...why women feel the need to cut each other down.
I mean, seriously, why?
Look...You can like Donald Trump. You can like Hillary Clinton. You can like Gary Johnson. You can like Bernie Sanders. It's okay, you're allowed. It's called autonomy. You can make your own decisions.
Some of the stuff I see on social media is driving me insane. It really is.
I don't begrudge you your opinions. Obviously, I have my own (and you're here, reading them so you already know that), but seriously, why do you have to cut other women down?
There are a plethora of posts running around Facebook (and I'm sure other social media as well) about Victoria Woodhull being the first female president nominee.
This is true. Her running mate was Frederick Douglas, a black man, and they were part of the Equal Rights Party (imagine that) in 1872...They appeared on 0...yes ZERO ballots in the United States.
There have been 3rd parties nominating women since 1872. THIRD PARTIES. Not one of the two major political parties that "We the people" have created over the years.
Hillary Clinton is the first viable female candidate ever nominated by one of the two major parties.
It's not saying the nominations of the previous parties mean any less.
For example, I'm sure there were several female CEOs before the first one appointed to a Fortune 500 company, but that first appointment to a major player was STILL historic.
Even if you don't like Hillary Clinton, don't deny my daughter the ability to see that women can do ANYTHING. There's even the possibility to rule one of the most powerful countries on the planet.
Just because you don't like her doesn't give you the right to belittle what she has achieved.
And that achievement will empower little girls from now until the end of time as we know it.
Stop cutting people down. Period.
Women have enough people cutting them down without their own gender doing it too.
~Kim
female nominees found here
Friday, July 29, 2016
I'll Just Turn Off the WiFi...
"That's okay, I'll just use my phone," responds one teen.
"How am I supposed to know when the guys are at the park?" queries the other.
"My Kindle won't work!" squeals the girl.
Go outside and play. Go get dirty. Get sweaty. Swim. Play basketball.
"It's too hot out," states one child.
"You turned off the WiFi so I have no way of knowing where my friends are," complains another.
"I want go to to Gramma's," demands the third.
I try to think back to when I was a kid.
I lived on 3 acres with my nearest neighbor (who didn't even have kids my age) about a quarter of a mile away.
I had woods, a pond, a dairy farm across the street, and acres of play area. I read books, I played pretend, I mowed the grass (on a riding lawn mower so it was more fun than work!). I probably complained as much as my own kids do. Except there was only one of me.
Now I have to watch who they're talking to on social media. I have to explain to them over and over again (because Heaven forbid any of them actually listen the FIRST time) about the dangers of predators who are not who they say they are.
I can't just drop them off at the mall, they could get shot. I can't let them go to the park until the street lights come on because I have to worry about them getting robbed. Even letting them walk to a friend's house incites a twenty minute conversation about being aware of your surroundings.
What the hell has the world come to?
"Never mind, I'll turn the WiFi back on."
~Kim
"How am I supposed to know when the guys are at the park?" queries the other.
"My Kindle won't work!" squeals the girl.
Go outside and play. Go get dirty. Get sweaty. Swim. Play basketball.
"It's too hot out," states one child.
"You turned off the WiFi so I have no way of knowing where my friends are," complains another.
"I want go to to Gramma's," demands the third.
I try to think back to when I was a kid.
I lived on 3 acres with my nearest neighbor (who didn't even have kids my age) about a quarter of a mile away.
I had woods, a pond, a dairy farm across the street, and acres of play area. I read books, I played pretend, I mowed the grass (on a riding lawn mower so it was more fun than work!). I probably complained as much as my own kids do. Except there was only one of me.
Now I have to watch who they're talking to on social media. I have to explain to them over and over again (because Heaven forbid any of them actually listen the FIRST time) about the dangers of predators who are not who they say they are.
I can't just drop them off at the mall, they could get shot. I can't let them go to the park until the street lights come on because I have to worry about them getting robbed. Even letting them walk to a friend's house incites a twenty minute conversation about being aware of your surroundings.
What the hell has the world come to?
"Never mind, I'll turn the WiFi back on."
~Kim
Friday, January 30, 2015
Maybe I'm Not Cut Out...
...to be a mother.
I think about that all the time.
When I am exhausted from picking up the house for the umpteenth time that day, which so happens to be every day.
When I've repeated myself a bazillion times and the task still hasn't been completed.
When I get so angry that I start yelling at everyone, including the cats and the dog.
