Follow-Through is not My Forte (a rambling blog about a conceptual blog)

This will be my first blog in quite a while...assuming I post it, that is.  I have been blogging every couple of weeks, or so, but haven't actually finished or posted any for months.  I just looked.  I have 32 blog drafts that I've never posted.  It occurs to me that I might have a slight problem with follow-through.

But, I digress.  

Last night (as I was laying awake, as usual), I had a brilliant blog idea!  I was so excited about it that I got up and wrote it down.  What I wrote down was, "How Was Your Day?"  Kind of a theme blog in which I would sit down every night and blog about my day.  You know, like, when you get home from school/work/gallivanting and your mom/dad/husband/wife/cat/goldfish greets you with, "Hi!  How was YOUR day?"  At which point you fill them in on the highlights and the pitfalls.  It would be witty (of course) and sarcastic  and frequently snarky.  In short, it would be HILARIOUS!  You know, kind of "a day in the life" every day...I've often said that someone should follow me around with a camera.  I compare myself to an American, female, Mr. Bean.  (My apologies, Mr. Bean.) Why shouldn't my frequent misadventures be public entertainment for the masses???  Oh, the cleverness of me!  I, eventually, fell asleep, but I'm pretty sure I was enamored with my blog concept all night.  I probably dreamt about how funny and cunning I would be EVERY. SINGLE. NIGHT.

This morning I realized three key challenges to the genius of my blog strategy:

1)  Life is pretty boring these days.  My kids are in school all day.  95% of the fun/funny/weird/blog-worthy things that happen in my life involve my quirky kids!  Since school started, I have found myself engaging in exciting activities such as: taking multiple selfies with my cat, working through 134 levels of candy crush saga, and re-organizing my lingerie armoire.  I feel nearly catatonic after sifting through the last three weeks for just those examples.  

2)  I hate Facebook posts in which people just run through their day.  You know the ones: "Got up ten minutes before my alarm today.  I don't know why I did that.  I got out of bed anyway.  Went to the gym.  Pretty good workout.  Ran errands all morning.  I spent two hours at Walmart.  They only had two registers open!  But when I got home, I made myself a really good spinach salad.  I put mandarin oranges in it.  I'm going to add almonds tomorrow.  Did some laundry.  Tonight I made spaghetti and we all ate in the living room and watched "The Cosby Show."  It was the one where Vanessa has the Halloween party but she won't talk to the boy she likes even though he likes her, too.  That's a good episode.  Put the kids to bed while the hubs watered the yard.  Now we're going to watch Seinfeld.  Blah, blah, blah, boring, blah."  

3)  Consistency is not my strong suit.  No, really.  

Still, I like the idea of having a definite subject to blog about.  One that COULD be blogged about daily (as if).  One that wouldn't require too much planning and could be easily skipped should another topic be preferable.  One that would just get me writing again.  One that would remind me of how much fun life is when you're looking for the laughter...

So.  Yeah.  I have no idea how to tie up this blog...which is a running problem for me.  My inability to finish what I've started is the reason why I have 32 conclusionless drafts just waiting to be finished and posted.  But, by golly, I'm posting this one.  Even though it's CRAP.  Because, well, because I need to finish something I started.

The end.

P.S.  I find it disturbing that spell check does not recognize Facebook, selfie, snarky, Walmart, or armoire.  "Conclusionless" should probably be hyphenated "conclusion-less,"  but I like it better hyphenless (which is also not recognized by spellcheck. FYI)  Geez.  Tighten up, spellcheck!

It's All Fun & Games Until Somebody (almost) Loses an Eye!

The Laundry:

Although I can think of many painful and horrifying consequences of doing laundry, I'm going to share with you one of my own hair-raising experiences.  It was a Sunday morning and I decided to throw in a load of whites before we headed to church.  Jason, of course, was already there, so it was just Bella, Lulu, and Bubba-Man (who was a baby at the time) at home with me.  I chucked the clothes in, poured in the appropriate amount of detergent, and began to measure out the bleach when the unthinkable happened...without warning, bleach splashed into my right eye.  The pain was immediate and excruciating!  I couldn't open my eye, but keeping it shut burned like fire as well.  I rushed into the kitchen where the kids were eating there breakfast, blissfully unaware of the horrifying torture I had only begun to endure.  Stifling my screams, I leaned over the sink and began frantically splashing water into my eye.  Not enough.  I turned my head sideways and let the cold water run straight into my eye.  After several minutes, I shut off the water and stood dripping onto the kitchen floor.  Nope.  Not enough.  I resumed the position and turned on the cold water.  Only then did it occur to me that water may not be the thing to do for bleach in the eye.  So, I did what any mother in my situation would do:  I remained draped over the sink, water flowing over my face, and gurgled directions at Bella.

