Marriage Equality and Easter: Enter with Caution

This post is not for the faint of heart. I'm about to ruffle some feathers.

Earlier this week, I'm sure everyone noticed the trend on Facebook to change your profile picture to an equal sign to take a stand and say you support marriage equality. This is because DOMA and Proposition 8 made it to the Supreme Court this week.



Big deal, folks. Big deal.

I was overwhelmed by the amount of people that chose to do this too. Really. I've been for marriage equality for a while now, longer than most of my friends on Facebook, but to see that trend? I was moved.

And then a new, not as big of a trend, started. A red sign with the men and women from the bathroom symbols holding hands.



Not gonna lie. The first one I saw made me a little miffed. I'm not so naive as to think everyone supports marriage equality. But to outwardly publicize that you are against it? It just seemed hateful.

And this may seem hypocritical because I outwardly publicized that I was for it. But here is my problem with it:

As Christians, we are called to love everyone. Show the love of Christ every day.

And I have talked to several Christians who believe they can actively protest marriage equality (they call it "gay marriage") and still love others as Christ called them too.

No you can't. I'm sorry. But it isn't possible.

Love the sinner, hate the sin? Yeah that's offensive.

This "sin" is a part of who they are. This is a part of THEM. This is a person. And hating a "sin" that is a part of them... that's offensive.

And by simply posting the red and white hetero couple holding hands as a symbol just put up this HUGE roadblock between you and anyone you would have hoped to reach. You can love them all you want, they see hate. Every time.

In their eyes, no matter what, you hate them. You may not hate all of them, but you hate some of them. And Christians aren't supposed to hate. This is why being a Christian in America is frowned upon by those who are still unbelieving.

My question is, "Why change your picture at all?" If you don't support marriage equality, then just don't change your picture. No one is offended if you don't change your picture.

But the moment you change your picture to actively show your distaste, that you oppose people marrying the person they love... You've lost the battle. You've lost the potential connection. And while you may honest to goodness love everyone, those who need it the most will never feel it from you.

Now to confront the other profile pic to contrast the marriage equality picture.

The cross. (Remember how I said I was going to ruffle some feathers)



I'll say this, posting this picture is of good intentions. I clearly have no problems with the cross.

And the premise behind posting this is that this is the week of Easter and our focus should be on the sacrifice that was made on the cross and not other "distractions".

People have even gone so far as to commend the devil for his job well done on distracting so many from the importance of this week and onto these symbols and other issues.

Here's my problem with this:

Jesus died on the cross. How He died was horrendous. To be betrayed by those who claimed to love Him the most... To be denied by those who claimed to love Him the most... To be ridiculed and crucified... That is the ultimate sacrifice. And it makes me emotional to think about.

But He paid the ultimate sacrifice for EVERYONE.

"For God so loved the WORLD..."

The world.

When I changed my profile picture to the equal sign, I wanted those who are oppressed in our nation to know they had at least one more person in their corner. Someone loves them for them.

And many others made the same choice. And person after person posted how they were moved by this and were overwhelmed by the love.

How is that a distraction from the devil?

Christians reaching out and loving everyone... what more appropriate week to do this than Easter week?

The fact of the matter is, this isn't distracting from Easter.

What? Are we distracted from all the chocolate and colorful eggs?

A giant colorful bunny who sneaks into your home to lay eggs in a basket (last I checked bunnies aren't the egg laying type) along with other expensive gifts?

Last I checked, you couldn't walk into a store without being overwhelmed with pastels, eggs, chocolates, and pictures of bunnies in a abundance. Isn't that a bit distracting?

The truth of the matter is I haven't been this connected to Easter in a long time. Sure, every year I spend time thinking about what it must have been like and it moves me.

But this year? This year I can outstretch Jesus's love to a population in the world that gets the message every day that they don't deserve it.

Fact of the matter is, none of us deserve it. But Jesus took the cross for us anyway. All of us.

Tonight Didn't Go as Planned

I say tonight didn't go as planned as if I had any plans. My plans consisted of picking up Sam, going home, cooking dinner, taking a shower, and putting Sam to bed. Pretty reg-sauce.

And we did all of those things.

It's the chapters in between those things that were... well... odd...

