Don’t Even Ask

Over the past few days I’ve gotten the same question phrased in different ways, which is really starting to get on my last nerve. Anyone who knows me knows I hate repeating myself, more to the point though, I hate when people passive-aggressively play putt-putt with what they truly mean. Mincing words with me is never wise. The question, which I’ve concluded to basically be an attempt at sincere concern, has instead caused me a migraine on top of the already migraine inducing situation I’m currently dealing with. What is the question? Well here it is.

Do you love your son more than your daughters?

Now, thanks to recent events, which are partly why I’ve in essence stopped updating here because I felt it was too sensitive to blog about because it’s left me feeling wounded and in tears for weeks, this question keeps popping up in different various forms. To which end I’ve replied with a flat “No.” but this doesn’t seem to dissuade others from asking again and again anyhow. Those who know me know I started this blog for the intent that my son might know I never stopped thinking of him, no one questioned why though. What reason do I have to start a blog so that he might know I never stopped thinking of him? The answer is clear. I have my two daughters I take care of and am in the process of homeschooling. I’ve attached our completed Week 1 of the 5 Week Homeschooling Project I started, which will be concluded at the end of this week.

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Does that mean I don’t love my son since I do my best to push the idea from my mind? No. I love my son, always have and always will. His birthday came and went, and my heart broke once more. I did my best to keep my composure, until I received a frantic call from my sons father. He claimed someone was trying to take my son, to which end I feigned interest because of all the other times he had tried to create drama in my life and ruin my holidays. Only difference this time? It turned out to be genuine. Now, as I write this, some other woman has my child. A woman who apparently barely knows my ex and knows nothing of the pain and suffering he inflicted on me. She married him and with having done so, she took off with my son to another state. 


My heart has been shattered upon finding all this out, but a glimmer of hope had appeared just as quickly as it caused my eyes to fill with tears. For the first time in 5 years, I knew where my son was. Seeing my son was completely dependant on him being “able” to meet up with me at a designated time at a specific location decided on by both parties. Yup, that’s what our agreement says. Up until now, I couldn’t do anything about it because I didn’t know where he was, and I had no evidence to prove that he couldn’t make it to the meetings we would set up only for him to cancel at the last minute.


After much deliberation though, much crying and sleepless nights wondering if my son was even okay, I requested a well child check to ensure he was physically unharmed. Considering I don’t know the woman nor she know me, I felt it was only appropriate I request such a thing. To the best of my knowledge, this woman doesn’t even know that I’ve been trying for years to see my son, only to be back-handed metaphorically again and again at every turn. Even as I am writing this, in the beginning scope of the morning before my daughters wake up, thinking on this brings me to tears. I found out not only does this woman not know me, but my own son has had it impressed to him that I don’t wish to see him. 


I have done all that I can within my power, as to the best of my knowledge as which been afforded to me by my state law department when I was calling around to find out what I could do, if anything. After so many years of being told, “Don’t worry, he will seek you out.” I think the time of waiting has come to pass. Now? Now is a time for action, before he is lost to me indefinitely, because if I don’t act, it will only prove what they keep telling him and I refuse to let it be said that I didn’t try when the opportunity presented itself. 



Trigger Warning:

This Post May Contain Potential Triggers For Weak Or Self-Entitled Souls

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Those who followed my blog from the beginning may have noticed a sudden lack in posts. The downward trend having started when my Aunt passed away last year, it has simply become worse as time wore on. Daily prompts have no longer held any interest for me, blogging challenges simply frustrated me, sharing recipes or day to day things about my family felt mundane. All this and more stemming from the loss of someone who, though I didn’t know her as well as I’d of liked, I had grown attached to.


Of late, a new thing has happened though that has added misery into the lives of my family. My daughters, two both very bright minded and intelligent little girls, are being forced down a slow aching path of intellectual-stuntedness. How is this so? They recently passed, as of the starting school year for 2017-2018 classes, your child must be 6 years old by August 1st. It used to be that the child would need to be 5 years of age before the start of the school year, or in some places before Sept 1st. As it stands now, my children who are already learning to write their letters and read on their own, will not be able to be enrolled in any kind of actual school until they are 7 years old.


This is a travesty, a thing like this should not be condoned. The idea of changing the age as well as the age by date ought to be considered blasphemous. Sadly, I’ve seen no outrage. No contempt. Not so much as a negative word have I heard from any fellow parents. Granted I am homeschooling my children, I cannot enroll them officially as being homeschooled for, at minimum, another 3 years. The state won’t even recognize them as having done school work until such a time as they are considered age appropriate.


