Not an easy task....raising you kids...

In the past few days, there have been so many things that have made me scared....and thankful as a mother. I want to jump on a soap box and yell. But instead I shall blog. You may be the only one that reads this, but that is ok. 

The Stanford Rape case. There is SO MUCH wrong with this scenario. I find it disgusting. The victim is being made to look guilty, the criminal is being coddled. It is NOT just a drinking culture, a party culture, or....in my opinion....even a sex culture. It is a mess so chaotic that I can't begin to speak to all that angers me. BUT, the father indicating that his son is being punished for 20 minutes of action....? Seriously? In 20 minutes, his son started drinking (WHILE UNDERAGE), behaving inappropriately, and then decided to rape an unconscious woman? Why did this kid think it was ok to drink? Why did he think it was ok to behave the way he did, even if he DID have consent? I'll bet that his dad was well aware of his drinking and most likely made inappropriate jokes in front of him about partying with women. I don't say this because I believe all dads do this. I say this because the man who wrote the letter in defense of his son.....is missing something in his own character to even consider saying the things he said.

Something very few people will tell you...try as we may as parents, we CANNOT control you kids. This was proven with the often repeated story of me calling Ma for guidance when you were a three-year-old:

Me:  Mom! What do I do? She won't behave. She is screaming for no reason, throwing her toys, back talking.....

Ma:  Honey! Put that child in her room! And make her stay there!

Me:  Ok, mom.  Let me do that. 

{I lay the phone down so Ma can hear the interaction}

{I swat your rear-end and put you in your room, and CLOSE THE DOOR}

{I pick up phone}

Ma:  See? That worked, didn't it?

Me:  MOM? SHE IS STANDING RIGHT HERE HITTING MY LEG AND MAKING FACES AT ME!

See, child? We cannot control you. We cannot control your brother. We can only try to impart our wisdom and pray you will be good people. And I will support you emotionally for the rest of our lives. BUT...you are responsible for your decisions. You are responsible for your behavior. I swear to you I will not make excuses for you. I will not make excuses because doing so will only harm you further. I hope I have raised you (and will continue to raise you) to take responsibility. And yes, I will continue to raise you until death do us part. 

Ok. The other thing is the warning I sent you about some company that allegedly tries to lure young adults with promise of a job and then gives them knock out drops in their water. This brings to mind the entire kidnapping lecture. What can I say?  Trust your gut, child. You are like me in the sense that we do not like to hurt feelings. We are relatively kind people. But if you feel you are being compromised, or you just sense something is wrong....leave. If you are completely wrong and someday the person you were rude to ends up to be a friend....laugh about the situation. And don't drink things people you don't know give to you. Ever. And that leads me to....always keep some cash with you. Something you can buy a water bottle with. 

I could go on and on about demanding respect in relationships.  However, I have full trust that Buford treats you right. He'd better! I know where he lives. You will, however, run into people who will not respect you as a female. Co-workers, bosses, strangers on the street. You have the right to stand up for yourself...and not take any crap off of anybody just because you are a female. In all honesty, you will have to work with jerks...even have jerks as bosses....and sometimes you will have to tolerate it. But you should never have to be in a compromising situation for the sole reason that you are a woman. No job is worth that. 

I'm babbling now. I will close this with a giraffe. To make you smile! I love you, droplet! 

Antsy...

Hi droplet....how are you? I miss you. You are the one who told me to blog....

I'm antsy. Feeling creative. Need an outlet for it. That's why I wanted you to come home this weekend. I thought we'd go road tripping. But oh well. Work has been so busy I may not have time for driving!

Here's one of the photos I posted this week. Kinda into the sunsets. I always like winter sunsets....maybe because the days are blah-er so the sky lighting up is such a highlight. 

Life lessons.....life lessons.....seems like I've had some for you....let me think...

Be nice. That's simple. Just be nice to people. We all get aggravated with others that we encounter, but sometimes you might be the only nice person they see all week.  

Be yourself....unless you are a mean person (which you are not)...because if you ARE....you'd be ignoring my advice in the last paragraph.  

Babble from time to time.  And find someone who is ok if you babble. It gets a lot of stuff out in the open when you babble. Kinda like I used to tell you about how my roommate Cheri and I used to fight. We'd do real exaggerated silly fights but in the process we'd get real issues out in the open. (She didn't like my obnoxious alarm.....her sinuses bugged me....but we loved each other...and still do.)

Create something. I watched Rae's trailer a bit ago....I love the spirit she has...Love the way she makes hardship into beauty... So find what you want to create...and create it. If it's knowledge in kids, then yay!

Your brother has been showing his creativity lately with his welding. Need to find an outlet to sell his work. We've always known he had an artistic streak!

(I'm babbling....tired of it yet?)

