WHEN DOES DISCIPLINE BECOME ABUSE?

I am watching my granddaughter, and it is rapidly becoming a test of wills.


Multiple runs from the 'time-out' chair back to the family room.


Multiple drags back to the 'time-out' chair from the family room.


Extended periods of time sitting it out.



"Abuse" is defined as "to use wrongly or improperly; misuse" or "to treat in a harmful, injurious, or offensive way"



While discipline is "training to act in accordance with rules;" or "activity, exercise, or a regimen that develops or improves a skill; training:"


From Kate's point of view, it's abuse.

From my view, it's discipline.


From the dogs' point of view, it's great fun.


From her brother's point of view, it's a chance to watch a DVD all my himself in the family room in peace and quiet.


Take your pick.

WHAT IF WOMEN HAD WRITTEN THE BOOK OF MORMON

1 Sarah 1:1 "I, Sarah, was raised in Jerusalem, and our Young Women leaders challenged us to begin keeping a journal. It's gonna be kinda difficult - paper isn't always around, and I sure as heck am not going to engrave this. So maybe if I just keep writing inside the hem of my abaya and use some of the shorthand that Suah is learning at school.

So let me tell you about this trip my dad took us on - away from Jerusalem, away from ANY type of market or shopping, and make us CAMP in the middle of NOwhere. He got the boys on his side telling them they could earn all sort of badges out there, but even Mom was mad at him. But Nephi came up with the idea of simply sailing off, so we did, and we're in a very nice country now with better weather (cleared up my skin like amazingly), bigger crops, and lots of animals.

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2 Wafiyyah 54:1 "We are still dealing with the stupid War of 717 - men seem to think that it's noble to kill each and other and die if they have a Title or a War or something with Capital Letters That Will Look Important Some Day In A History Book.

So we women just keep doing the hunting and gathering and raising the kids while the guys trot off to middle America with their Army buddies to camp, talk, and play solider. And then send back demanding more food, supplies, and beer to be delivered to them. It's insane. Why anyone thinks they should actually be put in charge of our society is beyond my understanding.

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Book of Tarub: "It has been over 500 years since Christ appeared to and taught our foremothers in New Jerusalem, and we have continued to practice and share his teachings of love for one another, compassion and trust.

However, the men have begun to re-discover the taste of beef, and the juvenile practice of spear hunting. They are rapidly becoming competitive and emotional about the silliest things - like how many points the Aletites led the Moronites by in half-time.

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Book of Nabihah: "It has been over 1,000 years since the appearance of Christ to our fore-mothers, and while almost all the men are dead in this last great battle, we women of the Nabilah settlement have been concentrating on editing all these records and creating a condensed version of our history.

Besides spiritual matters, we have included our top 125 recipes, cleaning tips and how to make fashionable yet modest clothing at home, as well as a new-mothers handbook for babies.

HOMELESS SHOMELESS

This photo on the right was added to Pinterest with the  following caption under it:


"MORE RESTAURANTS NEED TO DO THIS."

Nope, you are extremely mistaken about this.

More INDIVIDUALS need to do this.

It's fairly easy to walk or drive right past a homeless person, dirty, unkempt, begging on the corner, and ignore them.

And it's convenient to think "Why doesn't someone DO something about these poor people?"


If you're a certain type of person, you will even say (or think), "Why don't these people just get a JOB, get themselves back on their feet and not live this way?"

You will think to yourself, "Well, they got themselves into this position, and they have no one but themselves to blame."

"I'd give them some money, but they'd just spend it on drugs or booze, so I won't."

"They probably dress like that just to get extra money."


I'd like you to imagine some things.

Imagine a member of your own family has become seriously ill.

Then you are laid off, and lose your health insurance.

You still are trying to take care of the ill member of your family. But your unemployment only lasts for a few months.

You can't pay the mortgage or the rent. Your friends and family are just as strapped for cash by the poor economic situation. You can't pay the medical bills that keep piling up.

You apply for medical assistance.... oh, sorry - that was a part of Obamacare, and that got stopped, remember.

You try to stay in a homeless shelter.

You are only allowed to stay two weeks because of the number of people waiting for your space.