When, instead of getting up and making the kids do what I've told them to do twelve times, I just sit there and decide it will just be easier to do it myself.
When my kids talk back to me in my own tone of voice with words they've heard out of my mouth.
When I feel like I'm alone in the fight to raise them into functioning adults.
When I realize that it's thirty minutes until bedtime and I *still* haven't served dinner.
When I see the scads of laundry all over the house.
Then I think about:
When we let the house be messy and enjoyed a movie together.
When they've repeated themselves a bazillion times so they could learn something.
When they get so excited they can't help but yell about it.
When I do it myself and they come to help, unasked.
When my kids talk back to me in my own tone of voice with words they've heard out of my mouth.
When I see them doing what I've instilled in them with people outside of our home.
When they just want macaroni and cheese and hot dogs for dinner and we ate dessert first.
When I fold their clothes and notice how the clothes keep getting bigger and I shed a tear for how short my time with them is.
I have finally come to realize that I'm not cut out to be a mother, I'm cut out to be a human being with feelings. Feelings are messy. Reactions aren't always right. My kids won't be perfect.
We're all going to screw up. Sometimes as a group, sometimes individually. Mistakes will happen, but we can always make amends. Always.
I have a love hate relationship with parenting and I've figured out, that's okay.
When you're juggling fifteen balls at once you're sure to drop a couple from time to time, make sure they bounce!
~Kim
I think about that all the time.
When I am exhausted from picking up the house for the umpteenth time that day, which so happens to be every day.
When I've repeated myself a bazillion times and the task still hasn't been completed.
When I get so angry that I start yelling at everyone, including the cats and the dog.
When, instead of getting up and making the kids do what I've told them to do twelve times, I just sit there and decide it will just be easier to do it myself.
When my kids talk back to me in my own tone of voice with words they've heard out of my mouth.
When I feel like I'm alone in the fight to raise them into functioning adults.
When I realize that it's thirty minutes until bedtime and I *still* haven't served dinner.
When I see the scads of laundry all over the house.
Then I think about:
When we let the house be messy and enjoyed a movie together.
When they've repeated themselves a bazillion times so they could learn something.
When they get so excited they can't help but yell about it.
When I do it myself and they come to help, unasked.
When my kids talk back to me in my own tone of voice with words they've heard out of my mouth.
When I see them doing what I've instilled in them with people outside of our home.
When they just want macaroni and cheese and hot dogs for dinner and we ate dessert first.
When I fold their clothes and notice how the clothes keep getting bigger and I shed a tear for how short my time with them is.
I have finally come to realize that I'm not cut out to be a mother, I'm cut out to be a human being with feelings. Feelings are messy. Reactions aren't always right. My kids won't be perfect.
We're all going to screw up. Sometimes as a group, sometimes individually. Mistakes will happen, but we can always make amends. Always.
I have a love hate relationship with parenting and I've figured out, that's okay.
When you're juggling fifteen balls at once you're sure to drop a couple from time to time, make sure they bounce!
~Kim
Tuesday, October 21, 2014
Please Stop...
...bullying other people to elevate your self-esteem or self-worth.
Yep, I bet you had NO idea you're doing this. All those clever memes you're posting on social media are going against what you say you believe in. I'm just as guilty as everyone else.
They're everywhere. Every. Where. When we have opposing views, we can, some times, get so passionate that we forget that there are targets in those memes. There is no reason we can't have civil conversations about things. Just because someone doesn't fit into what you think is right doesn't mean they're ignorant. If they're too thin, over weight, gay, straight, devout Catholic, devout Muslim, Atheist, Pagan, has red hair, has purple hair, is covered in tattoos, rides a motorcycle, carries a gun, doesn't carry a gun, swears, doesn't swear, isn't Claire Huxtable, isn't June Cleaver, or whatever it is you do/don't believe, doesn't mean you should put hateful text out into the universe.
If you are SO passionate about something, put it out into the universe in a POSITIVE way.
My Grandma always said, "You catch more flies with honey than vinegar."
We're all real, we're all going through life, but, most of all, we're all human!
I'm going to try to be more mindful.
~Kim
I realize this is my second post on the topic today, but it's what's in my brain. It's important!
Yep, I bet you had NO idea you're doing this. All those clever memes you're posting on social media are going against what you say you believe in. I'm just as guilty as everyone else.
"Real Women Have Curves."
"Real Men Love Women With Curves."
"Don't Support Gay Marriage? I Don't Support Your Stupidity."
