Saturday Squeeze

Thought I might just squeeze in a little something before time to start the weekend dysfunction chore list.


1) Give the dogs a bath.  Worst pet related task.

IMG_4153filthy beasts

2) Give the husband a haircut.  (After paying good money for him to get assaulted by licensed professionals, I’m back on the job.)

3) Pick up dog doo in the backyard. I can delegate this.

4) Rake.  All the autumn leaves?  Never touched.  Not one time.  Not by anyone. They’re getting gross. Today is the day.

5) Wrangle children.  When there is work on, it’s like trying to give a cat a bath.  You can make them participate, but not without bloodshed.

That should about kill it for Saturday.  Before I explode onto the list; by myself because the guys have the March Madness Elusiveness Syndrome…I thought I’d flick a little randomness on you.


1) Instagram was worth the wait. A picture is worth 1000 words.  You know how I love 1000 words.  It forces me to look for the beauty in my life.

2) It’s time to start thinking about next year’s homeschool.  Which makes me panic about this year’s finish up.  Be glad you are not my child.  If you are having a bad day, you could always think, “My mom isn’t about to drop the hammer on me.”

3) Next year’s subjects.  Should be their senior year. A couple of moms at last night’s mandatory co-op meeting were trying to talk me into making the girls take a fifth year of high school.  Why?  I found myself walking away, shouting (Yes.  Shouting), “They need to GROW UP!!!”

4) Mickey fixed the dryer last Saturday.  I’d been trying to do the hanging up to dry thing for about three weeks.  It saves money, the environment, and something else.  Man alive, is it a lot of work.  I am so grateful for that dryer.


5) It seems young girls can survive on air and a crush.

6) It seems that little boys can survive on basketball and a lot of food.  When the grubby little dirt ball is not in front of the TV, he is outside with a sad, worn out basketball.  The good basketball won’t hold air, and the cheap one has a hernia where the valve is.  He has begun looking at my food before he finishes his own and asking if I think I’m gonna eat all that.

He’s 9.

7) If volleyball doesn’t start soon, Volleyball Girl is going to self-destruct and take the house down.  Every time there’s a volleyball reference, she glows.


8) We are not getting a puppy.  Or a kitty.  That is all.

9) It’s Spring and you know what that means…  That’s right.  It’s hair removal season.  There are five razors in the shower; three women live here. I’m pretty sure someone broke in the house and groomed a poodle in that shower last week.   I left the plumber a voicemail.

10) It’s Spring and you know what that means…  That’s right.  The sap is rising and something is blossoming.  Even it something is too fragile to be touched yet, it’s so heartwrenchingly gorgeous you could stand still in one place and just watch it grow all day.  Don’t miss it.

Crocus at UT Gardens

Crocus at UT Gardens


This is where it would be really cool if I had a blog thing with Benedryl.




They Weren’t Hypocrites When They Got Here

A common objection to the Gospel of Christ is:


I wish there were another word, because this one makes me thing of Cockroaches.  Don’t ask me why. It has since I was little.

I digress.

Cockroaches.  I mean, hypocrites.

Yes, the church is full of them.  Because, as with every place you go, your business there is not necessarily about your “business”.  Meaning, say, you are a hiker.  And your dry cleaner is a hiker. When you go into the dry cleaners, he knows you’re there to pick up your pants.  You do business for years without ever finding out that you have the interest in common.  Unless you see him on the trail. Because you aren’t there to discuss your hobbies, you are there to do business.

When you are in church, you are there to worship, God, fellowship with others, be equipped to live out your faith.

Not air your dirty laundry.

We are ordinary human beings, no more able to attain to our ideals, than to leap off the roof and fly.

When someone objects to consorting with people who are not living what they believe, they are rejecting the man in the mirror.

Who does Jesus love more?  The guy who never makes a mistake?  Or the guy who can own his @#$%?  The sinner?  Or the guy who thinks he isn’t one?

