My grandma lived until she was 102. She died yesterday, December 1st

My siblings are suffering in silence. I respect that, truly I do. I hope they respect that I'm not.

I have never suffered in silence.

In fact, I suffered so loudly that I was sent to my room frequently because of it.

Don't hate the squeaky wheel. It's not just a show or an exaggeration; we really do hurt that much and we really do require that much grease. I've been told how annoying this is. Requests to stop or ease up on the sensitivity was/is met with confusion.

Try asking yellow to kindly stop being that colour.

My brain is screwy with it's analogies and metaphors today, my committed reader.

I just wanted to say that maybe if I hadn't been sent to my room when I cried, that my emotions wouldn't be so confusing.

All they needed to do was acknowledge my sadness.

It shouldn't have mattered if it was spilled milk or if my cat just died. As a child, I was (and still am) entitled to my feelings. To a child....to me (to all children) that sadness was necessary to feel, it was necessary to express. It needed to identified at the very least.

And now I'm 36 and still bitter. Well, not right this minute. Right this minute I'm sad.

Ya know, like I mentioned in my Facebook status, I'm soft and squishy. I'm fluffy and colourful. Think pink hearts, rainbows, and Hello Kitty. Picture daisies and hot pink hair ribbons. That's me.

Now, I've met some hard people in my life. Some people that weren't penetrable. And ya know what my soft squishy personality does to those hard asses? It softens them just enough that they feel good. Next thing you know, little heart bubbles are creeping into their soul and making them smile. They really can't help it, ya know.

I have either that affect on the hard asses, or one of annoyance. I'm hurt by those but I'm sensitive, so that's ok.

Welp, guess I'll sort out more feelings later. Thanks for humouring me.

♥

So many unfinished and unpublished posts

Apparently this is just an online journal. So, if that's the case then assume this as my last will an testament.

I'm tired.

People I love are dying and I find myself jealous.

I keep smiling and then crying. Then smiling then crying. I hate it. The smiling isn't worth it. The crying is much more overbearing. It makes me lose hope.

I want to hug my grandma one last time and I can't because she's physically in another country. I was her Sugar Babe, that's what she called me. I used to walk to her house when I was 3 and request "num nums" which meant graham crackers. I don't remember that, but I remember her telling me many times with such a smile on her face. She loved her little Sugar Babe and I knew it.

Growing up Becky was easy when you're talking general, taking into account 3rd world countries....I felt alone in a house where 7 people lived.

Then a few times a year I'd see Grandma. When I was around, it was more of course. Mom always made sure I knew how much Grandma liked me. It wasn't until my dad disgustedly admitted that I was Grandma's favorite that I knew to what extent. Grandma is mom's mom. She didn't like my dad too much and for no real reason, other than he was a man. (At least that's what he said. I, however, know it's more complicated than that). Anyway, Grandma made me feel special in a big family where I was just another "Miller kid".

My Uncle Tom (Dad's big brother) made me feel special a few times. I've modestly tried reaching out to him but to no avail. I wish he still liked me....

Sorry, this is going nowhere.

I just want to hug my grandma. Right now. Really badly.

Where was I going with this?

It was a dark and stormy night.....

And somehow, the night was as silent as a grave. Each muted flash of lightening only made the quiet more audacious. Rain patted the ground with a steady soft white noise. Wind moved mundanely through the leaves. It was eerily calm.

The sudden crack of thunder made a rip through the black night and shattered the silence with it's crackling echoes.

hehe

How's that? I write ok. Apparently when you're a kid, you have an attitude that prevents you from learning. Or at least I did. Well, that and I'm way too impressionable. Especially teenage Becky.

I wanna do a post or something on "life hacks". Ugh. I dislike those words greatly, but since it's widely used....what if I put my own spin on it....how 'bout "life shortcuts"...uhm...."brain helpers"....ok ok, how 'bout, "Things that make simple tasks simpler"?

