Archive for the ‘Rants’ Category
I’m doing it again. I’m jumping on the bandwagon of the latest trending topic on Twitter: Pat Robertson. I should know better than to talk politics or religion, but I’m impacted by this story in two ways: one, I’ve been to Haiti and found the people there lovely and enchanting although living in extreme poverty. Two, I’m a Christian.
Let me stop there to say I am embarrassed by Robertson’s comments regarding Haiti. You know, if he’d been giving a history lesson and telling the story of this dude who wanted to save Haiti from Napoleon so he sold his soul to the devil and just left it at that, I’d be okay. I thought it was a rather interesting story, one akin to Icharus wanting wings or Zeus sleeping around on Hera. Well, wrong era wrong continent but go with me here. While he didn’t right out say it, it appears he’s intimating that Haiti is cursed (by God I’m guessing) and that this earthquake is a result of said curse.
Having been to Haiti, I can say that it would indeed be easy to say the country is “cursed” (and by that I do not mean on God’s list of countries to smite in 2010). The people are incredibly poor there. Poor isn’t even a good word to use! The country is brown and dusty – animals roam the streets, dirty water puddles on the corners tainted by urine and feces, and children play right.there. There’s no topsoil in Haiti, no system for water (it’s caught in cisterns when (if) it rains) and when we were there, electricity only existed for about two hours a day, IF you were lucky.
And, sure enough, an hour crossing the Haitian border to the Dominican Republic is like stepping through the looking-glass: suddenly there’s lush green foliage, plants, flowers, grass, waterfalls, it’s a veritable land of plenty.
But back to Robertson.
I’m a Christian. Have been my whole life. I remember my mom watching Robertson when I was younger. I never minded him much until my adult life when many Christian leaders had their own failings as humans: affairs, homosexual relationships, embezzelment, etc. Wow, these are people just like me, making mistakes. These same people who represented Christianity to the world because of their far reaching programs and television shows.
Here’s what it comes down to for ME, in my OWN personal opinion.
Pat Robertson should have used his airtime to encourage Christians, Bhuddists, Muslims, Athiests humans to pray for, help, donate, send aid to Haiti.
If Pat Robertson wants this earthquake to truly be a “blessing in disguise” then he needs to not make harsh comments.
Cause hey, I’m just SURE that the people of Haiti will be LINING UP and coming in DROVES to turn Christian and follow this God who smited them, killing men women and little babies. After all, who doesn’t want to follow THAT God?
*hem*
Dear Haitians et. al:
I’m sorry that Pat Robertson made comments that make the rest of us Christians appear to be simple-minded, hateful witch hunters. Apparently he forgot the words “God is loving, gracious, kind, slow to anger, patient, forgiving…” I’ll stop there cause you get the point. Please don’t judge the rest of us based on his personal opinions. I’m pretty sure this earthquake was caused by this thing called a fault line.
So tired of people using religion to make other people feel bad about themselves, to scare others into believing in God. I get that we Christians beleive if you don’t believe in Jesus then you’re condemned to eternal damnation in hell (insert warm fuzzy feelings here) but for the love of God – really – knock it the hell off. If we’d spend half the time helping others, showing true love and concern for our fellow humans then maybe people would think “Hey, Christians are pretty cool. They aren’t stuffy at all!”
I’m hoping to go on a mission trip to Haiti this summer, returning to the city I visited back in ‘95 or ‘96. I’m not going to do dramas in the street or preach to thousands hoping they will turn or burn.
Instead, I’m going to really do what Jesus would likely have done: get in with the people, the outcasts, the downtrodden, the hurting, the homeless, the orphaned, and I’m going to love them. Yep. Love love. Like, ooh here’s a hug. Or, hey, let me make dinner for this displaced family. How ’bout that?
And I’m not going to mention that these souls that they are cursed. I’m instead going to look at them like the people who were wonderfully and fearfully made. By God.
Now, make a comment, but BE NICE! If ya’ll start hatin then I’ma delete your comment. Or put a curse on you.
