working with Autism, Down’s syndrome, Intellectual Disabilities and some physical disabilities.
Tonight was my first night and I was assigned Jacob*. He came with his grandmother Verne*. He is staying with Verne while his mom is on active duty in the military. Jacob has high functioning Autism. He is bright as everything and so willing to direct and make sure everything is done to his liking.
I filled out an info card with Verne and then went to play (he would not come to meet me so I had to go out and initiate contact). Jacob has some issues with socialization and behavior. He is an only child so it is complicated by the fact that he is not the most social child and already is the center of his universe by his circumstance.
We played. I mean we PLAYED. He wasn’t sure how to start so he ran from corner to corner trying to find things to do. We played with some bouncy balls and then I could see his mind switch on. He got a jump rope and proceeded to turn a basketball hoop into a trap for bouncy balls. It was interesting to see that many people around him seemed to think that he was having trouble doing what he liked. He would take a large ball and put it in a tube so that it would block the exit. He would then stuff as many balls as he wanted into it to make an avalanche. I watched and watched and watched him. I wanted to see how he was doing. He was having a ball until an adult came by to “help” him. She took the ball out and I could see his fists clench and his face turn down and his elbows go out. He was ready for a fight.
Let’s just say that distraction is a wonderful thing and works even better when you are in a gym filled with toys. We found something else to do and he ran me for the entire 90 minutes I was there. He wanted to collect balls and it took me a minute to recognize that he only wanted one kind of ball. BLUE! I could not figure out why he was ignoring so many other balls. THAT was exhausting and I had a fear that we were going to be going around all night looking for every blue ball so I helped him along by making it a hunt. We found all of the balls.
Jacob is working on sharing and his socialization skills. So I worked on him asking for things from some of the other kids. He would have me start then he would finish. It took a while to go to the other kid who loved to collect balls. He crept up to the side of the play structure the other child was in and tried to start the conversation, when up popped the other child offering him a ball. You should have seen his eyes light up!
At the same time, another group of kids had gotten a hold of the balls that he had so diligently collected and began to spread them through the gym. I hopped into distraction mode and let him know that we needed to go look for something else blue. That came in the form of the roller turtle. You know those little things we used to have races with at the roller rinks when we were kids? I chased and chased and chased and yeah. I’m still tired.
My ass was exhausted. I had to sit down so I asked him to count the balls with me. He was more than willing to watch me count but didn’t want to help. Oh well, this is called Project Play. So I counted (and RESTED) and he watched.
Jacob has high functioning Autism. Most people would look at him now and think he was a kid with only behavior problems if they did not know his history. His mother knew something was not going right with her son’s development and she took it upon herself to make sure that services were in place. She did a fabulous job because he is functioning at a level that will make things more manageable as time goes on. For him and for his teachers and peers.
I have to admit it, I am the kind of person who will fall in love with a child at first sight or make up my mind that I don’t want to work with them as well. He is a challenge, but I am enjoying my time. When it was time to go, he switched to “NO” mode. That was a little difficult to deal with but he recognized that I was not going to tolerate that for long. He was running and playing and scooting around on the turtle and was not ready to go. I reminded him of all the things I did for him and let him know that I have a little boy that I have to get home to and take care of.
We got him to put up the toys and headed out the door and we waked to the car. I chatted with Verne on the way out and started to walk to my car.
Jacob grabbed my arm and took me back to Verne’s car, opened the car door and motioned for me to come with them. I let him know that I was sorry I could not go but that I would see him next time and into the car he went.
I am going to love this physically exhausting opportunity. I was not sure if I could offer any more love to a child and there I was handing out more.
I get to have my life back. I wonder what kind of life i had that made me want to give it up so easily.
Foster parenting. I have had the very best/worst (depends on who you are) initiation a person could ever have into foster parenting. I think that the most important thing in foster care is the parents. if you take the time and energy to make sure that your parents are prepared and ready to encounter the children who come through their homes, the children will be headed into a far better situation.
in my situation with my first foster child, what i got was a hazing like i pledged a college sorority. i didn’t want to have a rough time with a child. i didn’t want to resent the fact that i was attempting to parent a child in a way that was more than foreign to me and not working to boot. there is a lot of psychological child raising that is not working with the human element.