For instance, I've recently discovered another use for diaper wipes (even if you don't have a kid, buy em, trust me). Since diaper wipes are extremely gentle for little sensitive baby skin, it stands to reason that they'd be gentle on eyes. During my annual ladies camping, I discovered you can wipe off old eye makeup smudges with a fragrance free Huggies wipe. I've been using them in most of my morning makeup rituals ever since. So...how 'bout them diaper wipes? Eh? ....eh?

Well, I had a whole Imgur post planned and everything. I've come to terms with never making front page. It'd be neat. Kinda celebrity status for a day. I think I might be too sensitive for the obvious criticism I'd receive. Bah, anyway, I had a "Things that make simple tasks simpler" list idea but maybe my time is better spent elsewhere.

....no one reads these posts anyway. They're not interesting. I've not much to offer except my own meaningless life lessons.

Wow, gee, that took a turn, didn't it?

Maybe this can act as my writing portfolio. Maybe I could put a post on imgur about my pointless site and get some sympathy followers. Sigh. Why am I so pitiful?

Ok, I'm ending this before Eeyore comes back.

Rawr! Damn these immature feelings! I'm better than this!

Why do certain people or certain situations spark very specific emotions?

For instance: jealousy.

I've battled with jealousy growing up because I had a big sister who was doted on constantly by our mother. She was encouraged throughout her life to be ambitious, to study hard and take pride in your life, your things, and your appearance. My mom complimented her on her talent and beauty regularly. My big sister reveled in gymnastics til she was 13 and moved on to cheerleading. With her honor roll grades, and her 21 year old boyfriend, she was the epitome of perfect.

If she were to read all that, she'd say, "Becky, you stole my clothes and ruined them! All. The. Time. You wormed your way into my slumber parties and annoyed us all! You cried about everything to get your way!"

I suppose you have to have both sides to be objective. That's me. Being objective.

*sly grin*

I stole her clothes for 1 simple reason: hers were better.

My parents put a lock on her door and gave her the only key. I still found a way.

My mom got me some cute my little pony hand me down undies from her friend's daughter. (that's gotta work, right?) I still (of fucking course) stole her clothes.

My sister went away to college. Anything she left behind, purpose or not, was mine. From 1995 til I moved out of the house, her things became mine.

Unfortunately, so did her responsibilities.

{I'll skip the tangent I was about to go on}

Back to jealousy: it was easy to be a little girl and jealous of your older sister who was better in every way. Can anyone from my family blame me?

I was frequently told to shut up by my sister and older brothers when I cried. I was told, "If you're gonna do that [crying], go up to your room and do it there" by my dad. Mom claims we had nothing in common, that's why she didn't do as many things with me, she says I gave up. I think it's because my mom and I had too much in common, so it was harder for us to get along and our patience decreased with time.

I had imaginary friends and students (yeah, i played pretend teacher) that would listen when I needed it. I whispered to them frequently because I felt hated for having strong emotions that resulted in tears.

And here was my big sister. Strong as a rock. She held her head up everywhere and if she ever felt vulnerable, you couldn't tell.

Seriously, can you really blame me for jealous feelings?

I dislike feelings of jealousy because they remind me of when I was 10.

This morning, I felt jealous. I found out that someone I'm trying to befriend has been "sleeping with the enemy" so to speak. Not literally, of course, and not an enemy. It's difficult to explain whilst keeping privacy so I'll just say the feelings were unwarranted, and yet, I felt them anyway.

Then the feelings of resentment came and I quickly found myself wishing something bad would happen. The consciousness of those feelings made me angry. I don't want to have qualities like that. I don't want to be one of those immature people who slash their ex's tires or prank call their enemies.

What do I do, then?

What do I do in this situation with .....*sigh* privacy

Why am I disliked for my sensitivity?

I already answered that one: it's cause the squeaky wheel gets the grease.

I want help. I want advice. I want my parents.

Unfortunately, my parents only respond to what they want to respond to and one of them doesn't keep secrets well. My dad is a wordsmith. Yeah, that's a new word for me, but it makes sense. You need to watch what words you use around and to him because he hears every word. Since my feelings are strong and I frequently stick my foot in my mouth, I get caught in Dad's headlights a lot. He usually repeats whatever I said in passing, in his incredulous voice. He then adds his disapproving eyebrow wrinkle and slight head shake for extra emphasis on your failures. He also speaks and writes a thousand times better than me.

