The Truth About Parenting.

Frequently, I look around at the chaos all around me and think to myself, "Why didn't anyone tell me this parenting thing would be so hard?" Parenting is difficult. I mean really, REALLY difficult. I had no idea how many different FEELINGS I would be forced to feel and deal with in a single day. I mean seriously, daily struggles with highs, lows, and in-betweens that I never knew existed. Even a single minute could be filled with love and hate almost simultaneously. WHY DON'T THEY TELL YOU THIS WHEN YOU SIGN UP FOR THE JOB?!?!?! Ok, some try, but no one succeeds in expressing just how INSANE the whole thing is. I guess that's just how it is when you are responsible for another human being. Am I doing the best thing? Am I doing the worst thing? Is this helping? Hurting? What could I do differently? What should I keep the same next time? Is this even making a difference? Should I bother? But what if I don't? Will that be helpful, or harmful...

it.never.ends.

Happiness - Kids playing.
Joy - Kids laughing.
Anger - Kid 1 hit Kid 2.
Fear - Kid 2 is hurt.
Irritation - Kid 2's screaming is getting on your nerves.
Frustration - neither Kid 1 nor Kid 2 will respond to you.
Relief - Kid 2 is no longer hurt.
Content - Kids are playing again.
Excitement - Kids are playing with you and having fun.
Pride - Kid 1 is helping Kid 2 with no interference from you.
Sadness - Kid 3 just woke up and will not be consoled.
...

Ok. 5 minutes down.1435 to go...

To parents-to-be, someday-parents, and brand new parents, hear this now. This is the most exhausting, energizing, challenging, rewarding, exhilarating, frightening, enlightening, horrible, wonderful, stupid, intelligent, back-breaking, heart-wrenching, mind-boggling, hand-wringing, life-altering, death-defying, soul-searching, physical, intellectual, spiritual adventure you could ever - make that, never - imagine. Do it. You will not be sorry...except on days that you are. And even then, you'll get over it.

To all current parents: Keep fighting the good fight, brothers and sisters. One day, your kids will become parents. They will ask you what it is like to be a parent. Don't tell them. They won't believe you anyway.

Intelligence.

I used to be intelligent.
I once knew the meaning of large words
Which now escape me.
There was a time when I could enter
A conversation on politics and history
And understand the connection
Between the two.
When I was much younger
I had a firm grasp
On physics and math
And things of that sort.
I knew grammar terms and usage
And I laughed at those who didn't.
Now, I am mom.
I know when someone uses incorrect grammar
But I can't tell you why
Or what part of speech they used.
I know where I stand, politically
Sort of
But I really couldn't tell you why
In any convincing manner.
I don't remember how many presidents we have had.
I don't remember the capital of South Dakota.
Mathematical symbols have escaped me.
And spell-check has become my crutch.
But for all I've forgotten,
I've learned a great deal in "mom."
I've learned what HCG is
And that you must have at least 25 ug/ml in your urine
Before you see those two blue lines.
I know the difference between a cramp and a contraction.
I can talk to my body and my baby
And control the intensity of my own labor
With complete confidence, control, and calmness.
I have learned the difference
Between a hungry cry and a peepee cry.
I know that kisses cure owies
If you get just the right spot.
And I know where that spot is.
I know that "My yove yoo" means "I love you,"
And that "Go away" means "Thanks, but I've got this."
I know how to communicate with my children without words.
I realize that this is sometimes better.
I've learned that I'm wrong.
A lot.
I've learned not to laugh at people who don't have all the answers;
Those who don't know how to spell
Or that it's "there" not "their"
Or that people "run quickly", they don't "run fast,"
Because although they might have lost these facts
They may have knowledge that is far beyond my comprehension.
They have feelings.
They deserve respect.
I forget this a lot.
But I've learned to remember.
Perhaps I can't talk about politics.
Perhaps I can't relate to "The 99%" or "The 1%"
Or even know why they do what they do.
Maybe I say the wrong word now and then
Or just sit in senseless silence
Because vocabulary has momentarily died in my brain.
But I'm still ok.
I have new facts.
I have new knowledge that transcends facts.
I used to be intelligent.
And despite outward appearances,
I still am.

All You Need is Love (dun da da da da)...

