Listen

Denise is always insisting none of us listen to her. She insists she will tell us something, and we forget because we are not listening. This, of course, is  not true. I forget because I cannot hold even the most important information in my head longer then 30.2 seconds. That is why I am always asking her what she said, or forgetting she said something would happen.
I feel badly because I know she feels this way, but I don't know what I can do about it. 

Tasha tells everything. When she arrives home from school, it is time to get ready for the 3:40 news from Drayton Hall Elementary and playground. She has been on the morning news (at school) a few times: I understand why. She and her friend Gabby take turns giving Denise and /or I their respective rundowns.

A few years ago Tasha was talking to her mom and I overheard say: "Nanny doesn't really listen so I am telling you", the statement took me back and I found myself very embarrassed. Not because she was right, she was. But because I didn't realize when I tuned in and dropped out she noticed.  I was upset she noticed how disrespectful I had been to her.

If you don't listen to your kids they will confide in someone who does, or find something else to do.

This is true. If we don't listen to small things, how can they trust us with the big?
The Bible tells us God will not trust us with big things until we show ourselves faithful in the small things. In other words, if it is too hard to make it to church to worship him for an hour, how is he going to bless us when we pray to "save the world?"
Admit it. We do have grandiose plans for service Christ, but fail in the little things. Simple things such as listening to a child.

Its funny when you realize what you think is senseless chatter, is really the heart of child looking for trust and value. 
Do you trust me?
Do you think my world is important?
Yes we do.

If you don't listen to your spouse, they will find someone who will.
Listening is a small way to value a relationship. 
I vividly remember when my husband would come home from work, grab a drink and pull a chair up the the kitchen bar. His sole purpose to share his day and find out about mine. I didn't value this at the time. I didn't realize the connection and how important this sharing was to him.

If you don't listen to your friends, well how important is that friendship?
I have a friend, who has been dear to me for more years then I care to count. Our kids literally grew up together. She taught me about listening. I can think of about three times over the year she has confessed to being to busy to talk to me. She listens without response and answers me only when I ask her to respond to  questions.

Some people, I know, listen to respond. in other words, they are listening not to you, but formulating in their minds their answer to you. I wonder how they can actually listen if they are preparing an answer? they can't.

Do you listen?

roverbs 1:5 

A wise man will hear, and will increase learning; and a man of understanding shall attain unto wise counsels:

Do I have to Give Candy?

Dear Prudence,
I live in one of the wealthiest neighborhoods in the country, but on one of the more “modest” streets—mostly doctors and lawyers and family business owners. (A few blocks away are billionaires, families with famous last names, media moguls, etc.) I have noticed that on Halloween, what seems like 75 percent of the trick-or-treaters are clearly not from this neighborhood. Kids arrive in overflowing cars from less fortunate areas. I feel this is inappropriate. Halloween isn’t a social service or a charity in which I have to buy candy for less fortunate children. Obviously, this makes me feel like a terrible person, because what is the big deal about making less fortunate kids happy on a holiday. But it just bugs me, because we already pay more than enough taxes toward actual social services. Should Halloween be a neighborhood activity, or is it legitimately a free-for-all in which people hunt down the best candy grounds for their kids?

—Halloween for the 99 Percent

Last year a woman was so worried about poor, overweight children, she took it upon herself to decide which kids got candy and which she would give fruit or water. I guess she felt it was her duty to get these kids in shape. In one way, it was a noble effort. However, in other ways: it was wrong on so many levels.

First, let me tell you women, I am sure the poor kids all over America were happy you cared.

When I was a child, growing up in Palo Alto, California (not your typically poor area, believe me) I went trick or treating with the kids in my neighborhood. We would walk all over the city, ring the doorbell and shout trick or treat to whomever answered the door.

Now if you do not know about Palo Alto, it is full of Stanford University professors, lawyers, executives from Hewlett –Packard and IBM.