Dad's not the one I can confide in. I'm all grown up and any feelings of immaturity are met with immediate disappointment. In fact, my entire life, with the exception of my husband and kids, feel like a disappointment to him. He would shake his head and wrinkle his brow if he read this, too.

Mom tells everything to my sister. I already feel like a failure in my sister's eyes. And anyone else to whom she speaks.

This post is becoming more and more like a journal entry. Ah well. You came and read this far, right?

Jealousy and resentment. How does one deal? Comment. Message. Ponder. Tweet. Whatevs.

lufbecky

Gets darker with sadness

When I was in high school, my art teacher, Mrs. Higgins, pulled me aside one afternoon. She asked me if I was ok. At which point, I burst into tears. I'm not even sure what was going on in my life at that time, I just know I was a depressed and angry teenager. After confiding in her and she telling me the normal "we were all there once" speech, I had know, how did she know anything was wrong?

Art was my favorite subject, obviously, and it made me so grateful and relaxed when I walked into that blissful art room. The moldy smell of clay soaked rags, old brushes, the bite of newly opened paints that, for just a split second, made you feel life a fresh start was about to begin. All of it! The lameness of the construction paper to the stink of slip pot: I loved it all! The art room was where I smiled.

I get goosbumps just thinking about it. Smiling there for a moment writing, but it's fading....

Therein lies my point:

Mrs. Higgins noticed something was wrong because my painting suddenly got darker.

Right now, as I battle with strong depressive feelings, I wonder if my writing shows it getting darker.

Boy, do I miss that art room and I've give anything to be sitting back in that stupid stinky little disarray of creativity.

It made me satisfied. Not exactly happy, per se, but satisfied.

Where did that feeling go? Despite my mother in law's tremendous drive for cleanliness satisfaction, I get nothing. Nothing at all. That's why it's so hard to understand my point of view. I'm nothing like that. There's no satisfaction in cleaning. It's just going to end up messy again.

Sigh.

I feel like I'm speaking like Eeyore.....

Alright. Well. I guess I'll go then...

Ramblings of a logically creative intellect

Kids are in school and I have some time which should rightfully be spent cleaning (since I lapsed on the floors this weekend) but alas, my spirit is explosive with colors (yes, today, it's colors)! It's good I have a little baby cause no one understands glitter quite like a kid. Glitter is never bad. Even 5 years later when you still occasionally find it on your eyelid, it's never bad, just means you need to get out your crafts 

wink emoticon

On that note, I must revel in my awesome for a min: I cleaned and organized 3 of my 5 boxes of fabric! This, my lovely friends, is amazeballs. It's truly a huge leap in becky-kind. My mom is the Queen of Organization so I have the skill, just need to tap into it more often. AND I fully expect to finish the other 2 boxes before the weekend.

Pretty sure I wanted to mention something but this is way better. Ramblings of a logically creative intellect, heehee.

Hey, I read somewhere recently that a Nigerian student studying in Japan solved a 30 year math equation in his first semester.

"Stubborness is just being loyal to your convictions"

                                                  -Becky Lynn Greene

That's mine. My quote. You like? I'd like to add that I'm very loyal.

And lastly, this is a picture of me and my little brother when we were little. Mom sewed a lot of our clothes....

The hills have eyes....and so do the sidewalks, the houses, the floors, the cars, hell even the people have 'em!

I used someone else's meme so apologies for the beginner look, mine would be a step below this anyway.

The theme for today is eyes.

A wise man once told me that "no one cares". People live and die on this crazy earth all the time. It's tragic sometimes, and other times, it's mercy. The point is, everyone has their own life to live and generally speaking they don't really care about yours.

