We suffered a setback today. After about a month with no seizures, Seizure Dog had 3 today in about 12 hours. The first one was at 3 this morning, the last around 3 this afternoon. He's also had almost three times his normal medication. I'm having a little pity party because I'm 100 miles away stuck in a hotel and my husband has had to deal with it all by himself. Yes, he's a big boy. No, it wouldn't be any different if I were home. No, I couldn't do anything that he isn't doing. But yes, I do wish I were there. I could hold the dog's head to keep him from hurting himself. I could feed him ice cream to pump his glucose back up after the seizure. I could just hold him and try to give comfort. I could give my husband a break so he could rest.
But here I sit.
Setbacks can be tough to handle. We'd been rocking along; thinking all was well. Proud of ourselves for rescuing another of God's creatures. So pleased that it had been so easy.
Sometimes we need those "reminders". We're not always in charge. Contrary to popular belief. Its tough to step back. To "let go and let God". We all like to have a certain amount of control. Not everyone is a control freak, but to totally let go is really tough as well. Its all in how we handle the setback. Do we regress? or fight harder? Do we accept the changes needed? or are we stubborn and insist our way is better? Do we reach out for help, and accept that which is given? Or do we give up and forget all about doing whatever it is? Setbacks are sometimes good things. They can serve as an opportunity to reassess, adjust, and attack the problem anew.
For us, I know that we didn't do anything in this case to cause the seizures. We have searched the house for any kind of triggers, kept logs of circumstances when there were seizures looking for commonalities. We've set reminders to keep the medication on the same daily schedule. I hope, for the little dog's sake, that this setback is very temporary. My wish is that he'll be up and running with the pack again tomorrow - more heavily medicated that he was yesterday - but back to his old self. And we'll take all the information in and see what we do need to do differently to change the course and stay on it.
Wednesday, December 17, 2008
Saturday, December 13, 2008
Equal Time
Lest anyone think my memories are one-sided, I wanted to share this one. Snow days. We had one here in town the other day when the winter storm blew through. Mind you, there was no snow, but there was the threat and some sleet so the schools all closed. Apparently there were a few extra days left over from the hurricane.....
Anyway, my husband commented that he used to love snow days but figured I hated them, being the geeky nerdy kid that I was. No so.
My mom was a school teacher so she was home with us all day. Snow days were some of the rare days that mom would venture into the kitchen (sorry Mom, but you didn't cook much when we were growing up!) We used to make homemade hot chocolate - the kind that you had to mix up in a giant bowl first (a full can of cocoa, a full box of powered milk, a large container of creamer, etc.) and then store the mix in large containers or split it and share it with your friends. It seemed to make the best hot chocolate! And since snow days were very rare in our part of the country, it would be awhile until you'd make more so you'd savor each cup.
And then there were the baked goods! Mom always loved to make an ooey gooey butter cake. Delicious! Couldn't even sniff at a piece right now without gaining 5 pounds, but those cakes were to die for. And the peanut butter cookies that you pressed a Hershey's kiss into while they were hot so the chocolate would melt. Mmmmm.. We used to get the task of unwrapping all the kisses while Mom rolled the cookies in sugar. Of course, we used the roll of peanut butter cookie dough so that made the process a little faster. Those cookies didn't last long. Later on there were other cakes introduced into the process. The pina colada cake was fun because you got to poke holes in it with a straw and then suck the cake out of the straw. No telling how many germs we probably shared. But we were all family.
Anyway. Other good memories from the simple stuff. Stuff to share. Hopefully I've been successful at creating a few of these with my loved ones.
Anyway, my husband commented that he used to love snow days but figured I hated them, being the geeky nerdy kid that I was. No so.
My mom was a school teacher so she was home with us all day. Snow days were some of the rare days that mom would venture into the kitchen (sorry Mom, but you didn't cook much when we were growing up!) We used to make homemade hot chocolate - the kind that you had to mix up in a giant bowl first (a full can of cocoa, a full box of powered milk, a large container of creamer, etc.) and then store the mix in large containers or split it and share it with your friends. It seemed to make the best hot chocolate! And since snow days were very rare in our part of the country, it would be awhile until you'd make more so you'd savor each cup.
