My confession to you

I was found guilty...

Finish the Sentence Friday Writing Prompt


I was found guilty the day I was born. I was already guilty of crimes I had yet to commit. It's because I'm human. There are many crimes I've committed against God and against myself, crimes I've already asked God for forgiveness, but I've also committed heinous acts against humanity. Acts I have yet to confess until now. Here is my confession to God, and just as importantly, my confession to you. May he forgive me for being so, well, flawed. I beg your forgiveness as well.

Crimes against humanity I am guilty of:

I never told people who I loved that I love them.
fear
fear of being rejected
fear of not being good enough
feelings I didn't deserve them

I never forgave people and some I took too long to forgive
Fear of being hurt again
Anger and resentment because I was hurt

I don't trust myself
I second guess myself
and I tune off my intuition
my radio signal to God
my radio signal to others
Doubt. Insecurity.
I believed criticism instead of praise
If I have no faith in myself, then where is my faith in God?

I want to rule the world
I dominate situations instead of acting as a team
I have to be right, and I will not allow others to be wrong
I fantasize of power, success, and things that make me superior instead of equal
I believed might is right, and my fists solved problems before my heart
That you must fight the enemy to win a war instead of loving them to remove the need for it
That death would stop evil before love would
I placed my desires and ego above the better good of all those around me
I hurt others believing it would heal my pain
I pushed others down believing it would make me fly
When all I had to do was open my wings and be

I didn't love when people needed it
I drove passed homeless people because I didn't want to share my wealth
and because I didn't want to feel their pain
I drove passed people broken down along side the road
because I feared urban legends of an evil that doesn't exist
I didn't call my nephew to see if he wanted to join us for sledding
because I was so busy trying to do things that do not matter
I forgot about the things that do
I do not call my grandfather, ever. Or my aunts. Or my uncles.
Because I think they will always be at the next holiday reunion
I didn't love my neighbors when they wronged me and needed my forgiveness,
and I didn't get to know half of them
Too many times I've seen my children need me, and I didn't want to stop what I was doing.
Sometimes they needed a hug or some direction, and other times, they just wanted me to listen.
I thought what I was doing was more important
I thought grown up things were a higher priority than kid things
I thought they were resilient enough to get over it without me
I flinch every time I am asked to hold someone's hand because it's awkward to me
Because I didn't think I knew them well enough to caress them,
even in a small way that would impact them more than it would inconvenience me
I do not hug enough because I don't have that kind of attention span
I simply did not love enough because I didn't love myself

I didn't understand the language of love
I shunned people who were reaching out to love me
I didn't care about things that mattered to the world
things like peace, understanding, kindness, compassion, hope and truth
Instead, I cared about things that didn't matter to the world
things like anger, resentment, ego, fear, hate, recognition and lust
I was self seeking instead of self fulfilling
I didn't smile enough
I put my own sadness above the happiness of others
I killed my own happiness in the process because I needed to love
I needed to love more than I needed to be loved
I needed to take care of others more than I needed to be taken care of
I needed to embrace the butterflies in my tummy and release them to the world for them to see



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In my closet is the second best dream ever

I seem to have two bloggerspherical writing prompts to do at the same time. The finish the sentence Friday was due yesterday, but due to family, a little insanity, a dash of depression, and the kids playing PBS games on the computer, I didn't finish it until today, but tomorrow is the Sunday Confessions one, so I'm putting both into one post somehow. I'm multitasking.

Finish the sentence Friday wants a VLOG, yes a vlog, on the best dream ever.
Sunday Confessions: What's in your closet?

I don't vlog. I've been wanting to vlog. I took a broadcasting class once, so I want to put those mad skillz to good use, though I got a D in the class and it was ole school editing with VCRs. But I did this awesome commercial of my sister wearing an old peasant's dress running through the back yard at night, stopping, sighing, and then voice over tape whispered, "Obsession. By Calvin Klein." It was awesome.

So this video kind of sucks. I mean you really could skip it if you want. Best intro ever.


Other dream posts on my blog can be found here...

MY OLD DREAM POSTS


But there is one best dream ever that's also a confession--a skeleton I hide in my closet. I've been dreaming about some guy from high school since 1996ish. Some of them are psychic, like I hadn't seen him from high school graduation until Facebook, and somewhere in between all that, I dreamt that he got engaged. I found out from Facebook years later, the timing of that dream was exactly in the right time period of his engagement. There were a couple others like that.

Our dreams are usually rated G. We found the lost city of Atlantis. We defeated the aliens twice. Yes. That's right. We evaded alien invasion twice. You're welcome. I also helped him escape from the Looney Bin and Prison. There have been several occasions where we are running, and because he's all in shape rock climbing hiking 20 plus miles and I'm me, he usually picks me up and carries me because I run too slow. We also usually argue about who drives. He always has to drive... I've had a lot of dreams about him, it would be difficult to tell you all of them, but one of my favorites...