Well, this is not exactly true. Not only do people care, but they watch and study, even if they don't care. Some people like soap operas. That's nice and all but when the soaps start to bore them, they move on to their friends and family. Maybe pick up a little dirt on someone here, spread a little dirt on someone there. Then stir the pot a bit, and add some more people. Next thing you know, you have a great big 'ole stewing pot full of everyone else's bullshit. As long as you're the one doing the stirring, it's totally fine. Soon as someone else decides to add a bit of their own dirt and take over the stirring, shit hits the fan. Thing is, the shit has been hitting the fan every since that first person slung it!

Sometimes I feel like Mike is my only ally. What's safe to confide in people? So many things have come back to bite me in the ass. When I'm sad, when I'm feeling weak and need help, who do I call that won't throw it in my face later on down the line?

There's eyes and ears everywhere and yet I've never felt so alone.

Author Becky Lynn Greene -exclamation point-

Yes, it's true. I'm thinking about writing a book. Funny cause upon researching "how to write a novel", one of the first things stated was "Suppress the need to share it". Does that mean, "don't tell anyone your writing a book"? Or does it mean, "don't let anyone read your book [in the beginning anyway]"? Both, maybe?

Ah, well, I won't say anything more on the subject. My stepsister wrote and published (herself) a book of poetry and my stepbrother is working on a comic book. He's not to bad at sci-fi writing himself. Perhaps I'll get some tips from him.

Just wanted to put that out there just in case I lapse a bit on this. Don't worry, though, you'll always receive my words of wisdom, just might not be as frequently as I'd like.

Evelyn McHale and her Most Beautiful Suicide

I know there isn't anything 'beautiful' about suicide, but what else would you call this iconic photo?

Captivating, isn't it? Morbid, yet fascinating that this beautiful woman would jump off the top of the Empire State Building. It was way back in 1947, when the economy was just getting up to par after the Great Depression. So much of New York hadn't even been built yet.

New York in 1932 - notice how the streets are evident at this angle?

When I stumbled upon Evelyn's image in the fall of last year I was immediately drawn to her. She looked familiar to me, like she was someone I had known. Upon some google searches I found some minor details about why this woman would jump to her death but I still found myself obsessively wondering more.

[When I become interested in something, I tend to take it to the extreme.]

As the winter approached and my vitamin D supplements increased to no avail, I grew more and more depressed. My husband was off work for the winter so we had very little income even with his ebay selling on the side. I'm grateful he was home most days because I could usually stay in bed and shut out the world. I slept as much as I could and drowned my emotions with television shows and movies. Each day, I grew more sad than the last and even contemplated suicide when I hit rock bottom. 

So often I turned my attention to Evelyn and her story. I wanted to save her. I wanted to jump with her. I wanted to talk to her and tell her things would be ok even though I didn't know myself. It was a bit obsessive, I admit, but it helped me through. 

In my obsessions I found out that a student named Lauren Anne Rice was researching and writing a book about Evelyn. Immediately I was intrigued and actually wanted to help write the book!

Instead, I wrote a comment thanking her for helping me through this past winter. Later, I sent a more detailed personal message to her directly and even received a reply that was touching, kind, and thankful. I was so scared of creeping her out in my message [by talking about my obsession with Evelyn] so I was  grateful she received it well and even offered some insight and reminded me not to use labels.

Being beautiful doesn't mean being happy which is why her image perplexed so many. Obviously I wasn't the only one intrigued by her morbid beauty:

Andy Warhol resurrected her image in a print he did titled, Fallen Body. In 1962, Evelyn was once again brought to light.

Since then, she's been a focal point of many art projects everywhere.

I'm really anticipating Ms Rice's book! I'm pretty sure it's not only going to give us a delve into Evelyn's life but also inform us about depression with regards to today's society [versus the post Depression of society that Evelyn ensued]. I imagine so many were angry that this beautiful woman, when life was so precious, would throw it all away with a single leap. It probably angered people that she then received attention for her "selfish act" of suicide.

It was that last thought that gave me a sense into the minds of the healthy non depressed people of the world. I suddenly understood why people got so angry.

From my standpoint (and so many that end up in that dark place), suicide was the solution for the ultimate hatred of yourself. That was what you do when there is no hope at all. It's doing your loved ones a favor by ripping of the band-aid in their life.

