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State of the Union: A Child’s View

25 Jan

Past her bedtime and above her school subject matter, Nia cuddled her teddy bear as she watched the State of the Union with us. The post below features her commentary. Please keep in mind she’s 8 years old, her daddy is passionate about government issues and her mommy should really not even be answering questions about it. Then again, maybe Nia will help me learn a thing or two.

***

How old is the president? He looks in his 30’s. You guys look like you’re in your 20’s. He looks like maybe 32 or 35.

***

He’s not afraid to talk in front of all those people? Every seat is filled. Is everyone there from Congress?

***

There’s the First Lady! Does the woman next to the First Lady know the camera is on her?

***

That guy (in the audience) is crooked smiling. Why?

***

Without teachers, who would teach you? That’s what he’s saying.

***

That man had a “D” next to his name.

Me: Do you know what that stands for?

Dem – dem – demo…

Me: Do you know what the “R” stands for?

Revolutionary War?

(We then told her the correct names.)

***

Andrew: There’s Senator Rockefeller. He’s from West Virginia.

Is he your friend?

***

I think Obama is a good president.

Andrew: Why?

Because he smiles when he talks.

(Andrew discussed why that is nice and may show that he’s a good person but there’s more involved with being a good president.)

***

Why isn’t that man smiling?

Me: Maybe he doesn’t agree with what President Obama is saying.

Maybe he’s a Republican. Not a – what’s it called? – a dem – dem – democracy? Dem something.

Me: Democrat.

I was close! I said democracy!

***

For a speaker, he’s not speaking at all.

 Me: You mean the Speaker of the House? Well, it doesn’t really work that way and it’s not his turn.

***

Me: (just curious about her response) Should a person who makes one million dollars give 30% of it away?

No. They should give 50%. Half.

Andrew: Should they be forced to give it or do it because they want to?

Because they want to.

Andrew: Why?

Because it’s the right thing to do.

Andrew: What if they chose not to give? Should they be forced to give?

No. They just aren’t nice people though.

Andrew: A Libertarian is born!

What does that mean?! I don’t know what that means! (Laughing.)

***

They are all clapping.

Me: That’s because he quoted Abraham Lincoln and people like Lincoln.

Everyone should.

***

That guy had an “I” by his name. What’s that mean?

Me: Independent Party. Democrat and Republican are the big ones and then there’s the Independent and Libertarian Parties. Daddy, and even mommy, consider ourselves Libertarian.

Is that what me and Nate are?

Me: That will be up to you, baby. When you grow up, you will decide that.

Can you be more than one Party?

Me: It’s all in what you believe. If you agree with different things from each then yes. Or you may believe with one Party more but like a person from a different one because you think he/she will make a good leader.

Can you be all of them?

Me: It’s fine to change your mind.

***

Interrupted 85 times? By who?

Me: The applause.

Oh. (Chuckle.) They must love Obama, huh?

Me: Some do, yes.

***

He kissed all the girls. He’s just kissing random girls!

Me: What do you think about that?

It’s how some people give peace, like we do in church.

(This made me cry.)

***

Could kids be there now?

Me: Probably. Would you want to be there?

Yes, to meet Barack Obama.

The Shopping Dead

26 Nov

They came out in the still of the holiday night. A chill was in the air. They loaded into their cars, armed with extra store coupons, a list of must-haves, caffeine and attitude. The people they were just minutes before were consumed with the desire to find the best deal. Black Friday Fever had possessed them and it wasn’t going to let go until they were finished loading up their shopping carts, swiping their plastic money and spreading rudeness like it was a lingering heavy perfume.

Tear it up!

I’m not saying this is the case for allday after Thanksgiving shoppers. Some were quite pleasant. They must be immune to the fever. Maybe the others act like this on a daily basis. Clearing throats instead of saying excuse me. Yelling at others for not driving the way they want them to drive. Checking out one item at a time while a line of other shoppers grumbles behind you. Tearing through folded clothes like you were looking for the one diamond in millions of Christmas tree icicles. Leaving empty cups of coffee on store shelves like they were trash cans. Rolling over hangered clothes that fell off the rack, never thinking twice about picking it up.

And that wasn’t even close to the worst concerning the lack of manners and zero sense of decency. The majority of media reports told of a range of horrors, including one where a woman pepper-sprayed other shoppers to get her hands on an Xbox.

