Top Dog

Does anyone else ever get into a case of the "Poor-Little-Me"s?

I have been thinking a lot about my life recently. I will be 26 in less than 3 months. The only things that I have as proof that I have existed in this world are some papers (records) and keepsakes, and a spouse and some little furry creatures. No offspring. No genetic legacy.

I've been thinking a lot about the whole subject of parenthood for the last few years. What is it that makes one ready to be a parent? I want to wait until the right time, but how do I know when that is and what it will feel like? How do I know what I need to be doing to get there? I have been feeling very impatient about it and a little depressed. I think about how it's not fair that there are all those people out there who procreate and get to have their babies, regardless of how f-ed up they are- Jenna Jameson. I feel jealous. How could I possible be any worse as a parent than Britney Spears, Kendra Wilkinson, and countless other nutcases?

Then I think about the ramifications of their actions. All the babies born to selfish, psychotic, narcissistic, denial-ridden people suffer mightily, and resent the heck out of their parents when all's said and done. So, when I think about the fact that kids born to unfit parents have such a great struggle to attain even minimal happiness in this life, I feel glad that I haven't had one yet. I am feeling dissatisfied with my life right now, so how would I be able to breed offspring who feel satisfaction with theirs? If I had a child, and lavished them with all the love and attention in the world, gave them everything I didn't get growing up, would I resent them for being happy? Would I teach them to be miserable despite everything so that their mommy wouldn't be jealous of them?

The thing that hurts the most right now is that people in my life don't seem to think that I need to have a child either. I feel like at family get-togethers, there is no talk about having children when I am in the room, and it is the untouchable subject. I feel a great amount of disapproval from my parents and siblings, and it stings. I think it could have to do with my weight, since I am a little on the heavy side, and there have been some side comments about it in the past. Maybe my in-laws are hoping that I will have a heart-attack and die before I get around to having a child with their son, so that I won't risk passing on the gene for obesity to their grandchild. A gene which I feel doesn't exist. I think I am overweight because I eat, not because God made me this way.

Why is there some kind of ban on enjoying other people being happy in my family? It's like, if I think of something to do that I feel excited about, the automatic reaction from my family members is "Oh my, why would you want to do that?" or "But you don't need to do that!" If I want to think that my and my husband's hypothetical child would be ridiculously adorable, and say so, then gosh darn it, would it kill you to just agree and give some acceptance and encouragement for once?

Also, I've had enough of the family rule that one must save the other from themselves. I hate it. I refuse to participate any longer. If a person wants a rainbow mohawk, and asks me to go with them to get it, I will drive them and encourage them to get the brightest colors possible. If someone offers to let me use something of theirs, and I want to, then I will take them up on it. If someone in the family agrees to do something, and makes no statement about wanting to recant, then I will hold them to the agreement. If my sister wants to go bungee-jumping, I will give her my blessing. If my brother wants twenty computers, and tells me he's going to get them beforehand, I would say "God be with you, go with great joy and much gaming."

Why should we decide that our fellow family member or neighbor is too stupid to make decisions or agreements or contracts without our input? If my sister wanted to buy a straw off of me, and I knew that she might use it to sniff drugs, then yes I would still sell it to her. I would probably even give it to her, and not say one thing about it unless she asked me for my opinion. Then, I would say, "I have no problem selling you my straw, but I think it would be stupid for you to use it to sniff drugs." My trying to control her by not selling it to her would only make her want to do it all the more. Plus, I would not be showing her love and acceptance. And this is hypothetically speaking of course, but let's go with it a little further. Why would someone be wanting to make decisions that would hurt them in the long run, like say, snorting drugs? Would it be because they are medicating hurts inside of themselves, caused by feeling rejected and unloved by their family members? So if I tried to control my sister and refused to sell her the straw, and sent the implicit message of 'I think you are too da**ed stupid to make the right decision, so here, let me make it for you', would I not be affirming her feelings of rejection and hurt? Would I just be delaying and amplifying the bad behavior? And, by the way, this only applies to relatives who are grown and mentally sound. I also would not accept or encourage illegal behavior. Straws are not illegal.

Ultimately, those who are believers are to become loving like God, right? So, did Christ tell the people who were about to crucify him not to do so? Did he make all the wood, nails, chains, and weapons in the world disappear to save them from themselves and keep them from making a huge mistake? Nooooo. He let them do it. And he said nothing. God does not control us into being perfect little autobots. If the pattern was to save us all from ourselves then there would be no such thing as sin. Instead, He loves us in spite of everything we do. He gives us access to the rope with which we hang ourselves. He loves and accepts us unconditionally, and lets us be free to be who we are.