They're everywhere. Every. Where. When we have opposing views, we can, some times, get so passionate that we forget that there are targets in those memes. There is no reason we can't have civil conversations about things. Just because someone doesn't fit into what you think is right doesn't mean they're ignorant. If they're too thin, over weight, gay, straight, devout Catholic, devout Muslim, Atheist, Pagan, has red hair, has purple hair, is covered in tattoos, rides a motorcycle, carries a gun, doesn't carry a gun, swears, doesn't swear, isn't Claire Huxtable, isn't June Cleaver, or whatever it is you do/don't believe, doesn't mean you should put hateful text out into the universe.
If you are SO passionate about something, put it out into the universe in a POSITIVE way.
My Grandma always said, "You catch more flies with honey than vinegar."
We're all real, we're all going through life, but, most of all, we're all human!
I'm going to try to be more mindful.
~Kim
I realize this is my second post on the topic today, but it's what's in my brain. It's important!
Putting other people...
...down in order to elevate yourself is wrong.
Doing that is a testament to a lack of self-confidence and/or self esteem, or that one person is worth less than another. In either case, the action is wrong.
I see lots of memes across Facebook, Twitter, Instagram, etc. purporting that "Real" someone or other is better because of "X."
Doing that is a testament to a lack of self-confidence and/or self esteem, or that one person is worth less than another. In either case, the action is wrong.
I see lots of memes across Facebook, Twitter, Instagram, etc. purporting that "Real" someone or other is better because of "X."
OR
Those messages spread hate. Yep, they spread hate like wildfire.
What may seems like an innocent way to make yourself feel better about your body style, your hair, your eyes, or your paycheck is a simply calling something else wrong, ugly, or worthless. It's veiled in positive words, but if you're the person that's thin, tall, etc., it's hurtful.
You never know what someone is going through. Post responsibly.
~Kim
If You're Happy And You Know It...
...You're not me.
So, we've moved. Things are settling in nicely for the family. Everyone, except me.
I feel it. I feel it every single day. The kids have adjusted well, they've all made new friends. Party invites have been had, sports have begun, and play dates (I hate that phrase) have been scheduled (another word I hate in this circumstance). The kids are happy, they get to spend more time with Dad.
I'm doing my normal stuff, running kids here and there, getting everyone around for school every day, and cleaning up after everyone.
I'm back in the rut. Normally, the rut isn't a big deal, but *I'm* not adjusting well to the move.
Before we moved, I had lots of friends, people I'd see at the ball fields, basketball games, around town. I wouldn't say I had a huge social life, but I had people I could escape with when I needed it.
Here I don't.
This is a smaller town, quite a bit smaller than the one we moved from. It's one of those towns where everyone knows everyone and a lot of them are related. Outsiders are precisely that: Outsiders.
I was at a soccer game a couple of weeks ago. I sat on the sidelines in my chairs. Two sets of parents, from our school, sat on either side of me. They talked across me the entire game. Not once did they talk TO me. Not once.
Wow!
That is not what I'm used to at all.
So what's happened is I've rolled into some sort of depression. I wouldn't say clinical, because it's very circumstantial (while I do have a bit of clinical depression, that's not the problem here and I am aware of that).
It's really weird being aware of the problem, knowing what can be done about it, but not being able to do anything about it at all.
~Kim
So, we've moved. Things are settling in nicely for the family. Everyone, except me.
I feel it. I feel it every single day. The kids have adjusted well, they've all made new friends. Party invites have been had, sports have begun, and play dates (I hate that phrase) have been scheduled (another word I hate in this circumstance). The kids are happy, they get to spend more time with Dad.
I'm doing my normal stuff, running kids here and there, getting everyone around for school every day, and cleaning up after everyone.
I'm back in the rut. Normally, the rut isn't a big deal, but *I'm* not adjusting well to the move.
Before we moved, I had lots of friends, people I'd see at the ball fields, basketball games, around town. I wouldn't say I had a huge social life, but I had people I could escape with when I needed it.
Here I don't.
This is a smaller town, quite a bit smaller than the one we moved from. It's one of those towns where everyone knows everyone and a lot of them are related. Outsiders are precisely that: Outsiders.
I was at a soccer game a couple of weeks ago. I sat on the sidelines in my chairs. Two sets of parents, from our school, sat on either side of me. They talked across me the entire game. Not once did they talk TO me. Not once.
Wow!
That is not what I'm used to at all.