What makes people act in such a way? Greed? Desperation? The need to keep up with the ones who don’t have to shop for deals? Just the lure of the good deal? A most-for-the-money mentality?

I am guilty of being out in it that day (and past days). I try to laugh my way through the lunacy. I read about my friends’ sale successes on Facebook and how they had a fine time getting their low price products. Typical shoppers do exist among the shopping dead. How refreshing. Go forth and try to always shop with a peaceful, kind and courteous consumer heart.

Conflicted Over a Crime

1 Oct

Nia recently witnessed a crime. She told me about it very casually as I tucked her in for bedtime. In between her prayers and happy thoughts we talk about so she has sweet dreams, she said:

“I saw someone steal a toothbrush today at the grocery store. A dad took it out of the wrapper and gave the wrapper to his little girl to throw away and then he put the toothbrush in his pants.”

She told me she heard the rip of the wrapper and that’s what got her attention to look that way. I was right there with her but I didn’t notice it. I probably was deep in thought comparing bread ingredients or some such grocery store necessity. She said she’s not sure why she didn’t point it out to me or tell me then.

I’m really surprised about that too. She always tells me all sorts of things. Things I don’t necessarily want to know about what her friends say and do and everything her little brother does to annoy her. The time she should speak up to me, for whatever reason, she doesn’t. I’m actually not even sure what I would’ve done had she told me at the time.

Would I confront him? Unlikely. I’m not the confronting strangers type. Would I tell the grocery store employees? I should, right? They are stealing. But then I think of the little girl. Do I want to cause her any more trouble or hardship than she already may be experiencing? Also, it’s just a toothbrush. Maybe the dad’s mad at the high prices and is making a point? Still doesn’t make it right though… What would you do? Would you confront or report?

I talked to Nia about it, in case it ever happens again. She knows that taking something that isn’t yours – or that you haven’t paid for – is wrong. We also talked about some things that may cause people to steal and how I can sometimes understand why someone in a desperate circumstance would feel they have no other choice. That starts getting confusing for an 8-year-old. Especially one who just watched a little girl about her age have to do as her daddy said and help him steal.

My little girl witnessed a crime but what’s more sad to me is that another little girl was involved in one.

 

My Dolphin Tale

24 Sep

Sniff. Sniff. Shaking, chin wrinkle sob. Rub on the back and arm hug from sweet Nia. Yes, I loved Dolphin Tale and I’m so proud of myself for not letting my anxiety with crowded theaters get the best of me.

First, the movie. Nia and I loved it. I can’t reveal her favorite part because it would then reveal some key moments (but it involves something that happens near the end). I’m pretty sure Nate’s favorite part was popcorn and the end. It just wasn’t his cup. He got a bit antsy during the adult conversation and plot development scenes. Maybe too deep for theater viewing for some children ages 5 and under. Of course, his 35-year-old father thought it went a bit long too so again, it depends on your cup. Nia and I were in movie watching heaven.

That is, except for the fact that I don’t do well in crowded theaters. I start feeling dizzy and have trouble breathing as the people pile in and chose seats around me. This was especially difficult because we got there early and it’s opening weekend so there wasn’t an empty seat. When the people sat next to me, I nervously smiled and then felt better when she smiled back and made small talk about how lucky they were to get those seats.

No kidding.

They weren’t the groups who came in late and made others move and miss movie moments. Those same people then got up halfway through to get a snack. Another movie moment missed. On the flip of that though, I really loved the woman in front of us who shouted out in reaction to a scene from the movie and then was the first to applaud at the end. Joyous. Love that.

A tale around a tale. Based on a true story.

 

And then she asked about September 11th

8 Sep

I don’t like to talk about it. People share their stories about where they were – what they were doing – how they reacted – how it made them feel – and I think that’s fine. I just would rather not share. If asked, I will. But, if people are in a group and talking about it – I choose to listen. I think, what does it really matter? Where I was? Recently though, I’ve talked about it more than I have in the past 10 years.

The television station I used to work for asked if they could interview me (along with others who were working on that day) to talk about what it was like for us. Because I want to help my old station, I said sure. (Here is that interview.) My memory of my events on that day is blurry but I remember enough to talk a bit about it. It wasn’t until Nia asked me about it that I realized – I’m going to have to talk about this. But not about where I was and what I was doing – actually about it. The heartbreaking tragedies.