We were somehow killed at our royal wedding, and our ghosts are roaming about together. We are in this old mansion and we are spying on the dude that killed us. So at some point, we switch rooms, but going through the wall wasn't like just going through the wall. It was actually entering this dark long endless tunnel. So dreamlover wants me to follow him down this hall, and he extends his hand all romantical, and scared shitless of spiders and rats and cob webs and whatever could lurk in the darkness, I grab his hand. After walking some, he asked why I wouldn't let go, and I was like "it's so dark in here this way I know you are still with me." 

Well then it somehow was romantic, like we had this romantic conversation or something as we were walking and when we found the wall we wanted to come out of, we flew out the wall like falling on each other. Then we kinda start making out but he's like, "I have a problem." and I'm like I know bad timing but dammit this IS our honeymoon is it not?  Apparently, there are certain appendages you don't get to take with you at your death... 

So we are trying to get our way back to our bodies. We approach this gymnasium, maybe high school maybe not, but anyway, I start roller skating. He's talking about how we are miles and miles away from where we need to be like we could be walking all night. Then I realize, wait, I just made rollerskates appear out of no where on my feet. Like this must be an after death superpower. What else can I make? And boom, I make a really cool rocket ship. I was like dude, you are driving. So we jump in the rocket ship and he flies us back to our wedding. Landing was a lot like falling and really fun actually.

The wedding is empty. Nobody is there. In the middle of a garden, we see our bodies in this white convertible in the back seat, he in a tux and me in my really poofy ugly wedding dress, like I really expected the dream state of myself to have picked something more sophisticated and functioning than a poofy girly always in the way wedding dress. So then the driver, Bruno, walks in the area and was on the cell phone with the guy who killed us. I guess he poisoned our champagne. According to Bruno, we weren't quite dead yet. Bruno was still told to bury us anyway. So Bruno walks off to get the garbage bags and shovel and stuff, and we are flipping out trying to decide how to save ourselves.

I'm thinking maybe if we haunt Bruno, he'll get scared and run off to give us more time. Then I was thinking maybe if we haunted a friend and somehow got the message to them to come get us and take us to the ER, but then I was thinking that could take days and we don't have that kind of time. So then, I got this brilliant idea. I made the rocket ship and us really small, like microscopic small, and we went into my blood stream and forced the poison out. [Obviously, I watch the Magic School Bus].  So then I'm alive, and somehow all I had to do was suck the poison out of dreamlover as if a snake had bit him and he was back. So we drive off in the convertible just as Bruno was returning. Dreamlover was driving and I think he aimed for Bruno on our way out.

We realize the car probably has GPS in it, so we have to dump it somewhere, but the dude that tried to kill us, mind you he was a tall slender man with dark hair and one of those mustaches you can't trust, well he was like the prime minister or something, like he had all this power like CIA and shit would be looking for us.  We didn't want to stash it where there would be innocent people who could get hurt, especially children. We find an abandoned insurance agency (I believe it was an Allstate building) and park the car there. It was like 10 blocks away from down town where there would be all these area businesses thriving, but around it was only an old church a block away, and being in my wedding gown and these stupid 4 inch spiked heels, I couldn't run far in those. So we grab our luggage out the trunk and headed over to the church.

There was an old lady there keeping up with the church, and I go and change into normal clothes. By the time I'm done, like minutes, there is a group of vehicles approaching ours and we can see out the window that the dude that killed us was with them. So we are totally freaking out thinking we have a matter of minutes before they find us at the church. The old woman explained to us that this church was one of the places that housed slaves trying to escape back in the civil war days and there were still hidden tunnels in the basement for which we could escape. So as we are heading out that way, I had a brilliant idea. I told dreamlover to go without me because there was something I had to do.

I grab the church's computer and get on my facebook and tell everyone the details of who killed us, who helped, how he did it, and that he was still trying to get us someone please inform the King and Queen on our behalf. Then I click post, and run off to try to catch up to dreamlover who was waiting on me even though I told him to go without me. So we enter another dark and mysterious tunnel where again he extends his hand to guide me and as we were running through it and I'm imagining where we are going to pop out, as I'm thinking pretty scenery in the woods somewhere, I wake up.

My dreams are usually unusual like that. I once killed vampires in a lake of cheese. I fought WWII planes from a row boat after a bear got stuck in the freezer we kept in the middle of the woods. I have a thriller dream I need to post someday that would make a good movie...

Dreamlover is my deepest darkest secret. He's the skeleton in my closet. Literally. One of the things I keep in there is a little black box with his soul and his shrine. I'm kidding. I do keep a letter he wrote me in there away from the reach of children. Would you throw that away? 