You are out on the streets now.

You have no access to a shower, to hot water, no privacy.

Your only personal belongings are the ones you can carry with you or in a shopping cart.

"Oh, come on, wait a minute," you interrupt me, "I would never BE in that type of situation! I have savings! I have a steady job that I would never be fired from! I have family that would support me in these dire circumstances!"

Okay, well, maybe not.

But Christ gave the commandment - not suggestion - to love one another.

Do you think that only means love and help middle-class income people as yourself?

Is loving one another only loving people who agree with you politically?

Did Christ himself only fellowship the steady observant Jews of his time?

I don't think I need to say anything more.



Or at least I hope I don't need to say anything more.


Give the guy begging on the corner that five dollar bill in your wallet - you don't need that dessert.

Take all those clothes that you figure you'll fit into someday when you've lost that last 10 lb, and donate them to the homeless shelters - or Goodwill and the Salvation Army.

Instead of buying another DVD, give that money to your local shelter.





And the most radical idea I will present in this entire little tirade?


Stop and talk to a homeless person.

Yes, that scruffy guy smoking a cigarette ("Man, how can he possible afford cigarettes?!"

Say "Hello." Ask if there is anything specific he needs that you could help with.


You may find out that the cigarette has been picked up off the street - his wife left him when he lost his job - he is dealing with depression and alcoholism and not doing well at all.

You may just be able to buy a McDonald's meal for him.




(And yes, use reasonable caution - do it only in public, well-lit places with people around you - DUH!)

Okay?

Don't wait for Subway restaurant to donate more - do it yourself.

ANOTHER LATE NIGHT

This is one of those nights.

There is a warm wind wrapping itself around my shoulders.

I am listening to old REM and Doobie Brothers songs while reading incredibly sappy Sherlock fan fiction.

And part of my heart is just pleading to have some one here who could understand even just a tiny particle of what I am feeling.

Sometimes I'm fine with the same old stories and same old lines. And most of the time I can accept this cage I'm in.

Until the breeze changes - the chest becomes tight again - the thoughts of what could/should be surface again.

Part of it is my daughter will be here tomorrow, and she is the closest friend I have - and that will help. Some. And I'll cry some of this out before I go to bed - I'll dream some more of it out in my sleep. I talk to my shrink tomorrow morning, and that will help to.

I just know it's never really going to go away.

And it's never to be fulfilled. Not in this life anyway.

And that's the part that makes me cry. I'm impatient - I want it now.

BEAUTY MAY ONLY BE SKIN-DEEP...

I am not beautiful.

And I'm okay with that.

Number one, because I don't have a whole lot of choice in the matter without massive surgery.

Number two, I've been fortunate enough to know a few "beautiful" people.

It's like everyone loves the concept of winning the lottery, becoming a millionaire.

Until they become that millionaire.

I worked with a woman who was downright BEEEEAUTIFUL.

Perfect figure, green eyes, blonde hair, exact proportions, great choice in clothing and all that, a lovely voice, a simply wonderful personality in addition to intelligence and sheer savvy.

And she hated it.

Karyn would walk in a room, and she said that "immediately all the women in the room hate me, and all the men are in love with me. Before they have any chance at all to know who I actually AM."

She was frustrated by people assuming she had somehow gotten her college degree by her beauty or sleeping with the professors. Her job placement by the simple fact that she had a male boss. And any outstanding job performance was slighted by a "well, of COURSE it's easy for HER."

I sort of loved the fact that she was married to a really ugly Marine - a sweetheart of a guy, of course, but NOT good-looking.

And I try to remember this when I pass by a mirror unexpectedly and catch a glimpse of my plastered hair, rumpled t-shirt, dirty jeans and complete lack of make-up or even any semblance of color coordination.

(And I can't sing like this very talented lady, but I can SOO relate to the way she looked in this first appearance on "America's Got Talent")

PULLING OUT THE VERY LAST TRICK

When people talk about talents, they generally are referring to something musical, like playing an instrument or singing - or physical attributes, such as being a strong basketball player, or running - and sometimes crocheting, sewing or making really good brownies.




When pressed, I will admit my one true talent.