"Honey, go in the laundry room and look at the bleach.  See if it says what to do if you get it in your eye," I said to my wide-eyed six year old.  Now, Bella has always been pretty intuitive, even as a six year old, she inferred that a mom with her head in the sink, running water over her face, needed help.  She ran off into the laundry room where she stayed for an excruciatingly long time.  

"What's bleach?"  she finally called from the hallway.

"It's in a white bottle on top of the dryer...it says, "Clorox" on it,"  I explained.  Her lack of response was not encouraging.  "What does it say???" I finally yelled after several more minutes had elapsed (was it too late to save my eye???).

"Ummm...Do you want me to bring it to you?" she hollered.

"No!  Yes!  No!  Is the lid on it?"  

"No.  Do you want me to PUT the lid on it?"

For pete's sake, I had my first grader handling the caustic chemical that was busily eating away at my eyeball!

"No!  Just...go help Lulu and Bub get ready for church."  

As soon as they had all three gone to the back of the house, I pulled my head out of the sink and made a mad dash for the laundry room...my eye molten lava behind the lid.  I screwed the lid on and carried the bleach back into the kitchen with me where I immediately plunged my face under running water again.  Then (and this is really the part that should have been videoed) I proceeded to read the back of the Clorox bottle (which, of course, WASN'T Clorox, but some off-brand...I just feel like I have typed "bleach" a thousand times already here...) with my good eye, head tilted sideways over the sink, water running into the bad eye, blinking rapidly since the water then ran right into my good eye (you know...the one I was trying to read with).  Clearly I didn't plan the procedure enough to have my injured eye on the bottom.  On top of that, I kept having to blow and sputter, since I was nearly drowning in the waterfall that was cascading over my face.  

I finally deciphered the label.  It said that bleach may cause damage to eyes. (No, REALLY?!?)  First aid:  rinse eye thoroughly. (Check!) Once eye is cleared of chemical, go to the emergency room.  (Presumably for eyeball removal.)  Ugh.  I hate the emergency room.  I detest it.  I LOATHE that place.  But, the bleach bottle said to go...and, after all, I assume they would know!  I left the sink long enough to grab a few paper towels, then I wet them and put the dripping wad on my eye.  I checked on the kids who were in various stages of readiness, then called our local hospital and asked to speak to a nurse.  When she came on the line, I bravely, but in great detail, explained my accident, burning pain, and subsequent first aid.  I told her that the Clorox bottle said that I should go directly to the ER.  The nerve of that nurse!  She didn't even pause to think about it, just told me that there was no need for me to come in and that I had probably already washed everything out of it.  "But, the bleach people...the bottle says to go straight to the ER..." I stammered.  "They probably have to put that for legal reasons," she assured me.  But, as I was hanging up the phone I was thinking, "Yeah, for when people SUE them for the LOSS of their EYEBALLS, lady!"  

I briefly considered calling back and asking to speak to a doctor.  After all, she was just a nurse.  She surely didn't have abundant experience with caustic laundry chemicals in the eye.  There are very few things I hate as much as feeling like an idiot, but feeling like a sissy is one of them.  I could already picture that nurse and her scrub clad cronies standing around the nurse's station laughing at me for calling...there was no way I could go in now, vision be damned!  

I managed to make it to church on time.  Make-up applied to one eye only (the injured eye wouldn't quit weeping, and, I was hoping people would notice, too).  My eye did not shrivel and die.  My vision remained intact.  Darn that smug little nurse!

Two important lessons were learned that day.  1)  Never call the emergency room.  If you are ill or injured enough to go to the ER, you will know it.  Besides, if you call, you will just doubt the validity of whatever advice they give you, anyway.  2)  Doing laundry is dangerous.  As much as possible, avoid doing it.  If you must launder (and can't afford to pay someone to take the risk for you), wear safety goggles.

Cleanliness Is Next to Godliness

Because if you aren't careful, you could meet your maker!

