The "Girl Who Was Kidnapped"

I was watching a video on Facebook (I know, I know) in which Elizabeth Smart said that during her abduction she couldn't believe that someone could be that evil. That when presented with the fact that she would be consummating a marriage she didn't consent to, and had not been aware was even going to happen she couldn't believe He really meant it. THIS is a problem. If you are so focused on getting your children to feel safe, and happy that you have neglected to teach them that there is REAL evil in the world; shame on you. I have walked away from the darkest underbelly of the universe. I have seen the evil she saw. I have absolutely no qualms in telling my children, as young as they are, that there are tricky people out there who want to hurt them. Who want to do unspeakable things to them. I am trying to keep them safe, and I am trying to help them learn to keep themselves safe. . . But those people exist. Every time we talk about the good in the world it has been prefaced with the evil. I refuse to let my children grow up believing that evil exists someplace outside of our world. That it "won't happen here". That that type of thing happens to other people, and not to us. I wish that I could find the video and quote her exactly on this point. It's a crucial moment in her story. It's so important. People focus on all these other details. The things that were used in the case, the things that people did to find her, the reasons she was targeted. While these are indeed instrumental parts of the story they are not what I would consider a crucial detail. I consider it a pivotal, and crucial part of her story that she could not believe that anyone could be that evil. Meaning, in her 12yr old mind, the most evil people were portrayed in history books and far off places. I'm not against protecting children from horrible situations. I would not recommend exposing them to things that are not age appropriate, but you can prepare them for the idea that evil is not a world away, or something that exists in the past. They can understand that tricky people want to hurt them without having to know the gory, unsettling details. I just struggle to understand how a child of 12 can go through life not knowing that people are THAT evil. That they exist today, now, in this moment. They exist in our neighborhoods. They exist in our homes sometimes. They walk past our schools, shopping centers, and homes. They seem like normal people, and they seem like the crazy person who makes you think twice while walking to your car. You can NOT ignore the fact that to truly prepare your child to be the good in the world they MUST know that the evil is real. It is knocking on their door. The only defense is to recognize it so you can stand against it. Children prepared for the world around them don't just have a degree, or creative problem solving skills. They can see the evil of the world, and have the courage to stand against it. To do good deeds, and act when evil would swallow them whole.

I AM the Storm

I have seen a lot of those MEMEs about the Devil whispering that you can't withstand the storm, and the person answers "I am the storm". I'm getting really tired of all that. What if I don't want to be "the storm'? What if I don't think the world NEEDS anymore "storms"? What if I'm the Calm inside the Storm? The world around us is exploding with aggression, and fight responses. When confronted with challenges people fight. When confronted with heartache people fight. Maybe I want to be calm. I want to take a deep breath, drop my shoulders, bow my head, and let it go. I want to resonate with such calmness that I break-up the fighting. I want to be so deeply embedded in the calm that it draws people into it. I want to watch the world settle from the Storm and join in the Calmness. I believe that it is perfectly acceptable to not be the Storm; whipping around wildly, and slashing at everything insight. It is acceptable to not fight back. It is acceptable to resign yourself to a season of less than "what you deserve" in life. It is ok to not be ok. In our whirlwind of a busy world, and all the blogs, advice books, motivational speakers, and the like telling us it's ok to not be busy; we seem to not actually understand how that works. We still feel this draw to the Storm. Well, I've resigned from the Storm. I may not practice "peaceful parenting" ( yes, I yell at my kids when I've repeated myself 12 times), but I see no need to be busy. We have more days of lazy play at home than we have of playdates, and classes, and errands, and extra. We spend more time at home playing together. We know every nook of our house. Yet I find that most people are borderline appalled when they learn that I don't do all the stuff the world expects me to. Part of me worries and stresses out about it. Sometimes I wonder if my children will be upset that we didn't take professional photo's for their first birthday. I ponder their disappointment when they get married and their spouse has a million professional baby photo's from when they were first born, and all I've got for them are pictures I took with my iPhone in the hospital of them screaming at the fact that the nurse just took them from my womb and laid them on my chest. How dare She! I don't have milestone photo shoots with fancy chalkboards, or celebratory cakes, or even stickers I printed off Pinterest. I reflect on the lack of big fancy over-the-top parties for EVERY birthday. You get a bid deal on your 1st, maybe your 8th, but I am NOT that Mom. I've contemplated how much they'll feel like I stole something from them because I didn't do very many of the "trendy" things moms do. So this is Me, signing off. I REFUSE to be the Storm. I will not partake in the crazy. I will deny myself, and by association my Family, the chaos of the Storm of trendy new things that make us "busy". This is Me, take a step back. This is Me, breathing deeply. This is me, bowing my head and closing my eyes. This is Me, letting it all go. This is Me, being the Calm in the midst of the Storm. This is Me, inviting others to join me. This is Me, giving space for those who need to escape the Storm. This is Me, stepping into my comfort zone and learning to invite others inside. This is Me, taking back control over the peace I feel. This is Me, looking the Devil straight in the face and instead of telling him I can match him at his own game, saying; That's ok. I am the Calm that brings others out of the Storm. I am the friendly face, the kind gesture, the smile, the breath of fresh air, the support. I don't need to withstand the Storm, for I do not reside in it.