I just want to say that WHOEVER is reading this blog is my FAVORITE person on Earth. I think you are the absolute BEST parent, BEST son or daughter, and overall BEST person who ever existed. I am but dirt at your feet, unworthy of your greatness, and I scourge myself 3 times a day simply because I FAIL at being YOU. Thank you SO much for reading my lowly blog and bestowing your time and attention, however fleeting, upon me and my humble existence, O Great One. You can do or say no wrong, and I bow to your greatness.






















Argue with THAT, motherfuckers.

The Process of De-Parent-Ing

Yeah, so I totally made that word up. It's the only way I can describe what I see as a necessary process in raising our culture's kids. In an era of convenience and efficiency, children have become, according to most in our culture, a "difficulty." Wander through a bookstore and you will see dozens of titles related to methods of either controlling or fixing our children. Coupled with a misconstrued interpretation of religious values in a largely Christian culture, we seem to have the idea that children somehow start off damaged in some way, and nearly every parenting choice we make is some kind of effort to solve the problem of children. From birth, we are told to "encourage" our children to develop properly - tummy time, classical music, baby Einstein; black and white contrasting circles and stripes for newborns to stimulate their senses, bright, primary colors for infants and toddlers, tactile stimulation...only use certain words, foods, and activities to mimic their developmental stages...as if by NOT doing these things our children will fail to develop and remain perpetual infants! We are told how to teach them to roll over, crawl, walk, talk, read, write, and count to 10 - and we are offered a number of educational toys to help us do so. We are (unintentionally?) brainwashed to think that kids need us to make them develop normally. We are told that Mother Nature has no idea what she is doing, and that we must take over, for the good of our children.

This...is...bullshit.

There are a number of things that children will do, all on their own. With absolutely no prompting from us, children will:

1. Grow
2. Develop
3. Learn
4. Play
5. Eat
6. Sleep
7. Heal
8. Reproduce (eventually)
9. Empathize
10. Love

I promise.


We are a society that values individuality, efficiency, and competition. I'm not saying that these are bad qualities - but unchecked and unbalanced, they simply do not allow for children. We are a society focused on "getting things done" - getting to the end product - with, all-too-often, complete disregard for the method we use for doing so, when, in fact, this method is every bit as important as the final result. We have lost the value of leisure, pleasure, and even simple existence itself. We push our children aside and say, "Here, let me do that for you," instead of saying things like, "Please help me do this." The problem is NOT that our children want to help us wash the dishes, even though we are apparently (for some unknown reason other than the importance of washing dishes) in a terrible hurry; the problem is that we place too much value in breakable dishes.

When my child has a tantrum, it is not my job to put an end to it. He will not tantrum forever. He WILL (as long as I don't interfere with the process) learn to regulate his emotions through social learning and the natural development of brain cells. It is my job to see him through it. It is my job to find out why he is upset (because there is ALWAYS a reason) and it is my job to either help him accept the problem, help him find a solution to the problem, or just let him be upset about the problem for as long as he needs to. It is NOT my job, as a parent, to try and distract him, pacify him, discipline him, train him, or otherwise shut him up for the sake of not disturbing other people (who probably could do with a little more patience and self-regulation themselves) or in order to produce "well-behaved" children (which is something that has become a bragging right - a way to showcase your little pets to all your family and friends and say, "Look what a good parent I am - I've trained me a kid!").