The Bathroom:

Last week, I nearly died scrubbing our shower.  It's true! I typically spray one wall of the shower, scrub it with the scouring side of the sponge, then scrub the grout with the toothbrush (I use Jason's, of course), rinse by turning on the shower, then finish by wiping it down with the soft side of the sponge...repeat until all walls, the door, the floor, and the ceiling have been done.  But, this time, something went horribly wrong.  I had only finished the ceiling and one wall when my lungs started burning.  I felt like I couldn't pull in enough air.  I realized that I had trapped myself in our tiny, coffin-like shower, I opened the door, hoping to suck in some sweet, fresh air.  Unfortunately, our bathroom is smaller than most standard closets and has no ventilation.  It wasn't until I managed to get out of our bathroom, our bedroom, and get clear down the hall that the air was breathable again.  Geez, I thought to myself, that cleaner is good stuff!  Chalk it up to excellent house wifery or just brain damage incurred from inhaling pure fumes for 20 minutes, but I went back in.  This time, I left our bedroom AND bathroom doors ajar, propped open our tiny bathroom's minuscule window, and left the shower door wide open.  This time, I got the floor finished and about a third of a second wall when I had to stumble, eyes burning, tears streaming down my cheeks, wheezing like I'd just run a quarter mile (I know...but I don't run, so...) all the way downstairs to get oxygen.  What if I had blacked out in there?  I shudder to think.   I went in armed with cleaner, a sponge, and a toothbrush  and left with burning, bloodshot eyes, a headache, and black-lung.  

Tune in next week to learn about the hidden dangers of laundry in part two of the "Cleanliness is Next to Godliness" series!

For What It's Worth

I took quite a bit of heat for a Facebook status I posted a few weeks ago.  I typed it so flippantly that I don't even remember specifically what it said.  But, it was something like this:  "Every touch is not bullying.  Every conflict is not bullying.  Ridiculous much?"  I was absolutely floored by how many people were deeply offended by that micro-rant. 

I am frustrated at how quickly the media cries "bullying" when a child commits suicide or goes on a shooting spree.  I am frustrated at how quickly parents cry "bullying" when their child has a conflict with another child, particularly at school.  It seems that bullying has developed a connotation that includes any clash between peers, even horseplay where the "victim" is a willing participant.  In contrast, its definition specifies intimidation and victimization.

According to Webster's Dictionary, bullying is:
bul·ly·ing[ bullee ing ]NOUN


1. intimidation of weaker person: the process of intimidating or mistreating somebody weaker or in a more vulnerable situation

Thesaurus

NOUN

Synonyms: intimidation, mistreatment, oppression, harassment, victimization, maltreatment, hounding

Our culture's rapidly expanding definition of bullying, when practically applied, includes name calling, teasing, arguments, and rough play.  If that is bullying, then who among us hasn't been bullied?  I feel that to broaden the meaning of the word so widely, makes it almost meaningless. It cheapens what children who are truly being victimized actually go through on a daily basis.  To cry "bully," when children have a conflict in school or when one child is unkind to another applies a damaging label to children who are just being children.  If we apply these same standards to people of all ages, then I am a bully...and, probably you are, too. 

So, let's discuss bullying.  There are several key elements that set bullying behavior apart from normal childhood conflict.  Bullying can occur between individuals, between groups, or between an individual and a group.  Bullying consists of three types of abuse:  emotional, verbal, and physical.  This abuse is doled out as a means of intimidation.  Key #1- intimidation.  Norwegian researcher Dan Olweus defines bullying as when a person is "exposed, repeatedly and over time, to negative actions on the part of one or more other persons," and goes on to explain such negative actions as being, "when a person intentionally inflicts injury or discomfort upon another person..."  Key #2- intention.  Bullying is constant and escalating.  Therefore, isolated or sporadic incidents of name calling, teasing, or even physical aggression, cannot be considered bullying.  Key #3 - chronic.  In summation, in order to be considered bullying, abuse may be any combination of emotional, verbal, and physical, but must be intentional, chronic, and designed to intimidate.
Researchers at the University of California at Riverside examined 153 studies from the last 30 years and found that both bullies and their victims both have poor social skills.  The same study found that more than anything else, poor academic performance predicts those who will bully.  Key #4- poor social/academic prowess. 