The Bible is conclusive.  Jesus came into the world to save sinners.  He died for our sins.  Not our excuses, not our rationalizations,or good reasons.  My children will put me in an early grave telling me the ‘good reasons’ they don’t need to do what I say, the way I say to freaking do it. How God must feel when we do the same to Him?

The church is called the Body of Christ.  The body, at least where I live, is sick.  It’s members are plagued.  Living lives of pain and degradation, while showing up every Sunday and making fashionable, interesting, competitive, Christian chatter.

We’re shaving, showing up, and shmiling.  Sitting the pew.  Dying on the inside.

I’m an oddball.  My business is usually out there.  I’m constitutionally unable to act fine when I’m crumbling. Dealing with stuff head on.    People don’t like that.

2013 sucked. I found out about a lot of hurting people.

A.  Lot.

Not just the messy public ones.

Lots of men.  Who are supposed to be initiators, protectors, leaders.

Lots of kids.  Who we’re supposed to be loving and teaching the way to go.

We didn’t start out as hypocrites, but somewhere along the line, we forgot Jesus, like Billy Joel, preferred the sinners for dinner companions.*

That the prodigal’s dad was waiting for him to come home.  To party.

That the prodigal guy was sick of his sin.  A real hypocrite isn’t.

At our house, we don’t act like it didn’t happen.  If I yelled at Mickey, I yelled.  If I threw a book, I threw it.  If they told me they hated me, I said, “I know, but we’re talking about chores, right now.”

I get the impression that isn’t what’s going on around the community.

Kids are feeling like it’s burdensome and uncool to do what Jesus did.  Act out of love for the Father and others.  All the time.

Hypocrite?  That’s God’s call.

Sinner.  Yeah.*

The fault line is under pressure.  The tremors are coming.

We are about to get shook.








Thirteen for ’13

I decided to limit my goals to 13.  I could list 100 and still not address all that needs overhauling in my life.  Little by little, I feel that I’ve let things get sloppy.  There is only one way to fix it.  Fix it.


1) Silence.  No computer.  No people.  No kidding.  I’ve always had a value for silence.  Maybe because I am an only child, I “got it” from a very early age.  I don’t know.  Whatever’s the case, I haven’t been alone systematically for months.

Looks like: setting an alarm, no matter what time I go to bed.

Start: now.

Finish: none.  Death is the ultimate meditative silence.

2) Move in my strengths.  I actually know a thing or two, and in one or two areas, I am an expert.  A couple of months ago, I had a bit of a wake up call when my brain screamed,”You haven’t accomplished [thing I want] because you have no self-confidence to try.

Looks like: *sigh* making a list of my strengths and deciding in what ways to use those resources to encourage others.

Start: today.

Finish: the list, Feb 1.

3) Rock the kitchen.  The fact is, I avoid cooking food and feeding people.  It’s unloving.  It’s irresponsible.  It’s wasteful.

Looks like:  Keeping enough food in the house for people to eat. I am bad for getting home without enough snacks.  This drives my children to eat all the chips, pretzels, carrots, celery, crackers, cheese, lunch meat, green beans. Then, when meal time comes, there is no li’l side or something.  Planning dinners but also, *sigh* lunches.

Start: Today.

Finish: I can shop today.  Menu planning needs a longer finish date.  The best idea I’ve heard is to create a number of menus and rotate them.  Gimme….two weeks.

4) Get a choke hold on the family finances.  Choke. Hold.  I hope that’s not too harsh of imagery for my more delicate blog guest.  I checked us out on Global Rich List.  I have no excuse.

Looks like: Giving systematically to God’s Work (not always strictly to the local church). Saving like a mad woman.  Possibly refinancing.  Executing a will. Aggressive debt re-payment. It might be a service like Manilla.  I don’t love being here, but I know I am not alone in the world and this is my blog and I’m collecting on the accountability, real or imagined.

