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Rethinking my blog

While I was in college full-time the past few years, I’ve pretty much left this blog nearly abandoned.  I was just looking over some of the past posts, and even the “Life as it Stands Today” post is seriously out-dated and really doesn’t accurately reflect where things are anymore.

Honestly, I almost feel like this blog has become a snapshot of where I was and where I’ve been, but no longer represents where I am now and where I’m headed in the future.  But it’s all still part of the journey of my life which is what this blog was supposed to be about, right?

I’m torn between continuing this blog and refocusing the content for the future, or maybe just archiving this to remain “as is” and starting something new.  Don’t worry … I plan to keep blogging. Just not certain how I want to approach it from here.

Any thoughts, dear readers, on where to go from here?  Also, I’m just curious if anyone’s even still out there reading anymore.  :-)

Random streaming (screaming?) thoughts for today -

As he curled into a tight little ball, his mother towering over him and screaming about how stupid he is and how he needs to be nice to his brother, he murmured, “Mommy, please don’t hit me.”

The plea in the tiny four-year-old voice was heartbreaking.  But what could I do?  I didn’t see anything.  I didn’t hear anything besides the quiet plea to not be hit.  There had been no sound of a hand hitting a small body, or an object being swung against tiny legs.

But I knew.  I knew that I knew that I knew this sad, broken, frightened child was a victim of abuse.  My repeated calls to Child Protective Services were ignored.  No authority or expert ever came to investigate.  But every day the screaming and name-calling and threats and swearing went on and on.

During the winter, it’s so much more peaceful.  Closed doors and windows make for a quiet neighborhood.  But summer brings open windows, open doors, and the loud angry, belittling sounds of verbal abuse reverberating from across the lawn.  My family is traumatized by hearing the angry shouting and swearing coming through our windows as clearly as if the abusers were standing in the middle of our living room rampaging verbally at us.  I close the windows, but the heat is sweltering.  No air conditioning to allow us peace from living in the midst of never-ending anger.

Cycles of abuse.

Lack of impulse control seems to be epidemic in my neighborhood.  Is it untreated ADD?  Undealt with generational abuse?  Poor parenting skills?  Lack of education?  Well, whatever it is, it breaks my heart and shatters the lives of this new generation of tiny people.  They are growing up amid raging adults who have either never learned to control themselves, or never been taught proper behaviors, or victims of abuses, themselves.

Pray for these children.  The ones who will someday become the parents who will then repeat these cycles with their own tiny ones.  “I’ll never be like my mother (or father)!” they say.   Many of us say.   But wait.  Whose voice is that screaming at your child?  Is it yours?  Yes.  Is it the haunting voice of the Ghost of Parenting Past?  Yes, probably some of that, too.

Stop the cycle.

If you recognize yourself in any of this, take responsibility for yourself and for your actions.  Own your mistakes.  Seek help.

Do it now.

For your children’s sake.  And for their children, too.

Onward and upward …

grad umbrellas

A freshly minted University of Washington graduate … ME! UW Class of 2014

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Next stop … Grad School! Master of Fine Arts in Creative Writing and Poetics – beginning Autumn 2014

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My youngest daughter, Shannon, and I both graduated this year (me from the University of Washington and my daughter from high school).  To celebrate, we were given a 7 day cruise of the Caribbean on the Disney Fantasy by assorted family members who pooled their gifts together to give us the cruise, the airfare, ground transportation, and port adventures.

We arrived home Saturday evening and I think I’ve slept more than I’ve been awake ever since. Jet lag, mainly, but I often come home from vacations ready to sleep for several days even though I actually do feel rested from the vacation.

Anyway, a great time was had by all. I’d never been to the Caribbean before … I was absolutely blown away by the color of the water. I didn’t know water came in so many shades of deep vibrant blues and greens (and even purples!). Hope you’re having a great summer (or winter if you’re in the Southern Hemisphere).

I should be back to at least semi-regular posting again now that I’m back home (and awake).  Also, I won’t have homework looming over me for a couple of more months.  I start Grad School at the end of September.  :)

 

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Loving Myself for Lent

Debi:

My daughter’s latest blog post.

Originally posted on Kelsey Munger:

CC Loco Steve

CC Image courtesy of Loco Steve Flickr

I was in eighth grade the first time I was ever introduced to the idea of “fasting.” My youth group, like many evangelical youth groups throughout the country, was participating in the 30 Hour Famine — a fundraiser for a very Christian-y relief organization. We were sent out to knock on doors and beg family and friends into supporting us as we fasted for 30 hours in order to get a taste of poverty.

I hadn’t wanted to participate in the event but Youth Pastor had guilted me into it (that’s why I ended up going on a lot of youth group activities, now that I think about it).  I hadn’t liked the idea of going without food for 30 hours, worried about my blood sugar, and that style of fund raising made me a little uncomfortable, but people were starving so who was…

View original 1,350 more words

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