Another update:
Well, sad news. It’s been confirmed by the Brevard County Sheriff’s office that this little guy did indeed pass away. So if you want to help/can help this family, check out twitter feeds for more info, or go to: http://ilikeitfrantic.net/2009/12/prayers-and-hugs-for-the-ross-family/
UPDATE
Yeah, don’t be hating. Nothing wrong with wanting to help someone but checking it out first…
There’s NO local police reports, no local news story. I work for the media industry and there’s no way a story like this would go unreported. Seriously: mom alone, hubby overseas, baby dies?
I’m concerned. Super concerned. Not just because people are giving money to what*could* be a hoax (hey, I could be wrong) but because if this never happened, then a mother is speaking as though her son is dead. That’s terribly troubling. From a psychological standpoint, what does that say???
Original post:
Yes, I’m jumping on the bandwagon.
A few minutes ago I read a tweet by a kind person wishing well to someone who’d apparently lost a loved one. I clicked on the @name and discovered a few tweets by a lady whose son apparently drowned in Florida about 16 hours ago. Very sad, tragic, shocking indeed. But wait…something isn’t sitting right.
Who tweets “Please pray, 2 year old fell in a pool” followed up by odd posts with pictures. She never really says the child died, but it’s assumed based on the comments (read here: http://twitter.com/military_mom). Plus it’s foggy out – likely chilly. I lived in Fort Myers: WE NEVER went swimming in December. But okay, maybe she lives farther south. Maybe it’s a heated pool. But what’s with the chickens?
Now mind you, if I was at the hospital and was trying to get some prayers, yeah I may twitter. There’s something about the camaraderie of your friends online – whether you’ve met face to face or not. I tweeted when a beloved friend died a few months ago. But my baby?
Fog rolls in. Hour later baby fell in pool. At what point between trying to get him out, calling 911, police, fire, medical rolling on scene, attempting CPR… at what point did she tweet this prayer request?
Something just doesn’t seem right. There are no news reports at all. The AP Florida Bureau has nothing. Google search has nothing with the mom’s name or the child’s name.
Here’s what I think. Sympathies to this mom if this happened. I hope she catches a break from the nasty comments putting blame on her. If tweeting brings you comfort and some therapeutic value, keep doing it.
However, as someone who has worked in Law Enforcement, I suggest someone pay this home a visit and check on mom and baby. It isn’t impossible that maybe she’s just overwhelmed and needs help (her hubby is deployed right now). This could be a little shout-out for someone to help her out. It may be a big fat red flag that something isn’t right.
Looks like this gal is heading up the research department: http://twitter.com/madisonmcgraw. She’s catching flack too, but she has a point: just verify the story. (Check out her blog here: http://girlarsonist.blogspot.com/ )
If it’s true, I’m sure LOADS of people will flock to assist this family right away.
Either way, this woman needs help pronto: either her son just died OR something else is going on and she feels the need to lie and say he did.
Comments welcome but BE NICE.
Why my kids deserve medals
Posted by: mswiggie
December 9th, 2009 >> I Can Be Serious Too, You Know..., Rants
WAIT! DON’T GO!! I promise, this isn’t a blog about my perfect little angelic kids. It’s much more than that. Read on!
Ayup: I’m a single mom. I have two kids – 10 and 7. They’re great kids and I’m not just saying that because I’m their mom. They’re just mellow, chill, friendly little people. They slept through the night at 5 weeks, potty trained after a few days, never had the terrible twos, and get along rather well with each other even though they have occasional spats. But they don’t hit or bite each other and never throw tantrums. I’m truly blessed to have such great kids. They aren’t perfect though: my daughter has a drama streak in her that tells me she’ll likely win an Oscar before she’s 20. My son feels the need to police what all of the other children do, so I’m guessing a career in law enforcement is on his horizon.
I’ve been a ’single’ parent ever since my daughter (the 10 year old) was born. Even though I was married, I was alone the whole ride from all the doctor’s appointments and sonograms to the scary pre-term labor stints at the ER. As a matter of fact, it was during one of those ER trips – hooked up to IVs and heart rate monitors – that I realized my then-husband was a word I’d rather not use here. I’ll never forget the day he said to me “If you want so much attention, get a puppy.”
