from PokemonGo to the Holocaust to living in tents

When it comes to raising our children, we all have goals along with our wishes and hopes and dreams for our children. Mine is very much influenced by my upbringing and past, as well as current relationships with some family members.

To my family who follows my blog, yes, this part might be about you…then again, you might be wrong in assuming so.

As a mother, one of the biggest things I wanted to nurture in my five was to think for themselves…forge their own opinions…express those thoughts and opinions. I wanted them all to know that their thoughts are their own and are definitely okay, in fact, they are perfect because they are theirs. I also wanted them to understand that they are well within their right as a thinking person to express what they are thinking…even if it disagreed with someone else’s…even if it was Mom or Dad’s. Especially if they disagreed with Mom or Dad. Of course there was the proviso that they must be respectful and kind because it’s Mom or Dad, or their friends, or their teachers, or any other thinking human being because I was also trying to instill in them the importance of, well, The Golden Rule. Be kind. Be respectful. Anyone who truly knows me would likely understand why this was important for me to have for my children. Yes, yes, yes, this has made my parenting adventure rather challenging because my five are fierce and very much strong-willed; kind of like their Mom and Dad.

Yes, Hollie, we were cursed as children too.

But, in spite of the years of challenges, I like that my five are fierce and I like that they can think for themselves and can and do, almost all the time, express their thoughts and their opinions.

In the news recently was the request for people to stop playing PokemonGo in The Holocaust Museum. “Playing the game is not appropriate in the museum, which is a memorial to the victims of Nazism,” Andrew Hollinger, the museum’s communications director, told The Post. “We are trying to find out if we can get the museum excluded from the game.”

What’s The Holocaust, Mom?

And so began a conversation with my 14 year old about what The Holocaust is and what happened to more than 6 million people just because of their religion or ethnicity or sexual orientation at that time and he interrupts me drawing a comparison to a certain candidate. His thoughts. His thoughts based on what he sees and hears and reads all around him. His thoughts expressed. I shared his thoughts (no names mentioned) with friends and family on Facebook just like that because, wow, that. My son’s thoughts. Thus began commentary and conversation, as we often do on Facebook and other social media platforms; which, in my opinion, is more than okay. Agree, disagree, more than okay. Just be kind…on my personal space because we absolutely, positively can agree to disagree on pretty much anything as long as we are at the very least respectful. Don’t believe me? Ask my darling husband. Well, except that he believes Pepsi to be a superior soft drink over Coke. Oh my darling husband!

Take note here, don’t blast my Facebook wall telling me Coke is not better because it is. Okay, fine, you can. Just be kind. I might not agree with you but that doesn’t mean that I have been decieved or tooled by the media because, I promise you, I am absolutely smarter than that…so are my Fierce Five. We don’t have to agree. We both can look at one another’s opinions on just about anything and think to ourself, what the actual fuck?…I do it literally ALL THE TIME looking at some postings of some family and friends on Facebook and then I move on because BABIES! KITTENS! AMAZING VACATION PHOTOS! FUNNY VIDEOS! And I move on because we don’t HAVE to feel the same way about current events or who we believe will make America great again. And yes, this is a beautiful thing for me and for the beauty of America where we can still think freely!...Isn’t that ironic?

in the neighborhood and beyond

Doesn’t it seem like just last week we were shocked, sad, mad and talking about another horrible act of foreign or domestic terror? Oh yeah. We were just talking about such an abominable thing.

Yes, all the big heavy sighs now; and again with all the hashtags of #prayforFrance, #prayforNice, #BlueLivesMatter, #BlackLivesMatter, #AllLivesMatter along with our thoughts and prayers. Helpless we feel and for most of us this is all we feel like we can do. Well, except for discussing it all on social media.

Thanks to local farmer, comedian, writer, self-proclaimed 40-year old entitled boob, Chris Teicheira, I signed on to a local neighborhood watch page on Facebook…for keeping Manteca safe…and for the lookie-loo, popcorn snacking entertainment. Uh, thanks, Chris? Actually there is some good that comes from this group on occasion…when there isn’t bitching and moaning about the right to or not to shoot off all the illegal fireworks all the time, or all problems in Manteca are because of the homeless, and the entitled boobery, as Chris so aptly described. Under the guise of social media anonymity, which is not anonymous at all y’all, a lot of neighbors in my Family City are basically looking like entitled boobs.

Another heavy sigh.

In the wake of so much going on in the news, a local resident felt lead to initiate a peaceful call to action; which was well within her right under the First Amendment of our Constitution. She planned all in the right way and it reportedly went off without a hitch. Of course the discussion last night and throughout today on the Family City neighborhood watch page focused much on the Black Lives Matter peaceful march throughout our city. So much ugly discussion y’all. I see you. I see you all.