For one, I cleaned up A LOT more urine than I had originally planned. (Notice, there was no "clean up lots of urine" listed in my original plans between cooking dinner and taking a shower)

As Justin and I were attempting to clean up the kitchen, Sam announced he needed to go "pee pee". The light was already on in the bathroom so we just sent him by himself.

He then came in and said, "Mommy, I got pee pee on my panties." (I messed up and called his undies "panties" once a few times. It stuck. I realize the error of my ways.)

I said, "That's okay baby. Just take them off."

He says, "Okay mommy. I'm sorry." And then retreats back to the bathroom.

He emerges again and he says, "Mommy. There is pee pee everywhere."

That's my queue. Justin was EAGER to do dishes once this little announcement was made.

I got into the bathroom and realized pee pee was, in fact, everywhere.

He had peed on his pants, shirt, shoes, socks, top of the toilet, toilet seat, down the toilet, and all in the floor. I'd say it wasn't on the ceiling but truth of the matter is I didn't investigate hard enough to confirm or deny.

I went back in the kitchen to tell Justin we'd be a while. A shower was required.

That was the first surprise of the night.

After the shower, Sam and I were talking in the living room when he found a book about Christmas. He then proceeded to tell me all about how Santa comes down the chimney. Pretty regular kid stuff.

But then he took a left turn and started asking me why he comes down the chimney, why not the door?

Folks, that's hard to answer. It isn't hard to answer because the reasons you are thinking. Most kids could be placated rather easily. My child though, would quickly realize that if Santa came down the chimney, so could any bum off the street. He would also question Santa's ability to carry around a key to EVERY HOUSE.

Luckily, we didn't linger here long because Sam announced that if Santa wouldn't use the front door, he was just going to set a fire in the fireplace.

That'll teach Santa not to listen to advice!

The story evolved into Sam was going to set Santa's booty on fire and make him poop.

This made Sam need to poop. For real.

I get him in the bathroom and he does his binniz. When it was time to wipe, he said, "I wipe by  myself mommy."

I said, "No. You can't even reach your booty that well. Momma do it."

He said, "Yeah I can! See!" and proceeds to reach in front of his man area to try and touch his booty.

Ew.

It is here where I made a mistake.

What I should have said was, "Sam that is shoeey! We wipe from the back, okay?"

What I actually said was, "If you wipe like that your giblets will smell like poo poo!"

In Sam's eyes, I've never said anything funnier.

Mommy. Fail.

(Sorry Susan! And any other parents who hear about poopy giblets in the near future!)

After we got cleaned up, it was time to get ready for bed. We went through our bedtime routine.

When it came time to pray, I said, "Sam what do you want to pray for?"

Normally he comes up with a range of different things: his favorite food, candy, his friends, his family, toys, whatever he likes at the time.

Tonight?

"I wanna pray for.... booty!"

(He's such a dude.)

I laughed and agreed.

We pray like this: I say a line and he repeats it. All the way to "amen."

Tonight it went like this:

Me: Dear Jesus...
Sam: Dear Jesus...
Me: Thank you for booty...
Sam: Thank you for BOOOOTTYYYYY....
Me: Thank you for little booties...
Sam: Thank you for BIG BOOTIES!!!!
(laughter)
Me: Thank you for big booties...
Sam: Thank you for little booties...
(giggles)
Me: Thank you for Santa's booty...
(pause)
Sam: Thank you for BIG BOOTIES!
Me (with defeat in my voice): Amen.
Sam: Amen.... (whisper) Booty. 

So tonight I planned on a normal night at home, eating dinner, taking a shower, watching tv, and bedtime routine with Sam.

Tonight, I got a bucket full of urine scattered around my bathroom, poopy giblets, Santa's first death threat from my household, and a glimpse into puberty.

This mommy stuff is legit.

Sights and Sounds at UALR!

I was recently asked by our communications office on campus to write a "Day in the Life Of" post for our Sights and Sounds blog on campus. I typically don't like to mix work and this blog, but I thought I'd share it with you all anyway. Some of you are curious and most of you have no idea what I do. Here ya go! Also, check out our Sights and Sounds blog here.

