There’s a reason why you should never take candy from a stranger…..

Because if you do, you might end up being the butt of a joke on Jimmy Kimmel.  He has parents film their kids while telling them they ate all of their Halloween candy and putting it on YouTube.  Some of the reactions are funny.  Most of them appall me.  If my kid screamed and cried and threw a huge tantrum and threw things at me and said he hated me, that would be the last piece of candy they would have for a while!  And what a way to humiliate/damage your child.  Take him out trick or treating, and then take it away.  What kind of lesson is that for a child?


So both parties are acting badly.  The parent for starting it, and the child for reacting poorly.  It’s all about me me me for the kid, who doesn’t understand how to act when he doesn’t get his way.  The way they talk to their parents disgusts me.  They show no respect.  Granted, the parent is doing a mean thing.  But sometimes parents have to do “mean things” for the welfare of the child.  Should the child react with a temper tantrum and hatred?  Is that what you have taught him?  Then you need to go back to school.

And is it really “mean”?  What about funny?  Is it funny to tease your child?  I think it could be, if your child knows you would really never do him any real harm.  I mean, it IS candy, which most parents don’t like their child to have anyway.  So if a parent took away the candy, should the child understand?  Should they throw a tantrum?

I think maybe a little tantrum would be in order, depending upon the age of the child.  After all, as one kid pointed out, he worked HARD for that candy.  It is HIS.  And on that point, I agree!

What I don’t agree with is a kid telling his parents he HATES them and having a total hissy fit.  That is NOT ok with me.  It’s not ok to do that.  But if kids do it all the time, and the parents don’t correct the behavior, it will continue.

Parents are responsible for molding their children into good people.  People who can take the good AND the bad, and act appropriately.  Children that don’t know how to act will not be successful in controlling their emotions throughout their lives.

I used to think my mom and dad were mean.  My mom used to say all time that “children should be seen and not heard”.  Boy, she should see what today’s children are like!  They run the family.  The parents are at their beck and call.  There are so many times that I am in a situation that I feel should be only adults, but the children are there, hanging on their parents, interrupting all the time, and hearing things and language that aren’t meant for them.  Now that I am an adult, I am glad my mom and dad were mean.  They were actually raising me to know my place, and give respect to my elders, not sass them and run the show.

So, when I see the YouTube videos of children behaving badly, I really do blame the parents.  And I am SO grateful that I am not a school teacher, as I had originally planned!  Imagine having to deal with that all day long, and not be able to do a damn thing about it!



Ex-husbands and step children


Hot topic for sure.  It certainly is for me.  I was a wife and step mother for almost 10 years.  It was NOT a good time, in many ways, for all concerned.

I suppose I didn’t think things through enough before I married him.  I knew he came with “baggage”, and I’m not talking about his kids.  Kids should not be thought of as baggage.

The baggage he came with was inside of him.  A thirst for drink.  Some days he just could not get enough.  It was like a poison, a toxin.  I seriously think he is one of those people who should not drink, because he would get alcohol poisoning.  He would drink until he fell down, then get up and DRIVE home, verbally and physically abuse me, and then pass out in bed for 2-3 days.  Most times he did this on a week night, and therefore would not call in to work.  I learned to lie to his boss, and give him excuses.  I think he knew.

I’m not sure how his first wife handled all this, because he blamed her for a lot of his problems.  She certainly came with a few of her own, including her own alcoholism and drug addiction.  Quite bluntly, she was a coke whore.  She would do anything for coke.  Destroyed her marriage.  Was a HUGE part of destroying my marriage.  And destroying her kids, in the only ways that mattered.  Like teaching them how to grow up with strong morals and values.

And me?  I helped destroy them too.  I gave up after a while.  Their father would get drunk, purposely I think, on the nights before they would come for the weekend, leaving me to do all the work of taking care of 3 small children, who were bounced around to babysitters all week by their mom, and then sent to an unhappy household every other weekend.

I was so hopeful at first.  Like I said, I don’t think I thought things through enough before rushing into marriage.  I loved him, that should be enough.  But it wasn’t.  I did not know the evilness that was out there, waiting for me.  How it could turn my soul into a deep, dark black hole, that I barely made it out of.  Turns out that I wasn’t as strong as I thought I was.  The years of dysfunction wore me down, until I was just as bad a parent as they were.

I was raised to be polite, be seen and not heard, clean, be a good student, and most of respect my elders.  These 3 children were raised with nothing resembling that.  I was shocked and appalled by the things they had seen and heard, and therefore mimicked.  They were troubled before I even came into the picture.  I really did try at first.  They were cute kids, and they did love their daddy.  I wish he had been strong enough to give them what they needed, when they needed it the most.

I suppose he blames me for that.  And I will indeed take partial responsibility.  I should have walked away when things got bad.  Instead I kept thinking it would get better, since it couldn’t get any worse.  In fact, right before the end, things were the best they ever were.  He was hardly drinking, and we were all getting along just fine.

Obviously it was a false sense of security.  Not sure if it was planned that way, on his part, or not.  But someone else had set their sights on him, and he played right into her hands.  Got drunk, and took off with her, and then got caught red-handed.  I think he made the “easy” decision to just give up then, and he basically just left me high and dry with no warning.

