The Ice Cream Cone

Part of my happy childhood involves a warm Saturday night when my uncle would pile the four kids into the bed of his blue pickup truck and take us to the ice cream stand.  It was a special treat, and we sang campfire songs at the top of our lungs the whole way there.  

Those same three ice cream stands still stand as beacons of our small town, and they haven't changed much at all.  We take our own children there for a special treat (in seatbelts and car seats, of course, not in the the bed of a truck), because it's nostalgic for us.  One summer day, Hubby took the kids to the expensive one.  We rarely visit that stand; it's a little bit further away and the cones are twice the price.  Baby Girl was maybe three, I'm not sure.  She ordered a plain vanilla cone, and it was huge.  When the fourteen-year-old sales girl handed the cones to Hubby, someone's chocolate cone touched the vanilla cone.  Baby Girl took her cone, immediately walked over to the trash can, and threw it away.  She looked at her father and demanded, "I want another one.  That one had chocolate on it."

There are two kinds of parents in this world.  I'll choose my words carefully and won't tell you what I truly think of the second parent.  Hubby responded exactly as I hoped he would.  With eyebrows raised high, he informed her that she would absolutely not be getting another cone since she chose to throw hers away.  She proceeded to throw a fit.  A woman approached my husband and told him what a terrible parent he was because he would not buy her another ice cream cone.  My daughter was being a brat, and this woman wanted her unacceptable behavior to be rewarded by giving her exactly what she wanted.  Absolutely not.  I'm so proud of my husband that day for putting a crying child in the car and not giving in to her.  He came home grouchy, but he made the right decision.  To this day, my daughter remembers the lesson she learned.  

In America, we have a lot of grown-up brats who "threw away their ice cream cones" and are now demanding new ones.  Some of our government has told them no- they are not getting a bailout for the communities they purposefully destroyed.  For that, I commend them.  At first, the brats may throw a fit, and things might get worse.  But if "Daddy" gives in to their tirades, will they ever learn their lesson?  No, they will turn into bigger brats, throw greater fits, and consistently demand more.  It's time for our government to start treating these fit-throwing adults like babies and punishing them for their misbehavior.

The Rest of the Story

If you were ever a fan of Paul Harvey, you may have heard this narration before.  It was new to me, Even though it was written as a newspaper article in 1970,  I thought it was incredibly appropriate for today's circumstances.

Below is a transcript of the narration, as well as an audio clip:

https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=RUUZ2fKVqcs

“Policeman.  A policeman is a composite of what all men are, mingling of a saint and sinner, dust and deity. Gulled statistics wave the fan over the stinkers, underscore instances of dishonesty and brutality because they are ‘new.’ What they really mean is that they are exceptional, unusual, not commonplace.

“Buried under the frost is the fact: Less than one-half of 1 percent of policemen misfit the uniform. That’s a better average than you’d find among clergy!

“What is a policeman made of? He, of all men, is once the most needed and the most unwanted. He’s a strangely nameless creature who is ‘sir’ to his face and ‘fuzz’ (or worse) to his back. He must be such a diplomat that he can settle differences between individuals so that each will think he won.

“But if a policeman is neat, he’s conceited; if he’s careless, he’s a bum. If he’s pleasant, he’s flirting; if not, he’s a grouch. He must make an instant decision which would require months for a lawyer to make. But if he hurries, he’s careless; if he’s deliberate, he’s lazy.

“He must be first to an accident and infallible with his diagnosis. He must be able to start breathing, stop bleeding, tie splints and, above all, be sure the victim goes home without a limp. Or expect to get sued.

“The police officer must know every gun, draw on the run, and hit where it doesn’t hurt. He must be able to whip two men twice his size and half his age without damaging his uniform and without being ‘brutal.’ If you hit him, he’s a coward. If he hits you, he’s a bully.

“A policeman must know everything and not tell. He must know where all the sin is and not partake. A policeman must, from a single strand of hair, be able to describe the crime, the weapon and the criminal, and tell you where the criminal is hiding. But, if he catches the criminal, he’s lucky; if he doesn’t, he’s a dunce. If he gets promoted, he has political pull; if he doesn’t, he’s a dullard.

“The policeman must chase a bum lead to a dead-end, stake out 10 nights to tag one witness who saw it happen — but refused to remember. The policeman must be a minister, a social worker, a diplomat, a tough guy and a gentleman. And, of course, he’d have to be a genius — for he will have to feed a family on a policeman’s salary.”

Well said, Mr. Harvey.  You nailed it.  Well said.