And then there were the baked goods! Mom always loved to make an ooey gooey butter cake. Delicious! Couldn't even sniff at a piece right now without gaining 5 pounds, but those cakes were to die for. And the peanut butter cookies that you pressed a Hershey's kiss into while they were hot so the chocolate would melt. Mmmmm.. We used to get the task of unwrapping all the kisses while Mom rolled the cookies in sugar. Of course, we used the roll of peanut butter cookie dough so that made the process a little faster. Those cookies didn't last long. Later on there were other cakes introduced into the process. The pina colada cake was fun because you got to poke holes in it with a straw and then suck the cake out of the straw. No telling how many germs we probably shared. But we were all family.
Anyway. Other good memories from the simple stuff. Stuff to share. Hopefully I've been successful at creating a few of these with my loved ones.
Thursday, December 11, 2008
Memories
While my dad is never very far from my thoughts, he is especially close at Christmas. There are some annoying traits that we share and he has been front and center the last couple of days.
I remember Daddy stacking up six or seven Christmas albums on the old stereo and just letting them play. And play. And play. Absolutely drove my mother nuts! While the technology has changed, I just put on the Christmas music channel on DirecTv, the end result is the same. I've been playing the music this week while I try to decorate the house. My husband, not a fan.
Next thing, the Christmas lights. I had visions last night of my dad with the lights strung out all over the den trying to find the bulb that was out. Strands and strands of lights all over the room. My problem last night was that I hung all the lights on the tree FIRST - before I checked to see if they worked. Two of the six strings did. So I had to take them all down and unplug all the bad ones and start over. The bottom third of the tree is illuminated. Husband has on his to do list to go buy more lights.
The other thing I like to do, once all the lights are on the tree, is to sit in the dark and look at the lights and listen to the above-mentioned Christmas music. I can't tell you how many times I found Daddy in the chair in the living room doing just that. And I would join him. And I believe in my heart that he joins me now when I do it.
Funny how the simplest things can make the best memories. No big planned, constructed memories. Just the everyday stuff that sticks. Think about it.
I remember Daddy stacking up six or seven Christmas albums on the old stereo and just letting them play. And play. And play. Absolutely drove my mother nuts! While the technology has changed, I just put on the Christmas music channel on DirecTv, the end result is the same. I've been playing the music this week while I try to decorate the house. My husband, not a fan.
Next thing, the Christmas lights. I had visions last night of my dad with the lights strung out all over the den trying to find the bulb that was out. Strands and strands of lights all over the room. My problem last night was that I hung all the lights on the tree FIRST - before I checked to see if they worked. Two of the six strings did. So I had to take them all down and unplug all the bad ones and start over. The bottom third of the tree is illuminated. Husband has on his to do list to go buy more lights.
The other thing I like to do, once all the lights are on the tree, is to sit in the dark and look at the lights and listen to the above-mentioned Christmas music. I can't tell you how many times I found Daddy in the chair in the living room doing just that. And I would join him. And I believe in my heart that he joins me now when I do it.
Funny how the simplest things can make the best memories. No big planned, constructed memories. Just the everyday stuff that sticks. Think about it.
Friday, December 5, 2008
Picking Your Battles
WARNING I am probably going to tick some people off with this post. If you are one of them, I'm sorry, but I do hope you'll read to the end (with an open mind) and see if I'm not actually making a valid point.
I hear the term "pick your battles" a lot lately. Typically it means choosing a less distasteful option over another. Pursuing one path instead of another. Sometimes (and this is where I'm going to tick off some people) it means taking the easy way out. Pulling a Scarlett O'Hara. "I'll think about this tomorrow".