Perhaps after the deaths of police officers in Baton Rouge yesterday during yet another act of terror at the hand of yet another lone, angry asshole, it might not have been the right time for such a peaceful protest. Then again, when would be the right time, really? From my armchair overnight at work, it seemed that it was a peaceful assembly focused on the BLM movement but also very sensitive to the murders of police officers just doing their job protecting and serving their community. It was a respectful gathering of more than 50 people of all colors and ethnicities making a quiet statement.

I see nothing wrong here.

Well, except for this reality.

Another day…

We all need to do better. We all need to be kinder. We all need to be all of this to all.

We don’t need inflammatory rhetoric. We don’t need careless accusations thrown around to score political points or to advance an agenda…Only we can prove, through words and through deeds, that we will not be divided, and we’re going to have to keep on doing it again and again and again. That’s how this country gets united…Around the clock news cycles and social media sometimes amplify these divisions, That is why it is so important that everyone: regardless of race or political party or profession, regardless of what organizations you’re a part of, everyone right now focus on words and actions that can unite this country rather than divide it further.

Barack Obama

Cleveland, Philadelphia, Manteca, America, the World…respect, kindness for all…please.

in Dan’s real life

This week in Daniel’s (don’t call me Dan) real life, he discovers “the BEST movie trilogy ever, Mom.” Back to the Future. His personal irritation aside that October 21, 2015 brought some disappointing inaccuracies…C’mon, Mom! Hover boards. They don’t hover.” …Daniel is loving watching and re-watching the Back to the Future trilogy. Next up might possibly be this little film called Beetlejuice. Oh, and he really, really wants a DeLorean when he is old enough to drive. That can’t be too difficult what with only 6,000 remaining.

Oh Daniel!

This week in Daniel’s life, he made it crystal clear that the only one who loves his long, curly hair is his mother…oh, and his stylist, Raquel, who really did not want to cut it all off. But like any excellent stylist, her goal is to make her people sitting in her chair happy.

This makes Daniel very happy. Handsome too. Just in time for his very first Tae Kwon Do tournament.

So nervous was he. But in the end he did well.

Current status in real life: relieved and pleased.

In other news, it will be back to school to EIGHTH GRADE in THREE AND A HALF WEEKS!!! 

 

motherhood changes you.

No kidding, says every mother ever. I could state the obvious changes…your body, your sleep, your privacy. Instead let me share with you one way that motherhood changes you that one never really considers before motherhood.

It’s the middle of the night and you are startled by a blood curdling scream. You’re not asleep yet, of course; still you’re not expecting to hear screaming in the middle of the night. Your 22 year old, 20 year old and 14 year old children are thankfully beyond the middle of the night crying and screaming phase in their lives…at least you thought so…until you heard screaming coming from your daughter’s room. And while your darling husband softly snores in his slumber because of course he doesn’t hear your child screaming in the night, you quickly get up to see what is the matter.

There she is, your darling daughter in the kitchen pointing in the direction of her bedroom.

Oh my god! A giant bug jumped out at me!

You might have rolled your eyes. Still, you’re mom, so you step into her bedroom and…

OH MY GOD!!!

Literally.

On her nightstand was a giant bug, slightly bigger than my thumbnail. Don’t ask me what kind of bug. It was BIG and had lots of legs and antennae and brown and BIG. OMG, it was big. I was not about to get any closer to investigate.

Can you get rid of it, Mom? Please.

Standing outside her bedroom she pleads with me.

Rolling my eyes again, thinking to myself, Are you kidding me??!!

But I am a mom and my darling husband continues to snuffle deep in his slumber. Neither Abby or I will be getting any sleep as long as that giant bug is in her room. But how because grabbing it with a tissue is not going to work.

It might touch me!

Mom that I am, I deal with it.

And there the bug remained until my darling husband came home from work at the end of the day because rescue my daughter from the scary, big, ugly bug I will do but I wasn’t about to get any closer. In the light of day, Bill could dispose of that bug…far, far, far away from The Big Top.

 

 

grandgirl treats

When your 4 year old grand daughter invites you to sit down you do. You talk about art and unicorns and the fact that she is soon going to school and also that her headband game is super strong today.

Fierce even.

She looks up to agree with you, as 4 year old grand daughters do, and notices your hands…your nails.

Mima, I need to paint your nails.

So you agree.

It’s absolutely true that I could not possibly do a better job than Fallon.

Have I shared with y’all lately how magical grand daughters are?

I’m still not sure how I feel about the fact that they are growing up much too fast.