Start: Today

Finish: I need to set individual times on each one.  So, today’s action is that.  By night fall tonight, I will have estimated finish dates on these.

5) Get serious about writing. I could post a “knock-knock” joke a day on the blog for the rest of my life.  I could continue to analyze my navel lint for the next five years.  Am I writing or not?  Am I any good or not?

Looks like: submitting something for publication to a legitimate source like a magazine or newspaper or a nice website.

Start: yesterday, I bought The Writer’s Digest, Writer’s Yearbook 2013*.   It has a number of websites for writers.

Finish: Submit something by the end of February.

6) Love my blog.  It seems that when the adoption was final I lost my niche. I still believe in my blog’s name.  What-We-Can’t-Explain is a part of God’s Perfect Design for our lives.  That’s the best description of my life so far.  The greatest things that ever happened were because of what looked like a slip on a banana peel or a cosmic clothesline.

Looks like: a design, a blogging calendar, guest posting, and monetizing.  Creating my own or using others daily blog checklists.

Start: Dec 28–The design is underway. January 3 or something. I’ve been invited to guest post I have to accept.  I’m shy, see.

Finish: The design stuff I have no control over…could be in a week or two.  I will accept on the guest post today.

7) Hold out for quality.  My children have developed a general expectation of life that’s mediocre. I commented to someone the other day that kids will appreciate quality if that’s what they’re exposed to.  It was like I slapped my own face.

Looks like: Resisting the “I can do that later.”

Start: When I Dress for work this morning.

Finish: When they are educated and have found a husband or wife.

8) School. I am burnt out, but I’m not giving up. At least, public school kids are impelled. This is my gig. Only the ISP headmaster gets to tell me what to do.

Looks like: Getting all my paperwork prepared so when it’s due, there is less stress.  Planning the rest of the curriculum until graduation.  Looking at college degree plans so I know what they need.

Start: today.

Finish: Feb 1.

9) Take better care of myself.  (See #1)  I am a big girl.  No one is going to take care of my body and mind and spirit.  End of discussion.  Sure, I’d like to call this one exercise and eat right, but there might be one or two things I need before that.

Looks like: List of needs.  Plan to execute.

Start: When I started writing this post.

Deadline: one week.

10) Make a house that I’m not ashamed to have in the background of my photos.

Looks like: Fill the space in the attic that I gained access to when I was in there.  Give away junk.  Throw away trash.  Plan for Renovation work.

Start: this isn’t rocket science.  Tomorrow’s Saturday.


11)  Stop waste in the house.  I think this is redundant, but, it is a mindset.  Instead of seeing my goals in terms of their worth in sacrifice, I get in the habit of medicating my feelings with a “pass”.  Well, $#!@’s out of hand.   Money, Time, Food, Utilities, Late Fees, Brain cells (we have watched some really stupid stuff).

Looks like: setting the example myself.  Shut up.  I hate my life.

Start: with shorter showers and not using the fixture with six bulbs unless I am putting on make-up.  List other areas and work on them.

Finish: When kids can run their own homes.

12)  The organization thing– create systems that make the obnoxious work easy.  Then USE THEM.  Even if it is a to-do list.  Making the list isn’t the objective.  It’s coming under the authority of the list that counts. Looks like: starting that list.

Start: in a minute.

Finish: when I no longer rely on a pile of paper to know what I need to do next.

13) Trust God– I’ve been mad at him over some things that happened really close together that we didn’t get a good outcome on.  But even before that, I was going on the feeling that He wasn’t really showing up for me.  I was having to do this all myself.  I know better.  I wouldn’t be even so much as alive without Him.  If He doesn’t have me now,  none of this really matters.

Looks like: Being joyful when I feel down and discouraged.  Not in a fake way, but acknowledging my feelings and listing what is still good or given in the midst.  There’s a blog challenge, but I think I might do it privately.