I can put babies to sleep.



I honestly don't think it's really a talent - I just am an exceptionally boring person, and they just give up shortly after discovering that.

But I am a good person to give a fussy baby to during church services.

And so I do end up with one of the Campbell twins on my shoulder almost every Sunday.


Today, I literally got to the end of my rope.

My regular rocking wasn't taking hold.


The walking and rocking didn't either.

The walking, rocking and rhythmically shussing ... hmm, no.

Finally got to the very last one.

Singing the Mockingbird Song.

THE UNTIED STATES OF AMERIGO

I am proud to be an American.

However.

Yes, we drove off, murdered, penned, abused and dehumanized the natives of this land.

We became a nation because we got mad about taxes (that sounds familiar, doesn't it?).

We won against the British because we fought dirty and we got the French and the Spanish on our side.

We blatantly moved across the nation, taking up everything we could get.



We've messed up numerous time - and in very stupid ways.

In a nation reportedly founded on the concepts of "all men are created equal" (as long as that doesn't include women, blacks, native Americans, or anyone else we don't like at the moment) and that our Creator has endowed us with "certain unalienable rights" (as long as they are rights we agree with, and not ones that someone else wants), and freedom of religion (unless you are Quakers or Mormon or Catholics.

And the list continues.

But you know what?

We've got a pretty good base - we've got a government that, as irritating and frustrating as it is at times, has deliberate checks and balances, and has survived our silly attempts to uproot it for over 200 years now.



We're getting closer to equal rights across the board - we're getting better about religion (hell, we've got a Mormon running for President!) - we do have that freedom of expression and lack of censorship pretty well under control (or rather NOT under control, I guess!).

We're going the best we can.

And it isn't and won't ever be perfect.

So we need to keep working on it.

I'm willing to.

Are you?

PERFECT HAIR

According to a British survey conducted by Tresemme, the average woman spends a staggering $50,000 on her hair over her lifetime. Each year, we spend an average of $160 on shampoos and conditioners, $120 for styling products and $520 for haircuts. And for those of us who color our locks, add in another $330 a year.


I have much lower standards than most men do about their hair - I want it out of my eyes, covering enough of my scalp to be social acceptable, and other than that, I don't really worry about it. 

I don't color my hair (mousy brown), don't worry about my ever-increasing-in-number grey hairs, haven't even had a perm in quite a few years (and my hair is board straight dull).

But I have rediscovered the magical trick to making my hair look FANTASTIC.

Sweat. Really

I honestly have no idea why - and the internet was no help at all, all the postings about sweat were specifically about black women's hair and sweat.

But if I work up a good sweat - and then do absolutely NOTHING with my hair but finger-comb it back, it looks INCREDIBLE for the rest of the day.

So, the question now is, how can I market this and cash in on some of that $50,000?

ARIZONA BORDERS

Imagine a short-order cook, a guy from your local greasy spoon, dirty apron, baseball cap on backward, telling Gordon Ramsey from Hell's Kitchen how to properly chiffonad the vegetables.



Or the coffee person at the doughnut shop on the corner inform the head of Starbucks that "dude, you're doing that whole coffee-thing wrong!"

That's how I feel when people post/talk/gripe about the Arizona border issues.

And allow me to explain why.

I have lived in my house now for twelve years. I can look out of my bedroom window in southern Arizona and see Mexico, three miles away. I can see the new border fence. I have the Naco station border patrol station on speed-dial because I contact them so often (this afternoon, as a matter of fact)

So when someone (actually Rush Limbaugh - gag) posts something like "Obama was not interested in enforcing the border. "What border?" He probably thinks there shouldn't even be a border!... this is resulting in a state of chaos in the state of Arizona -- economically, politically, criminally." I really do want to stand up on a chair and shout out over the crowd of people listening to him WHAT THE HECK ARE YOU TALKING ABOUT?!?!

When people demand a reason why they "haven't simply CLOSED to border", I want them to come down and walk the entire 2,000 miles of open land between Mexico and the U.S.

And experience first hand that the HUGE majority of that land is open federal or grazing land.

And realize it's not like someone just needs to shut the gate.

Okay, I'll shut up.

For now.