The fifth and final key element to bullying, is the victim.  Key #5- the victim.  In our culture, we are loathe to look to the victim for clues...we believe that victims are blameless.  But, in order to understand the problem of bullying, we must acknowledge that although the victims of bullying are in no way to blame for their victimization, they do, in fact, play a role.  Experts agree that bullying is cyclical behavior that includes an act of aggression on the part of the bully and a response by the target that is perceived by BOTH as a sign of submission.  Once both of these two elements manifest themselves, the bullying cycle often proceeds to feed on itself over time. The victim's response is so crucial, that if the bullying cycle is a new one, the intended target can often diminish the cycle or end it all-together simply by responding to attempted bullying with an attitude of clear self-confidence. The intended victim's response should demonstrate that he will not allow himself to be intimidated by the would-be bully.  However, if the intended target responds with an attitude of defeat, the bullying is likely to continue and intensify.  In saying that the reaction of a victim of bullying may invite further bullying, I want to be very clear that I am in no way implying that targets of bullies are "asking for it," or that they are responsible for protecting themselves if they are being bullied.  I am only suggesting that there are ways to help students respond to bullying that will empower them and even short-circuit the bullying cycle.  Therefore, it is very important for families, schools, teachers, counselors, etc. help students not to see themselves as victims and to coach them on how to respond should they be bullied. 

During one recent conversation on bullying, I was expressing my compassion for kids who have been labelled as "bully."   The person I was discussing it with disagreed.  He said that he doesn't feel bad for bullies because, "some kids are just bad kids."  I certainly understand feeling that way.  I have been known to villain-ize other kids when they were making my kids miserable.  But, when it comes right down to it, all people are precious to the God Who created them and gave His only Son to die for them.  So, who are we to write them off with a flippant wave of our hand?  So careless.  So cocky to believe that our own children would never, COULD never bully another child or even be accused of such a thing.  We all love our own children.  We see the best in them.  We are foolish to believe that everybody is going to see in them what we do.
  
So, what if it was MY child that other people had labeled:  "bad kid,"  "lost cause," "bully," "too difficult?"  

What if that child was yours?

We Haven't "Broken Up..." Facebook and I are Just on a "Break"

Yes, it's true (gasp!), I am taking a break from Facebook.  As you know, I am an avid Facebook poster...mainly because, let's be honest, I think I'm hilarious.  However, it has recently been (quite forcefully and painfully) brought to my attention that some people do NOT find me funny in the least.  In fact, several people lately find my posts hurtful and even mean.  Since it has never been my intention to hurt people, I decided to deactivate my Facebook account for the time being.  I'm sure I will be back on Facebook soon. 

I'm sure some of you are wondering what I'm going to do with so much extra time on my hands.  Well, I have a few ideas...

1)  I'm going to reorganize my scrapbooking materials!  That way, if I ever take a break from cooking or laundry, everything will be good to go and I can scrap to my heart's content.

2)  I will be posting a ridiculous number of pictures to instagram.  Okay, I already post a ridiculous number of pictures...I will be posting an obscene number of pictures to instagram. 

3)  I will have to resort to texting and making phone calls as my main mode of communication, so I'm sure that will take up a chunk of time.  I hope you will all enjoy the random texts you get from me about my day and the funny things my children say and do.  (Here's a head's up:  these are thinly disguised pleas for affirmation...please gush accordingly.  Resistance is futile.)

4) Because I vent/rant frequently on Facebook, I'm going to not only have free time on my hands, but also some aggression to work through.  In order to kill two birds with one stone, I'll be exercising on a daily basis. 

4)  I am going to save up my tidbits of cleverness, quirky stories, and miserable failures and channel them into more frequent blog posts! 


So, Facebook, I'm sure that I will miss you more than you will miss me, but, until we meet again, may my time be more productive and less offensive!

Top Ten Ways You Can Tell That Bella's Home From College

10.  There are long...really long...brown hairs EVERYWHERE.
 9.  The kids' shower drain has become unbearably slow...it appears to be blocked by a bird's nest of brown       hair.
 8.  There are delicious smells wafting from the kitchen.
 7.  The whole family takes extra care with their grammar.
 6.  The smell of Lysol and various other disinfectants is in the air.
 5.  The two little girls are looking decidedly less orphanish and Buttercup, Princeska, & Lulu are sporting ADORABLE dos daily!
 4.  We are all using phrases like, "Just like a Nazi!"  "Well aren't you just the cat's pajamas?" and "Loose lips sink ships!"
 3.  Every time I vacuum, I hear the clatter of hundreds of bobby pins rattling around in my sweeper...
 2.  We see victory rolls every day without even turning on the t.v.

And the number one way you can tell that Bella's home from college is......

 1.  We laugh a LOT more!

The Apple Doesn't Fall Far From the Ole Tree

Or...

Like Mother Like Daughter

Or...

A Chip of the Old Block

Or...

Genetically Predispositioned to Creative Hilarity

Or...

I Hope She Blogs More Than the Mother!

Yes, MY BELLA BABY IS BLOGGING! Read on, dear friends...

http://fanfarefortheuncommongirl.blogspot.com/