It began all because her school called and reminded us to wear red, white and blue for their Patriot Day recognition. She told me, “That’s because planes crashed into the obelisks in Washington D.C.” I asked her where she learned that and she said her teacher told the class about it. Say what you want about Georgia public education but I am sure her teacher did not have that wrong and said New York City. That was the way an 8-year-old heard what her teacher taught. Her teacher taught about the memorials along with the events – Nia heard what she heard.

I proceeded to tell Nia what happened, to make sure she understood. Four planes with many people on them crashed into two very tall buildings in New York City called the World Trade Center Twin Towers, the Pentagon and a field in Pennsylvania. So many people died, Bean. So many. Here’s what happened during/after my explanation:

Five-year-old Nate was just getting out of the bath – he was chewing gum and was naked. He started blowing a whistle. Nia asked, “Didn’t the pilots see the buildings?”

I had to pause to think about how to tell her. “Well, you see, people who don’t like the United States, people call them terrorists, made the planes crash.”

Nate returns to blow the whistle, naked, after I just shooed him away. “Why didn’t the pilots tell them to go away?”

“Because the other people had things to hurt the pilots and took over.” In that same breath, I tell Nate to get dressed for the third time.

“Did everyone from the U.S. on the plane die?”
“Yes, baby, but there were more than just people from the U.S. on those planes and in those buildings.”

Nate, now getting dressed, chimes in with concern for the first time, “Did daddy die?”
“No, buddy, daddy’s not dead. But many families lost their daddies and mommies and even children in this.”

Nia adds a new thought, “Did the buildings break in half?”
“Kind of, yes. They collapsed.”
“Did they fall on other buildings near them and kill those people too?” Nia asks with more worry in her voice.
“Um, well, I’m not sure about that. There were so many people in those two big buildings, Bean. I don’t know about the nearby buildings.”
“How many?
“Thousands. How many are in your school?”
“Like, 800 or something.”
“Well, it would be almost four of your schools. That’s how many people died in those buildings.”
“Oh. My.”
Nate brings us back to kid speak, “What state were the buildings?”
“New York.”
“Spiderman lives in New York. Did he die too?”

No. You don’t get to read my response to that. Sigh.

I went from not wanting to talk about it, to really talking about it. Where were you when you told a child about it? I can’t even imagine the children who lost loved ones – or the ones who watched it happen. It’s so very difficult – and it hurts. I will never forget. Because of the loss and sadness – of course – but also because I think I’m going to be clarifying quite a few things with them over the years. I’m so – deeply – sorry.

Ten years on Sunday for many of us. Time has stopped for those who were just going about their daily lives at those places or had to say goodbye. I will remember.

A Driver Wishlist – For Safety and Sanity

8 Sep

Putting aside the obvious and perpetual wish of never getting into a serious accident, may you:

Conveniently and safely stall on the side of the road and not in the fast lane on the interstate.

Be quickly and miraculously aided by a passing tow truck so you don’t have to wait for an hour (plus) on that side of the road.

Never get a flat tire while moving.

Never have to change that flat tire yourself. (Unless you really, really like changing flat tires on the side of the road.)

Always have the driver behind you who’s keeping a safe distance and paying attention in the purse-just-spilled-all-over-floor sudden braking scares.

Always have more than a quarter tank of gas and quarters in your console to pay for that unexpected toll booth.

Never get passed on the right – in an on/off ramp – by a lunatic driver. If you do though, may you pull up next to that lunatic driver at the stop light to give him/her a thumbs up and a smile for getting real far.

Never encounter someone with more dangerous road rage than you. (Especially after triggering it with the action above.)

Have plenty of windshield wiper fluid to remove the biggest of bug guts or bird droppings that just splat in your line of sight.

Only be entertained with three constant, forgotten blinkers a week. The – are you coming over? Yes? No? I’m going to  get in front of you and signal to nowhere to help you get a clue – moments can be fun. I especially love when the driver signals left but then merges right. Fun times.

Never – ever – get behind a man spitting sunflower seed shells out of his truck window at 60 mph. It was like a germy BB gun. Blech.

Never experience the grossest coffee of your life with 50 minutes still left to drive on a five to seven lane interstate.