I'm not saying that living with the decision is easy. If a couple gets divorced it isn't easy - ask anyone who's lived through one. But sometimes it is the easy way out. Rather than deal with the problems in the relationship, one side, sometimes both, just gives up. I'm not saying that there aren't times when a divorce is a necessary answer. No one should remain in an abusive marriage. But even in that case some one is taking an easy way out. Why go to rehab for substance abuse or anger management counseling and face our own demons when we can just take out our problems on the person we're closest to? Using abortions for birth control is taking the easy way out. Again, the decision may be difficult to live with. And there are circumstances where it is a medically necessary procedure. But young women don't have to deal with the lack of self esteem or problems that drive them to look for comfort in sex if they have the option of not dealing with the consequences afterwards. Why stand up for social changes when the status quo is so much easier? Why get involve in our communities when sending a check will do? You could force your children to learn manners or you could just let them interrupt and then they'll leave the room so you can finish your visit. Its easier that way.
I guess my issue is that too often the ugly battle never gets picked. We don't deal with what is uncomfortable or unpleasant. We take the path of least resistance. We don't stand up to the bad guy or force someone to take a hard look at themselves. We just keep rolling along and always pick the other battle.
There is no tomorrow for Scarlett. It is always today.
Wednesday, December 3, 2008
Being a part of the pack
We're dog people. And I just uttered the biggest understatement of the year. With 7 in our current "herd" I'd say we qualify as dog people.
We just added one a couple of weeks ago and its always interesting to watch how the new one finds his or her way in the pack. They have their own pecking order that only they understand and we can't force the issue.
Up until 2004 we'd always had girls. I saw typical girl jealousy between the first and second ones. Our first had been an "only child" for a full year and was not pleased to be gaining a sister. Typical first child syndrome. She was known to ignore the new puppy completely and pushed her off my lap on more than one occasion.
The second was tickled to death when the third one came along. She had a friend! Our third dog was our first pound rescue so that was a challenge for the us. She was the sweetest thing. And the oldest was glad there was someone to play with the second one as she could not be bothered. She made it very clear from the outset that she was in charge, and was never questioned.
Eventually we picked up number 4 running the streets. We had no intention of keeping her but it was so cold that night that I wanted to take her the house to stay warm while we looked for her owners. That was in January 1997 or 1998. We quit looking. She loved to stay in the basement under the stairs. It took a long time before she'd join the rest of the group. And to be the largest of the four, she was the most timid. Afraid of her own shadow. She had no problem being on the bottom of the pile.
Time moved on. We lost numbers two and three. It was quiet. Two older dogs, one couldn't hear or walk or see very good, but still lots of love. The other continued to stay to herself. I started thinking about a puppy again. Someone who would know I was home and be excited. I'll never forget the day my husband called with the news. He'd been traveling and came across a puppy that had been hit by a car and was dragging herself out of the road with her front paws when he came driving up. He grabbed her up and brought her home. She had a broken pelvis and a horrible case of the mange. For anyone that doesn't know it, people can get the mange also. But we fixed her up and the first time that she came skidding down the hallway's hardwood floors to meet me at the door my heart just sang!
So, number five slowly started becoming the boss as number one grew older. Later that same year we did the unthinkable. Rescued a boy dog! His place in the pack was easy. He was special and he was going to protect all the womenfolk. And he still does. If he thinks there is anything outside to be concerned about he will literally sleep on top of me and face the door.
A couple of months later, number six moved in. For those keeping score, three dogs joined the family in one year's time. Number one was now too old to care. Number four just wanted to know what in the world had she done to deserve this! Three puppies. Twelve months. Not good.
Then number one passed away at the age of 16. Even the puppies knew something was wrong. The Queen Bee was gone. Number five stepped up to the plate. She was large and in charge.
So we rocked on for a year or so and then, the big plunge. Twins. Adopted two at a time. One boy and one girl. They only have eyes for each other. They wait for each other to go outside, they play, they slept next to each other for a long time. Only thing was, number six. He scared the bejeebers out of the new puppy. All he had to do was look at that little dog and he would go to the bathroom where he stood. Number six didn't bother the girl twin, only the boy.