That's the way some think when they're at the end. The "selfish" part is the tunnel thinking that goes on. Suicidal people can't hear words of comfort very well, some not at all. They have this idea and when nothing can break through to save them, they jump.

Quite frankly, it's a place we've been to before, we're sick of it and we've already heard everything. That's why we can't take it anymore and it feels like happiness is only going to come in tiny sporadic bursts throughout life. There's not enough to warrant seeing it through for an entire lifetime. In fact, I felt better knowing I could very likely die in a car crash or get cancer. That was basically what I had concluded by the time the spring sunshine came along so I moved on.

It's a morbid way of thinking, I know, but it's a mutually familiar feeling to so many. I even wrote that big ol' slew in a Facebook status after I witnessed a teenage boy pacing atop a building, threatening to jump. The kid was alright but it shook me up and had reignited the above feelings. I wanted to explain to people that this kid wasn't looking to be selfish. He needed help and being angry at him often makes it worse. If he did it to get attention, it's obvious he needed help which requires attention.

I was upset that the crowd below responded in anger and disgust, not sympathy and definitely not empathy. I was angry that people can't see beyond their own opinion. People rarely acknowledge other's lives and feelings, why on earth would they take the time to empathize? Grrrrr *insert some kinda angry face emoticon*.

I had recommended to my cogent thinking friends that they perceive it as a "hallucination if you need logic". A delusion.

So, anyway, join me in anticipating Lauren Anne Rice's book and check in with her Facebook for updates as well.

On a side note, try not to worry about me. I've been exercising (walking), taking lots of vitamin supplements, eating better, and I'm even remembering to take my medicine every morning!

luf

Becky

A Collection of Becky Greene Facebook Statuses:

And now... 

A Collection of Becky Greene Facebook Statuses :

May 14

Hey hey hey! Guess what time it is?!!

Time to Love Becky Hour! For the next hour everyone can take a moment (or several) to think of me, Becky. I'm an animal person, huge Madonna fan, have tiny lips, scrumptiously curvy hips and i never fail to make ya smile. I love to be the center of attention but I'm introverted as hell. I genuinely care and worry about every single person on the planet.Sometimes I feel like a nut. Sometimes I...

May 20

And now for a more serious note: I just witnessed a kid pacing on top of a building threatening to jump.

He's with the proper authorities now and God willing, getting the help he needs.

This isn't meant for arguments, its simply a view from a perspective: my best translation from mental illness to non metal illness.

People at the end don't see clearly. They're not trying to be selfish when they make those threats. Most of the time they fully believe that they're doing everyone they love a favor by....leaving this world. They know they cause worry, sadness, stress, etc so they believe an end to their life would be just ripping off a bandaid in yours. When you tell them they're loved, they can't hear it, not like you want them to. When you say it'll get better, they know its not. Call it hallucinations if you need logic, just proceed with caution. Watch what words you use and hug that person off the ledge. And then afterwards, don't forget, cause their troubles aren't over. To them, they're never over. Please don't respond with anger. Be empathetic.

Still a little shaken up so maybe someone could pm me if they know the kid. Authorities only do so much; community, friends and family does more IMO

May 21 (the day of the "Incident"

geesh, having a rough week. I need to work on how I handle confrontation. Really wish the world didn't like fighting so much. I'd rather just play on the floor, maybe read a good book.

June 2

Happy Tuesday (I originally typed Monday- boy I would've looked dumb herrderr), Late-Checking-Facebook-So-I'll-Do-It-After-Work/School People, I bring to you tidings of Becky. With a side order of Becky. Topped with Becky. Sprinkled with Becky. Lotta-love-on-the-side-Becky. And just for good measure, Becky all in a bundle. Yes. Vomiting love every which way, hope ya get some on ya!

June 12

I just found out that someone actually has a severe hatred for me simply because I'm sensitive. Wow, the world really gets darker, doesn't it? It's actually a few people and I'm related to them! You know how you're supposed to reach out when you're at the end? Well, don't. At least don't reach out to the wrong person/people because they'll actually push you instead of holding you. It's honestly one of the scariest things I've ever had to deal with

June 15

You know the term, "must be nice..."? It's used too much and it's rude. I mentioned before that no one knows what any one person is truly feeling except themselves. Don't pretend to know what someone else is going through, even if you have the same tragedies, the same parents, or even the same kind of dog, you still do not know what that person is feeling.