Start: ASAP

Finish: Every moment and start again.


*It’s a magazine… not Writer’s Market.  I couldn’t find a link.




Monday Morning

This is the extent to which I am even speaking to the blog.  I am taking it back to the basics of the invention.  A journal.  No one is reading, and I have lost my soul, as it were.  I wrote because I loved it.  I read because I loved finding out there were people who were thinking about the same things I do.

I got all confused with writing to please a reader.  So they would come back.  Then I thought  I’d monetize.  But before I got to that I thought I’d participate with sponsors.  I am not good.  I am bad at it.  I freeze.

I guest posted.  I guess I did that wrong,too.  I think I was supposed to bust it out on social media more than I did. I didn’t hear back from them.

At this point, it’s hard to remember why I’m blogging. My delight went somewhere.  The blog is going back to basics.


After a big weekend, we are “at the school table”.  Inexplicably, I have known the answer to the questions, today.  The questions are seldom content based, but rather, a distraction from getting down to business(Touchdown “*Bleep*ville Twist-offs!).

There is only one orthodontist appointment, this week.  Only three scheduled in the next month; including surgery.

One child has decided what she wants to study for life!!!  Victory!  The week before, she was planning to live off mom and dad until a pop star or Small British Olympian swept her off her feet.  (Hard to do when they’re propped up on the couch.)  She wants to be a foreign language translator and is planning to study French, Spanish, and Chinese.  Which is awesome.

Over the weekend, we still had peaches from our trip to the roadside stand and needed to use them before they spoiled.  We made a cobbler and some preserves.

Future foreign language interpreter peeling peaches.

Add sugar and pectin.

Let sit 12-18 hours.  Cook down.  Pour boiling mixture into prepared jars. Cook in hot water bath boiling 15 minutes.

Caution: the recipe said it yielded 7 half pints. Try 11 and a half.

Again, a lot easier than I would have thought.

We had more peaches even than that, so the sister, who didn’t work on the preserves because she was mowing the whole yard* by herself for the first time, showered and made a peach cobbler that we shared with our small group yesterday.  It didn’t get a photo.  Sorry, but it just would have made your mouth water.  So, it’s probably for the best.



* Mickey is in a boot, so someone was going to have to step up and she did.




Back Then Book Review Day

It took the girls longer than I thought it would to get a solid grasp of chronological terms.  Now, however, they have a very specific list of terms that refer to their perception of time past.  When I was a child?  Back Then.

Today, I am employing the sociopathological lawlessness I’m known for and abusing the term.

Today, ‘back then’ means when they were little(10) and we did a lot more read aloud than is strictly called for for educating big kids.

We checked out a Newbery Award winning book from the church library.

A Year Down Yonder, by Richard Peck was a fun read-aloud for 10 year-olds.


I laughed until tears streamed down my face and I had to blow my nose.

In the middle of the Great Depression, a young girl is sent from Chicago to live with her grandmother in a rural community.

Having come from small town people and having personally benefited from the influence of grandparents who lived through the Great Depression, I was reduced to uncontrollable laughter more than once.

Peck turns an elegant country phrase.  Sees through the eyes of a man his father’s age.  Or his mother’s.

One taste and we were hooked.  We ran through all the titles except one in the church library and moved on to the Public Library.  In the research for this post, I found a number of titles the public library had never heard of.  I’m excited to research those online and at the used bookstore.

Our favorites include:

A Long Way From Chicago

The Teacher’s Funeral: a Comedy In Three Parts

Fair Weather


A Season of Gifts

We tried an audio book, but agreed that I’m funnier.

It turns out that Peck is not limited to this gentle hilarity, but writes ghost stories and novels dealing with modern life issues young people face. Which we’ll be checking out this afternoon at the library and the used book store.

I urge you to include the titles we’ve enjoyed in your family read-aloud time, or even just your personal recreational reading.  It’s a refreshing break from the heaviness and the self-consciousness of a lot of contemporary adult fiction.