Of course, our culture does not value intangibles. Not really. We spout Romantic ideals of love, happiness, and other equally bohemian scapegoats, but our actions speak much louder than words. We only value honesty because it keeps crime rates down and boosts public morale, which ups production. We value self-esteem because confident workers are hard workers. We value love and happiness - but only if we can squeeze them in while earning a good living so as not to depend on anyone besides ourselves for food and shelter. All children have physical needs and non-physical needs. The physical needs are things like food, shelter, clothing; the non-physical needs are things such as parental attachment, bonding, socialization, trust, love, emotional reciprocity, and security. We have become such a materialistic society that we place the highest value on the physical needs of the child, and neglect everything else. Don't believe me? Which do most Americans think is worse: A parent who works hard 40+ hours a week to feed and clothe their children, but has to send them to daycare and/or school to do so; or a parent who stays home or works minimal hours so they can be with their children, but has to depend on government aid for food and housing? Most people would tell the second parent to get off their ass and go to work. How many would tell the first parent to stay home? Why? The working parent is filling their child's physical needs, but - due to the completely backwards nature of our culture which forces parents to work without their children present - they are often forced to leave the bulk of non-physical needs in the hands of others. The second parent is filling their child's non-physical needs, but leaving the physical needs to be filled by someone else. Our society tells us that one is better than the other, but this is FALSE. ANYONE can give a kid food and a place to stay. Anyone. So why is it that we hold up the working parents who "sacrifice everything" for their kids - who work hard to give them food and shelter, which anyone can theoretically provide, but who are either forced to or choose to allow others to handle education and social development? And why do we condemn "lazy" parents who choose to stay home with their children, even if it means they have to depend on other people to help provide something as trivial as food? If, for example, I pay taxes and do not send my kids to public school, am I not in the same position as someone whose taxes go to another's food stamps? Sure, maybe parent A cannot afford to feed his/her kids. Maybe he/she chooses to earn less income. Maybe the cost of childcare would be more than that parent could earn at a full-time job. What if parent B works full-time and sends his/her kids to public school. Isn't parent B using government money to partially "raise" their kids just as much as parent A? One uses public funds to provide food, while the other uses them to provide education. I don't see people ranting about that - not that they should. Apparently most people in this country think that education is so important that it needs to be provided for by the government...but food doesn't? Is feeding a child less important than educating one? Now, don't get me wrong. I am NOT saying that we should take away public schooling. And I am not - repeat NNNNOOOOTTTT saying anything negative about working parents who send their kids to daycare and/or public school. What I AM saying is that people who send their kids to glass elementary schools shouldn't throw stones at the starving kids down the street. I am a big fan of the village it take to raise a kid, but when most of the people in that village are not interested in raising children, that becomes a problem. The process of de-parenting has to occur on a national scale, because unfortunately, our society, as it stands, is NOT kid-friendly, and whether we like it or not, kids will rule the world someday.

Flowers in the Crockpot

Just another parenting "aha" moment. Leonidas was standing on a chair next to the table and he grabbed some flowers out of the vase on the table. He was smelling them and saying how beautiful they were. Then he lifted up the lid of the (empty and unplugged) crockpot and said, "I put flowers in there?" I immediately said, kindly, "No, silly, flowers don't go in the crockpot; they go in the vase."

I immediately regretted saying this.

No, he didn't get upset or throw a fit (those of you who know Leonidas are already asking this question, I'm sure). In fact, he put them back into the vase. And it saddened me. Where was his warrior spirit? Where was the protest?

I felt as though I had broken my son.

Here he was, two years old, and thinking outside of the box, so to speak. He was being creative! He was using his imagination to make that crockpot beautiful and I CRUSHED it. Who cares if there are flowers in the crockpot? Are the crockpot gods going to knock on my door and give me a citation? Maybe the flowers would have looked nice there. What if, some day, when he's grown, and he has a house of his own, and he gets a bouquet of flowers, but doesn't have a vase to put them in - or anything similar - will he think,"Hmm, maybe I could put them in the crockpot. They might look quite lovely there," or will he think, "Damn, I have no place to put these flowers. I'll have to throw them away"??? What if I hadn't just given him the "Flowers don't go in the crockpot" schema, and when he's older, he creates beautiful crockpot floral displays whose uniqueness and universal appeal make him wealthy beyond his wildest dreams? What if I just destroyed his dream?!

Ok, ok, a little too Butterfly-Effect on that one, but you get the idea.

The point is, I just sacrificed a tiny portion of my child's creativity for the sake of...what? Some prissy notion of "that's not the proper place for that", the foundations of which escape me completely and the logic behind which is almost just as elusive?

I say go ahead, child, you put those flowers in the crockpot and display them proudly! Let them bloom like the creative, intelligent individual you are, and make way for more out-of-the-box thinking to come, because flowers in the crockpot, child, are just the tip of the ice burg.

The Compassion of Children

Today it dawned on me that we don't give our children enough credit where it is rightfully due. It seems second-nature to most of us to try and instruct our children in the ways of politeness and compassion. "Say thank you," "say sorry," "give her a hug", "say excuse me," etc. I hold the not-so-popular opinion that this actually does more harm than good, since forcing a child to do these things makes it compulsory and externally motivated, which, in turn, makes it less likely that they will do such things on their own and be sincere in their intent. My goal is to encourage my children to be internally motivated and genuinely compassionate.