At least once – have a dragonfly happily dance around your car as you inch it mile by mile forward in bumper-to-bumper traffic.

Know the joys of driving barefoot. With one leg up on the seat. The windows down and no seeds, smoke or diesel smell ruining your fresh breeze. Oh yeah, and Madonna’s “Cherish” (or other happy song of choice) blasting from your car’s small speakers. And – of course – tasty coffee with a healthy side of all of the above.

 

Pet Peeve Vent

20 Jul

I’m not going to pretend I don’t have a lot of pet peeves. There are quite a few things that irk me. One of my favorite annoyances triggers my brain to automatically say to itself, “No. Lie to me…” when someone says, “To tell you the truth,” or “To be honest with you.” Why do you need to prepare me that you’re going to tell me the truth? Do you usually lie about things?

I could go on and on and sound way more persnickety and like I never say or do anything wrong but I don’t want to reveal all my peeves, imperfections and snarkiness in one post. The main peeve of this post involves a letter of the alphabet. It’s an innocent letter actually. I’m fairly certain that it never intended to inflame my nerves whenever I see it (mis)used in this certain way. It’s just a letter after all. A simple letter. The last letter. The letter Z.

Again, Z by itself is just peachy. It’s when people start adding it to words relating to educational facilities for children that makes me want to copy-edit their signs with a red pen.

I will never be able to comfortably choose a school that uses the Z instead of an S for one of the kids. They make their living/business off teaching young minds ABCs and how to spell. Also, I often wonder if they would hire a teacher who wrote a word on the application with a Z instead of an S? “My skillz include…” Why wouldn’t they hire that person? They set the standard with the giant sign out in front of the building.

I must add that I really don’t mind the use of Z instead of S in casual conversations/situations. In fact, I once called myself Nikki Sweetz when writing a sex column in college. (One of my cooler accomplishments in life.) This Z peeve solely surrounds educational facilities. You know, schoolz and stuff.

A Man and His Bible

4 Jun

He’s there the same time each day – standing near a busy intersection in our small town. I don’t know his name. I don’t know his history. I only know what I see. A man with many years behind him, a life lived, reading aloud from the Bible.

Reading is actually an understatement though. He is more, announcing it to us. To make sure we hear it. We may not always understand it, but we hear it.

I rolled down our windows as we kept going on our way. Listening to him for the length of the red light. Nia noted how he was reading without looking at the words. She told me, “He must go to church a lot, huh?” I replied, “Or he just reads from the Bible a lot.” “But he’s not reading it, mommy. He knows it.”

And he wants us to know it too.

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Sharing the Word

They Died for Our Freedom

29 May

Right? And the freedom of others? Protection? Safety? Honor. Country. NOT store savings.

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Makes me sad.

I have a huge amount of respect for stores that do not advertise Memorial Day sales. I’m interested to know when it all began. I’d like to think it started as a tribute to our troops. Good intentions, maybe? It still seems wrong to me though. I suppose we as a society fuel the discount days. We take advantage of it. I suppose some troops do too?

As long as we remember why we are getting those great deals.

Because so many died for our freedom.

I am forever grateful and broken-hearted for our military families and hope that Nia and Nate will always remember the true meaning of our “day off.”

Grosser than gross …

26 May

but real and kind of humorous.

That’s how I would describe the accidental discovery I recently spotted in a ladies’ room stall.

I walked in and saw that the can labeled “not a trash receptacle” was open. In this particular ladies’ room, this receptacle (such a smart word) is meant to hold clean bags to allow for proper disposal of, you know, girl stuff. I went to close it (because things such as this tend to bother me) and upon doing so, noticed the contents. Don’t worry, I’ll spare you the unsightly details but this is what struck me as appropriately funny.

There, obviously, was trash in the non-trash can. That trash included:

  • A used girl thing that shall not be named
  • A piece of chewed gum
  • An empty pain pill packet
  • And – an empty Heath chocolate bar wrapper

Yes, I was grossed out. But also entertained. I mean, it all makes sense. All of those things are often necessary during that time. Even flipping off the not-a-trash-can sign. “You’re not gonna tell me what to do!”

I actually think the grossest part of it all is that it’s likely that candy bar was eaten in that stall.

Whoa. Must have been a BAD day.

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