Meet Finny and a Little Clarification

Okay, so clearly I have the opinions about Lent.

Really I have opinions about participating in religious rituals just for the sake of it rather than finding the meaning.

But apparently I didn't pay a lot of attention to how my previous post came across.

So, for clarification: 

• I have hidden zero bodies.
  
• I have murdered the same amount.
  
• I have pushed minimal children down just to see them cry.
  
• I have stolen $0 from old lady retirement funds.

Now that is cleared up, here is the reason behind my post (without getting too personal).

Have you ever heard they saying, "A body in motion tends to stay in motion, a body at rest tends to stay at rest." (law of physics...whatever)

Let's just say I have a good long spiritual nap.

I'm not out stealing from the poor and buying crack with it. Good grief.

But I stopped reading. And then I slacked on praying. And then I lost some faith.

And then He reminded to me to better.

And I was all, "Nah. I'm good."

Rinse and repeat for quite some time. And the Lenten season came around and I snapped out of it. It is time to make some changes. It is time to put effort back into my relationship with God. It is time to stop doing the same thing and expecting different results.

I know where I lost faith. That's my personal journey.

So stop thinking I'm out there stealing Girl Scout cookies. It isn't all that. Just trying to get my shit together. Nothing more complicated.

And now I'd like to do a little segment of,
 
"Haaaaaaaaaaaaave you met, Finny?"

If you follow me on Instagram, you already know Finny.

Finny is my son's alter ego.

When he is feeling sassy, he asks to dress up in girl clothes.

This is giving some people in my life a little heartburn.

I'm alright with it. Here is why.

I grew up with the name Rikki.

I grew up playing sports. Competively.

And not like, "we really like to win," competitively. I mean, like "win or live in shame" competitively.

Bleeding? Limping?

Rub some dirt on it and get back out there.

I grew up thinking Barbies were lame as hell and if I did have some? They were naked and missing limbs.

I grew up thinking trucks and cars were the SHIZ.

I grew up loathing the color pink and dresses.

I grew up helping my mom gut deer (or letting her throw major organs at me, whatever).

I grew up in home that taught me to take care of myself and if that meant breaking a boy's nose because he wouldn't stop throwing rocks at me, so be it!

And guess what?

I still like to charm the one-eyed snake, mmkay?

That didn't turn me "butch" or "lesbian" because I was into typical male stuff. Gender rules are LAME!

So if Sam wants to try on my skirt and make his hair pretty... okay. 15 minutes later he'll be wiping boogers on me anyway. It's whatevs.

You know what the real shame would be?

If he was born gay, and instead of letting him explore that, I stifled him and made him feel ashamed of who he is. Then he grows up thinking he is "less than" and hiding who he is from his mother.

So Finny, go on and be FABULOUS!