I almost didn’t live through the aftermath.  There were many times I almost gave up.  I did not want to continue living.  It was just too hard.  I had given up everything for this man.  My money, my pride, my love.  And now I had nothing left to show for it, except a broken heart and a lot less money.

I took me a few years, but I did forgive him, in my heart.  If I ever saw him again, and we could have a conversation, I would tell him that.  I would tell him he is still an asshole for what he did to me, but that I forgive him.  I do not want that blackness left in my heart and soul.  To him, he probably never gave me a second thought.  That is probably what hurt the most.  He married that woman on the first anniversary of our divorce.  I’m sure she planned it that way.  She was pretty sneaky like that.

Am I glad I am divorced?  Yes and no.  Yes, because I no longer have to wait up all night for a drunk to come home.  No, because I did love him and always thought things could get better.  The eternal pessimist I guess.

I failed as a wife.  I failed as a mother.  But I did learn a lot about it along the way.  I take my responsibility for my failings.  I wish I could do things over.  Woulda/coulda/shoulda.  Not going to happen.

Hopefully it made me a better person overall.  I do know that I never want to experience pain and heartbreak like that again.  So we shall see what life still has to offer me…..

Stuck in the middle


Middle child.  Middle of a project.  Middle of the bed.  Middle of the pack.

Sometimes it seems like I am always stuck in the middle.  Especially the middle of the pack thing.  I’m looking for someone like me.  Not too young, not too old.  You know, middle of the pack.

I have many friends of the male variety.  Just not the right one.

One is too old and set in his ways.  Old fashioned.  Stubborn as a mule.  But gentlemanly and always sending cards and presents.  Lives 4 hours away.

One is too young and still searching for what he wants out of life.  Also stubborn as a mule.  Gentlemanly in some ways, but not very thoughtful in many ways.  Lives 4 miles away.

Both I consider friends.  Each one offers something different in their friendship.  One comes with history and the possibility of a future.  One comes with deep conversation and sharing of souls and secrets and probably a lifelong friendship.

One is not better or worse than the other.  Each has different strengths and weaknesses.  But, that old saying, the grass is always greener on the other side?  Damn they’re right.  At least, that’s what the mind thinks.

The mind can never choose one or the other and be satisfied.  The mind always searches for something better.  The mind does not want to settle for less than the best.

Just what is the best?  A best friend?  A best mate?  Hopefully both in one person?

If I could meld the two together, I could have a life long mate, and a best friend.  I thought I had it before, but I lost it.  I am jealous of those that find it, and keep it and nurture it.  I keep thinking, I can find it, I can do it again.  Then I think, naw, too much trouble, too much heartache involved.

Person.  Not dog or cat.  Person.  That is the scary part.  The dogs and cats don’t leave you willingly.  A person can, and does.  That’s the heartache part.  Persons make it personal.  So many people say they would rather have loved and lost, then never have loved at all.  I’m not so sure about that.  I won’t even get another dog because the loss is too great and tears me apart.  I don’t think I could stand to lose another person.

But I have to try.  I have many friends, very good friends, but we all need someone to love us and protect us and grow old with us.  We need to be someone’s Numero Uno.  The person we think of first thing in the morning, and last thing at night.  The person who makes us a better person.  The person who makes you laugh, cry, and most of all, makes you happy.

Now where the hell did that blind guy go?

The love of a parent, the loss of a child

It is said that the love of a parent is an unfailing one, and the loss of a child the biggest heartbreak imaginable.  So what happens when the two collide?  You get a Susan Smith, an Andrea Yates, a Casey Anthony, and possibly a Deborah Bradley, mother of missing infant Lisa Irvin.

I am not a mother myself, but have been lucky enough to be close enough to my family to parent vicariously through them.  I cannot begin to fathom losing any of my nieces and nephews, let alone be responsible for their demise.

How does a seemingly devoted mother turn in an instant to kill their offspring?  You always hear afterwards “they seemed like such a normal family, the mother was always seemed so loving”.  There were no outward signs of discord in the family.  The spouse or other family members are equally shocked when the tragedy happens.  Is it genetic?  Is it depression, baby blues, an accident?  A baby screams all day, all night.  A young mother feels helpless, and just wants it to stop.  A woman finds love, but with a man who doesn’t want to include her children in that love.  A mother drinks or takes drugs, and a child dies on her watch.  Panic sets in, and the reality begins.

Personally I think some deaths are indeed accidents, and the parent tries to cover it up as a kidnapping or robbery.  Eventually the truth comes out in most cases, and then it looks even worse for the person responsible.

Being a parent is a HUGE committment.  One that lasts a lifetime.  Many people are not prepared, or not capable of doing this.  You can debate all day long abortion, adoption, etc., but the fact remains that giving birth does not automatically make you a good parent.  Children can bring a family closer to each other, or tear them apart. 

There are so many people in the world desperate to have a child, or who have lost a child, and would dearly love to have the chance to raise and protect them in this world.  It is hard to imagine the opposite.

Hold your children dear to your heart.  God has entrusted them to you.  Their fate should be in His hands, not yours.