Going Back to School: The New Norm

Our governor recently released the guidelines for returning to school in the Fall.  Most of them were things I expected, considering the talk circulating over the recent weeks and months.  Much of it sounds improbable, but staff are going to do all they can to make things work.  I came to terms with the fact that I would be wearing a face mask for 7 hours each day.  I have a very soft voice, so I'm concerned about being heard through my mask.  I'm going to end up straining my voice by trying to amplify while I teach.  I also drink a lot of water throughout the day.  That may have to change.  

I work in a self-contained unit for students with emotional disturbance and behavior disorders.  In layman's terms, there are four adults in the classroom for twelve children.  We often have to go hands-on with the students and sometimes must physically restrain them for safety reasons.  We have all been trained and certified to handle these situations.  Our students spit and bite, but we typically keep emotions under control so that this rarely happens.  I fear that their knowledge of the virus will cause them to spit more frequently, because they realize the power their bodily fluids now possess.  

The students in my class are also runners.  If something doesn't go their way, they are likely to get up and bolt out of the classroom.  Last year was a record year for me.  I took to wearing athletic shoes because I was running so often.  We even had a student get out of the building once.  (Well, he was already out of the building because he began running right from the school bus.)  Going hands-on with a student I'm supposed to stay six feet from is not something I'm looking forward to doing.  My coworkers and I have already discussed that we will likely allow the students more freedom to "have a meltdown" without intervention, but they will be removed to online instruction following such an event.  Our goal is for no physical restraints this year.  

It's surely not going to be ideal, but it's something we all must accept.  It's the new normal.  Another new norm is how the major cities of our state have recently mandated face masks in public.  Our small town has not yet gotten to that point, but I'm sure it will happen.  It's no change for me because I always wear one in public; it's for the safety of others.  An article I read said that they expect the change to occur like banning smoking in public places.  It was easy to enforce because it came with the threat of civil punishment.  Personally, I think it's very unfair to expect police officers to enforce another, very controversial issue in these times of turmoil.  People who oppose masks may become hostile if a police officer tells them they must wear one in public.  Once again, these guys need defended, not defunded. 

I'd love to hear the thoughts of others, especially school employees and parents, of how the return to school looks in your district.  Please comment if you have something to say!

Warm Fuzzies

There are still good people out there in the world.  With all my heart, I believe they far outnumber the bad folk; they just don't make as much noise.  I wanted to share three experiences my husband had while on duty this week.

Just a day on the job

First of all, my husband was working security at our local supermarket.  A black man entered the store with his three children and gave my husband a sideways look.  His children appeared frightened by the presence of a police officer so near.  After shopping, the man approached my husband.  "Can I ask you a question?" he asked.  "Sure," Hubby replied.  The man continued to explain that his children live with a fear of law enforcement.  He said he got a certain feeling about my husband when he entered the store, and he could tell he was a good cop.  He wanted to know if it was OK for the children to meet my husband and talk with him, so they could realize that cops are good people.  I commended that father for his actions.  He stepped out of his comfort zone and acted in a way that society doesn't expect.  The best thing he did that day was teach his children a very valuable lesson about how to see the good in each individual person, not to judge any given group as a whole.  

A local citizen posted this online

The following day, a 10-year-old boy approached my husband's cruiser as he was patrolling a rough  neighborhood.  Hubby greeted him and the boy replied, "Can I tell you something?  I like cops.  The police are the good guys because they help people.  All these rioters out there are the bad guys.  They want to hurt cops and that's not right.  You be extra careful out there."  Hubby said he was nearly moved to tears.  This boy acquired more character in his ten years than some people do in a lifetime.  Hubby asked about his family and the boy said his father had passed away.  Someone, somewhere raised that boy right and I hope he someday makes something of himself.  

Finally, Hubby was hand-delivered a care package on his shift today.  The card had a Lego police officer on it thanking the police for protecting and serving during this time of turmoil and unrest.  Also included was a homemade face mask and a McDonald's gift card.  The older couple did not want to drop off the packages at the station; they wanted to personally hand them to each officer on all three shifts.

Just when I begin to lose all faith in humanity, a week like this comes along and makes me thankful for all the good people who are still out there.  I appreciate each and every one of you who go an extra mile to make someone else's day just a little bit better.  Thank you.

Soapbox

I'm back on my soapbox today because I'm just getting so sick and tired of the dissension and division that is being created in this country.  People speak of change and progression, yet I feel like we've been set back 100 years or more.  Allow me to elaborate.

Obviously, racial dissension is at the forefront of everyone's mind.  Why is it so incredibly strong suddenly?  Did the majority of the population's opinion regarding race suddenly change?  I don't believe that it has.  I believe that tensions have been stirred up, unjustly, and that a whole lot of drama was created that shouldn't have been.  For starters, I'm getting sick of being told that I'm racist.  Because I'm white, it's automatically assumed that I don't like people with dark skin.  Why?  I'm not racist, and I'm quite offended at the insinuation that I am.  I have black friends.  I would never treat someone differently based on the color of their skin, yet society is drilling into me that it's natural for me to be racist because I'm white.  I'm sick of it.