It was a few short months later that his true colors surfaced and I realized I’d married an abusive alcoholic. I was cut off from my family and friends, not allowed to have anyone over and my phone calls were monitored. I was working but barely made enough to cover the bills. His money went to buy vodka and cigars. Eventually I couldn’t keep up with my own car-payment and my car was repo’d and I was literally at his mercy to go anywhere or do anything.
I’ll keep a long story short so I don’t bore you with all the scary details. Let’s just say I’m surprised my life hasn’t been turned into a Lifetime Movie of the Week yet.
Yep, there were frightening times when I thought maybe I was going to die. But there were times of victory, too, like when I finally got a job waiting tables and saved enough money to move into my own little section 8 townhouse, two kids in tow. They shared a room and I slept on the couch, but oh the sweet bliss of not having to be afraid or upset when I went to bed!
I’m the mom who found bags of groceries by the front door and money in the mail to pay for electricity. I’m the mom who went to bed on Christmas Eve crying because I had no cookies or gifts for my little ones, only to be woken up by wonderful and amazing friends bearing BAGS of gifts, clothes and food for my children.
I’m the mom who left everything behind and took my two little children and left the state in a move of secrecy to get away from what was an increasingly volatile situation with my at-the-time husband. We lived in a little 5th wheel trailer in my uncle’s backyard, the two kids and I sleeping in a tiny bed together.
We eventually moved up to sleeping on a blow-up mattress in a garage, then sharing a room in a house, and eventually moving to Raleigh to live with my brother.
And now, 6 years later, I have my own place (my own bed!). The kids FINALLY each have their own bedrooms after moving again and again. We’ve been at the same school for three years, the same church. I’ve been trying to establish roots for my kids, security, stability, routine. So far so good.
I finally got a divorce a few years ago when a family member paid for an attorney so I could get custody of the kids. Last Christmas the kids flew out to Colorado to see their dad for the first time after 5 years. He finally started paying child support a year ago – almost consistently – until last month.
Last night he called me in a fury: he’d been arrested for not paying child support, for being in contempt of court (he won’t provide his employment information to the county).
The funny thing? It’s all MY fault that he’s suffering so much, and I need to close the child support case so they leave him alone (and of course he’ll still send me child support every month). If I don’t do this, then he’s flying to North Carolina to file for full custody.
Sure, no big deal. If you are reading this you are probably scoffing like I did.
But I’ve gone down a rabbit trail. I was telling you about my great kids: my kids who every Christmas, every birthday know that they won’t get the latest and greatest toy, they may get one or two little things but they never hold their breath. We see cool stuff at the store and they say things like “Hey this is sooooo cool! I wish I could have it!!!” Only to follow-up with a statement like “Oh, it’s too expensive. We probably can’t have it.”
Never snotty, never hateful, just resigned to the fact that our life is like “this.” They don’t complain when their pants get too small and ride up at the ankles, or when they have PB&J sandwiches for weeks on end for lunch, or Hamburger Helper for dinner again.
They didn’t complain when their dad gave them a Wii and an Xbox the day after Thanksgiving but said they had to leave them in Colorado. Instead they appreciate the fact they finally have one (I guess I’m the only one who thinks that was super mean to do to them…).
I’ve done my best to never say anything bad about their dad in front of them or to them. I make excuses for why he doesn’t send birthday cards or gifts, or why he never calls or writes or emails.
Yeah, it kills me to hear the kids say life is better at dad’s house where they have all this nice stuff like clothes that fit and a parent who is home all the time, and video games, and flat-screen tvs, and a cooler car.
But then they hug ME and say that those things don’t really matter in the long run, as long as we are together. *sniffle*
So, do you know a single mom? Kids of a single mom? Chances are they’ve all had a rough go at things. They are probably having a rough go at things right this minute. Maybe. Then again, you’ve got single moms who don’t sit around complaining all day and get up and get out there and try to make it better for themselves, for their kids.
We sacrifice as much as a married mom does, and sometimes a lot more. Our kids sacrifice too, and learn that life is just different for them without a dad around.