I read some things regarding report cards up here. There's too many politics involved for me (or anyone) to place blame in any one area, so why am I reading titles like, "Parents need to step up and give educators a failing grade" Uhm. Wtf? I read it and it elaborated a little more objectively. A little. The article still stated that "it must be nice" for teachers to get all that time off, and get great tax breaks, and so on.

Must be nice for the parents to f off somewhere while our kids are watched, disciplined, and taught for 6 hours every day. Must be nice getting those really awesome homemade Mothers and Fathers Day cards that they make at the "giant babysitting facility". Must be nice to see them fed and get regular excersise every day. Must be nice hearing about the interesting field trip or the cool science experiment.

Must be nice. One adult: 30 kids: 35-50 hours a week. Maybe it's just me, but I don't think I could do that and kudos to the ones that do. Here, take my taxpayer money! Is there anything else that should really take priority over our kids's future? Well I think they should be paid like doctors cause they're saving their lives before they need saving.

...Maybe I'm just a big ignorant turd but hey, isn't that what we all are?

Then on June 16 a friend posted my old website that I started in 1997. I wrote the whole website out in entirely html because I wanted my own website and I wanted it unique and without templates

......ok ok truth is, I didn't know there was templates and when I did, it was too confusing to switch so I just kept adding to the code stuff that I knew. I even bought a book to teach me some of the basic tags used. I wanted to go bigger so I got a book to teach me Visual Interdev which is a program that uses ASP (active server script) which works like Java

Anyhoo, here ya go : Becky's Not Too Shabby Website

June 23

Art comes in many forms to this chickadee and I think I need it all to express me and my multitude of "personalities". I think that's why I've always been drawn to rainbows; they're too colorful to make up their minds.

Yesterday I crafted. Today I write. Tomorrow I'll paint.

Working on my writing skills with my blog lately. Basically my digital voice. You know how some people yell to get their point across? Well, I write. That's my voice and I'm not too bad at it. That's why I say "working" on it; my writing is still pretty raw. And worse: I can't take (even constructive) criticism well.

lufluf

July 9

I gots all kinds of stuffs in my mind! Why does it relentlessly ask me this? Every. Single. Time.

My brain is like a snowstorm; every little flake is different and there's so darn much of it! (Were you expecting something more philosophical or poetic maybe?)

Ehem.

I mean the overwhelming nature of my incessantly changing thoughts can get pretty disorienting, much like a snowstorm. And my rabid thoughts (yes I'm going with rabid) bury bigger things like cars, houses, and people.

Sometimes I get really self absorbed with my own worries that I miss some things that are literally right in front of me and it makes me look mean and selfish. I know a lot of people who are shy but it can be perceived to strangers as them being jerk face nuggets. They're not.

I believe that the world is basically good. Most people don't intend to be jerks. I have to believe that. (I'm a soft pink bunny under a rainbow and fluffy clouds) Some people might be having a hard day. Some people are just shy. Some people are just concerned with their own busy lives. If you ever asked them if they care, they'll tell you, "yes, of course".

My mind won't sit still today. Not even sure made a point. But here we go; for everyone to see wink emoticon

Glamping in Ontario

Glamping in Ontario

So I went on my ladies only camping last weekend! A very dear friend of mine bought the old Storyland property in Renfrew and has been turning into a glamping site with pool and spa. 

For anyone not in the loop, glamping is glamourous camping and it's fabulous! For those of us who want to enjoy the quiet serenity of the woods but still want our WiFi close at hand, glamping is the thing for you!

In the winter, Ontario blankets itself in thick white snow and it's not long before the snowmobiles mark their territories with mazes of winding trails. 

Yep, she has plans for those fellas, too!

All season pool, spa, hiking, fishing, swimming! I  even saw her yoga studio!!! Yoga studio!!