Of course, as we all know, at two years old, most children are distinctly self-centered and not overly concerned with the emotions of others, having not yet completely even realized that others have genuine feelings or that their own actions may affect the feelings of others. What this means is that I am destined to have painfully rude, selfish, and, at times, downright mean children until they reach the age when they are developmentally capable of true empathy. I accept this. Others probably do not (especially those with children who have to play with and be bullied by my two-year-old), but in allowing their children to play with mine, they are helping him to develop that altruism that should be rearing its pretty little head any day now...

But today, I was reminded that children love others despite what we may inadvertently teach them. Leonidas was playing with his two cousins, ages 3 and 4, and a neighbor kid, age 5. They were playing outside on this lovely, bright, sunny day, and spraying each other with water from the hose. Persephine, his four-year-old cousin, became obviously (and as dramatically as her four-year-old self could muster) distraught, grabbed her towel, wrapped it around her, and sat down on the curb, back to the other children, head hanging down, staring into the gutter in a very lonely sort of way. I watched from across the street, silent and observing. After a minute, Leonidas saw her sitting there. He looked at her for a few minutes, unsure of the situation, trying to figure it out. Then he walked over cautiously, sat down on the curb next to her, put his hand on her back, tilted his head, and, in a very concerned yet quiet tone of voice, said, "Uh wrong, Seh-she?" (Translation: "What's wrong, Persephine?") She looked at him, sighed heavily, and said, "I'm cold, and they won't stop squirting me," then put her head back down into her hands. Leonidas contemplated this for a moment, then looked down into the gutter, sighed, and said, "Yeah." The two of them sat there for a few minutes, just looking into the gutter and feeling bad, one for the other. Leonidas then stood up, said, "Wa pway, Seh-she?" ("Wanna play, Persephine?") She shook her head, "no," and he went on his way, playing with the others. Not a tremendous exchange, but a meaningful one. I have never told him how to react to others when they are sad, or told him to "ask what's wrong," or "say you're sorry." But he knew. At 23 months old, he knew she was hurting, and he knew what to do - probably even better than many adults would have. He didn't try to fix it (he hasn't been taught to do that). He just listened and empathized. I could learn a lot from him. I wish more people would learn to do that. Maybe what we try to teach actually gets in the way of that natural reaction. Maybe kids learn more from observing others than from being "taught." Maybe they don't have to be taught at all - they just have to learn. I know one thing: I am proud of my son - when he is mean and when he is kind - not because of what I have taught him, but because of what he has learned, and because in spite of all my efforts to "parent", he still manages to thrive!

Living Dangerously!

Let's play a game. It's called, "How many dangers can you find in this picture?"

Let's see...pant legs that are too long (tripping hazard), long hair obstructing vision, child under the age of two standing above ground level (on one foot, no less), child playing on metal bench not intended for toddler recreation (with wooden, splinter-ridden boards - horror!), muddy play surface (reduced-traction hazard)...

And let's not forget the worst one...trees...

"Wait, wait. Dangers," you may ask, "what dangers? All I see is a child having fun!"

Or at least, this is what you might say if you, like myself, are in the process of raising Free-Range Kids.

On the other hand, you may be one of the "others." You know, the parents who think their kids are living in the next "final Destination" sequel, with random, freak accidents lurking around every corner, lying in wait for your unsuspecting children...

But we all know that isn't reality, right? Right?

...

"But what if..." I know, I know. What if tragedy strikes. Then it would be just that: A tragedy. Indeed, it's something I don't really even want to think of when it comes to my children. In fact, I'll let you in on a little secret...

I used to be one of the "others."

Ok, ok, so it's no secret. Everyone knows I've had my helicopter moments. But I'm changing. Really. In fact, I'm committed to it, wholeheartedly, for the sake of my sanity, for the sake of my marriage, and most of all, for the sake of my children. I don't want them to be afraid of everything outside their front door. I want them to be happy and live fully. I want them to be KIDS while they still can, so they can grow into fine adults. I want to raise children who are rowdy, crazy, a bit spoiled, a bit more spirited, and very well-loved.

So, in the interest of spreading this new-found free-range wisdom, I'd like to demonstrate what "Free-Range Kids" might look like - so you can spot them in a crowd (and inform the proper authorities).















Now here's a child, about 22 month old, about to embark on a bike ride. Note the absence of parental assistance. This is a hallmark feature of the Free-Range Child.

Note that the child has successfully gotten onto the bike and is pedaling away. No intervention needed.
















Oh look, a child going for a walk...in heels...in his pajamas...

