STOP!

Do NOT read any farther if you have any idea, whatsoever, of getting offended.
This is my space. For me to rant. To praise. To whine. Whatever.
Do NOT send me bitchy emails or messages about what you read here.
You don't have to like it and you don't have to read it either!







Sunday, November 21, 2010

Resistance is futile?

The hell you say! I am tired of folks trying to make me like them. I am pretty damn happy with things the way they are. I mean aside from the obvious 25 pounds that seem permanently attached to my ass, gut and thighs. I am happy with the way things are turning out for the most part. There are some serious things I would change both past and present, but I don't see that EVER happening so I have to move on. I have to push through it and hope desperately that there is an end to the tunnel. I have TONS of hope. Hope that my oldest will conquer whatever demons are eating him up with doubt and devouring his confidence faster than he can climb the mountains in front of him. Hope that my little guy continues on the path he is on. Hope that my husband will find a job he can be happy at. Hope that people will see me for me and think I am pretty rad as I am and not try to change me or tolerate me with barely disguised contempt. It really shouldn't be so hard. I think I am pretty easy to get along with. I hope that people will stop trying to change my mind about homeschooling. Will stop giving me advice on how to raise and school my kids. Worry about what you are doing or not doing. I have enough to deal with thanks. Don't need you making me feel bad and second guessing my decisions. Support me. If you don't that's ok. But then you need to shut the AY-EFF up. You are not the one homeschooling so it really isn't any of your damn business. I know I cannot protect my kids from everything forever, but I can shield them from the nastier things for a little bit longer. Because they are still children and should be allowed to enjoy it for as long as they can. Without fear. Without danger. Without horrible things being said to them. Without threats. Because they are 11 and 8. And I want them to enjoy being 11 and 8 and then 12 and 9 and so on until they are old enough to tell me they are ready. I know it will come and I want them to be as equipped to deal with the ugly as much as they can. it will come soon enough, but until then...they can be kids and revel in every dirty, sweaty, wormy, buggy, tree climbing, ball throwing, bike riding, lego building second.
~namaste~
Jen

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