Even in my education classes, there is a section in every course about racial diversity.  That's fine, I understand it must be addressed.  What I have a problem with is when the course textbook says something like this:  Because you're going into education, odds are that you are a white woman.  There is a disproportionate representation of white females in the profession.  Because you are a white female, you will automatically harbor a bias against your black, male students.  OK, guys- that really irritates me.  Yes, I realize that the majority of my profession is made up of white females.  My sons both entered a profession that is dominated by white males.  Is that sexist?  Nope.  It is what it is.  To be told that I will be slighted against black males is offensive.  Just to be real with you, my least favorite students last year were the only two white females in my class.  I don't even like admitting that, because we're not supposed to play favorites.  Last year, my favorite student was D.D.  He was a black male.  The year before, it was J.T, black male.  The year prior, I.A., another black male.  So please don't tell me I'm biased against black males.  Just don't.  

It's not all racial though.  Dissension is based on status as well.  When I first returned to the education sector, I was in a different school.  During my lunch shift, the staff ate lunch in a large lounge with one long table.  Teachers sat at one end of the table and aides sat at the other.  It was very segregated and it bothered me.  I kind of sat in the middle because I wasn't sure what to do.  The gym teacher who sat next to me literally turned her back to me the entire lunch period.  It was actually kind of humiliating.  Thankfully, that type of division doesn't happen at the school where I currently work.  There is no difference between teachers and aides (for the most part).  Everyone is basically staff.  

Political division is one of the worst right now.  Too many individuals claim they are open minded, yet they follow everything their party tells them to do without considering how they really feel about it.  If someone is of the opposite political party, they are automatically an idiot and a moron.  Yeah, I'm really getting tired of that one too.  I watched an interesting social experiment.  An interview team walked around a public area to ask political questions of passers-by.  First, they asked people their political affiliation and their thoughts about the opposing party.  Then, they asked how they felt about a major issue, but they gave the credit to the opposing leader.  Nine times out of ten, the individual agreed with the issue if they thought it was supported by their party.  When they were informed that the opinion was held by the opposing party, they were shocked, embarrassed, or in denial.  People have become so anchored to their party that they've allowed it to take away their identity.  Being Democrat or Republican should not divide us the way it does.  

Another big one is police officers and African Americans.  Apparently they're not allowed to like each other any more.  Why?  Because society told them so.  I won't go into this whole debate again; I've already done it.  

I'd like to ask a favor to anyone who has made it this far in my blog post.  If you notice society trying to divide you from others for any reason- social class, race, religion, ideals, nationality- don't allow it.  Take a stand, use your brain, and speak from your own mind.  In this world, why can't a white, female, Democrat janitor be friends with a black, male, Republican teacher where they coexist, get along, and no one hates anyone else?  I know someone who had a Dream based on those ideals....

What I'm Reading

The strawberry shortcake
happened BEFORE my diet

I've stated before in my blog that my favorite author is Maeve Binchy.  I've read everything she's written since Tara Road, but I hadn't read all of her earliest works.  We have a program in our church called Angels of Grace that others might call Secret Sisters.  I was chosen this year by a very attentive lady who regularly showers me with cards and special gifts.  Throughout the quarantine, she has left packages on my front porch.  Yes, I've seen her making the deliveries, but I've pretended like I haven't.  Anyway, for my birthday in June, she included Maeve Binchy's first work, Light a Penny Candle.  I was so excited because I had never read it!  The book was fabulous, all the way until the end.  It seems like Binchy just didn't know how to wrap it up.  It kind of started to drag on, and I think she realized it was getting boring.  So she had a couple of the main people do things that were completely out of character and very dramatic.  The book ended sort of abruptly and left me with a bad taste in my mouth.  Because the rest of the book was so very good, I think I would still give it 4 out of 5 stars.  Just be prepared, if you read it, the ending is kind of weird.  

Experiencing another Binchy book for the first time made me excited for more.  Amazon was no help; I didn't want to pay full price for a book.  I tried eBay, which I haven't visited in probably a decade.  You can get used books for $4.99 or less, with free shipping.  If you buy 3 or more items, you get an extra 15% off!  So I received 3 hardcover books in the mail for a great price!  They were all in good condition and I had no complaints.  The seller was discover-books.