We'll just let this one speak for itself...


















This is a toddler in a bath tub. Free-Range Children often bathe in actual water, unassisted, and, in this case, are allowed to use the faucet. Crazy, I know.

















Now here is a picture of my son, almost two, helping me in the kitchen. He is cutting up butter into pieces for use in making a pie crust. Yes, that is an actual knife he is using, and it is sharp. He knows it is sharp, and knows how to use it carefully. He is also standing on a two-step step stool, and has excellent balance. You may be happy to know that he IS wearing a protective apron over his clothes. :)





NAKED BABY ALERT!














Haha, now this, I don't actually recommend, but with Free-Range Kids, this will often happen. Do not be alarmed. Just applaud him for his creativity and encourage some other, equally-fun, yet less dangerous activity such as jumping off the couch or playing with sticks.





















Ahh, now here we see Leonidas doing something else often seen in Free-Range Children: Eating. Note that he is holding his own food and getting incredibly messy...





















Actually, this was a watermelon eating contest. He did not win, but had fun in the attempt!



















Now THAT is satisfaction!


From these pictures, you can clearly see that Free-Range Kids can be found in several different arenas, enjoying several different activities, and worrying several different parents simultaneously. Feel free to point out the "dangers" in these pictures and warn everyone around you of what "could" happen. I probably won't be listening, since I will be beaming from ear to ear, listening to the laughter of babies and watching my children grow up happy, healthy, and FREE!

Cry Baby...

I have been guilty of being an ungrateful mother. I find myself getting so upset when my babies cry. I get angry. I get frustrated. I get sad. I yell and I cry with them. Sometimes I just sit silently and ignore it for a second because I cannot take it any more - or so I think. Of course, I CAN take more, but I choose not to, because I'm selfish. I want my sleep. I want my Facebook. I want to fold laundry and cook dinner.

But then I am reminded of what I would miss. There was a woman on one of the message boards I frequent. She had a baby in April 2009, just like Leonidas. She told her story of her c-section birth. This child that was born was her second. She had a baby that was stillborn the year before. I remember in her story how she related that as they took her baby out of her stomach, she kept repeating to herself, "Cry. Please cry," because with her first baby, she never got to hear that beautiful cry. Just silence. I think of what must have been this deafening silence after buying baby clothes, decorating the nursery, and going through baby name after baby name trying to find the perfect one. Oh, how indescribably amazing that first little cry must have been! It made ME cry just to hear that her second child was born alive and healthy - and screaming his little head off!

When my babies start to cry - when they won't STOP crying for hours - let me not forget how beautiful a cry can be. Let me remember that there are people out there who would give all that they have just to hear their baby cry.

Letting Go...Sort Of...

Letting Go.

These are two words that we often put together, hoping to be able to accomplish their meaning, but seldom finding the ability to even define what they mean, much less master their intent. There are multiple ways in which we use this phrase, from the Language of Letting Go to Let Go and Let God, but what does “letting go” really mean? And, if it really is something positive, how do we accomplish this?

I’ve been struggling with this one, and even as I write this I’m figuring it out, so please disregard any discontinuity in these paragraphs. This is pretty much just my mind thinking and writing as it goes, with no rough draft ☺

I find the phrase “letting go” to be kind of daunting. It seems to insinuate a relinquishing of control, and I HATE giving up control! Of course I do. I’m human. No human wants to give up control. That would be counterintuitive and most likely jeopardize our survival. We’re hard-wired to hate the very idea of surrender. Most people stop here when they think of defining the phrase “letting go” – then wonder why they can’t seem to get it right. “Why can’t I just let go?” “Just let go and let God.” “Just…” as if it were “just” that simple! Oh sure, that’s all there is to it, huh? Just completely ignoring all of my instincts and giving up? Sure, no problem! Why do we think that this should be simple? Or even remotely possible? I’ll not touch on the Biblical nature of this right now, but let it be known that I AM taking Biblical teachings into consideration here, and I see no support for this view, either in scripture or in nature.