I know you can praise your dogs and they will do good for you. when you work with children, you begin to notice that you ain’t nothin’ but a hound dog when it comes to your ability to train a child but someone out there writing these books may want to consider having some children of their own before telling those of us who do how to raise them.
they have personalities. they have opinions. worst of all, they have rights.
more rights than you; an over the age of 18, 21, able to drink, vote and get shot in a war have.
when did they decide that children needed more rights than adults? when people who abused their children got careless. i am sure for many generations it was okay to “spare the rod or spoil the child”. this worked when you had children who did not go to school because of the harvest and a solid beating was enough to keep them doing their work so that the family wouldn’t starve or freeze over the winter.
industrialized civilization had to find a place to put all the crumb-snatchers while the parents were out working in the cities in factories during the war effort and beating out a meager existence when Wall Street crashed.
what happened is that children became known as the less capable of humans.
those less capable of caring for themselves had to be protected from those whose place it was to care for them.
systems put in place led us to where we are now.
there is such a thing as a poor education. i have seen it in a few instances in my life.
a parent sometimes thinks that they are doing the right thing by their children by putting them in schools that push academics.
there is so much more than academics. there is the heart of a child. i see no reason whatsoever for my child to be in a school where they rank academics and numbers over your child.
I’m sorry but to have your child in a school where a majority of the teachers don’t even have children of their own is a problem.
My son goes to a school where academics are paramount but the teachers have it stuck in their minds that the children can recognize, and modify behavior on their own.
my son was in the office when i got there today.
he pulled a yellow for staring off into space
he pulled a blue for talking in line
he pulled an orange for talking in the library
he pulled a red for talking in line again
and he pulled a black for playing with his pants during reading time.
the black got him sent to detention in the office. not to the principal where they could have a discussion about the actions that got them there in the first place.
the teacher does nothing but tell the child they are going to pull a card. granted, the child does know why they are pulling the card after the fact.
the child is not building upon any lessons given to them from the teacher.
my son is listening and does not need to see the teacher to learning.
teachers want children rapt with excited anticipation at the next word that will come out of their minds.
how do you teach a blind student who can’t see you?
how do you teach a Deaf student who can’t hear you?
you don’t send them to the office if they are getting the lesson and not causing a distraction.
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i am so glad i knew when to run. for my child’s sake and for mine.
I have had to come up with a truly defined reason as to why i am going to have to let DD go.
he is a very caring giving child. hell, he is 9 and he still carries around his teddy bear in the house and to sleepovers. the issue that we have in my home is that DD is so very reactive that she has become a very shiny object for my son to hunt down and bat around every time she comes around.
it has caused so much grief and upheaval in the home. it is fine time that he learn to be quiet. but because of all of her absolutely insane behavior, he has taken a stance that she either doesn’t matter to anyone so he can just take after her or that she obviously wants the attention so why not?
i am convinced that her incorrigible behavior is contagious. she has taken my little chocolate mild-mannered Clark Kent and turned him into the freakin’ Goblin.
he zooms in and out of her world tormenting her like seagulls at the end of a potato chip festival. you get my drift?
swooping and diving and not too careful about who they crash into. just so they can get the loot.
i know that we might have been the Alamo for DD.
i pray to God that i am wrong
I have decided to go back to blogging. I have started a new chapter in my life. One that includes managing the lives of those whose lives have either been poorly managed or whose lives have never been managed well by the adults entrusted to their well-being.
It seemed pretty easy when I signed up with the agency. I was gung-ho. I had worked through it with my then 8-year-old and he was on board. All we had to do was wait…
And wait we did. No calls. No letters. No updates. If anything, we had false starts and failed communication. This was no one’s fault though. This is how it goes when you have multiple agencies trying to place a child as quickly as possible.
Then came the call and the request.
“You can meet her Gracie at the Christmas party.”
I asked how old this child was and they said 14.
I raised my niece from 15 to 19. This couldn’t be that hard.
I met the girl at the party and she seemed nice enough. I met the family that she lived with and it seemed okay.
I let them know that she could come stay with me…….
Little did I know what I was getting myself into.
This new blog series entitled “My daughter in a haze” is about my foster daughter. She is enchanting, very clever, loves to tell stories and is remarkably angry.
I discovered these things along the way during her stay with my son and I.
It has opened my eyes to a world I knew about but had never participated in as a parent.
My life is forever changed.
I have yet to check my feelings on this one.