Pretty sure I lost about 5 pounds over the weekend just walking around the trails. Didn't even notice til I got home cause I was too busy enjoying myself.

Now for the important lesson here: Take time for yourself. I feel sad that I only see most of these ladies once a year but every year I get to know them all a little more. Most of them have daughters so I love to hear stories of pinkness, glitter, unicorns, dresses, and dolls so much that I just sit there grinning. 

It might look a little creepy to those not in the know: 

Boys. They are everywhere in my family. Out of 4 kids my dad had, all with families, came to a total of 12 grand kids thus far. I have two nieces. Yes. Two. One of them was just born and lives 300 miles south of me and the other is living on the other side of the continent. I'm a girly girl of girls. I have Barbie dolls. I love love LOVE girly things and I had 3 boys. Three very masculine and boyish boys who play video games and watch sports.

Anyway, round two of Ladies Camping is set for August 29th weekend so hopefully I can get some actual pictures of the actual place. 

Holding my head up a bit higher these days. Prozac helps, but sunshine works quicker :)

Acknowledge everyone and their work

I'm totally open to good advice. In fact I'm actually pretty unsure of myself a lot and prefer that someone makes the choices. Guess that's why Mike and I make a good match. Where I need him, he's there and where he needs me, I'm there. Yes, he needs me. Heh, if you knew me personally you might laugh. But if you've ever seen him make the most simplest meals or ask him to do up a load of laundry, there's a darn good chance that he's going to make it....sub par. I'd like to say disaster but that's not the case.

(Come on, Ladies, you know you do it too; he always misses a spot or several with dishes, there's always lint on dark laundry, ya know, sub par)

I'll tell ya right now that I'd rather make a three course meal at suppertime with all the trimmings than lug  around 90 pounds of 8 inch thick pressed plywood and fiberglass that are 8 and 9 feet tall. And that's not the hardest part, that's just all in a day's work.

My husband is a form setter. He's one third of a 3 man crew that makes foundations for houses. Yes, he's deliciously ripped....and healthy, yes, ehem, healthy so he lives forever heehee.

I'm a stay at home mom. There's more to it than that, as all stay at home moms know. I'm happy to say that I have a very understanding husband that knows and acknowledges how mentally and emotionally exhausting my days get. And I'm proud to say I think I do a good job of acknowledging how physically exhausting his job gets.

We have a marriage. We have a partnership that's not equal but it's balanced.

He doesn't cook half the meals or change half the diapers, just like I don't lug half his panels. We're balanced to meet our strengths and weaknesses. I really don't know how single parents do it.

Kudos to people who do it.

Everyone's pain hurts them. Don't be an...

Have you ever seen a child throw a tantrum? Have you ever laughed at it or rolled your eyes and walked away? Or told them to stop it?

Have you ever seen someone cry at a funeral? Have you ever laughed at it or rolled your eyes and walked away? Or told them to stop it?

Do you see where I'm going with this? We're adults, you say. Our pain is greater, you say.

No it's not. Just cause it's not something you'd get upset about, doesn't make it wrong to be upset about it.

Ever pull the wings off a fly? (Or in my extremely sensitive case, ever watch in horror as someone pulled the wings off a fly?) Nah, I'm not arguing that it's scared. They can't feel; they barely have a nervous system. They have an awareness and an instinct. When you pull off they're wings, they're entire world is suddenly wrong. Their instinct is telling them to do something they can't. "Wrongness"? That's all they know - everything is wrong. Might not be fear like what we feel but it's the opposite of finding a yummy pile of shit in which to play. Can we all agree that it's entire existence is altered for the worst?

I'm not saying to be a hippy vegan and join PETA. I'm saying dig into your empathy when you're dealing with children and their strong emotions. That's all they know.

Don't bother correcting or straightening things out for them to make them feel better. In the moment, just hold them and be sad with them cause their hurt is real. Just for a moment and then step back into parenting if you must. Please take just that moment to feel their hurt.