Rikki Turner here from the Office of Student Housing at UALR! 

I'm the Assistant Director for Residence Life which basically means my job is all the fun stuff in life. I supervise the hall directors, graduate assistants, and resident assistants. I'm in charge of recruitment and training for all of these phenomenal folks as well. I make sure living on campus is fun and beneficial. Seriously, my job is amazing.

My desk though... scary. When asked to do this post, I thought, "I'm going to tidy up my desk a bit before taking the picture. It'll scare them less." But,  where's the fun in that? That doesn't give you the real picture. And to be honest, this picture is actually pretty good. I must have just organized!

The nature of my job is that I can never know what any one day will be like. One day could be filled with paperwork while another I never get to actually come into my office because I'm out dealing with student issues. Therefore, to keep my sanity, I keep Pandora on at. all. times.

Some of my favorite stations (to show you how weird this truly gets):

Miranda Lambert
Mumford and Sons
Maroon 5
Color Me Badd
Pitbull
Louis Armstrong
Jack Johnson
New Kids on the Block

Eclectic right? It all depends on the day which one will be playing. Currently it is Mumford and Sons.

As I stated before, most of the time I have A LOT of balls in the air. I hear people use some pretty fancy apps to manage their to-do lists. Me? White board. Expo marker. There is something oddly satisfying about crossing something off of a list. Especially if that list is color coated by category of the things that need to be done. And my whiteboard? Classroom size. I don't play with to-do lists.

My work schedule is your typical 8-5, Monday through Friday. Unless there is a program. Or an emergency. Or I have work to be done and need to come in early. Or the work isn't finished and I need to stay late. Or if there is a big event on the weekend. Or if it is training and I need to stay for 10 days straight. Or if training runs into opening and I need to stay for 20 days in a row. Or if something happens at 2 am that needs my attention. So yeah, pretty typical.

With this type of schedule, it can be hard to keep up with where I need to be at what times. But not anymore! Because Google calendar is AMAZING!

Seriously, can't live without it. I have EVERYTHING on my Google calendar and it sends me a text message 10 minutes before any event I have on it. My love for the Googles runs pretty deep, I must say.

In keeping with my love for the Googles, I also love PCs. This doesn't mean I dislike Macs, I just find when using a Mac it takes me about twice as long to do anything. I'm indoctrinated in the PC world. But... iPhone for life! These shouldn't be confused.

And finally, to make it through each day, there is an adequate amount of snacking. What is pretty consistent across the board?

Coffee. I try to kick the habit around 2 pm but I make no promises. Some days are harder than others.

I keep a bag of almonds at my desk.

I also love those Nature Valley Granola Thins. They are seriously like healthy little Keebler cookies. So good.

Lastly, I try to keep a box of Welch's Island Fruit Gummy Snacks in my office. This is not only for myself, but my staff likes to raid my stash of snacks from time to time and these seem to be their favorite. They are spoiled.

And clearly I should go check out what is going on in the fitness center and get myself on a treadmill. I think I'll grab a cup of coffee first.

The importance of saying "please"

Last night, we went out to east with my sister's family. There were 7 of us at the table.

Our waitress was mediocre. She was on the ball for a few minutes and then would be MIA for several minutes. I had overheard the hostess when we came in say how understaffed they were so we didn't mind waiting a little longer than usual to get drink refills.

She came around to get more drink refills and Sam wanted more lemonade. As she was filling Gunner's lemonade, I was helping Sam get his lid off. She asked him, "do you want more lemonade."

Sam nodded his head.

Justin said, "then say please."

Sam shook his head.

Pause

I know most people would sail right passed this and fill the lemonade and be done.

Not us. Please and thank you are very important. My son will grow up being respectful. Not saying please and thank you to the wait staff is not something I'm prepared to tolerate.

Unpause.

Justin got a stern voice with him and said, "Sam say please."

He turned his head into me and shook his head again. I looked up at the waitress and said, "I'm sorry. He doesn't need any lemonade, thank you."

She said okay and walked away.

Sam has a small mental breakdown about not getting anything to drink and I whisked him away to the bathroom for a little "come to Jesus" moment.

We came out with an understanding that he needed to tell her sorry for being rude.