Sure, my case is extreme. My kids’ dad lives a billion miles away, not up the street. I have my brother to rely and count on (and oh is he ever there for us) but he only has so much he can give to.
It’s pretty much up to ME to continue to give the kids what they need most, and that is the character, integrity and strength to be good people even when in the face of adversity. To make good choices no matter how difficult that may be. To understand that not having the latest and greatest doesn’t make you a nerd or a loser, but makes you appreciate life so much more.
So yeah, this year I’d like to award my kids medals for being amazing, resilient, loving, gracious. And they’re damn funny, too. I’m taking consolation in this during the times I feel like the world’s lamest mom when I’m too tired to read a book at bedtime, don’t have a spare minute to cut the edges off a PB&J sandwich, or to build a lego castle. Cause I know my kids are going to be a-okay. Even if I feel like we’re not.
***If you or someone you know is a victim of domestic violence, GET HELP! Contact your local law enforcement agency, department of social services, or check out this site for more information: http://www.ncadv.org/protectyourself/GettingHelp.php
I wouldn’t think it was that difficult to mark a highway as NORTH or SOUTH bound, or EAST or WEST bound. But the confounded nincompoops that designed the beltline here in NC… well, I don’t know WHAT they were thinking.
What direction ARE you traveling in, exactly, when you are driving in a big circle? Make that two circles.
Today I found out that in Raleigh, you can go east and west and south all at the same time. Let me explain:
My directions to get to point “A” were to go SOUTH on the highway. Got that?
When I get to said highway, the only two options I have are East or West. NOT South. Sigh. I decided to take the “East” on-ramp, since the “to” city was the same as the directions.
I get on the highway with my intended exit in mind: 298A. However, I see that I’m at exit 15. Then 16. Then 17. Crapola. Does this mean I’m going the wrong way? I can’t imagine driving allll the way to exit 298! If the numbers had been counting down, I’d have been okay with it!
Just before I decided to get off of my East-bound path from exit 20-something, the upcoming exit number is suddenly 300. Then 299. I was excited. However, the highway sign now said that I was driving WEST. Wait, what? Wasn’t I just driving East!?!?!? At no time do I recall making a 180 turn in the middle of the highway to switch directions!!!
A little annoyed, I kept on going. If I could just get to exit 298A, I’d be happy. Success! I made it to my destination.
Now to get back home. I figured that since the original directions, which said “Go South (which is really East) meant that to get home, I’d go North, which should logically be West. However, since the highway I exited said I was driving West, I wondered if I should go East. Anyone following me? Yeah, the confused feeling you have is the same one I had.
I decided to take my chances and got on the Eastbound highway, which is where I started off on this crazy trip to begin with so it really SHOULDN’T have been right, but remember East is West is South is North. After all, the place where I’d driven to was located southwest of where I live. Made sense to me.
Didn’t work. I got on the highway from exit 298A hoping to see 299. To my dismay I saw that the upcoming exit was 297…296. Grr. Wrong way again!
I hopped off at the next exit, which was really a roundabout to get onto another highway… this time going South of course. Grr again. I drove about 3 miles before I was able to get off and turn around, going North back to the beltway. Grumble. Now which way did I just come from, was it East or West?
It didn’t matter, the exit signs that were upcoming were only for the Inner or Outer beltline. Not North, South, East OR West. GAH!!!
“A man must have designed this system” was the first thing to pop into my head, followed by a panic as I had about 30 seconds to pick which lane to get in! Inner or Outer!?
One of my options runs clockwise, or south-to-west, and the other runs counter-clockwise, or north-to-east. Or something like that.
I’m confused.
I picked the Inner beltline – innies always sound better than outies. I’m just sayin.
About a mile later, the entire road split – I could again go either North-East or North-West… I wasn’t sure exactly where I was located. Considering the fact that I was supposed to be on the same road I came in on, I don’t remember the road splitting at all! Thankfully, I stuck to the get-over-to-the-far-left lane and stayed on my highway. I think the other highway went to Alaska or something.
I finally made it home and checked out a map to see exactly what I did wrong. As far as I can tell, the roads I drove on today don’t even exist in this reality but rather some alternate universe that sucks in motorists unaware.