In researching this post, I ran across a Goodreads account I had pretty much ignored for…awhile.  If you aren’t familiar with Good Reads it’s like a giant online baseball card collection only with books.  I have updated a couple of things and would love to connect with you there if anyone’s interested.

While I was thinking of that, I remembered this blog has a Facebook fan page and I nearly gave myself a cardiac event trying to create the widget.  I will try again when I am not administering cultural lockdown on 15 year-olds (YES, IT STILL HURTS ME MORE THAN IT HURTS THEM.)  I beg invite you to “like” the page, if you aren’t going to let facebo*ks widget keep you from liking old ladies’ lame-a** blogs if you want to.

While we’re at it….  you can dig “the accident” on Twit*er. For free, mind you.

I digress.

There are still a couple of weeks of summer left.  That calls for some lazy afternoons.  That calls for a great book.  These are that.

I you’re embarrassed to check them out, say it’s for your niece.



Writer’s Workshop: Back In Time

1.) Recycle a favorite post from July of any year that you have been blogging.  This post is actually from the ‘now defunct’ adoption blog, with updates per the ones that are accomplished.

There are 100 things I’d like to do before I celebrate my 100th birthday.  Well, quite number more than that, and the fun stuff more than once.  But you know…I have to digress in some direction(the jury is still out on whether I need some meds for the ADD)  [In 2012,I have not one, but two doctors opinions.  It’s not ADD.  I’m just annoying]  .  Since encouraged to take a moment to contemplate the future’s starlit canvas ( what?), here is the list of things so I have it written down in a place I might be able to find it to mark things off.