She came back to the table. He couldn't do it. He could not make himself apologize.

She told him it was okay. I said, "it's not okay. Sam tell her you're sorry."

He hid his head in my shoulder.

Off we went to have another talk.

We got away from anyone and I swatted his little booty and put him in time out.

Pause.

The mere mention of a spanking is normally enough to right his path. A spanking needn't be painful for him. He crumbles at the first love pat.

Me giving him a few swats at a restaurant should have sent him into a tailspin.

Unpause.

He just looked at me angrily. His lip was quivering but he was determined he wasn't going to cry.

Stubborn.

Once we sat there for a little while, I finally asked him, "what should you have done?"

He said, "say sorry."

I asked him if he wanted one more chance. He did.

This time we went to find her.

He tried to be shy and not say it again. He finally mumbled "I'm sorry" to me. I said, "well honey you didn't do anything to me. Apologize to her."

And he did. She thanked him and all was well.

What I found out later was while Sam and I were gone, she had come to the table and told Justin, "society thanks you."

Now that was very sweet of her to say, but why did she have to say that?

I'll tell you why, because it rarely happens anymore. Children being rude is tolerated and shushed, not corrected.

I've been a waitress before. It sucks. People treat you poorly. You work your ass off for not enough pay. You take a lot of crap from a lot of people. My child is not going to be one of those people.

And some parents say, "oh well they are so young. They don't understand what they are doing."

You're right. Sam is 3. Of course he doesn't know what he is doing. What effect being rude to others has on them? On him?

But how in hell do you think he is going to learn what he is doing? Are we just wishful thinking that they will pick it up eventually? Are we expecting the tooth fairy to instill this knowledge in our children?

I don't know the reasons a lot of parents choose not to discipline their children. My guess is there are a myriad of possibilities.

-don't want to create a ruckus in public
-excuse the behavior because they are a child
-don't want to embarrass the child
-feel powerless or overwhelmed by the thought of being in charge of a human life

I don't know all of the reasons. I just know that when Sam is turned loose into the world, I don't want him to be a raging asshole.

I want him to value other people.

I want him to be thankful and courteous.

I want him to be as nice to the custodian as he is to the CEO.

If I don't show him how to, who will?

This post isn't about what we did right. Had our waitress not made the comment about society thanking us, this post wouldn't exist. It wouldn't have occurred to me to write it.

But she felt the need to comment on what I viewed as basic parenting.

So to Stephanie, our waitress:

Society thanks you. Thank you for serving others in an under appreciated role. Thank you for making our meal time a pleasant one. And thank you for playing an active role in teaching my son the value of "please, thank you, and I'm sorry."

And yes, she got a fat tip. She earned it.

Sam is a Sour Patch Kid

This post is riddled with over-sharing... you've been warned.

You know the commercials for Sour Patch Kids? First they're sour, then they're sweet?

Here's a reminder...



This was the theme of the night for Sam.

It all started when he wanted to "knock me over." This isn't the sour part.

This is a nightly routine for us. He wants to knock me over so I sit Indian-style in the floor, he gets a running start, and knocks me over.

Except Sam is a special breed of stocky. He's short but wide. And packed with muscle. So sometimes him knocking me over can smart a bit. But it's fun so I continue to do it.

Enter tonight.

He wants to knock me over. I agree. And the next thing I know?

He kicked me in the hoo-ha.

Yup. Right in the lady biscuit.

Now I'm no dude. My ovaries don't dangle outside my body in a very thin skin covered sack. So I'm not going to say it was excruciating.

I will say, though, I didn't care for it much. I'd even go so far as to use the word "unpleasant."

His response? Laughter. And lots of it.

My response? "It's a good thing I don't have giblets."

Fast forward a few minutes...

Sam apparently rolled in dirt at Susan's today. This is not a problem, just means no skipping the bath. Except for on the way home, I was convinced that I've told people to "eat dirt" so many times that I may have actually tried to myself b/c I kept feeling dirt in my teeth (Now I didn't actually eat dirt nor did I roll in it but as I walked on campus today it appeared I was in a wind tunnel so I'm guessing that's where this developed).

Bottom line is we decided to just take a shower.