The first book I opened was actually a compilation of 3 of Binchy's books.  They are all earlier works and I hadn't read any of them.  I started with The Lilac Bus.  If you don't know Binchy's writing style, she uses a lot of characters.  At times, it seems overwhelming.  But she has a knack for bringing them all together in the end.  When they all start interacting and fitting together, you have that Aha! moment and that's when the story gets really good.  Sadly, that's not what The Lilac Bus was.  The beginning was amazing.  Binchy's storytelling abilities are incredible.  I kept waiting for the first characters to come back, but they never did.  I googled the title of the book and realized that the different sections of the book are actually a collection of short stories.  I must admit, I was a little disappointed.  Had I known that in advance, I would have enjoyed the stories so much more; they were extremely well written.  Once again, I would recommend this book, but keep in mind that each section does not relate to the last.

This goes to prove that Binchy's writing abilities progressed tremendously throughout her life.  I still attest to the fact that her greatest work is Tara Road.  Circle of Friends is my second favorite, with Evening Class coming in third.        

I took a break from reading to accomplish a few other things around here, including painting.  My next venture will be Firefly Summer, the second story in the book of 3.  Hopefully this one doesn't have any disappointments. 

Sleepy with a Side of Headache

I've not been sleeping lately.  Maybe I'm old, maybe I'm worried...whatever the reason, it sure is annoying.  Two nights ago, I slept from midnight until 4:30.  I think a sound startled me, and there was no return to sleep.  I felt horrible all day yesterday.  Last night, I took sleep medication and didn't wake up until 7:30!  It was heavenly!  No worries, I will not be making this a habit.  

~*~

This week has been my Migraine Week.  Once a month, ever since my partial hysterectomy, I experience Migraine Week.  It's kind of like Shark Week, but no one televises it.  I don't have the light-blinding, vomiting, can't-function type of migraines.  I have marathon migraines.  Imagine if someone poked you in the arm, with some intensity, but not enough to hurt you.  You would give them a dirty look and ask them to stop, but probably wouldn't punch them in the nose.  Now, imagine that they did that for 5 or 6 days straight.  That's what Migraine Week is like.  By day 3 or 4, I'm ready to kill anyone who looks at me funny and concentrating at work is extremely difficult.  I tried a seizure medication for maybe nine months or so, but there was no relief.  The doctor had me double my dose, and said I could even take it up to triple the original dosage if this didn't work.  I must say, I think the intensity is just a tad less, and now the headaches seem to respond ever so slightly to Excedrin.  Anyone else experience this same debilitating issue?

~*~

I told my brother to take the Police placard off of my sister-in-law's car.  She's just a tiny little thing, and I would hate for any trouble to await her in the parking lot of a store or mall.  It's been recommended on the Police Wives site to remove the Thin Blue Line flags at your homes or decals on your cars.  It's really sad that things have come to this.  I pray for peace for our nation.

Bathroom Break

I think it was 13 or 14 years ago, we gutted out our upstairs bathroom and replaced everything, down to the dry wall.  We were a one-income family at the time, so we did things on the cheap.  My dad, who does nothing on the cheap, said that the materials would never last.  We purchased everything from a big box store, but it was all we could afford at the time.  In hindsight, I'm still glad we did what we did.  Guys, my bathtub was lavender before we remodeled!  LAVENDER!

At this point, everything is utter crap.  You have to hold down the toilet handle to get it to flush.  The knob fell off the medicine cabinet door years ago.  The drawers in the vanity don't slide at all.  The towel bar is broken.  Not to mention, we've raised 4 kids and 2 adults in this bathroom, and for 2 years, it was the sole bathroom in the house!  It served its purpose.

Hubby has been working some side jobs and we've been saving up to do it right this time.  Last night, we went to a high-quality hardware store to "look around."  Yeah, I came back with a whole bathroom designed.  This is how it went down:

I had been scouring the internet during the quarantine for bathroom vanities.  I thought that was a good place to start.  I could not find anything I liked, except for stuff from big box stores.  I absolutely refused to buy from there again.  I finally found something on Amazon that had great reviews and was made of solid wood.  Still, I was worried about ordering something blindly.  At the hardware store, I was able to choose my wood, the door style, and the color.  I was struggling picking out the countertop material because there were so many choices.  She led me to a remnant that was the highest quality quartz with reduced pricing.  I loved it!  To get that remnant, I had to snag it up.  So that's why I went ahead and ordered everything.  The best part is that my design ended up coming very close to the price of the Amazon vanity!  God is good, people!  I ended up designing a matching medicine cabinet, and I bet the knob will not fall off of that!

The Floor I Like

How 'Bout That Sign?