Also in my closet, I keep a bunch of old shoes, dirty laundry including the dry clean only bin I want to forget exists, clothes, old hand bags, the logs and rocks from the fire place (apparently those are choking hazards, don't ask), and an autograph football from Ken Anderson (don't worry, NOBODY has heard of him). It's almost like a shrine of my past but with a more stalkery feel about it.

This isn't my most interesting blog post ever, but you know, some days the vampires suck out my creativity and I'm left with this.

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Don't Crap on my Lawn and Pretend you Fertilized It!

I am the type of person to stand up for principle before loyalty. Just had to say that first.

Awesome blog post about not judging

Today, I ran into yet another case of moms bashing other moms online. It was about a subject I do have an opinion about, one I might be wrong about. That's the thing. No mother knows it all. You don't know what you are doing as a mom. Not one of us has any right to say, "Hey you have to do this, or you suck," because we all suck worse than our Dysons and Hoovers. The person who does it all right has absolutely no way to prove that.

When I read a blog about someone explaining that a kid cleaning up the house is more work for mom, more work because we have to nag, argue and deal with fits, followed by re-cleaning it so it's actually clean, and then I see hundreds of moms swarm to be like, "You shouldn't be allowed to have kids or pets..." Or "You are doing it all wrong. This will haunt you. You are just being lazy. You don't love your kids. Your kids are spoiled brats and that's what's wrong with that generation..." Yeah, what kind of mom would she be if she got her parenting advice from some Yahoo Username like girl01 or justsayin?

As a mom, I have to have a clean house if people like moms who think my kids should clean had it their way. I assure you shit like rocks in your fire place that are supposed to be there is something CPS will have a problem with. Popcorn is a choking hazard to some of these asshats out there. People take that shit way too far; no mom can afford to have a messy house for not even a few days. The judgment factor from other people is too high anymore. You post a picture on your facebook that has one thing out of place in the background, and you get messages and comments, "You might want to clean first before taking that picture."

Check out Holdin Holden's blog

This is why mom on mom bashing must stop. You make it harder on all moms when you do that. You are raising society's already unreachable expectations even further, and you are doing it only to service your own ego (yeah hide behind the well-being of other people's children you don't actually know all you want, I know where you are). Is it really that bad? Your ego?

Online criticism will yield one of two outcomes. 1. It will take me to even a lower place if I take you seriously, which makes things worse for me and my children. That's like saying, "Hey you suck, let me fuck up your kids some more with my self-serving opinion." Why don't you just take their lollipop? Or two, I won't really give a damn because you have no credibility, and I will continue life as I live it. Pretty much, those are the outcomes of every critical bully like comment made on the interwebs. Does any of that help the world at all?

No. In fact, what happens is some sheeple minded person comes by, reads your comment, thinks "Oh shit, there's drama. Awesome," takes your side because it's the first comment they read or because they are your friend, and adds to it giving the poor victim of your bullying the sensation she is being attacked by not just one wolf, but a pack of wolves. Then the bullies take that stupid opinion and carry it to another mom to criticize, and they don't stop until at least 10 moms are second guessing themselves crying because someone was an ass to them on the internet. And they do it all in the name of the children they are supposedly defending or helping but actually hurting in the long-run, which is very sociopathic if you ask me.

If you want to tell me how to parent, you better have kids who clean their rooms every day, carries a 4.0 GPA, plays a musical instrument better than I do, and is the sweetest kid to all the kids and dominates every social problem peacefully.

There's a fine line between suggesting / advising, and just down right being an overly critical ass trying to belittle people. Usually it's the intention. You can tell when people genuinely care about your kids and your well being. If they are more pissed than concerned, that's usually a sign that they are just taking a shit on your lawn. All you moms out there, don't listen to them. Seriously, would take advice from a talking turd? 

When it comes to subjects like breastfeeding, breastfeeding in public, playing Mozart, forward facing carseats, and yes, even giving your kids chores, the fact of the matter is every situation is different. Please do NOT continue to make the same mistakes as our public education system. Every kid is an individual. They are not a herd of cattle where they all get the same stuff and you will get the same results.

I have 3 kids. My oldest struggled with language. My middle kid struggled with speech. My youngest is a language speaking genius. My oldest can draw unicorns and Santa Claus and the 3 year old is still scribbling on paper. They all potty trained at different ages, and different methods brought them to that. They all walked at different ages, and each of their struggles with overcoming the crawl was unique to each of them. One could walk at 8 months old, but crawled for the most part until 2 years of age because she enjoyed crawling. The other had balance issues. The third one walked really young, but her feet kind of tilt in the center where it's not quite right. My oldest is naturally great at math. The middle kid is ok with math, but she naturally empathizes better than her siblings, and she can draw through a maze faster than anyone in this house. My youngest loves letters and words, and while she can count, she'd rather tell you the alphabet.

