Monday, September 30, 2013
Do other countries have salad bars or is the idea of "All you can eat" exclusive to America? I don't know about you, but our family loves the idea of rows and rows of luke warm broccoli, spinach, beets, jello cubes, and imitation crab salad. Let's not forget the containers of salad dressings that some ding dong switched the serving ladle for so now the Blue cheese is contaminating the Thousand Island. I'm not sure what the attraction is, but it's there, and we fall for it every time. (Seriously, there should be rules posted somewhere that everyone can see. Better yet? You should have to sign a contract before you fill up that plate!) As of now, the only safeguard we have in place is the sneeze guard. (Gag) At the Sizzer the other day, I just happen to get behind some man who loved to say his daughters name so much that he used it in each and every sentence. "Natalia Anna Maria, would you like some olives on your salad? Natalia Anna Maria, how about some croutons? Natalia Anna Maria, look at the peaches! You love peaches! Would you like some in a bowl or on the salad plate? Natalia Anna Maria if you eat your salad you can have some ice cream for dessert!" Good grief! Let the kid serve herself! Spare me and the rest of civilization our sanity and stop saying her name! And if anyone ever simply calls her by her first name only, the poor kid won't know who they are talking to! I can only take so much! For goodness sake people! Do us all a favor and don't give your kids a name with more than 2 syllables! And don't use their middle name in public! Middle names are for birth certificates, wedding announcements, for mamas to use when you are in serious trouble, and obituaries. That's it! How do you not know this? Ask anyone! Look around you! Stop being so self indulgent. Yes its a pretty name, but I don't want to hear it more than once. NOBODY does! I guarantee you! We can take a poll right here and now and I bet 99% of the people would agree that no one cares what your kids middle name is.
Honestly, middle names are superfluous!
Miss Jodi (Kay for the record, or obituary, which ever comes first)
But seriously, keep shaving those arm pits. Because unless you are Julia Roberts, you aren't gonna get away with it. And even with her it's questionable....so do yourself a favor and shave the pits ladies, but the legs can wait till April.
Till next time,
Hairy legs, but smooth pits,
Sunday, September 22, 2013
I'd like to think I am of average intelligence. I am certainly more creative than intellectual. No complaints though, I'm pretty content with the way I am. There are times (usually when math is involved) when I think it might be nice to be gifted in that area, but hey, that's why God gave us the calculator. To even the playing field you know? We can't all be Einstein and we can't all be Monet. But there are some things in this big world that are completely mind boggling to me. I am certain that everyone has something they just don't understand. I simply try not to think too much about them. It just isn't fruitful. Things like: how exactly does "Copy-paste" work? (magic me thinks) and how do cups that are exactly the same size, fit into each other? And why do opposites attract? And perhaps the strangest of all, how can a two pound box of nuts and chews add ten pounds to my back side? I just don't get it.... but that's OK. I'll just think about something else.
Till next time,
Lost in thought,
Till next time,
Wednesday, September 18, 2013
One of the most difficult parts about being a parent is having to decide what battles your child must face on their own and when it is necessary to step in. After months of waiting, and praying, and letting her face it on her own, I stepped in on my teenagers behalf today. I hope I made the right decision.... I am praying that I did and that I handled it correctly. Wouldn't the world be a much nicer place if we all just followed those rules we learned in Kindergarten? You know: Share, Play Nicely, and Don't eat the paste? Sigh....
I believe that in our society today, there are far too many Helicopter Moms out there. (Helicopter parent is a colloquial, early 21st-century term for a parent who pays extremely close attention to his or her child's or children's experiences and problems, particularly at educational institutions. The term was originally coined by Foster W. Cline, M.D. ) We.hold our children on a pedestal, where they don't belong, and anyone who offers the slightest criticism is torn to shreds. What happens then, is our children are unable to take any criticism, good or bad, true or false. They begin to actually believe that they can do no wrong. Their respect for authority begins to fade, until it gets to the point that if anyone offers any advice they are mocked and belittled. A police officer handing out a ticket is accused of singling them out. A teacher who gives a poor grade on a test is questioned. An employer who suggests that an employee be thorough in their work, then has their employee walk in the middle of their shift in frustration. I don't want that for my children! I want to have them respect those in authority over them. The difficulty however, lies in not letting things get to the point where your child is bullied.
There is a scene in the movie "The Hand that Rocks the Cradle" that is running through my mind right now. In it, Peyton the nanny who is played by Rebecca De Mornay, confidently walks up to the schoolyard bully and grabs him by the arm. She then twists it until it almost breaks and tells him that she has a message from Emma (the girl she takes care of). "Leave Emma alone or I'm gonna rip your --- head off."
I know exactly how she feels. I admit to fantasizing about doing something similar to this. And hey, if I'm going to be honest here, quite often. The good thing? I don't follow through. Martin Luther King Jr. said, "Injustice anywhere is a threat to justice everywhere." Perfectly put, and so true. The fury that boils inside of you when you see your loved one being treated unfairly or cruelly can often be unbearable. I believe that when God says in the Good Book, "Justice is mine," He is, as always speaking truth. But I find it hard to resist helping Him out sometimes...There are often times, when resisting such satisfying behavior is unbearable.