More back story: I lost a toenail today. Whole toenail... off of my toe. I'm batting with 10 toes and 9 nails to cover them. This could also be described as unpleasant.

So we jump in the shower. Turns out toenails are important. They protect against the heat of the water which is surprisingly painful on freshly exposed toenail undergrowth.

They protect against 3-year olds who accidentally stomp on them.

And make their mothers scream out in anguish.

Which makes said 3 year old giddy like a chimpanzee on banana delivery day.

And said 3 year old then takes aim ready to strike again.

Here's the sweet part. Once he realized I was actually in pain and this wasn't like the dramatic lady bit antics from earlier, he said, "Here momma, I kiss it." Then he bent down in the shower, on all fours, so he could kiss my toe. And he took special care to not step on it again.

Now this is Sam we are talking about. We can't leave it all wrapped up in a pretty bow like that.

After we got out of the shower, Sam was horsing around with me (per usual). Then suddenly, he was running at me. Both arms outstretched. Little hands wrapped into fists.

And he ran into me. Fists first.

Right in my lady lumps.

It hurt.

This too... can be described as unpleasant.

But how can you be mad at a kid like this?

Adventures in 3 year old fishing

We decided to introduce Sam to fishing this past weekend.

We went in the middle of the day, like idiots. So from Sam's perspective, we sat on the dock, slaughtered worms and grotesquely positioned them on hooks, threw them out to the water, waited, reeled back in, and repeat. like a really mean worm water park.

He kept saying, "I wanna eat a fish!"

Well so do I. But the fish aren't hungry.

We took another stab at it tonight. Or so we thought until we retrieved our innocent victims (read: worms) from the fridge to realize they are frozen solid.

That must have sucked.

Not to be deterred, we just fished with lures.

Neither Justin or myself have ever had any luck with this but we were at the pond, might as well try.

About halfway through, I'm pretty sure Sam was convinced that fishing consisted of standing next to the water and shaking a stick at it. Clearly no fish were actually involved on the process.

So off he went with his grandma inside to play and eat chips. I called my sister to work out weekend plans. It is now so dark we can't see much and Justin says, "I'm just doing this until you get off the phone." indicating this was just a time killer at this point.

Then shit started flopping around at the end of the line! No one was more surprised than Justin!

I ran and got Sam who was intrigued but cautious. I told him to touch it. He did.

I doubt he does that again.

Justin was giddy beyond belief. Sam wanted to eat it. And I documented the occasion.

I'm really just thankful Sam knows its possible. I was starting to feel like a epic failure.

Enjoy the pics!

The first one is our Saturday attempt.

He slept! Oh holy night he slept!

Guys... it finally happened.

I'm not declaring the battle won. Nothing like that. But I put my son in the bed last night at 9 pm and I didn't hear from him again until 6:45 am this morning!

He slept past when I told him he could get up!

Now what did it take for us to get here? Let's review.

We bought him a lollipop that he could have only when he stayed in his bed all night (he promptly tried to trick me to let him sleep downstairs so he didn't end up on the stairs. When that didn't work, he just told me he'd get the lollipop "tomorrow", he didn't want it today, he'd rather sleep downstairs).

We tried to calmly put him back in his bed every time he gets up (to which he reacted like his mattress was made of molten lava).

We tried consequences: no cartoons, spanking. To this he responded: Screaming and running from his bed, "I DON'T WANT CARTOONS! I DON'T WANT CARTOONS!" or for the spanking, he just took them. 6 in a row from me. 2 more from daddy. Didn't matter. I could have beat him with a tire iron and he would have been fine with it so long as he didn't have to stay in his bed.

We tried putting an extra tall baby gate on his door and holding him prisoner in his own room. His response? Break out of Alcatraz! We heard loud thumping from the living room, to which we didn't respond b/c we thought it was part of a fit. I heard him yawn and it seemed awfully close to us so when we went to investigate, this is what we found:

That's my son. Asleep on the stairs.

Then we tried letting him pick out his own nightlight. His room was better lit. But he didn't spend much time in there enjoying it.

We tried making him promise other people that he'd stay in bed. I think I need to work on his ethics.