So another year passes and, you guessed it, number 10 literally runs into our lives. He's a sweetheart. And he suffers from seizures. We're guessing that's the reason that we've had a hard time finding his owners. I guess they didn't want to deal with it. My husband looked at me after we got the news and just said "I guess there's a reason they all find their way to us". And he's right. We're kind of the Brangelina of the dog world (but we're up one so they'd better get on the stick!) and there must be some type of doggie communication that brings them here.
Number six is trying very hard to let number ten know that he's the boss. Number ten just stands there looking at him. Boy twin is tickled to death that the big dog has someone else to intimidate. He's slept better in the last two weeks than I think he has since he and his sister moved in. He's no longer the focus of the attention.
Its the same with people. We can be the top dog, or we can live alone in the basement. We can lead or follow. Be part of the problem or part of the solution. Think about the groups you're in. Are you always an officer, or always a worker bee, or do you just show up because your BlackBerry sent you a reminder? People watching can be fun. But how often do we step back and see ourselves as other see us. Do others call what we think of as leadership skills bullying? Are people disappointed because we don't step up the plate enough? Are we just so shy that we can't? Are we head-over-heels excited when someone new joins the group, or are we intent on proving our place in the group to the new kid?
I think its important to do a self-assessment from time to time. Am I doing all I can to be good productive citizen/member/participant in my world? Can I push myself beyond my perceived boundaries. Can I be a good follower when my skill set doesn't fit well with being the leader? Can I give my all to what I'm doing?
Think about. Just like within my Thundering Herd we all have our place in this world. And our "place" is not the same in all circumstances. Know how you fit best and make the most of it.
We just added one a couple of weeks ago and its always interesting to watch how the new one finds his or her way in the pack. They have their own pecking order that only they understand and we can't force the issue.
Up until 2004 we'd always had girls. I saw typical girl jealousy between the first and second ones. Our first had been an "only child" for a full year and was not pleased to be gaining a sister. Typical first child syndrome. She was known to ignore the new puppy completely and pushed her off my lap on more than one occasion.
The second was tickled to death when the third one came along. She had a friend! Our third dog was our first pound rescue so that was a challenge for the us. She was the sweetest thing. And the oldest was glad there was someone to play with the second one as she could not be bothered. She made it very clear from the outset that she was in charge, and was never questioned.
Eventually we picked up number 4 running the streets. We had no intention of keeping her but it was so cold that night that I wanted to take her the house to stay warm while we looked for her owners. That was in January 1997 or 1998. We quit looking. She loved to stay in the basement under the stairs. It took a long time before she'd join the rest of the group. And to be the largest of the four, she was the most timid. Afraid of her own shadow. She had no problem being on the bottom of the pile.
Time moved on. We lost numbers two and three. It was quiet. Two older dogs, one couldn't hear or walk or see very good, but still lots of love. The other continued to stay to herself. I started thinking about a puppy again. Someone who would know I was home and be excited. I'll never forget the day my husband called with the news. He'd been traveling and came across a puppy that had been hit by a car and was dragging herself out of the road with her front paws when he came driving up. He grabbed her up and brought her home. She had a broken pelvis and a horrible case of the mange. For anyone that doesn't know it, people can get the mange also. But we fixed her up and the first time that she came skidding down the hallway's hardwood floors to meet me at the door my heart just sang!
So, number five slowly started becoming the boss as number one grew older. Later that same year we did the unthinkable. Rescued a boy dog! His place in the pack was easy. He was special and he was going to protect all the womenfolk. And he still does. If he thinks there is anything outside to be concerned about he will literally sleep on top of me and face the door.
A couple of months later, number six moved in. For those keeping score, three dogs joined the family in one year's time. Number one was now too old to care. Number four just wanted to know what in the world had she done to deserve this! Three puppies. Twelve months. Not good.
Then number one passed away at the age of 16. Even the puppies knew something was wrong. The Queen Bee was gone. Number five stepped up to the plate. She was large and in charge.
