as is

The majority of the blogs I read for fun are written by women at least ten years younger than I am. Shit, since I am now a venerated fifty years old (I honestly get nauseous ever time I type/say that) I would hazard a guess that most of them are actually TWENTY years younger than me. There just aren’t a LOT of bloggers out there my age that write about subjects that I am remotely interested in.

If you are and you do, I stand corrected.

One of the biggest things that I have a hard time wrapping my head around the mothers who treat their children as though they’re fragile little organisms that must be protected from everything from the common cold bug to the “f” word to … well, just about everything.

Kids are resilient little buggers and I state that from first hand knowledge. I had some pretty unpleasant things said to and about me as a child and had some downright evil shit DONE to me. I’m talking the kind of shit the people spend time in jail for, the kind of shit that gets their asses beat in the prison showers.

But I digress.

In spite of the shit that I endured as a child I managed to grow up and become not only a productive member of society (well, I WAS productive, I’ve slacked off just recently ;)); I have managed to maintain a pretty strong and secure marriage for 25 years and BigD and I have managed to raise two kids to functioning, pretty well adjusted adults.

What’s more, despite having plenty of googlies from my past to blame them on, I don’t have much on the way of drinking, drugging, gambling, eating or spending problems.

Honestly, I am the most normal crazy person I know (she said, patting herself on the back). If I could figure out how I managed to get out of that mess with the majority of my wits intact, I’d copyright – or trademark or whatever – the concept and make a bazillion bucks. I don’t KNOW why I’m not a crazy person.

I DO know however why my kids are as awesome as they are. I and their father didn’t try to shield them from everything that came down the pike, whether it was a cold bug or a swear word. When they were born we took responsibility for having them and gave up some of our freedoms, but not ALL of them.

We didn’t instill them with a false sense of privilege or entitlement and made sure that they learned respect and responsibility.

We didn’t buy them everything they wanted. We taught them that sometimes life wasn’t fair and that the good guy didn’t always win. We taught them that winning wasn’t everything.

They got yelled at and we spanked them up until they were too big to spank. They got their fingers smacked when they touched something they should have and they got their asses paddled for more serious infractions. But they were never spanked in anger and they never walked away from a punishment, whether it was a spanking or a grounding, without the reassurance that we loved them more than anything in the world.

I think my generation started this whole “protecting” their kids bullshit and it has morphed out of control to the point where our children and grandchildren have have no care or concern for anyone but themselves and their wants.

Feh …


My Gawd, I love the Internet.

I love it for the people I’ve met and the people I’ve re-connected with and the people I STAY connected with.

I love it for replacing the yellow pages and for keeping me from having to search for my dog-eared thesaurus and for making it easy-peasy for me to find directions from here to there without having to buy a map and I love it because I never have to buy another TV guide.

I love it for the gut-busting humor and the confirmation of the myriads of useless information that I have floating around inside my addled brain and the little glimpses into others lives.

I love it for the step by step tutorials that teach me how to do something I thought I’d never be able to do and the tutorials that teach me a better or faster or cheaper way to do something I already know how to do.

I ♥ you, Internet!


Yes, I did take the time out to actually make this graphic, lol!