We purchased a Moen faucet and the best toilet money can buy.  Still left on my list is flooring, vanity lighting, and PVC shiplap.  I put PVC beadboard in my half bath and absolutely love it!  It's extremely durable, waterproof, and super easy to clean.  As I was in the process of picking out products, I pulled out my phone to open Pinterest.  The pin at the top of this post is exactly how my bathroom is shaping up to look!  I have a medicine cabinet in the same finish, rather than just a mirror.  Also, I will likely have a wide plank, light floor to contrast the cabinet.  Definitely over the toilet, I will have a sign that says, "Please Be Seated," or "Remain seated for the entire performance," or something equally as witty.

I'm so excited and cannot wait for the transformation!  I'm looking forward to posting pictures when it is complete.

Offended by Rice

Poor Uncle Ben.  He is being stripped from his cameo atop the famous orange box of rice that we all know and love.  Why?  Apparently because he's black and that's racist.  Guys, I just don't get it.  The claimed mission of the racial movement is to bring diversity and enlightenment to everyday living.  What accomplishes that more than having well-loved products that feature illustrations of black individuals in their branding?  If all food products highlighted only white chefs, homemakers, and cooks in their logos, someone would be shouting racism about that (watch your back, Chef Boyardee!).

What is offensive or racist about Uncle Ben's photo?  He is clean cut, handsome, and well dressed in a suit and bow tie.  He's not dirty, missing teeth, or promoting an air of ignorance.  So why is his image so offensive; because he's black?  I find that incredibly racist.

The same situation exists with poor Aunt Jemima.  She has donned the syrup bottle for years, and no one was offended.  Why is her illustration suddenly so offensive?  It's because people are out there searching for offense.  David Bednar said, "To be offended is a choice we make; it is not a condition inflicted or imposed upon us by someone or something else."  If you are a person who is consistently offended, you are making the choice to be so.

Just to give you some background on the Uncle Ben's brand, it was named in the 1940s for a famous rice farmer in Texas, referred to as Uncle Ben.  The image for Uncle Ben himself was modeled after a waiter in the Chicago restaurant where the idea was born.  There is nothing degrading about his past, he does not represent slavery, and his image was not meant to be demeaning or insulting.

I think the company is making a big mistake if they remove his likeness.  If anyone is truly offended by Uncle Ben's image, they have the right to buy a different brand.  If someone wants to cause a fuss because of this smiling man in the orange circle, I think they need to check their heart instead.

Randomness of Life

I was sitting on the front porch, working on homework, and I heard a really loud helicopter.  I looked up, because it sounded really close, and what I observed took up most of the sky ahead of me!  It was the Goodyear blimp!  It was circling some area hospitals to thank health care workers!  By the time I got my phone out and ready, I had to kind of chase it down the street to snap a photo.  I still only got half of its body, but you can see by this 13-story apartment building how low it was!

Before I started school two years ago, I had a short (well, longer than short) list of things I wanted to accomplish.  I accomplished most of the tasks, except for painting the living room.  I went as far as selecting paint, but it's been stored in my basement ever since.  Yesterday, I decided that this is the week.  Since it's been two years, I'm sort of regretting the color choice, but I'm still going with it.  This afternoon, I took everything off the walls and moved out all the furniture.  The two small couches and the piano are in the center of the room.  Big Sis washed down the walls for me and I filled all the holes.  Tomorrow morning, I will be all ready to go and can start painting early!

Hopefully my painting job wraps up in a couple days, because I'm having my very first patio get-together on Thursday evening!  At the end of fall, we put in a pretty large patio on the back of our house.  It's something we wanted to do for years, but couldn't afford.  Hubby decided on stamped concrete, and I must admit, it looks so much better than I ever thought it would.  We were also able to afford some low-end patio furniture.  Right in the midst of the quarantine, we added landscaping.  It couldn't have come at a better time!  I have spent so much time out there and have really enjoyed that space!  Since I didn't really get to say goodbye to my teacher friends, I decided to have them all over for a patio night.  We can sit around and chat outside while maintaining social distance.  I'm so excited to see real people again; I can't wait! 

I'm trying to work on my negativity.  It seems like every time I open my mouth, I notice complaining coming out.  I've been much more critical lately.  I don't know if it's my old age or the additional stress I'm carrying, but I'm actually getting sick and tired of myself.  I miss my former sweet and cheerful disposition.  I'm making a real attempt to be more positive, but it's so incredibly hard.  Ugh.

I'm in week 7 of 8 in my geography class, and it's gone swimmingly well!  I've only been docked one point thus far, and the course hasn't been all that bad.  Unfortunately, it causes me to immerse myself in current events, which I try to avoid, but it's almost over.  In another week, I begin my very last college class!

An Open Letter to Dog Owners

OK, we're changing gears for a quick second.  There's something that I'd like to say to some of the dog owners in my neighborhood, but I'm much too chicken.  I understand that your dog is your baby and that you love it like a member of the family.  However, your dog is loud.  I love my children very much, yet I don't leave them tied up to a post in the front yard for hours on end, as they scream (bark) incessantly to be released.