So we rocked on for a year or so and then, the big plunge. Twins. Adopted two at a time. One boy and one girl. They only have eyes for each other. They wait for each other to go outside, they play, they slept next to each other for a long time. Only thing was, number six. He scared the bejeebers out of the new puppy. All he had to do was look at that little dog and he would go to the bathroom where he stood. Number six didn't bother the girl twin, only the boy.
So another year passes and, you guessed it, number 10 literally runs into our lives. He's a sweetheart. And he suffers from seizures. We're guessing that's the reason that we've had a hard time finding his owners. I guess they didn't want to deal with it. My husband looked at me after we got the news and just said "I guess there's a reason they all find their way to us". And he's right. We're kind of the Brangelina of the dog world (but we're up one so they'd better get on the stick!) and there must be some type of doggie communication that brings them here.
Number six is trying very hard to let number ten know that he's the boss. Number ten just stands there looking at him. Boy twin is tickled to death that the big dog has someone else to intimidate. He's slept better in the last two weeks than I think he has since he and his sister moved in. He's no longer the focus of the attention.
Its the same with people. We can be the top dog, or we can live alone in the basement. We can lead or follow. Be part of the problem or part of the solution. Think about the groups you're in. Are you always an officer, or always a worker bee, or do you just show up because your BlackBerry sent you a reminder? People watching can be fun. But how often do we step back and see ourselves as other see us. Do others call what we think of as leadership skills bullying? Are people disappointed because we don't step up the plate enough? Are we just so shy that we can't? Are we head-over-heels excited when someone new joins the group, or are we intent on proving our place in the group to the new kid?
I think its important to do a self-assessment from time to time. Am I doing all I can to be good productive citizen/member/participant in my world? Can I push myself beyond my perceived boundaries. Can I be a good follower when my skill set doesn't fit well with being the leader? Can I give my all to what I'm doing?
Think about. Just like within my Thundering Herd we all have our place in this world. And our "place" is not the same in all circumstances. Know how you fit best and make the most of it.
Sunday, November 30, 2008
Numbers
$798. I believe that was the price of a human life on Friday. That was the price of a 50-inch plasma TV at a New York Wal-Mart that contributed to the stampede that resulted in the death of an employee.
195. The last count of the deaths in the terrorist attack at Mumbai. It could be higher now but I haven't checked the news.
60. The number of hours the siege lasted at Mumbai.
I probably shouldn't mix the two. One was an act of terrorism, the other an act of ordinary citizens. Although a mob of citizens pushing on glass doors so hard that they were cracking and then shattered could probably be classified as terrorists. I feel certain the employees on the other side trying to delay the inevitable probably were terrified.
But the common thread is that innocent lives were taken. People minding their own business. Doing their jobs. And lost for what? Greed. Cowardice. I don't believe that the terrorists had just lofty ideals that we could say it was for a greater good. And saving a few bucks on a Christmas gift? Please! If your economic conditions are good enough that you can pay $800 for a gigantic television that you probably don't need anyway then you could spring for a few extra bucks.
Is this what society has been reduced to? I heard one witness refer to the shoppers as "savages". Pretty apropos. And to add insult to the whole matter, some were heard to complain when asked to evacuate the store so the incident could be investigated. They couldn't believe they had to leave after all the hours they waited on line. Sad, really.
As to the Wal-Mart incident, one family's Christmas, and all future holidays, has been ruined by the thoughtless, inconsiderate actions of a few. I know they didn't mean to cause a death or any injuries to anyone. But it doesn't really change the end result, does it? They let greed be their guide.
As for the terrorists acts, what can I say? So many lives shattered by the acts of a radical few.
I guess this is what can happen when we start to let things - like thoughts, greed, radical ideals - take over our lives and quit thinking with our hearts and good reason.
1. The number of people it takes to start making a difference. Let that one be you.
195. The last count of the deaths in the terrorist attack at Mumbai. It could be higher now but I haven't checked the news.