A couple of years ago, I was working with a woman who was horrible. I am not exaggerating. She was a Triple Horned Beast in a power suit. I could do nothing right. She seemed to have her radar set directly onto me. I did my best and worked with great integrity but to no avail. One particularly grueling day, I was weary and emotionally drained from the stress. I couldn't take it a minute longer. I was so tired of this woman cutting corners when it came to her work and arriving late and leaving early and then turning around and criticizing and punishing my hard work. When she left that day, I continued praying just as I had been. But this time instead of prayers to be able to continue and to bear it, my prayers were, "Lord, I cannot. Not another day, not another minute. Father take me out of this workplace or take her." I admit, I was greatly tempted to ask Him to take her life....(I am not proud of this.) I didn't ask Him to, but yes, it was that bad, and yes,the thought did cross my mind 2 or perhaps even 2,010 times (give or take). However, I refrained from suggesting that she meet Jesus that night, and I am so glad I did! The next day when I got to work, everything was going along as normal. Until about 11. Suddenly a locksmith showed up. Co-workers began whispering. Then the manager came up to me and told me that the Triple Horned Beast in a power suit was no longer employed by the company, and was not welcome on the premises. Furthermore, I was to call security if she came for her belongings. She had been fired. THANK GOD I didn't ask for her life! O thank you LORD! I had such guilt over asking that she be taken out of the work place and it actually happening!!! Let me tell you, we need to be careful what we ask God for. I should have been asking Him to soften her heart and to weigh heavy upon her conscience to work with integrity. Instead, I selfishly prayed for her to be removed.
I am a wicked person. I readily admit to this. The good news is, I don't follow up on my horrible thoughts. Sometimes I even do the right thing. Not always. I would like to think that I do the right thing more and more often as I get older. I sure hope that as I get closer to heaven, my heart gets more and more ready to be there. In the mean time, keep me in your prayers would ya? And you can also pray that I find that happy medium. You know, that place of discretion found somewhere between the Helicopter Mom and the Mom who looks away in the name of teaching responsibility? Thanks all.
Till next time,
I'm not doing what I want to do....
Sunday, September 8, 2013
Remember the Ruffles commercial? "Ruffles have ridges?" Why call them Ruffles? That sounds like something you would call a Tutu, NOT a potato chip. If it has ridges, just call it Ridges potato chips. Not Ruffles, that's just stupid. Now speaking of Ruffles, I know we all have our vices, and mine could easily be (and has in the past been) worse. But I will admit to you with my head hung in shame, that mine is Ruffles Cheddar and Sour Cream potato chips. Something ugly happens when I pull a bag of those babies open. It's not pretty. I start out nicely and with the best of intentions of course . A single cheesy chip, delicately placed into my salivating mouth. I savor the cheesy-sour-cream flavor and gently bite down, one slow thoughtful crunch followed by another, this time a little quicker, and another, and another, each time a little faster than the last. I stick my hand into the bag and pull out the second chip and place it into my mouth and immediately grab two more. It's about this moment when I become a wild rabid beast. I probably look like one of those lions on a National Geographic special that hasn't eaten anything for a week and jumps on some poor unsuspecting Water Buffalo that happens to be minding its own business eating prairie grass and gets turned into flying pieces of flesh....Probably. OK, more than likely. I don't know what it is. Maybe it' the crunch, maybe the cheesiness, maybe the sour cream. I don't know. I don't care. It's just...amazing. I never buy a big bag, only the single serving size. Which really isn't a single serving if you look at the nutritional information on the back. Talk about depressing. They kinda ruin the whole moment by putting the facts right there on the back of the bag...It's almost as bad as a menu at a restaurant that has the caloric value RIGHT next to the description of the dish. I think it would be classier to have that on the receipt. You don't want to know when you order, right? Let me know the damage AFTER it's been done. The price and the calories all at once. Good grief Charlie Brown. So if you happen to see me with a glazed look in my eyes and a strange orange powder around my mouth and on my fingers and a crumpled bag of Ruffles at my feet, please... look the other way. Just. Look. Away.
This morning as I headed out to church, I realized that I had some extra time on my hands. What's a sleep deprived girl to do with an extra 15 minutes? That's right. Coffee. I helped myself to a Pumpkin Spiced small cuppa with a touch of cream and headed off to church.
Now at my church, Calvary Chapel of the High Desert, we have 3 services. I am not a morning person and I don't want to scare anyone, so logically, I go to the second service. Second service is supposed to start at 9:45, however we are on what is affectionately referred to as, "Calvary time," which means anywhere within half an hour of the time stated. When I rolled up at 9:40 I found to my great shock that the first service had not only ended on time, but a little early. I saw a group of friends and decided to stop over and say hello.
I approached my friends and greeted them with a hug and a hello. Strangely, each one took a step back from me after I said hello...I did a mental check list: Did I use deodorant? Yes. Did I shower? Yes I did. Did I brush my teeth? Yes I did.... but I also had that cuppa. Oh. Coffee breath.
"Sorry girls!" I said cheerfully. I had a cup of coffee on the way over. From now on I'll refrain from using any word that starts with an "H." After I said this, my friend Renee sweetly pulled out her purse and said,"Let me get you a breath mint, because we are going to sing "Hosanna." And we did. Thank God for honest friends who happen to carry breath mints in their purse.