Want a funny? Dad, Garrett and I went to check on Rehab last night....the new horse. Drove past the water and Steve was sitting out there, so we stopped. Just chatted with him. He was sitting on an upside-down water tub. I sat down on the opposite end. We were still all chatting when he pushes me off and yells at me to get up! I was not happy with his rudeness.  But seems he had just repaired the hole in the tub with silicone glue junk....and I had been sitting in it. He was a bit slow in his reaction time....but oh well. Guess who gets to buy new jeans this weekend....ME!

Tomorrow is Friday. Isn't it? Yeah....it is. Yay! Only have about 10 interviews...."only"...  Work crazy busy with just two of us...but we are surviving. 

Ok....going to quit babbling for the moment. Love you! Goodnight, droplet!

Red Dirt Road

Getting ready for class this morning, my roommates and I had my Pandora Music blasting in the living room. The song “Red Dirt Road” by Brooks and Dunn comes on and I couldn’t help but reminisce . The song describes memories linked to a red dirt road near where the narrator grew up. It describes where the narrator drank his first beer, learned about love, wrecked his first car, found Jesus, and learned that "happiness on Earth ain't just for high achievers".

For years, this song has reminded me of Hatch Road, a narrow little dirt road that connected my neighborhood to downtown Lorena, Texas. While this road was much too narrow and curvy to ever actually spend time on, I can still link it to equally important experiences that surround my own little dirt road, my little town, and a few other roads for that matter.

Hatch Road is the route that my mom and I would take on the way to 6:30am theatre rehearsals where I spent time with an amazing and diverse group of people that would shape the woman that I have become and brought so many blessing to my life. If you had been a fly on the inside of that car at 6:30 in the morning, you would have heard an interesting mix of Adele, Taylor Swift, KC and Sunshine band and whole interesting group of performers. You would have heard life lessons being taught, high school angst, gushing over the latest crush, and occasional cranky-ness of two sleep-deprived, yet highly caffeinated girls.

This road brought many encounters with snakes, other wildlife, and the occasional alien (yes, you read that correctly).

Hatch road is where I let a stupid boy take me around a few corners too quickly, it was home to some supposed ghost encounters, and it will always be a part of me.

I lived right at the end of Hatch Road, on Old Bethany Rd. This is where my family met some of the best friends that we have ever known. The Jackson family is truly the epitome of what it means to be a light of Christ. Jeff, Jennifer and Selby have the most welcoming and warm hearts and they cared for us like family. One of my first memories of them was standing out in the front yard talking with Jeff and my dad and this adorable 3-year old, red haired, Opie-Taylor-look-alike running out too see us, wearing nothing but his brand new “big boy underwear”

.Over the years, they watched my brother and I grow up and we watched Selby grow up. We spent evenings at the ball fields together, many summer nights out on our porches and I looked forward to greeting Jennifer and Selby every morning waiting for the school bus.

Most girls can expect their boyfriends to have to pass approval/interrogation from their fathers, but I was lucky enough to also have Jeff and Selby on that board of review. There were many dates and front-yard talks with boys that were interrupted by Selby sprinting over “just to say hey”. I probably rolled my eyes at these wacky boys, but I always knew that they were looking out for me and I loved them dearly for it.

Old Bethany road is where I raised my puppy-dogs, said goodbye to one puppy, thought I fell in love, got my heart broken, went on a few dates and eventually found a love that is still strong and beautiful today.

On the other end of Hatch Road were the downtown McBrayer park and the high school. McBrayer park saw many photo shoots, 1 lost earring, a 15th birthday party icing-fight and even Junior Prom pictures. At the high school, the performing arts center is where so many wonderful things happened. I built amazing friendships and learned so much about life, having fun, and the importance of working hard. A lot of goofiness happened here so early in the mornings. The feigned headset flirtationships between the stage manager and the booth manager, the occasional stolen kiss behind the curtains, autographing our UIL bus and countless inside jokes.

As I get older, I think more and more about the significance and emotions associated with different roads and towns.

Lura Lane in Jonestown,(for those who understand this chapter) almost immediately hits me with an incredible tidal wave of emotions. I flashback to extremely pleasant memories of pulling up to that house.I love remembering how Mom and Dad would wake us up as we pulled in and then help us to not roll down the steep driveway as we sleepily stumbled up to Grandma and Granddad's house. This road now also can slap an instant anxiety attack, mixed with bitter-sweetness and a bout of PTSD.

There are streets in Abilene that will always be “Ma and Pa” roads filled with memories of picking up pecans, tennis matches and walking to the park with all of the cousins.

Maybe I’ve gone off on ridiculous tangents, or maybe I’ve just run crazy with an inspiration from Brooks and Dunn, Anyhow, I felt like writing today and I hope it turned out alright. If anything, maybe I’ve left my readers reminiscing about their own “Red Dirt Roads”. Isn’t what a good journalist is supposed to do; give their reader everything that they can, and still leave them with something to think about for the rest of the day? 

Music Video