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Hungry for More

15 Apr

I finished The Hunger Games book last month but couldn’t get out to see the movie until this weekend. I stayed up way past my bedtime to catch the 10 p.m. flick with my friend, Allison. After 20 minutes of trailers and such, the two hour, twenty minute adventure began.

I loved every minute of it. In fact, I wish they would’ve added a few more minutes to it to capture more of my beloved scenes from the book (Rue and also Katniss’ struggle for water). I suppose a three hour movie would be quite ridiculous.

It is so very rare that I like a movie as much as I like the book. I’m relieved this did not disappoint. There were a few scenes I played out differently in my mind but it didn’t take away from the movie at all. (I still acted them out in my head the way I wanted to as I watched.) I really enjoyed watching fresh actors in the main roles. I also really dug that the perspective of the Capitol was added. It gave an interesting look at that side.

I left there close to 1 a.m. wanting to rush home and open the second book. I waited so the story would feel more chronological to me. I’ve heard people say the second and third books aren’t as good. I’m trying to block that from my thoughts because I want to love them like I do the first.

Less bloggy, more read.

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Storm Luvah: Whatevah

3 Mar

Me, awake in fear, to Andrew: I hate weather like this.

Andrew, mostly asleep: I love it. (Goes back to sleep.)

Me: That doesn’t help me.

***

I wish I could have a shot glass amount of his (all-natural) no stress attitude.

Seriously though, how do people “love it”? I really think it’s all talk to help them not be afraid. They are trying to convince themselves to not be scared out of their skin each time the ground and house rattles with a larger-than-life, out of our control, boom from nature. I’d rather not poke an angry bear. “Nah, nah, nah! I’m not afraid of you!” BOOM. I feel bad enough downplaying my fear to the kids to help ease their fears. Maybe you storm luvahs are just trying to be the calm, sane one in the room?

If you really do “love storms” and can “sleep so well through them” (like I’ve heard people say), please tell me what specifically it is about the flashes of fierce light, rumbles of sky, and wind that tears trees and houses to pieces that you adore so much. It may help my stress level.

That is, if you can get me out from under the covers.

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Daddy’s Got a Gun

11 Feb

And he knows how to use it.

Ok, ok, ok. Before I begin, I must make a few things clear.

  • I do not consider myself a perfect parent. I make mistakes. A lot. I also will be the first to admit I don’t know what I’m doing. Who in the world really “knows” how to be a parent anyway?
  • I am not anti-gun. If you want to own a gun, you own that gun. I may or may not own a gun. That’s for me and a would-be burglar or the end of the world zombie to find out. Whether I know how to use it or not, well, I may or may not have a gun.

Back to the dad and his gun. If you don’t know what I’m talking about I promise I won’t laugh at you for being out of the social media loop this past week. (I actually might be jealous of you because you haven’t been exposed to the excitement around the video. And now, I will ruin that for you.)

Basically, a teenage daughter vents on facebook about her parents and the chores she has to do using bad words and typical teen angst. She apparently has been punished for this before so the dad, understandably, has had it. He reads her facebook vent to the camera and then shoots her laptop eight times so that she will now have to earn back her privileges. To see the whole thing for yourself:


I am fine with the fact that he is upset and wants to punish her. I just feel like I’m in the minority of those who may not support the way he went about it – or their “way to go/great parenting” spirit. Again, I’m not targeting the gun – for me, it’s more about the destruction and the possible public embarrassment to his daughter that he created. Sure, he may have felt upset and embarrassed by her vent but he is the adult. How is what he did better than what she did? What example did he set? Have a problem? Destroy it. I’ve seen people comment that he should have donated the laptop. I agree. That shows respect and consideration of others. Seems like a good teaching lesson.

My other issue is it must be challenging to parent in today’s social media world. I am so grateful I didn’t have facebook when I was teen. The things I wrote in my diary were awful. I vented a lot. And now I have a wonderful relationship with my parents. If they acted like this father did should they happen to read my vents, I don’t think I would regret my writings, but resent my parents for crushing me like that. I was a teen. TEEN. Not an adult. There’s supposed to be a difference there, right?

My last concern with this whole thing is my conspiracy theory mind can’t help but think this dad is doing this all for publicity for his book and his company. (His facebook page is quite a popular place and it was really easy for me to find his book on Amazon.)

Yeah, I said it was my conspiracy theory mind.

I suppose I just needed to vent myself. Some of you may agree but I have a feeling many more of you will not – I just hope any of you who disagree keep my laptop out of your sights.

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Wasted Worry

31 Jan

There’s no rest for the weary.

That’s what Andrew has told me. We both know the saying has more to do with those who work a lot and are tired but he said it to me because of the constant worry I weigh on myself.