Drive-ins, Swimming, and All Things Summer

I'm not an easy person to like. I say that a lot. Most people see that as fishing for a compliment. I say it with the self realized evidence of the past several years. The one thing my Husband has admitted about first meeting me? He didn't really like me. He thought I was a "know-it-all". Most of the friends I have that stuck through the awkward stage? They'll say it took some time to "warm up" to the idea of being my friend. Most people will confess to me that they weren't certain about whether or not they could deal with me when we first met. . . Let that sink in for just a moment. Imagine being told for the better part of your late 20's early 30's that you are not the ideal, personable human being people befriend. Imagine being told regularly that you're "difficult" to enjoy. Now think about how that sits on the psyche. There's a good reason I don't reach out to people. There's a reason I don't go out of my way to go places, or throw parties, or even attend parties. Several reasons actually. The big ones come from what happened to me in my early 20's. The "little" ones come from the fact that I can't even get my own family to enjoy me, let alone strangers; so I just stay home. My children are difficult to like as well. Mostly because we spend so little time with people outside our own home. It's difficult to have play dates when no one wants to sit and talk to you as the adult. I stopped pretending I understand people in the middle of what was going on with me before. I stopped paying attention to whether people mattered when the Major was selling me as a commodity. It makes me difficult to like. I don't understand the purpose of small talk. I don't really care about gossip. I'm not all that interested in fashion, and the latest craze ( which should be evident by my inability to dress myself.), I don't know how to not be awkward. Awkward is kind of my default setting. I am out of place in the world. I don't fit in. I do better when I keep my mouth shut, but I end up dying a little inside because no one really knows who I am. I get an uncouth exuberance when a subject I know about is brought up. I feel personally insulted when people won't let me help them; because it happens so rarely that I can be useful. I feel a great deal of pain at the fact that my children are the wierdos because I can't make enough friends with children their age for them to have playmates. My heart breaks when they desperately want to play with someone, and I have made that impossible. There is a silent amount of guilt killing me because I am difficult to like. Yet if I pretend, and become likable, I also die a little inside. So, Parenting catch 22. Do you die inside because your children are lonely and unlike, or do you die inside because you're faking it? Maybe someday I will know the answer, and my children will forgive me for failing them in this area. Maybe.

To My Brother Shane,

Shane,

I'm gonna throw a tantrum and you just have to listen. I'm your little sister! You don't get to leave until I've said so! I'm the youngest, I get my way. That's how this works... Just ask anyone and they will tell you it's true. I am not done having you as a part of my life here on earth. I still need my big brother so you don't get to be done here yet. Call it selfish if you want I've never denied that I'm the spoiled one. You've been my friend, my inspiration, my example, my hero, and most importantly. . . My brother. I've decided Shane, you have to stay here with me so I don't have to miss you.

Your youngest little sister,

Deb