This and so many other things have been ravaging my mind of late. I am positively livid to the point that my ability to focus has been diminishing. Self-righteous children run rampant thinking the world owes them, entitled miscreants act as though they are better than the working class, while children run about laughing at the people who are actually behaving like adults and doing their best to raise their children. This behavior not only enrages me but it makes me wonder just how much longer the human race will continue on with people making a mockery of parenting and being an adult in general.


When did it become okay to make fun of people who work for a living to put food on their table and take care of their family? When did it become okay for people to mock parents for doing what they feel is right by their child in the best interest of growing up to be a respectable human being? This lack of respect and care astonishes and disgusts me.

Our True Perspective

When I think of the word hidden, the first and foremost thing that pops into my mind is how we truly feel about people, things, and events happening around us. Reason being? Majority of people hide their true thoughts and intentions, constantly, in varying degrees. Most commonly at social functions. It used to not be this way, the exchange of ideas and moral compasses used to be a common thing that was supported, or even sparked excitement. That was in a day and age where being offended by every little thing made you appear weak, uncivil, and incapable of seeing a different direction or view. At least, that was how it would have been perceived. 


So what happened? Intelligent debate is no longer welcome. Certain words and phrases can’t be used anymore, no matter how aptly they might describe a situation, because someone’s feelings might get hurt. We literally live in a society where honest, open, scientifically backed debates are not allowed to be held. Speakers are violently protested to the point that their entourage says it’s too dangerous to appear because of the imminent danger posed to the speaker. We have let the special snowflakes, social justice warriors, and the weak minded who can’t handle opposing views to dominate our world.


It is because of this that our youth grow up thinking that the world should be handed to them on a silver platter. Why? If we don’t, their feelings might get hurt. Everyone gets a participation trophy or ribbon, even if they did absolutely nothing. You can fail as hard as you want, you’ll still get boosted up and pushed forward. There no longer is any challenge. Why put forth effort if you’ll still win, right? A movie made back in 2006 nailed it on the head. I only wish the world had been smart enough to realize. If you don’t know of what movie I speak, I recommend you search your “apple store” or “Google play” for Idiocracy 2006.


There is a difference between speaking in such a way as to spare hurt feelings for valid reasons, such as properly phrasing oneself, and completely ignoring truth and fact to spare an individual’s feelings. One can be ignorant, so long as they seek enlightenment. 

Everything Explained!

So this morning was a fun little phenomenon. My husband woke me as usual around 6am, ready to head up stairs to go to sleep. You see, I have taken to sleeping on the couch because sleeping in my bed while my husband is away at work always makes me sad. Sad means I can’t sleep, so I crash on the couch watching something or other on Netflix. Well this morning when we went upstairs to lay down, I was feeling more awake than normal and started yammering on about how I had some strange dream. 


I decided to share with you the interaction as best as I can recall. 


I had a really weird dream before I woke up.


Why don’t you tell me about it lovie?


Well it is super strange. It started out that you and I went to meet some shaman woman who was supposed to send me off on some trial so that I could meet my spirit animal. She said I needed to go through the trial because there were bad guys trying to do stuff to endangered animals or something.

So yea, I go through this trial and I end up finding my spirit animal and it’s a squirrel named Freddy.


(laughing) That explains so much.


*swats him* Hush, I’m telling you about my weird dream! 

So anyway, once I’m finally done with the trial and Freddy and I are heading off to find the shaman woman, we meet an Elephant. His name was Charlie, and he said that the shaman woman had relocated because of the bad guys. Freddy didn’t want to go though because he wanted to look for his missing girlfriend, Sandy. 


(he is still laughing)


Anyway! So Charlie let us ride on his back since he knew where she was. After forever, we found her only to realize apparently Sandy was hidden in her hair. Freddy lost his lid when we got to her and chased Sandy up the shamans neck and back into her hair. 


(practically losing it) This explains everything. Just so much of everything.


*growling* Yea well when we got back together, we went to face off with the bad guys, but there were a bunch of people outside their headquarters! Good thing was that there was a duck pond area near the headquarters, because their headquarters was part of a zoo that had a bunch of exotic animals which was how they were getting their ill-gotten goods they were pilfering. Freddy and I hid behind a tree close to the office and started doing duck calls together to lure the ducks over so that they would distract the people. 

Suddenly I broke into song, singing and dancing and you were picking me up and throwing me in the air and I did mid-air twirls and stuff. It was cool. People were clapping and cheering as I sung about the wild animals and how they just wanted to be home, safe from harm. 