I’m starting to force myself to realize that some (most) of my worry wastes my heart and soul. Especially after days like today where Nate got a behavior note home or other days when the kids have fevers or Andrew is told he needs to travel for work or is laid off or the car breaks down or sad news comes in a phone call from family. All of those things slap me in the face as a wake up call of things that justify worry. Things that don’t justify worry are things like another day or work, commuting, homework, grades, headaches, cleaning and what’s for dinner. Sure, I should care about all of that but I shouldn’t let those things dictate my emotions.

No rest for the weary. And no smiles on days filled with wasted worry.

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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.

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Innocence and Danger

5 Dec

It used to be breaking news would go over my children’s heads. Used to be, breaking news wouldn’t even be on TV because we’d have on a channel just for kids that never showed crawls or news cut-ins. Now though, my children are getting older and they are more perceptive and are sponges for information. Constantly questioning, reading things and figuring out what their parents are trying to secretly spell out in front of them.

This all became very evident to me this weekend while we were watching “It’s a Wonderful Life” on an Atlanta TV station. Our 5-year-old started to read the crawl at the bottom of the screen. The crawl was about a little girl, Jorelys Rivera from Canton, Ga., who was missing. “Three or four feet tall. Blue jeans and pink shirt,” our son read. Our 8-year-old daughter, only one year older than Jorelys, asked about her. What happened? Where is she? Where was she? Where is her mom? We answered the questions that we could and talked to them about how police thought she was taken from near her apartment’s playground. I stressed the need to be cautious of strangers, not really knowing if this was a stranger issue or not, just trying to reinforce to them about safety while we were on the subject.

I didn’t really think it would all register to them. Still at ages where the next few hours are what’s on their mind, I was quite surprised to hear my daughter say unprovoked after church on Sunday, “I think I saw that little missing girl in church today. She was sitting in front of us.” I told her that I thought that was very smart of her to be looking for the girl but I didn’t think that was her. She didn’t meet the description good enough. My daughter asked, “I wonder if they found her.”

She was really thinking about this.

How was I going to tell her what happened to Jorelys? That they found the sweet baby girl’s body on Monday. Should I? Would it scare her too much? But, sadly, terribly, it’s what happened. She should know. She cared about Jorelys. A girl who could have been my daughter’s friend. She carried her purse and diary to the playground like my daughter would have. So innocent and sweet. Like all our children.

I told her and my son. I didn’t get detailed. Just that I had sad news. They found the missing girl. I let the questions start, “Is she ok? Was she hurt? Where was she? Was she killed? Was she shot? How did she die? Who did it? But she was only seven.”

I told them that sometimes people are mean or not right and will hurt others, even kids. Police are now trying to figure out who did it. That the only people who really know now are Jorelys and the person who hurt her. “And God,” my daughter said. “And Santa,” my son added. “Santa knows.”

A child’s perspective of something so serious and sad. I explained that it doesn’t matter if Santa knows. This is bigger than Santa but his young mind was determined, “But that person who hurt her was not nice.”

Yes, buddy, you’re right. Not nice at all. The perspective of a child trying to figure out such a scary and heartbreaking situation is so confusing. I can’t even imagine what she thought. I wish she didn’t have to think it. Too young. So innocent. Only seven. With her purse and diary.

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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.

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Stress-mares

15 Nov

With the known disclaimer that I am not a licensed professional with years of education behind me and a Ph.D. or some respected title after my name, I am diagnosing myself with a chronic case of stress-mares.

These things started a few days ago and have returned nightly. Here’s a synopsis of each one I remember:

    • I was pregnant and had a another little girl. (I am NOT.) I immediately knew it wasn’t real because the baby in the dream had hair. (Both Baby Nia and Baby Nate were hair challenged.)
    • Suffered through alien sickness complete with special effects and gross out moments that I will never be able to completely erase from my memory. (I blame my yuck cold and NyQuil for this dream.)
    • Nia failed a test. I have zero clue why this would be stressing me out. She is a responsible and engaged top student and – why am I worried anyway? It’s not my test and as Andrew comforted me, “Well, it’s going to happen.” Cue second stress-mare.
    • My car wouldn’t start. Just thinking about that one freaks me out. The panic I felt as I kept trying to start it. No idea why. It’s not like I was trying to escape a murdering maniac or anything. Just couldn’t start my car.

I realize these aren’t typical scary dreams. For me though, they are concerns I’ve had at one point or another and now I can’t even shake them in my sleep.

Can’t wait to see what fear invades my subconscious tonight. Hopefully it’s not the one involving …

 

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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.

 

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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.

 

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