A great blog post on providing negative feedback

Not all kids are ready for X at Y age. Cognitively, they develop differently than their peers. Yes there are some similarities between all people, but for the most part, each child needs an individual plan. Each child has their own strengths and their own weaknesses. These are things that are important to establish their sense of self. Treating them like they are cattle, like whatever you did for your one kid should be done to all kids or the world is messed up, that is what is messing up the world. This is why we have kids who graduate high school thinking Texas is its own country and LOL is a real word. This is why we have adults with a college education voted into positions of power who thinks during a legitimate rape, the woman's body shuts down. These are individuals who got lost in the herd. Their individual cognitive needs were not met somewhere along the way.

And the ONLY person who is qualified to know what their kid needs are the parents, or people who are so involved in the child's life, they are like a parent.

In addition to children being unique, guess what? I know this will come as a shock to all of you. They grow up to be adults with unique needs and talents. That means every parent out there has his own strengths and flaws. Every parent has his own preferences and personality. Give me a kid who needs to learn how to count to ten, and I bet you anything parent A will teach that completely differently than parent B. Why? Because they draw from the strengths and work around their weaknesses satisfying the dominant nature of their personality.

The Clutter Diet, written by a professional organizer, will tell you to create your own systems in keeping your house clean and clutter free. She emphasizes on creating systems (routines, methods) that is in line with your personal style and preferences, and why? Because the chances of success are greater when you gear things toward your strengths working around your weaknesses appealing your preferences. Some people prefer a calendar on their wall. Some a planner. Others use their cell phones or Google calendar. The important thing is to go with whatever is working best for you, and if your current system is not working, opt for something you want as opposed to what people say you should do.

And this brings me to the third part of the chaos individuality brings to the role of parenting. Combining different personalities. Some parents have a personality that work better with their kid's personality than others. Having two distinct, or similar, personalities work together to learn or teach is not always an easy task. If  you are lucky enough that you and your kid get along naturally because your personalities blend well and compliment each other, that doesn't mean you are a better parent than the one whose personality clashes with their kid's. That also definitely means the other parent will probably HAVE to do things differently than you do for that reason.

We parents need to support each other more and criticize less. You get what you give. If you are constantly criticizing, maybe you've been criticized too much? Maybe that's why your ego needs a little boost via belittling people. Maybe if you start supporting other moms, maybe you'll find support coming back your direction at some point.

The blog post I read, I read an overwhelmed mom trying to keep her house clean. I empathized. I know exactly what it's like to try to make kids clean. It's a pain in the ass. I struggle getting my kids to. I'm a very yes mom who has a natural inclination to spoil my kids the way I was spoiled. Pampered might be a better word. I'm not really spoiled. I'm pampered. When I looked to the comments for advice to help me in my situation as I would love to teach my children responsibility better than I already am, I couldn't find any outside of one comment that had no likes suggesting getting a toy broom, which I already tried. The only thing I really found in the comments was judgment. How would you feel if 529 people, and still going, told you at once that you suck? You'd probably feel like shit and not clean that day.

Click for Great Advice on Reducing Criticism

And because that blog post I read, which I'll link to later, was about this age group... This is probably more important than getting your kids to do chores...

Psychosocial Stage 4 - Industry vs. Inferiority

• This stage covers the early school years from approximately age 5 to 11. 
• Through social interactions, children begin to develop a sense of pride in their accomplishments and abilities. 
• Children who are encouraged and commended by parents and teachers develop a feeling of competence and belief in their skills. Those who receive little or no encouragement from parents, teachers, or peers will doubt their abilities to be successful. 
• Successfully finding a balance at this stage of psychosocial development leads to the strength known as competence or a belief our own abilities to handle the tasks set before us. 

From http://psychology.about.com/od/psychosocialtheories/a/psychosocial_2.htm

It doesn't matter as much if you make your kid clean or not at that age group. What matters more is how you approach your kid. Do you approach your kid from your critical parent? Or do you do it from your nurturing parent? The nurturing parent who encourages and commends your child. You can use chores to provide a sense of accomplishment, as long as you commend your child for a job well done. You can also use piano lessons for that. It doesn't really matter which way you go.
And without further adieu, please click it, Why I Don't Want My Kids Doing Chores -- Even If They're Age-Appropriate, and please leave a positive comment that will uplift. Thank you.

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Thank you for reading this shit. Would you believe the top searched term that brought people to my blog so far is, "Tornado?" It's like they know my kids. Unfortunately, FEMA doesn't cover that kind of natural disaster.