  1.     Be debt free–all debt: credit cards,
  2.     Home
  3.     Auto. Did it, paid one off.  Bought a new one on Monday.
  4.     Save to pay for College,
  5.     Weddings
  6.      And retirement.
  7.      Be finished with this house, by renovation or evacuation.
  8.      Participate in the Neighborhood Christmas Tour of Historic Homes.  I volunteered, again.  Got my fill.
  9.     Find a vacation rental we can return to year after year…we are thinking Outer Banks.
  10.     Be well-read instead of just a reader.
  11.     Finish the story that lives on my shoulder and never skips a day of asking to be written.
  12.     Publish.
  13.     Become known for my hospitality (don’t think Martha, think iced tea in mason jars and laughing until 3 a.m; not moving from the dining room to the living room because it might break the spell).
  14.     Learn to like feta or some other objectionable trendy food.
  15.     Become a REALLY good cook.  Not a gourmet chef.  A Good Cook.
  16.     Own a little neighborhood coffee shop.
  17.      Enter the Pillsbury Bake-off.*
  18.     Figure out a way to share with others in a way that meets needs that are beyond shelter and food.
  19.     Get consistent with my nutrition and exercise.There are not really days off in life.
  20.     Lose 10 more pounds. Change this to twenty.
  21.      Be organized. Real life, finished singing the same old tune, once and for all.
  22.      Have a house that appears to have been decorated with any amount of deliberateness.
  23.      Have 15 minutes of fame for something pleasant.  Not for being a stupid idiot.
  24.      Be a good listener.
  25.      Visit the following: Grand Canyon.
  26.      Philadelphia
  27.      Washington D.C.
  28.      Alaska
  29.      Mount Rushmore
  30.      Kenya
  31.      Spontaneously jump into the car and take off for the beach.
  32.      Get an slr and learn how to use it*
  33.      Kick a bad habit– TV, caffeine, sugar.
  34.      Go geocaching*
  35.      Farm (you know, a garden and a goat and some hens)
  36.      Dress Fabulously
  37.      Have a “signature scent”.
  38.      School my kids to graduation. To the option to go to a really good college.  If they choose.
  39.      Get through this “teen” stage with my girls and move through to a fun healthy relationship.
  40.      Be the mom who has the fun ideas and executes them simply and economically.
  41.      Be the good grandma.
  42.      Have enormous great holiday celebrations.
  43.      Meet some of my favorite bloggers in person*  Met Shell, at Blissdom; sent by Jennifer.  Found a ton of new faves.
  44.      See some important relationships healed on both sides.
  45.      Invite my cousins, SILS, and nieces & nephews to come visit and have them come or want to come.
  46.      Get a cabin in the mountains for Christmas
  47.      Be the family with season passes for the good stuff (not the living history museum).
  48.      Have the courage and wit to stand up for the right so well that people are persuaded without being angry first.
  49.      Learn to scuba dive (from Lance who promised it to us for a wedding gift).
  50.      Learn to climb rocks.
  51.      Get proficient at some sort of textile related craft.*
  52.      Dance in the rain, again.
  53.      Take Mickey to see the Yankees.
  54.      Buy him a(nother) ’65 Mustang.
  55.      Be better at my job.
  56.      Hang out with the Fergusons, again.  Did it.  Last Mother’s Day…Already time to put it back on the list.
  57.      Win something big.
  58.      Own an RV.
  59.      And the big @#$ truck to pull it with.
  60.      See a miracle.
  61.      Visit Boston.
  62.      Know someone who eventually becomes REALLY famous.(Every Oklahoman who knew Mary Hart when she was on Dannysday.)
  63.      Help my kids search their heritage when the time comes.
  64.     Go snowskiing.
  65.     Spend Christmas in New England.
  66.     Do something that would make my aunts and cousins proud.
  67.     Raise beautiful flowers.
  68.     Keep a journal.
  69.     Have another transcendant friend.
  70.     Be really old and have people asking what the secret is and saying crazy stuff like eating bacon, smoking tiparillos, going without sunscreen, drinking a shot of cheap tequila every time I go #2.  Or whatever.
  71.     Build a home in the plan of either the 83rd street house or my Grandmother’s house.
  72.     Not skydive. So far so good.
  73.     Watch the sunset over a rocky shoreline, drinking wine, while my flat stomach peeks out the bottom of my camisole over the comfortable expensive jeans.
  74.     Visit all the amusement parks so my husband can ride all the roller coasters(I like a day at the park, but don’t particularly care for coasters.  Mickey and Diva E’s joy would be enough).
  75.    De-clutter my house.
  76.    Learn to speak Chinese
  77.    Stand-up at an Open Mic Night
  78.    Enter a Chili Cook-Off.
  79.    Win.
  80.    Love.
  81.    Help.
  82.    Sing.
  83.     Rejoice.
  84.     Be a cause for rejoicing.
  85.     Encourage others.
  86.     Teach my kids the same.
  87.     Teach my kids our family history and theirs.
  88.     Get the Thank Yous out in a timely fashion.
  89.     Get a niece from China. 
  90.     Move the washer and dryer downstairs to the right spot.
  91.     Have a collection of something interesting (-er than coffee mugs and cookbooks).
  92.     Have good hair and skin (please God, one time before I die).
  93.     Not end my 15 minutes of fame by being a stupid idiot.
  94.     Never EVER meet Tom Cruise (or Angelina Jolie or Kate Gosselin or Meredith Viera or Nicole Kidman).  Right on schedule.
  95.     Be prepared in case of an emergency.
  96.    Get a boy’s room ready with a cowboy theme.
  97.    Finish raising the funds for this adoption.
  98.    Pack well.
  99.    Fly to China.
  100.    BRING MY SON HOME!!!!

Now wouldn’t it be fun to pass your list to the person on your right and help make each others lists happen?


This is my first time to choose a Mama Kat prompt to write on.  It is a load of fun. [I try to link up often.  It’s still fun.]

I am linking this post to Mama Kat’s Writer’s Workshop, still.