I'm also going to request that you just adopt this quality for everyone in your life. Everyone's pain hurts them. Don't be an asshole.

a Rant of Good Versus Bad, Believers and Non Believers

Wrote this rant quite some time ago. Guessing a year, maybe more? Anyhoo it was simply a train of thought that I was following on a keyboard as well as my head. I'm going to publish it as another testament to my loving and innocent personality.

My funny brain is all over the place this morning so I figured I'd see how fast I can type hehe:

So lately I've been thinking about my faith. I consider myself a christian as in I believe and accept that Jesus is my lord and saviour. I whole-heartedly believe that he died on the cross (he suffered in the most unimaginable ways) to pay to serve as punishment for all of the sinners on earth. A lot of us believe He died only for the ones that believe in Him. I, personally, believe that we have a wonderful loving and forgiving God. I believe that He alone has the final judgement on where we go when we are done with this life on earth. Jesus teaches all about love, life, loss and too many things really to name. In a nutshell (hard to do I know) he teaches right from wrong. I think that is sorta born within all of us. Its up to us to take it in or not. Thats where I think its important to seek Jesus because he teaches so well and he teaches the truth. There;s other religions that I've read and listened to and quite honestly they all teach right from wrong (however some are lost in translation I think thats whats happening with religious wars).

I'm losing my thoughts. I wanted to mention God's forgiveness and where the grey areas are. The brain is part of our physical body and small children, naive and mentally disabled people aren't really capable of accepting Jesus. I can't believe for a second that their souls are cast into the fiery pits of Hell for all of eternity. My best friend told me once that my big brother that died when I was 13 went to Hell. I lost my breathe when she said that, literally felt like the wind was knocked out of me. I doubted my beliefs for no more than a moment. I know for sure that my big brother's spirit is waiting for me in Heaven. Not a doubt in my mind and never will be.

The Bible describes a lot of things, some more specific than others. I know that the Bible was written from stories passed down and translated from an ancient and practically unknown language. Ages ago when people were killing in the name of God was when we put that book in ink. We solidified those words, the things that the Amish take very literally. In our modern religions we seem to take what we think we can accomplish in life (like how far we're willing to go to worship God like not use cars or electric) and pick the religion that fits that. We listen to our parents, we take in the thoughts and beliefs of our neighbours and make our own.

I read a Bible that refered to Sodom and Gomorra as cities full of "wicked men", there was no detail of homosexuality in the verses I read. However picking up a different Bible I read they were "men having sex with men". What did God want that to say? I know too many homosexuals to think they could ever be cast into Hell. Some probably have no idea they already living there life by Jesus anyway: they're already good people. They hold open doors, they say thank you just like everyone else, geesh, they are everybody else. I don't consider them different. How about entire nations like North Korea that have no idea Jesus is there for them? They say thank you and I bet they look at lying, stealing and cheating as bad, right? We have a wonderful loving and forgiving God. I also can't help but believe that He's got one heck of a sense of humour.

I've got nothing to add.

I'm a damn good writer; who cares if there's millions of bloggers....only one me

Yeah, the title! Read that! Take it to the bank, put it your pipe and smoke it....put it on your plate and eat it....you're cup and drink it.....

That's an inside joke with my husband and if I let you in on this, it'll let you in on my personality:

We had only been going out for a few weeks but we're committed. I wanted to make a point about something but failed to come up with the right saying. "Put that in your pipe and smoke it" was what I was going for but what came out was "Put that on your plate and eat it....".

I knew it wasn't right and I got no response, not even a smile so....

(quick, Becky, think!)

"Put it in your cup and drink it?" I apprehensively corrected. Then I giggled.

Mike let out the breath he'd been holding and laughed along with me.

It was safe. He knew I was extremely sensitive but I also have a quick wit, to which he was still learning the ropes. I think he told me once that at that moment he fell in love. He's since told me other cute quirks were also moments of tripping over love. Yeah yeah I'm the luckiest girl in the world....today.....

Yeah, got the old depression illness that I fight every single day. Today I'm happy....right this moment anyway. Take it step at a time, eh? Trying to find out some things about myself so bare with
me.

I'll try to share some of my life lessons to save you the hassle of figuring them out.