Thursday, October 10, 2013

A Stream of Consciousness

Today, I heard an advertisement on the radio for a casting call catering to young girls.  They asked if your daughter likes to "sing and dance," and has ever "dreamed of being on their favorite shows such as Wizards of Waverly Place or The Suite Life."  I wondered who falls for this load of bull anymore. Don't we have a collective awareness that turning our kids into commodities is dangerous - if not fatal?

A friend (who I've actually never met, in real life) posted the following video on Facebook.  I have to confess that I loved it.  Miley Cyrus strips down We Can’t Stop! And while I am a huge lover of the party anthem and dance music, if you look at the poor child who is at the literal center of the music, you will see an addicted, broken shell who needed protection about ten years ago.



I've had an uncharacteristically difficult time transitioning from Homeschooling-Mother-of-5-Kids to Public-Schooling-Mother-With-Only-One-At-Home.  You can hate me or think I am a baby when I confess to you in all humility that I don't know what to do with myself. This is not something that I think is cute or humblebragging.  I am wont for a purpose and those are difficult waters to navigate. So, in an effort to get out of the house, Lucy and I went to H&M where I purchased a pair of MC Hammer pants, or what the upstarts like to call harem pants. Here's the thing friends: they are hella fresh.  I am fairly certain that they will be my new uniform until such time that Doc Martins and prairie skirts come back "in" and then I WILL BE ALL OVER IT.

I am contemplating using natural deodorant.

This week, I joined Twitter because, I don't know.  My foray into the Twitter-verse has forced my sweet husband to shut his own account down.  Sometimes I feel like Pepe LePew and the Cat with him on the internet.  Good thing he loves the daylights out of me, IRL.

Sometimes I feel guilty if I don't blog for a long time.  Like, someday when my kids are poring over my writings after I have gone to Jesus, they will wish that I had continued my tribute-journal to our life together.  So, if that is indeed the case, dear children this is my contribution to our posterity.

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