Grandma offered to buy him a race car if he stayed in the bed. This was two nights ago. And he almost did it. He only came downstairs once. And when he did, he came into my room, crawled on the floor and just laid by my side of the bed. He didn't want me to know he was in there.

To our final strategy (which I'm not convinced "worked" but it just happened to be the last thing we tried):


This is the Naroo, OK to Wake Clock.

It turns green when it is "ok to wake". The child is not allowed to get up until the clock turns green.

What did I hear this morning at 6:45 am?! (How exciting is that?! Normally the latest I hear from him is 5:45 am. This is a big deal!)

"MOMMY! It is green! It is green, Mommy!!!"

I hope this sticks. It was magnificent getting to actually sleep last night.

Buttercup Mountain and Resolution Update

Every year, we try to go to Wye Mountain in Bigelow to see the buttercups. This small little Methodist church planted all these daffodils and it is this huge field of flowers. It is really beautiful.

Here are some of the pics we got. We were actually there this time to take someone's bridals, but we got a few in of Sam and myself before she arrived.

We had so much fun! And I just love the pics of Sam.

Resolution Update:

Due to my unexpected high cholesterol, keeping the weight off has been pretty easy! We will find out April 8 if the diet change has worked. It is important to note that if there has been no change in my cholesterol (not higher, not lower), I may have a mental breakdown. I refuse to take medicine for cholesterol at the ripe bold age of 28. Not. Happening.

I have yet to walk to work. That's been nice.

Justin and I are hit and miss on the quality time. It is so easy to get wrapped up in our own little world once the boy goes to bed. But this is an active effort and we are doing alright.

The house... I hate cleaning. I did really well until Sam got sick. Then it got overwhelming and I haven't recovered. I will though. Slowly but surely. It hasn't gotten crazy out of control yet so at least there is that. There has been some improvement.

Books: I have read two books and I'm working on my third. It is important to note, I've read all of them this month! LOL

BTW: If you are looking for a good book: The Art of Racing in the Rain. Geez it is good. 

I couldn't get going in January and February but with the recent trip to Vegas, I was able to knock out two (b/c Vegas is way overrated and I'm a dork who would rather read than party in Vegas).

And we are still working on the alphabet with Sam. I'm confident we will get it sooner rather than later. We are currently working on him learning his address.

I think that is all. I haven't checked my resolution post in a while. If I missed one you want an update about (like you care that much) let me know. Peace.

Being a Real Mom in a Fake World: ACPA Reflection

While at ACPA in Vegas, I attended a program about how supervision is a lot like parenting a toddler.

I almost didn't go to the session because my thought process was, "well duh! Of course it is!"

And I could list all the ways I see parallels here and even some of the new ones I picked up in the session, but that wasn't the biggest take away I had from that program.

What I thought the presenter did best was present the "real" side of being a mom and the "real" side of supervising.

I get criticized a lot for being too real. I say it like it is. I cuss. I'm not phenomenal at "keeping up appearances."

And here is why: it is exhausting.

Living is hard enough without having to try and keep up with the Joneses.

You know what?

Sometimes your kid is an asshole. Sometimes your employees are assholes.

Sometimes I react poorly to my kid's needs.
Sometimes I react poorly to my employees' needs.

Sometimes being a mom sucks!
Sometimes being a supervisor sucks!

And yet the overall message is the same:

My son is my reason for life and I can't imagine life without him.
My job is my passion in life and I can't imagine life without it.

Why do we have this compulsion to make sure everyone knows how awesome and put together we are? Do people really learn from that?

I get more positive feedback because I'm "real" than I ever have gotten for being seemingly "well put together."

No one wants to surround themselves with jackasses who never make mistakes.

BORING!

And what is there to learn with that?

Nothing.

So my charge here is to drop the act. Be real. Share with your staff the fact that your son acted like he got into the bath salts last night and you are a bit on edge. Share the good, the bad, and the ugly about supervision with your mentees. How else will they know?

Life is beautiful if you just allow yourself to live it. Share the actual experience with others. Not what you think the experience should be.

*note: this blog was written on a phone. The author is aware of your and you're and their proper uses. She is also an exceptional speller in real life. Her sausage like fingers and love/hate relationship with autocorrect proves problematic in social media from time to time.