I decided to share a little gem that I taped last night of my dog and husband duking it out- one of her favorite pastimes. Enjoy!

Well, well, well- we shall see who still checks in on this here overdue blog, now, won't we?

I've been doing a lot of thinking today, and examining some of the reasons why I do the things that I do. I have come to the conclusion that I don't want to continue being motivated by laziness or anger.

For example, why is it that I see the same furball on the floor for three days in a row and do not vacuum it up? Reason: I am angry at the dog for having fur. And, I am angry at my house for being dirty. And, I am angry at other people for not noticing it and vacuuming it up themselves for a change. So, there you have it. I have been victimized by inanimate objects, so the world must be subject to furballs at my whim.

Now if only the world would comply with my irrationality.

Another example: why is it that I continue to have every dish in the house dirty so that each time I want something to eat I must first wash all the dishes, silverware, pots, and pans that I want to use before I can cook? The answer: greater forces are not at work, and my dishes refuse to be miraculously self-cleaning. Oh, rats.

So, in order for my life to get better I have to choose action instead of inaction. My response to the universe today was that I cleaned a dish. And then a fork. Ha ha! I have won!

I realized just how nice it is to be able to just grab a dish and make a sandwich.

But the furball is staying there, so nyah.

Okay, so I have been reminded more than once by my dear sister that I need to update my website. I have been told that it is too morbid. All right, I admit it. I have been a little lax in my attention to my reader.

Ok, so Sadie never came back. Very very sad. I still look for her every time I hear a big dog bark.



But, the upside is that I now have a new dog! Her name is Ginger. She is a red Australian Shepherd (actually she is more of a honeyed brown color, but officially that is called "red"). She is the cutest, fluffiest thing. I think I will only have Australian Shepherds as dogs from now on. She is such a good, sweet dog. I love her!



This morning I had a very novel experience. David bought me a bike recently. I love it, too. We had a deal that if I kept the food budget below 600 dollars in January, then at the beginning of February he would be a bike that I have been asking for for over a year now. So, I actually kept the food budget down to about 450 dollars in January, and now I have my bike. I haven't taken pictures of it yet, but when I do, I will post them.



So, this morning, I was about to take a little ride on my beautiful new bike, and Ginger was in the backyard having a fit. Apparently she is under the impression that every time the garage door opens she is supposed to get to come out and see us. She loves to do that, and a lot of times, if she is insistent enough, we let her. So, she was barking and barking, and I felt guilty, so I decided to see if she and the bike would mesh well. They did. She had the best time! It's the first time that she has gotten to run on an outing around the neighborhood. She didn't really have any fear of the bicycle, so it worked quite well. Now, when I take her out, I can spend some time coasting. That is very nice.



Ok, so in the other areas of my life there have been some changes as well. I now have an Associate's degree in Early Childhood Development. Hooray! Unfortunately, that does not mean that I am done at the Junior colleges. I have started at UNT this semester, but I still have 6 classes to take at the junior colleges, boo. At least the classes I am taking this semester are interesting. I am really liking my Linguistics class. I was told by several people beforehand that it was a super-hard class to take, but I have found the material very interesting so far.



Ok, so enjoy the pics of my sweet dog! Later!

Labels: bike, college, dog

Sadie is missing. She got out of her yard sometime during the day on Thursday, while David and I were at work. I have been feeling sort of zombie-like the past two days, driving up and down all the streets in the surrounding area, checking the perimeter of the house every time I step outside, and pestering the animal shelter to see if they found any German Shepherds recently. I am hurting; I feel like I lost a child. I just want her to come home.

Ok, it's been awhile since I posted last. I guess I came across a little writer's block while scrambling in between work, school, social commitments, and keeping my husband happy and content.

I'm feeling a little melancholy right now. Sometimes I wish I could go back to a simpler time in my life, back when I thought a budget was a kind of bird, and thought that my clothes just magically reappeared in my drawer all clean and folded automatically.

Today I spent the majority of the day catching up on housework that I have been letting pile up for a week or two. After a long day of dishes, vacuuming, and laundry, I was cutting up a watermelon to enjoy with David, and wallowing in memories from my childhood:

Missing Mom's "home-cooked" summer meals consisting of a can of condensed soup and a gigantic slice of watermelon.

Walking by the kitchen and seeing my skinny sister with a hollow leg getting all the last scrapings out of the rind.

Wandering through my dad's home-grown watermelon patch, with leaves bigger than my face, and looking for the tee-tiny watermelons, anticipating the deliciousness in the near future.