Here's a quick tip:  if your dog is barking and barking and barking, he probably wants to come inside or be untied.  I'm not a dog owner and I know that.  If you're not smart enough to realize that, perhaps you shouldn't have a pet.

As I sat on my couch early this morning, enjoying the cool morning breeze, I had to listen to a loud, barking dog for about 15 minutes constant.  The dog was not on my street, it was faint enough to know that it was at least a block away.  I cannot image how loud it would have been to a direct next-door neighbor.  I'm certain the owner knew it was barking.  From the sound, it was a very large dog. 

The day my 4-year-old niece died, I pulled my daughter out of school and we came home.  (I worked at her middle school that year).  We sat on the porch and reminisced about the happy moments we had with her during her short life.  The rottweiler across the street stood got loose and ran over to where we were sitting.  Thankfully, the owner noticed and came to get him.  We were crying, but she didn't seem to notice.  She tied him up, where he sat and barked at us over and over and over.  On that beautiful May afternoon, we had to move inside because of her dog.

On a September day, a day which I consider the worst day of my life, that same dog nearly caused me to do something rash.  Due to circumstances I will not share on this blog, I was a distraught human being who was collapsed on floor in my hallway, sobbing.  That dog barked and barked and barked.  It had to have lasted at least 45 minutes.  I was in such a fragile state, I nearly lost my mind.   

Same dog, another time- the barking had been going on for several hours.  The neighbor beside me couldn't take any more and he called the police.  I watched in a cowardly fashion through my upstairs blinds.  The officer walked up to the house, past the barking dog, and had a short conversation with the owner.  She moved him inside afterward.  Following that incident, there was a huge ordeal on Facebook.  She blew up with tons of profanity and great offense.  She was furious that she had been reported for a barking dog.  Her defense was that dogs bark....that's what they do.  She and her husband were both irate and got all their Facebook friends stirred up as well.  I didn't understand how, as a neighbor, we are expected to endure the constant barking, but she can't be expected to have the decency to keep her dog quiet.  The poor animal had a chain that was probably 6-10 feet long and had worn a dirt circle in the yard in his limited walking space. 

I'm not an animal lover, and I won't pretend to be, but my understanding of pet ownership is for companionship.  If you want to include your pet as part of the family, that is fine.  What I don't understand is why you would allow that loved family member to endure obvious misery as it is chained up outside (disturbing the entire neighborhood in the process) as you sit inside watching television, ignoring its needs. 

So here's my plea for today:  if you notice your dogs outside barking, please bring them in or find out what their needs are.  I understand that dogs bark; they're supposed to.  When the barking doesn't let up, something is wrong, and that need should be met.

Thank you for your time.  Rant over. 

Stressin'

I'm exhausted.  It's all I talk about.  It consumes every conversation and nearly every thought.

People are sending me texts about disturbing things that are happening in both the police and demonstrative communities.  I'm sure they think they're doing me a great service, but I'm shielding myself from news outlets for a reason. 

Apparently, Amazon has allowed the sale of anti-police shirts that condone hate.  I will not repeat the slogan on my blog because I don't want to give credit to this horrible atrocity.  Basically, it lumps all officers into one group and labels them murderers.  I just don't understand.  I thought that was the purpose of the entire movement- to stop prejudice, stereotypes, and labeling.  How can someone condemn one kind of hate and condone another?  Fortunately, the listing that sold the shirts has been removed, but similar shirts are sold elsewhere. 

As I stated before, I have removed all news media from my world, so forgive me that I have no concrete facts or actual data regarding the recent events in Atlanta.  From what I hear, the victim was running away from the officer and was shot in the back.  For that reason, the officer was criticized and charged.  I cannot judge or defend his actions, due to my lack of information, however, I will offer one thought to ponder.  Cops have had very specific training, and they have milliseconds, combined with a great rush of adrenaline, to implement that training.  When someone points a weapon directly at a cop, his initial reaction is to fire.  If that taser would have struck the officer and left him incapacitated, the shooter could have easily helped himself to the officer's firearm.  The officer did not have minutes to consider the current state of affairs, nor was he able to question his initial reaction to determine if it was the best course of action.  His response was immediate, and his first line of defense (his taser) was missing.  Hubby said his training officer taught him that, when confronted with a life-threatening situation, it's better to be judged by twelve than carried by six.  Although, never in the past have officers been fired on the spot and charged with murder.  Up to this point, a leave of absence has been standard while investigations were taking place.