So what's happened is I've rolled into some sort of depression. I wouldn't say clinical, because it's very circumstantial (while I do have a bit of clinical depression, that's not the problem here and I am aware of that).
It's really weird being aware of the problem, knowing what can be done about it, but not being able to do anything about it at all.
~Kim
Wednesday, October 1, 2014
My Heart Is Full..
...and it's not just blood.
The oldest teenager in my house gave me warm fuzzies this morning.
Yup, he talked to me without rolling his eyes, dripping with attitude, and even laughed.
The coolest part, we talked about school!
Usually, when school or grades come up, it's me lecturing about homework or studying or just plain not being an asshole in class.
This morning it was an uneventful conversation about what he could do better and how he feels about his grades and classes.
We laughed, we smiled, and we joked. It was awesome!
It proves, that even though I feel like I'm doing it all wrong, I AM doing something right.
He knows he can talk to me when he's ready. I just have to remember that he's not always ready.
It was small, but it was awesome.
It made my day.
Just talk to your kids. Please, just talk to them about everything. More importantly, LISTEN. Listen to them when they talk. About anything. No matter how small.
It's hard, as a parent, to listen. Sometimes it's almost impossible, but you HAVE to.
My kids aren't perfect, and I don't purport to know everything about their lives, but I guaran-damn-tee, I know a lot more than I would if I didn't listen to silly things. Silly things such as what they picked to have for lunch and why they don't like tomatoes, or the hole in their sock made their toe hurt, or that *Suzie* said that their hair looked funny today.
Listening to those things leads to the big things, such as; "*Joey* carries a condom in his wallet just in case he gets lucky. That's so stupid." Or "We walked by this house and they asked if we wanted some pot."
It leads to conversations about sex, drugs, friends, driving, school, love, hate, bullying....All of it.
Another tidbit of information that goes along with listening; reaction.
How you react to what they're telling you will either shut them down completely or open the door for teachable moments and life changing conversations.
It's so hard, but I try not to freak out when they tell me something big, or about a bad choice they made, or something they heard that makes my skin crawl.
It makes a difference. It makes a HUGE difference.
We talk a lot in my house. Sometimes so much it makes my ears hurt and my brain scream for mercy. It's not always good, but it's good that we talk.
They know it's okay to come to me with anything. They know I won't judge them. They know if it's a problem, I will do everything possible to find a solution. They know that I love them.
That's the most important part; they know that I love them.
~Kim
The oldest teenager in my house gave me warm fuzzies this morning.
Yup, he talked to me without rolling his eyes, dripping with attitude, and even laughed.
The coolest part, we talked about school!
Usually, when school or grades come up, it's me lecturing about homework or studying or just plain not being an asshole in class.
This morning it was an uneventful conversation about what he could do better and how he feels about his grades and classes.
We laughed, we smiled, and we joked. It was awesome!
It proves, that even though I feel like I'm doing it all wrong, I AM doing something right.
He knows he can talk to me when he's ready. I just have to remember that he's not always ready.
It was small, but it was awesome.
It made my day.
Just talk to your kids. Please, just talk to them about everything. More importantly, LISTEN. Listen to them when they talk. About anything. No matter how small.
It's hard, as a parent, to listen. Sometimes it's almost impossible, but you HAVE to.
My kids aren't perfect, and I don't purport to know everything about their lives, but I guaran-damn-tee, I know a lot more than I would if I didn't listen to silly things. Silly things such as what they picked to have for lunch and why they don't like tomatoes, or the hole in their sock made their toe hurt, or that *Suzie* said that their hair looked funny today.
Listening to those things leads to the big things, such as; "*Joey* carries a condom in his wallet just in case he gets lucky. That's so stupid." Or "We walked by this house and they asked if we wanted some pot."
It leads to conversations about sex, drugs, friends, driving, school, love, hate, bullying....All of it.
Another tidbit of information that goes along with listening; reaction.
How you react to what they're telling you will either shut them down completely or open the door for teachable moments and life changing conversations.
It's so hard, but I try not to freak out when they tell me something big, or about a bad choice they made, or something they heard that makes my skin crawl.
It makes a difference. It makes a HUGE difference.
We talk a lot in my house. Sometimes so much it makes my ears hurt and my brain scream for mercy. It's not always good, but it's good that we talk.
They know it's okay to come to me with anything. They know I won't judge them. They know if it's a problem, I will do everything possible to find a solution. They know that I love them.
That's the most important part; they know that I love them.
~Kim
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