(sounding mildly interested) That actually does sound kind of cool, the singing while in the air thing.


Right? It was so cool. When everyone started wandering away, the bad guys showed up and I had Charlie stomp on them real good, squishing their guts everywhere. *in a chipper tone* Then we rode off into the sunset together on Charlie.


(laughing again) Oh great, I can’t ride into the sunset in a nice car, no I ride into the sunset on the back of an elephant. Thanks, Shay.


*shocked voice* What?! I thought it was awesome!


This dream just explains so much about you, my sweet wild energetic squirrel girl.


Oh shut up. *fake-hurt voice*


Not long after the exchange ended, the kids woke up and the day began. I thought it would be fun to share this weird little dream, maybe it’ll give you better insight into who I am too?

Pure Insanity

Throughout history it has been proven time and time again that immigration without assimilation is by definition a sign of hostility, the first steps to a full on invasion and the beginnings of a takeover. By definition, immigration with no intent to immerse themselves into the culture they’re moving into is a means of eradicating the original culture by which they’ve been granted access to. This is precisely how nations fall and countries become disenfranchised. They see the powers that be, not enforcing their nation’s laws, letting people run rampant and unchecked. To cry for open borders would be to support the extinction of a nation, the extinction of differences in cultures, in truth it is the extinction of diversity.

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Just take a look at what happened when our forefathers came to this nation. It was a takeover, not a peaceful assimilation, there was no immersion, no cohesion between the Native Indians that we dubbed Native Indians. We labeled them as barbarians, savages, and we took over with little effort. How often do you see a Native Indian anymore? It’s not often, I’m betting. They may not have had any laws regarding immigration, but that didn’t make what we did any better. Now here we are, centuries down the line, we are allowing what we did to the Natives of the land to happen to us even though it goes against our own laws that have been in place for years.


I’ve always been under the impression that laws were intended to be enforced, that this land was our home. I thought letting people into our country ought to be viewed as the same as letting people into our very own personal home. Everyone has their own rules for their individual homes. I’m quite certain if someone walked into your home, made a mess, demanded that you change your routine to fit their lifestyle even though you don’t believe or live that lifestyle, well I’m rather positive that you wouldn’t accept it. Why on earth you want the nation to pay for those who won’t assimilate, who won’t learn the language of our nation, the logic is beyond me. Is there even any logic in your thought process?


Every time I see people crying out for the protection of those who refuse to become apart of America, when I see others claiming that deportation of illegal residents is inhumane, it makes me wonder. If you love these individuals, these law breakers, these detestable human beings who have no care for the rights of the average American, why don’t you let them stay at your house? Why don’t you foot the bill for their personal well being and their shelter? Why don’t you allow your home to be torn asunder, your beliefs or lack there of be questioned under your own roof, your food thrown away because it doesn’t fit into their religious beliefs.


I know I won’t. I am a law abiding citizen of America. I am a resident. This is my country, this is my home, have some respect.


It has been brought to my attention that people are parading about, acting as some sort of champion for awareness of diseases and or disorders. Supposedly this months targeted agenda is Autism, Asperges which is a form of autism, and Attention Deficit Hyperactivity Disorder often simplified as ADHD. The problem with the categorical “Autism, Asperges, and ADHD awareness month” is that Asperges is literally a high functioning form of autism. It is often confused with ADHD especially in young children. Many forms of high functioning autism get confused with ADHD due to the behavioral mental health. Early stages of recognizable autism seem much akin to ADHD because the brain isn’t entirely matured enough to develop a full sense of self being so they come off as “sufferers of ADHD”, and are thus prescribed medication to fit that diagnosis.


How do I know this to be fact? I have been both witness and victim of a state designed ADHD diagnosis. The medication that is prescribed for the diagnosis? Pharmacy engineered speed. Yes, you read that correctly. Speed. A commonly known addictive drug is being prescribed for your “mentally addled” child. This series of wrong diagnosis for children with forms of autism and the supposed correct diagnosis of attention deficit hyperactivity disorder should never be given speed. Not every problem can be resolved with a little medication. As a victim of state prescribed speed, I can tell you from first hand experience, it is an experience no child should be forced to endure.