60. The number of hours the siege lasted at Mumbai.
I probably shouldn't mix the two. One was an act of terrorism, the other an act of ordinary citizens. Although a mob of citizens pushing on glass doors so hard that they were cracking and then shattered could probably be classified as terrorists. I feel certain the employees on the other side trying to delay the inevitable probably were terrified.
But the common thread is that innocent lives were taken. People minding their own business. Doing their jobs. And lost for what? Greed. Cowardice. I don't believe that the terrorists had just lofty ideals that we could say it was for a greater good. And saving a few bucks on a Christmas gift? Please! If your economic conditions are good enough that you can pay $800 for a gigantic television that you probably don't need anyway then you could spring for a few extra bucks.
Is this what society has been reduced to? I heard one witness refer to the shoppers as "savages". Pretty apropos. And to add insult to the whole matter, some were heard to complain when asked to evacuate the store so the incident could be investigated. They couldn't believe they had to leave after all the hours they waited on line. Sad, really.
As to the Wal-Mart incident, one family's Christmas, and all future holidays, has been ruined by the thoughtless, inconsiderate actions of a few. I know they didn't mean to cause a death or any injuries to anyone. But it doesn't really change the end result, does it? They let greed be their guide.
As for the terrorists acts, what can I say? So many lives shattered by the acts of a radical few.
I guess this is what can happen when we start to let things - like thoughts, greed, radical ideals - take over our lives and quit thinking with our hearts and good reason.
1. The number of people it takes to start making a difference. Let that one be you.
Thursday, November 27, 2008
Being Thankful
I'm not sure we always know how to be thankful. Sure, we say "Thank God" about a hundred times a day, but do we mean it. And mean it like we're supposed to be meaning it?
I see a generation growing up with the feeling of entitlement. And they are getting that from their parents. Generations before us truly were thankful for what they had. Food, shelter, employment. And when they said "Thank God" it was with a truly grateful heart. No one had ever just handed them anything, therefore there was no expectation of it. Not so today.
Maybe the current economic situation will serve as a reminder to folks. Be thankful you have a roof over your head, many are losing their homes. Be thankful even if that roof is at a shelter. Be glad you have food to eat, whether it comes from your kitchen or a soup kitchen. Many will go to bed hungry tonight. Be glad when you roll over in the morning and don't have to work that Monday morning there will be a job to go to.
I could probably launch into some of the reasons that some people have found themselves in the economic situation they are in - wanting bigger houses, nicer cars, unwilling to work at jobs they deem beneath them. Maybe a reminder of what to be really thankful for is in order. I know it doesn't apply to everyone. Sometimes people are victims of circumstances beyond their control. But that is a thought for another day. Today is a day to be uplifted.
So, hug your family tonight and say a prayer for all those families who have a gap. Maybe a loved one has died, can't travel, or maybe is one of our brave men and women fighting somewhere in the world for our freedom. Freedom we should be thankful for. It is what this country was founded on. But we forget. How quickly we forget.
I see a generation growing up with the feeling of entitlement. And they are getting that from their parents. Generations before us truly were thankful for what they had. Food, shelter, employment. And when they said "Thank God" it was with a truly grateful heart. No one had ever just handed them anything, therefore there was no expectation of it. Not so today.
Maybe the current economic situation will serve as a reminder to folks. Be thankful you have a roof over your head, many are losing their homes. Be thankful even if that roof is at a shelter. Be glad you have food to eat, whether it comes from your kitchen or a soup kitchen. Many will go to bed hungry tonight. Be glad when you roll over in the morning and don't have to work that Monday morning there will be a job to go to.
I could probably launch into some of the reasons that some people have found themselves in the economic situation they are in - wanting bigger houses, nicer cars, unwilling to work at jobs they deem beneath them. Maybe a reminder of what to be really thankful for is in order. I know it doesn't apply to everyone. Sometimes people are victims of circumstances beyond their control. But that is a thought for another day. Today is a day to be uplifted.