*some of these need to give credit to Jennifer @ Momma Made It Look Easy.  These are the ones I might not have remembered if I hadn’t read her list.  Any other duplication is because we seem to look forward to some similar things.

Good Morning. Ish.

Good Morning.  I guess no matter where you are on earth… Monday morning is a beginning.  I suppose there may be a tribal people living on the top of a mountain in South America who begin their week on Thursday, but more than likely, they are not reading this.

Already digressing and it’s not even 8.

Technically, this is the second to the last week of the school year. Tennessee school year runs from July 1 to July 30.  We didn’t do it.  We failed.  And all three of us get to experience the consequences.  We are taking Algebra again.  Maybe Science.  Next year is going to be a Son of a Gun.  I am not apologizing to them.  They are supers.  We should have been done in March.  As it is.  They will be completing two Maths next year and possibly two Sciences.  HA.  With a 4.0.

I have been listening to Battle Hymn of the Tiger Mother on cd from the library.  Far from being awful to me,  I find her to be a mom with an inspirational life.  Mistakes? Obviously.  Wrong for expecting kids to achieve what they are able to?  No.  Humble?  Now, yes.  Telling anyone else what to do? No.

It’s a shame her 13 year-old wore her down.  Even the girls were in the back seat yelling, “She’s 13. Don’t listen to her!”  They should know.

I fully expect these same children to be writing fan letters to that little girl by Columbus Day.

As I alluded to in yesterday’s post.  Complacency or something worse has blinded me to the gradual wearing away of standards in school, behavior, appearance, speech, dress, home keeping, fiinancial management and spiritual life.  Little by little, I have said,”Why does it have to be done, “one way or the other”?” Until nothing is being done any way.  And I’ve tried to make everyone but myself responsible.

So with my head still pounding, I will call the doctor, then the director of the independent study program.

I can pay bills.  Yay. I don’t anticipate that this will get old anytime soon.  We have gotten through all the birthdays and celebrations and are now 9see above0 going on a very strict budget for the purpose of financial recovery. We are also going to  change banks.  After six years of struggle.  I have spared you the banking drama.  It has now become cost effective to move. And it’s consistent with our new financial attitude…

The local homeschool fest is this week.  I guess I am going. Meh.  I need a few things. I have to squeeze it in Friday, before…

I am hoping to drive over to Nashville this weekend to meet with friends.  I guess.  I am so homesick and it won’t be enough.  I know what will happen.  We will be so hungry and thirsty for fellowship when we leave.  We’ll dream about moving [again] for weeks afterward.

Good Monday Morning to you.  Where ever you are.  Enjoy you fresh new week.  What are you going to do with it?



I Prefer to Think of It as Applied Psychology.

Pass the Zantec and the Xanax.  It is not getting through to them, that I am unable to go with them every place they go.  I am unable to stamp the foreheads of the people they will meet with “safe” or “toxic”.  I can’t use their common sense for them.  I am more than willing to clarify whatever their conscience alludes to…


Modern Psychology would have me think that my teens cannot make moral judgements.  Neurologically, they are changing so fast that blah, blah, blah.

If this were true, and it is  not, how do you explain people who just simply never ever get into these situations.

I didn’t.

It seems that the pattern is that my children make extraordinarily dumb moves and somehow, some way, there is always another child nearby who is responsible but not them.



Last night, I will admit.  I yelled.  I wasn’t going to yell.  I was going to keep my own counsel and let these little operators reap what they sowed.  But one said, “What’s wrong with you?”  Not to be left out of the impending nuclear holocaust, her sister followed with, “What are you mad about?”

I told them I wasn’t going to talk about it.

They are still pretty young, America.  It did not occur to them to think, “Good for me.”  Instead, they seem to have thought, “We need to help mom realize she has no reason to be mad. After all, we are perfect as far as she knows, that should make her life nirvana.”

A comment slipped out.

The perceptive one who usually gets when to keep a low profile, blurted out, “Oh the [Friend’s Name] thing.”