My parents fought the system to get me away from the drugs, but little to their knowledge I had already started self medicating thanks to my elder sister who introduced me to cigarettes. My parents weren’t the wiser until it was far too late to do anything about my addiction that had replaced my state prescribed drugs. Being diagnosed was my gateway to other addictive substances, but thankfully for my mother, I had opinions formed of streetdrugs and kept to addictions that were more easily obtained. Coffee, caffeine, cigarettes. Things that seemed innocuous and easily obtainable. I don’t know whether I would have started this line of addictive behaviors had I not been prescribed speed by the state, but one thing is for certain. It didn’t help.


My worst memory, I still feel this sometimes as a long term side effect, is sitting in my room constantly reorganizing things. Anything. Pennies from dullness of color and shine to year they were manufactured. Crayons alphabetically from how pointy they were to how dulled the tips were. I functioned as a machine without free thought of my own. Often times I had a sensation that I were just a visitor of my own existence. I was literally trapped in my own mind and there was nothing I could do to stop it. Until the fated day my sister introduced me to cigarettes.


Granted not all experiences are the same, sometimes kids genuinely do benefit from the addictive substance. It doesn’t stop the fact that it is an addictive substance. To this day, I still don’t know how I avoided the ill fated destination of an addiction councilors room for addiction to my state prescribed baby sitter. I am merely grateful for it.


Instead of spreading awareness of mental health issues that get prescribed drugs that are harmful, why not champion yourself toward the cause of finding better ways of handling these problems. Help a child to become a better human being by not writing them a life long prescription that will land them in an addiction councilors office. Save the future.


We are all products of our parents. We grow up around them, they’re our first love, our first cuddle, our first snuggle, our first person to make us smile and the first person to ever make us cry. They set the boundaries as well as the guide of how we then lead our lives as we become adults. They inform upon us as model clay, a blank slate. We are born little sponges, soaking up every instance that happens in our lives and the lives of those around us. As infants and children we idolize our parents and place them upon a pedestal. As teens we become angsty and try to formulate our own ideas of where we belong until we wise up in our adult years only to realize that we were total sods to the people who loved us the most.


It is our parents that inform our ideas of what relationships are meant to be. Due to this imprinting of ideology on how relationships ought to be, people often hesitate to leave situations that seem good on the outside but behind closed doors are truly a nightmarish hell. Some people are raised in houses that seem like the ideal white picket fence home with the adoring child(ren), loving husband, and swooning wife. Behind closed doors these relationships are at times strained, often enough to the point the child(ren) hear the backlash of an angry mother or father yelling at one another over something trivial or large. This gives young minds an unstable idea of what relationships are meant to be like. It leads to being in abusive relationships, or being an abusive lover.


Sometimes this imprinting can also lead to people thinking infidelity is okay. It isn’t. Marriage, no matter your religious standing, is intended to be done for love. If you cannot keep yourself to your bedchamber with your significant other, then marriage is not for you. I’ve seen countless families broken apart due to some form of infidelity, be it emotional, physical, or even just through the use of words. Yes, emotionally cheating is still cheating. If it is something you would hide from your significant other, then you most likely shouldn’t be doing it at all. When you love someone and you start a family with them, your children need to see that love you share between you and your significant other.


They need to see what love looks like, be it coming home and having a freshly made meal for them or rubbing their shoulders before or after a hard day at work. Even just passing moments where your eyes might catch, kiss one another without thinking about it. Let them see the passion you two have without getting vulgar about it. Play music and dance in the living room together for all I care, just make sure they see what love is like. Have them dance with you if they’re old enough, they’ll enjoy it and feel included as well as loved. We learn at a young age what love is like, if you do it right then there’s a good chance they’ll be able to show their children, your grandchildren, what love is like too.


If you have a disagreement, try not to hash it out in front of them. Especially if there is yelling to be involved. Small disagreements that can easily be resolved without raised voices is good for them to see because they will know that the world isn’t all sunshine and daisies, but it will also set an example of how to conduct a disagreement like people not barbarians. 


Whatever you do though, do not cheat. Do not lie to the person you love and expect them to forgive you. Cheating is unforgivable. I don’t care what world you’re from, cheating is never an acceptable answer to upset or outrage. It not only hurts the person you’re with, it hurts your family as a whole. It will bring down upon your family a misery that no individual should ever have to endure. 


People have asked me if I would divorce my husband if he cheated on me. I would do worse than that. Just as he would do worse to me if I ever had the gall to think it were okay to cheat on him. Cheating is never the answer. If you’re finding yourself unhappy, discuss it with them, don’t go looking for someone else to talk to about it. The moment you cross that threshold, you denounce any form of love you ever had for the person you’re with. It is a line you cannot come back from.