So, hug your family tonight and say a prayer for all those families who have a gap. Maybe a loved one has died, can't travel, or maybe is one of our brave men and women fighting somewhere in the world for our freedom. Freedom we should be thankful for. It is what this country was founded on. But we forget. How quickly we forget.
Tuesday, November 25, 2008
Letting the Bully Win
Into all lives there enters a bully. Some sneak in, some come crashing through the door. But everyone faces one at some point. The question is, how do you handle it?
We've all watched the news in horror as stories unfold about young adults shooting up schools or taking their own lives as a result of being bullied. That seems to be the answer that keeps popping to the unanswerable question of Why? Seemingly normal, ordinary kids (my dad hated to have young people called kids - said that term was reserved for baby goats) go off the deep end and do the unthinkable. Makes you wonder about a lot of things. First and foremost, where are the coping skills and who was supposed to be teaching and reinforcing them?
An unfortunate event has arisen in a group I'm associated with. Tempers have flaired, bad behavior has been exhibited. Several people have expressed a desire, (or need, complusion) to just leave the group. The tension has become so intolerable and the atmosphere so uncomfortable that they just want out. I've been one of them. But then I thought about it. If one person is causing the issue that makes everyone else uncomfortable, what message are we sending? That its okay to bully the group to get what you want and if you do it long enough you'll wear everyone else down and your opposition will just go away?
I don't think that's the right message. The bully can't win. When young people ruin or end their lives because they couldn't stand up to bully, the bully has won. And unless he (or she) was taken out as well, they will most likely continue to do it. When adults turn their backs on good organizations rather than try to force the necessary changes on it, the bully has won.
The bully can't win.
We've all watched the news in horror as stories unfold about young adults shooting up schools or taking their own lives as a result of being bullied. That seems to be the answer that keeps popping to the unanswerable question of Why? Seemingly normal, ordinary kids (my dad hated to have young people called kids - said that term was reserved for baby goats) go off the deep end and do the unthinkable. Makes you wonder about a lot of things. First and foremost, where are the coping skills and who was supposed to be teaching and reinforcing them?
An unfortunate event has arisen in a group I'm associated with. Tempers have flaired, bad behavior has been exhibited. Several people have expressed a desire, (or need, complusion) to just leave the group. The tension has become so intolerable and the atmosphere so uncomfortable that they just want out. I've been one of them. But then I thought about it. If one person is causing the issue that makes everyone else uncomfortable, what message are we sending? That its okay to bully the group to get what you want and if you do it long enough you'll wear everyone else down and your opposition will just go away?
I don't think that's the right message. The bully can't win. When young people ruin or end their lives because they couldn't stand up to bully, the bully has won. And unless he (or she) was taken out as well, they will most likely continue to do it. When adults turn their backs on good organizations rather than try to force the necessary changes on it, the bully has won.
The bully can't win.
Monday, November 24, 2008
Attire
A bit more on the decline of social mores. Clothing. I remember seeing a long-ago picture of my grandmother, with her mother and sister, and they were dressed to the nines! Including a hat to top it all off. I love hats! I wore them to church on Easter up into high school and college. I just think they really finish an outfit. I can remember my grandfather wearing his "Bear Bryant" hat when I was a child. So dapper.
Men still wear hats - ball caps, trucker hats, do rags. Difference is, my grandfather always took his off inside a building. Never would he have dreamed of eating a meal wearing one! You can't get kids to take them off now. Instead of finishing an outfit, a hat is a means to cover up the bed head they have since they didn't get up in time to get ready. Even though it doesn't take too long since they only have to pull their pants up to about mid-thigh. There is never any need to wonder if a young man is a "boxer or brief" guy. The answer is hanging out over the waistband of his pants.
Females are no better. So many of them don't wear enough clothes to even qualify as an outfit. You see more of them than you ever wanted to.
Sad really. And while I would NEVER advocate that a woman was "asking for it" when something terrible happens to her, women do send mixed messages. Look, and look a lot, but don't touch. My husband is flabbergasted on the rare occassions that we go out in a crowd about how young women dress.