As distinct from what other things I don’t know about yet?

“I apologized.”


Well, at this point her sister had some other minimizing comment and I saw red.

Suffice to say, I lost my voice last night.

Ugly as hell sin.

While I yelled, I made the Monday evening spaghetti sauce that I am way too proud of.  I got down in startled faces, and ran back into the kitchen to arrange pepperoni on top of the simmering skillet and topped the whole mess with shredded mozzerella and a domed lid.  I made garlic toast on bakery sandwich rolls. (And Type A got it, that even though I am chewing your ass rear right on off, I love you and want to bless you.  Ya little beast.)

While my daughters tried to finneagle a reason that the problem is mine.  Not theirs.

The.  Hell.  It.  Is.

They are big enough and “neurologically able” to know when they are taking the side of wrong.  They chose the mean girl over the nice girl, watched the mean girl twist the knife, and hoped to get to the grave without me finding out.

What they have is misplaced fear.  We all fear something.  The Bible says the fear of God is the beginning of wisdom.  In this case, they preferred to fear the small bitch with the big mouth.  Rather than God, me, or that this little girl WOULD hurt them the way she hurt their friend.

I have been checking around with moms, and uniformly, they admit they were afraid of the repercussions if their parent should find out they had misbehaved at school.  We were afraid of the principal of the school, our parents and God.  In that order.  As far as my peers were concerned, I took an “every man for himself” approach.

After deep analysis, one of the girls came to the point of getting what the problem was.  Maybe.

One of the girls slipped out the house and went to “Bible Study”.  She came home with tales of cute boys and greetings from their old buddy Nate.  She is currently giving me the “perky good student” massage. She is living on borrowed time.

I, on the other hand, talked to a mom this morning who told me she has seen so much growth in my girls since school started.  Puh.  Yeah.  Because we are going to the mat every several days on NO-THE-CRAP-YOU-AREN’T-GOING-TO-BEHAVE-LIKE-THIS-IS-A-REAL-LIFE-PRODUCATION-OF-LORD-OF-THE-FRACKING-FLIES!!!!  They are maturing because they have no choice.

I had been silently, well, and in one case openly, freaking out a little that the “drama with boys” was taking up so much of my thought life.  These boys are going to go off to college and see thrifty-whillion gals and forget there was ever any such thing as the Type A and Her Sister.  And I am old.

*cold chill*

How I would like to return to the halcyon days of last week.  Where all I had on my mind was keeping Joe Friday away from my daughters for another 21 months.*

Today, we are down to the real life business of growing up and choosing yourself over the evil business of allowing a mean bitch girl to hurt others.  And themselves.  They haven’t told me what was in it for them.  Every time they are together (I find out now), she says nasty things about adoption and me and *wonders* if the girls want to search for their birth parents.

The Divas are required stay away from her and don’t give me the excuse that she came over to them.

I think it is pretty clear, at this point, but I thought that when we covered texting boys with my phone.  And I also thought it was clear when I covered texting boys with other people’s phones, writing what that person tells you until the number gets blocked and then she says it was you.  That what they need to see before their eyes when they need to make a decision is not WWJD?  But WHWMFO?  What Happens When Mama Finds Out?

Embarrassment?  You should have thought of that before you took your stand on the side of wrong.

I prefer to think of it as applied psychology.

 *Til he goes off to college. Rumor is he’s playing Type A per the warnings. He sang “Baby” to her Friday.  She said, “{Name}stop it.  I hate Justin Bieber.”  I can’t believe how perfectly she played it.  Senior girl said that everyone else has giggled and batted their eyes. (And he has sung it to everyone else) Shame he’s an amateur ‘playa’ and will ‘play’ hell heck getting anywhere near my daughter next semester. He wouldn’t make eye contact with Mickey at the concert.  He’s still bitching. Oh, God.  Totally another post.

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