The closest my husband has ever come to shooting someone is when he was faced with a disgruntled man who was not in his right mind.  The man reached into his waistband, pulled out something dark, and aimed it at my husband.  Hubby said he felt his finger twitch and he nearly fired.  As it turned out, the object was a cell phone.  The other man almost got shot for making a really stupid choice.  If my husband had hesitated for a fraction of a second too long, and if it had actually been a gun, I would now be a widow.  Too many decisions have to be made too quickly.

As I stated in an earlier post, I do not defend the actions of Derek Chauvin in any way.  I'm so angry that my husband is being lumped into the same boat as this terrible excuse for a police officer and a human being.  Consider the worst possible version of a worker in your own profession, whether that person is a rapist, pedophile, child abuser, or murderer.  Now imagine how terrible it would be if you had to endure the wrath of that individual's crimes.  That's what our good officers are facing every day.  I can't imagine how anything shy of countless years can undo the damage that is being done right now.  May God have mercy on our society. 

Intention, Not Attention

Is it still considered a good deed when you broadcast it to others?

That's one of my pet peeves- when people film themselves doing good deeds, then they plaster it all over social media so they can get credit.  Are you doing it to benefit others or for yourself?  I love the quote, "Good deeds should be done with intention not for attention."

Allow me a moment to brag on myself.  I apologize in advance.  I'm justifying my actions based on my anonymity; I don't know any of you.  I'm not publishing this account on Facebook or anywhere I actually have an identity.  So does that make it any better?  Maybe not, but whatever.

I was supposed to pick up my daughter after an event, but I was running a few minutes late.  A friend decided to drop her off at home for me.  As I was returning home alone, I saw two ladies beginning to cross my street on the main road.  The older of the two was carrying an infant car seat.  I remember how heavy those are, so I paused on the main road to allow her to cross the side street.  I felt terrible that she was trying to carry that heavy seat; she appeared to be in her 50s.  I turned onto the side street and rolled down my window.  I asked where they were headed and if they needed a ride.  They named a pediatrician that was located in the exact opposite direction.  When I told them they were walking the wrong way, they were despondent.  I offered to drive them there, and they accepted.

Never in my life have I picked up strangers in the car, but I could not allow these two women to continue on their journey with that car seat.  It would have been close to a half-mile walk.  As it turns out, the baby arrived two months early and they didn't have the stroller yet for the car seat.  This was his first appointment.  They had taken the bus from a nearby town, and had turned the wrong way when they got off.  They were extremely grateful for the ride; grandma said she would have been lying in someone's front yard if I had not picked them up.

After I dropped them off, guilt overcame me once again.  How did I expect them to get back to the bus stop?  When I got home, I called the pediatrician office and provided my phone number.  I told the receptionist to have the ladies call me after the appointment and I would pick them up.  Thankfully, they had told me the first name of the baby.

That's how life should be- people helping people.  It wasn't hard.  I had no agenda that day.  I was relaxing on the porch, reading a book.  I've been blessed and it was nice to bless someone else in return.  Oh, there was one thing I forgot to mention.  They were black.  My husband is a white cop.  See, we don't all hate one another- the media spews that image.  We got along just fine and we didn't even have to take a Facebook selfie to document it.

The Silent Police Wife

I'll admit- one of the main reasons I returned to my blog after such a long time away is because I need a platform to manage all these emotions and a release of my new anxieties.  I've always been a very focused, calm, relaxed person in the past, but I'm starting to experience the other side for the first time in my life.

You see, I'm the silent wife of a police officer.

I can't watch the news.  I can't get on social media.  I just can't.  My stomach turns and does flip-flops; I sob and mourn for the other women in my position whose husbands have been taken from them because of these violent and despicable times in which we are living.

I'll start right off the bat by saying that racism is wrong.  The movement that law enforcement and racism go hand in hand is ridiculous.  Both my husband and I are supportive of the human race, no matter what nationality or ethnicity a person is, or what color of skin they have.  Now that I have clarified that, please consider the rest of my thoughts.

People who are judging all police officers by the horrendous actions of one (or a few) are committing the same acts as racists.  Judging an entire group of people by a stereotype is wrong.  Derek Chauvin was a creep and does not deserve to represent the entire police force of the United States.  In that same manner, a black criminal should not be the representative for the entire African-American race.  Fair enough?

https://www.nytimes.com/2020/06/04/opinion/
the-argument-protest-riot-violence.html

Two months ago, everyone loved the police.  My husband was called upon several times daily to lead parades through neighborhoods to celebrate kids' birthdays during the quarantine.  Everybody loved that.  In 2001, cops were the heroes of the country.  Talk about solidarity- people bought police officers meals and would give them the shirts off their backs.  Today, people are writing racial slurs on police cruisers as they bust out all the windows.  How did all of this change in such a short time?