So what are the other meanings to this phrase? What other factors come into play? You see, the very idea of “letting go” is ambiguous. On the one hand, it means giving up control, yet on the other hand, it may mean taking back control as well. How is that possible? Well, if one “lets go” of the constraints which define him and contain him, he can find freedom, which, in itself, is a form of self-control. I find it easier to incorporate this aspect into the definition of “letting go,” for a number of reasons, both spiritual and practical. Again, I’ll leave the theology out of this for now, but sum up by saying that I find more support for this view than for the former. Practically, however, this seems to be the only true way of “letting go” of anything. Of course, that doesn’t necessarily mean it’s simple. Letting go of our chains – especially those which we forged ourselves – can be almost as difficult as self-sacrifice. Actually, in a way, it IS a form of self-sacrifice. Even our fears define us, and without them, oppressive though they are, we are never quite the same.

As I said, I have been struggling with this concept lately. I am defined by a number of traits, both positive and negative. I don’t like to be one of those people who refuses to change and says, “Oh well, that’s just how I am.” I think that’s selfish, even though I know we all do it to some extent. Being able to see our own faults takes a great deal of discipline and mental contortionism; changing them takes nothing short of astral projection! Stepping outside oneself is essential if one is to even BEGIN on this road. And unfortunately, looking at ourselves is usually not pretty. I’m reminded of the swamp of sadness in The Neverending Story. It is easy to allow it to overtake you. If you decide to take a good, hard look at yourself without having a worth-while goal, you may get lost in what you see, and some people never make it out.

So on that happy note…what is our goal? How can we keep our heads above the water? Optimism helps, but this is something that usually just falls on one person or another, so we can’t all rely on that. Perhaps redefinition of self is the goal. It’s a big task, no doubt, but definitely not as scary as losing oneself altogether. When you are willing to redefine yourself, you don’t have to “lose” anything. You just gain more parts, really. Perhaps you are an angry person. You don’t need to lose that part – you simply gain the ability to control it and work with/through it. If you are a genuinely angry person, you may always be an angry person, but you can also be a self-controlled person, and that may make the difference. Afraid of crowds? So maybe you’ll always be somewhat afraid of crowds, but you can add the ability to deal with that fear. Of course, there are things that will have to be “let go” in the very real sense, but it’s easier to take it step by step.

So I’m not even remotely close to having this down yet, but I’ve been working on it. I have a lot of things that I’ve been needing to “let go” of. For one, I am a very angry, impatient person. Even writing that makes me angry! And honestly, I’m surprised I’ve had the patience to write this much! Now I don’t claim expertise in this of course. Out of 100 times a day that I need to “let go”, I probably manage to let go maybe 20 times. But who knows…tomorrow it may be 21 ☺ The point is, it’s a work in progress. There are ways to make the process easier, though. I’ll try to touch on a few of them that I’ve found.

First of all, watch your language. “I can’t”, “I have to”, “I can’t stand” – these all need to leave your vocabulary at once. Even “I am” statements need to be curbed. These all convey a sense of permanence to our own pitiful plight that sends us into the old habit of repeating the same mistakes, then defining ourselves by them. “I can’t stand it when the towels don’t match,” can become, “I prefer the towels to match.” The second one is much easier to deal with, don’t you think? Suddenly it’s just a “preference,” rather than an absolute that MUST be adhered to in order for you to keep your identity. Even the statement that I made earlier, “I am a very angry, impatient person,” can be changed to something like, “I tend to get angry and lose my patience easily.” Ahh, that feels much better, and didn’t make me angry! I can deal with “tend to.” “I am,” on the other hand, is so dreadfully permanent and doesn’t offer much hope for change. It’s amazing what changing a few words in our own vocabulary will do!

Second, please fail. Failing is ok. It doesn’t mean you have to start over. Just try again next time. And if need be, apologize, to whomever your failure may have affected. This is difficult for a lot of people, but with practice, it will get easier. And trust me, you’ll have plenty of practice!
Third, let go by holding on. Huh? Yeah, seriously. You have some tricks up your sleeve. When you find one that works, take note, and use it often. Hold on to that bag of tricks, and pat yourself on the back when you remember to use them. Share your success with others as well. It’s ok to brag a little. You’re not being overly-prideful. You’re simply being happy at your own little victories. Share the joy, and keep ‘em coming!

I know I’ve got more, but honestly, if you’ve read this far, I commend you. I wouldn’t have! Maybe I’ll put this in my book someday, if I ever finish it. It will be in a chapter entitled, “How Not to Screw Up Constantly,” or “Tricking Yourself into Not Being Yourself,” or some other cleverly-worded, eye-catching title that makes people think, “Hmm, how profound,” which is just another way of saying, “I have no idea what the hell that is supposed to mean.”