And I wonder again, as I have before, when did we (the collective "WE" that is society) say that this behavior is acceptable? What causes us to continue to turn our heads or just ignore it? And how do we turn the bus around? So many of these young people have no idea of the ramifications in the real world. Its harder to get a good job when you aren't dressed appropriately, or don't even know what appropriately is. And the casualness of our appearance can often single casualness (or downright laziness) in other aspects of our world. Is it too late to stop this downhill roll? Or do we have to wait until we hit rock bottom before someone steps up and makes a change.
Men still wear hats - ball caps, trucker hats, do rags. Difference is, my grandfather always took his off inside a building. Never would he have dreamed of eating a meal wearing one! You can't get kids to take them off now. Instead of finishing an outfit, a hat is a means to cover up the bed head they have since they didn't get up in time to get ready. Even though it doesn't take too long since they only have to pull their pants up to about mid-thigh. There is never any need to wonder if a young man is a "boxer or brief" guy. The answer is hanging out over the waistband of his pants.
Females are no better. So many of them don't wear enough clothes to even qualify as an outfit. You see more of them than you ever wanted to.
Sad really. And while I would NEVER advocate that a woman was "asking for it" when something terrible happens to her, women do send mixed messages. Look, and look a lot, but don't touch. My husband is flabbergasted on the rare occassions that we go out in a crowd about how young women dress.
And I wonder again, as I have before, when did we (the collective "WE" that is society) say that this behavior is acceptable? What causes us to continue to turn our heads or just ignore it? And how do we turn the bus around? So many of these young people have no idea of the ramifications in the real world. Its harder to get a good job when you aren't dressed appropriately, or don't even know what appropriately is. And the casualness of our appearance can often single casualness (or downright laziness) in other aspects of our world. Is it too late to stop this downhill roll? Or do we have to wait until we hit rock bottom before someone steps up and makes a change.
Saturday, November 22, 2008
Negative Progress
I see the obvious contradiction in the title. How can progress, a seemingly forward concept, be a step backward? But let's think about it.
I recently became aware of a several young girls in town that are pregnant. Used to be if a young woman found herself "in the family way" she, and maybe another female family member, were sent out of town until after the baby was born, and probably put up for adoption. Now, they take their ultrasounds to school and show them off. And the grandparents end up raising two generations simultaneously. And wonderful loving families that could give an adopted the child the world remain childless.
Was this the intended consequence of all the women's movements in the 60s and 70s? Don't get me wrong, I'm glad there are no longer back-alley abortions (although my thoughts on that topic will be saved for another day). No woman deserves to die or be permanently mangled for a bad decision. But society has shifted from casting shame to saying its OK. Its not OK. Unmarried pregnant celebrities should not be on the cover of every magazine. That is certainly not the right message - is it? Surely there is some middle ground between horrified and accepting?
Some will say "we've come a long baby!". True. We are a long way from where women started. But does distance necessarily make it progress? I don't think so. The solution? I don't know. I only know that this current path will probably not yield the desired destination.
I recently became aware of a several young girls in town that are pregnant. Used to be if a young woman found herself "in the family way" she, and maybe another female family member, were sent out of town until after the baby was born, and probably put up for adoption. Now, they take their ultrasounds to school and show them off. And the grandparents end up raising two generations simultaneously. And wonderful loving families that could give an adopted the child the world remain childless.
Was this the intended consequence of all the women's movements in the 60s and 70s? Don't get me wrong, I'm glad there are no longer back-alley abortions (although my thoughts on that topic will be saved for another day). No woman deserves to die or be permanently mangled for a bad decision. But society has shifted from casting shame to saying its OK. Its not OK. Unmarried pregnant celebrities should not be on the cover of every magazine. That is certainly not the right message - is it? Surely there is some middle ground between horrified and accepting?
Some will say "we've come a long baby!". True. We are a long way from where women started. But does distance necessarily make it progress? I don't think so. The solution? I don't know. I only know that this current path will probably not yield the desired destination.
Subscribe to:
Posts (Atom)