Sitting on the old picnic table in the back yard with my sister when I was about five, and each of us having a slice of one of Dad's watermelons that was so big I had to rest it on my knees in between bites.

Having a contest with my sister that night to see who could spit watermelon seeds at the dozen cats we owned and actually hit them. They were too good at dodging for us most of the time.

Eating the last couple bites of the Hamburger Helper when my brother wasn't looking, and then when he heatedly asked where it went (since his raging adolescent football-player appetite hadn't been satisfied yet with three heaping helpings) blaming it on my skinny sister, and watching her get called Miss Piggy shamefacedly.

Watching movies with my family on school nights, even though I knew I should be getting my homework done, and feeling happy that we were all doing something together without anyone getting angry at someone else for at least a couple of hours.

Getting called a bum-bum head by the little boy who lived behind us because I didn't want to play his stupid game.

Having to listen to him and his mother argue about whether or not my head actually looked like a bum-bum. She was determined to convince him that he was wrong so he would apologize, and he was determined not to apologize.

Dancing around the yard, holding a cat above my head, and chanting Ooga-chaka like a little heathen. I'm surprised the neighbors didn't think we were devil worshippers. I blame it on the Alvin and the Chipmunks movie we watched- it was a bad influence.

Always wanting to put my Barbies in a different outfit than the current one, being able to get the clothes off, and only being able to get the new clothes partly on. My dolls ended up being in a perpetual state of nakedness or mooning one another.

Wishing there was a way to get engraved underwear off the Barbie so I could change that, too. I probably wouldn't have been able to get the new underwear on her anyway.

Getting a kick out of making a loud noise and scaring my dad to death after he had been on the toilet long enough to relax during his extended bathroom trips. And yet he didn't get mad at me when I did that- I think he was just so glad that the house wasn't really falling to pieces.

Back rubs from Mom that would sometimes last as long as a movie. Hers were the best, because she always chewed her nails down to nubs, so her back scratches were more like light massages. But if you actually wanted a massage, she would swear she didn't have the faintest clue as to how to give one.

There are so many more things I could write down, but for tonight I'm out of steam. This will have to do until later.

The Final's Almost Here! Here is my paper for the final:

Everyone is an author, but many do not know it yet. Everyone has written something at some point: a journal, a letter, a narration of an event that happened to them recently. Writing is merely setting one’s point of view down on paper; the difference between a best-selling author and any old Joe on the street is training and practice in writing out one’s thoughts and ideas. In his article “Writing won’t kill you: Making your point is half the battle. Here’s how.”, Mr. Bill Marvel made several compelling and significant points about the writing process. He concluded that writing is a necessary skill for life, and that while writing one must articulate his ideas clearly and precisely.
Writing is an essential ability for all walks of life. As Mr. Marvel states, “Sooner or later everyone has to write something – a thank you note, a report on a PTA meeting, a complaint, an apology, a eulogy” (1). Everyone needs to know how to put cohesive thoughts together, and then transfer them all to paper. Writing skills separate the educated from the uneducated-- the cultured from the uncultured. People write essays to get scholarships, letters to get job interviews, love letters to get dates, journals to preserve memories, and signs to locate a missing pet. Writing is the bridge that connects us all, regardless of age, race, culture, religion, or location.
Writing also forges a common ground through the use of a mutual goal in all literature: all writers must learn to put their thoughts in words in a way that is clearly understood. For example, in Mein Kampf by Adolf Hitler, Hitler created labyrinths of words in his sentences; as a result, Hitler’s writing is hard to follow and understand. Thus, one of the most important aspects of writing is clarity and brevity of thought. As Ms. Diana Booher, a communications consultant, stated: “Clear writing is just clear thinking” (Marvel 2). So, when a person is learning to write, he is also learning to think more clearly.
There are many methods to writing comprehensibly—one method is to write an outline beforehand. Regina Montoya, CEO of the New America Alliance, says, “My writing’s better when I do an outline. [It] forces you to put down which points are the more important ones. The more thorough the outline, the clearer and more to the point your writing will be” (Marvel 2). Regardless of the method one uses, it is important to make sure that one’s writing is simply put so that any reader who picks it up can follow the line of thought.
Regardless of what a person is saying, people will not read it if they cannot understand it. They also will not read it if it lacks personality and enthusiasm. I deeply disagreed with Dr. Castilla’s point of view when she said, “I try to make my students understand their goal is to communicate, not to express themselves” (Marvel 3). Writing loses its essence and becomes boring and dull when the writer stops allowing his own personality to show and stops speaking in his own unique voice. Everyone must write at some point; whether writing a thank-you note or an autobiography, it is important to write clearly and with personality.