In my opinion, most of the people who are against the police are people who have been in trouble with the law.  I have no statistics for that; it's my opinion.  A young adult who grew up close to my family has stated his disdain for law enforcement very openly.  He is a disrespectful punk who breaks into buildings to take extreme photography and to skateboard.  He gets mouthy with security when confronted about trespassing.  I'm not surprised he doesn't support the police.

https://www.theguardian.com/us-news/2018/mar/30/
devonte-hart-police-information-portland

A lot of the opposition says that police are only out to catch people doing wrong.  That couldn't be further from the truth.  I have done countless ride-alongs with my husband, and I see what a day in his shoes looks like.  He does a welfare check on an elderly woman whose out-of-state daughter hasn't been able to contact her in a week.  If he finds her dead, he has to tell that daughter.  He has to persuade a mentally challenged adult that her group home is a safe place and she needs to return with her case worker.  The promise of a 5th Avenue candy bar and a Mountain Dew (that he purchases himself at the gas station) is what convinces her to go back.  My husband comforts a terrified mother who was crouched on the floor of her home because a bullet just sailed through her teenage daughter's bedroom window.  Her ex-boyfriend is in a street gang and they were making a point.  On a bitterly cold winter day, my husband noticed "David" crouched in the dugout of the ball field.  He didn't kick out the homeless man or berate him.  He opened up his trunk, pulled out a bag and took it to the man.  It had some non-perishable food, a hat, and other basic supplies.  I asked why he didn't offer the man more help, but he informed me that David refuses public assistance.  He chooses his life on the street, but will accept occasional supplies.

All of those stories are true.  I witnessed them.  And half of them involved African Americans.  Was my husband less willing to help the black people?  Absolutely not.  They're all his people, the citizens of his town. 

My hope for this country is that all hate will be eliminated- hate against people based on their skin color (red, yellow, black, or white) and hate against people because of their profession.  What good can come from hate?  We are on the verge of a civil war, and we are going to split this great nation in half if the hate doesn't stop.  Before you act, before you speak, stop and think if it will do good or stir up more anger and strife.  We need to decrease the tension and attempt to restore faith in the human race.

Stop the violence.  Stop the hate.

4 years

I can't believe it's been nearly 4 years since I've blogged on this platform.  An awful lot has changed.  I entered my 40s.  Two sons have graduated high school and are pursuing engineering degrees.  That "Baby Girl" of mine is entering her second year of middle school, and her "Big Sis" will be starting her third year of high school!

My last post talked about returning to work after an 18-year hiatus.  Well, that kind of worked out.  I got hired into the district by Thanksgiving of that year and found out I had a niche for students with emotional disturbance and behavior disorders.  I've held two different jobs in that capacity, and have since realized my desire to move to the next level.  I enrolled in an online college, and I'm now one class away from my special education degree!  I will be licensed K-12 as a mild to moderate intervention specialist.  Working full time and taking classes full time, while still caring for my family and household has been a tremendous undertaking.

That cruise I last wrote about represented a major transition point in our lives.  It happened on our first day of vacation.  Before we set sail, Hubby received a call from his job.  Upon his return back to work, his pay would be significantly reduced- by 28%, to be specific.  It put a tremendous damper on the entire trip.  The reason is that his employers were angry with him for pursuing the police academy.  His full intention was to remain dedicated to his primary job, only working police side jobs on the weekend.  It was actually none of their business what he did outside work hours.  They told him he wasn't being a team player because he took on a second job.  When he returned the first day, a coworker asked, "What are you doing here?"  Hubby simply stated that he was back from vacation.  The friend informed Hubby that they assumed he would quit, so they already replaced him.  That was a shot to the gut.  After talking to our attorney, Hubby decided not to return.  He worked 28 hours a week as a part-time officer for quite some time while I made peanuts.  It was an extremely trying time for us, especially financially.

Fast-forward a bit...the Chief asked Hubby if he would ever be interested in becoming a full-time officer.  Hubby confirmed that it was his dream, but he was past the age cutoff.  The Chief replied, "Hmmm...let's see what we can do about that."  After many months, a lot of paperwork, and petitioning of the right people, the Chief was able to get the city ordinance changed to allow citizens up to age 45 to take the civil service exam!  Hubby did well, and was hired full time a few months after that!  It was a blessing from God!

I doubt any of the people who read my blog back in the day are still around, but if you are, I wanted to give an update about my life.  It keeps moving along, keeps changing, and keeps progressing.  Sometimes you wish you could hit the pause button, other times you'd like to rewind or fast-forward.  None of that is possible, however, and we must each embrace the moment in which we are living.

Here's to today.  Cheers!