Now, the kids in my neighborhood? We were not the kids of those people; we were the kids of the people who worked for those people. Still no one said anything when we knocked on the door; they just dumped candy in our bags and smiled. Were rich people nicer then?

Being rich is hard. People are always asking for things.

I actually feel sorry for the writer, she says, I know I should feel like a bad person…but-

I hate to tell you, that Reese’s’ is not going to do anything but give a child a few minutes of joy: Did you think perhaps they live in neighbors where candy is a high commodity? Rent and food take priority.

In addition, you know what?  Giving the kids fruit and water because you have decided they are overweight will just hurt their psyche, and perhaps they will develop issues.

Seriously, though, I would like to thank both of you for your concern for these children. It shines right through.

For the little girl whose mom drives her over to your neighborhood, because her own is full of gangs, and drive byes…she can relax a little in your neighborhood. Luckily, her mom does not know about you, miss 99 percent.

For the little boy that had health problems, and cannot lose weight because his diet is cheap foods, rice, potatoes, his mom cannot afford the green leafy veggies that would so help his problem.

Let us kook in your own neighborhood:

How about the three year old dressed to go out to trick or treat and her mother’s boyfriend beat her to death. Because in her excitement she soiled her pants

Luckily, she is not coming to your door. You can save the candy.

If I had a chance to speak to both of you women, I would tell you this:

Kids should not hurt. Not ever. Not by words, not by hitting…not by anything

Adults should not be the cause of their pain. Lock your door, leave town, turn your light off You don’t have to give out candy …As a matter of fact spare the kids your contempt, go watch a movie.Now, go put your brooms away.

Dear 99,
In the urban neighborhood where I used to live, families who were not from the immediate area would come in fairly large groups to trick-or-treat on our streets, which were safe, well-lit, and full of people overstocked with candy. It was delightful to see the little mermaids, spider-men, ghosts, and the occasional axe murderer excitedly run up and down our front steps, having the time of their lives. So we’d spend an extra $20 to make sure we had enough candy for kids who weren’t as fortunate as ours. There you are, 99, on the impoverished side of Greenwich or Beverly Hills, with the other struggling lawyers, doctors, and business owners. Your whine makes me kind of wish that people from the actual poor side of town come this year not with scary costumes but with real pitchforks. Stop being callous and miserly and go to Costco, you cheapskate, and get enough candy to fill the bags of the kids who come one day a year to marvel at how the 1 percent live.

—Prudie

Amen.

Credit for the letter goes to Dear Prudence publication date Oct.23, 2014 Slate mag.

Tasha and The Bullly: Isn't the school bus supposed to be safe?

Tasha got off the bus crying earlier this week, much to our shock and chagrin. It seems some children on the bus were calling  her names, and one child hit her in the head.

Two of  the kids were kindergarten, one was a second grader. A second grader picking on a kindergartner? What in the world???
 Well. I don't know what those kids thought they were doing, but what they actually did was as Yamato  said at the end of the bombing of Pearl Harbor..was" wake up a sleeping giant and filled it with a terrible resolve". The giant in  that case of course was America, in this case was her me.

Don't get me wrong, her mom was pretty upset herself, but her Nanny was livid.  Who should have to worry about having their world rocked at 6 years old.

Denise went to the school and talked to the principal, I spoke to the bus driver and we got Tasha calmed down pretty well. But No Child should have to deal with this. Children are supposed to be safe at school and on the bus, right?

Wrong.

1 in 7 Students in Grades K-12 is either a bully or a victim of bullying.

- 56% of students have personally witnessed some type of bullying at school.

- 15% of all school absenteeism is directly related to fears of being bullied at school.

- 71% of students report incidents of bullying as a problem at their school.

- 1 out of 20 students has seen a student with a gun at school.

- 282,000 students are physically attacked in secondary schools each month.

Statistics courtesy of  Make a sound for a voice unheard

The majority of bullied children do not tell their parents or teachers for fer of retribution. 

? 

This proved true with Tasha by the shear fact that the child walked into the principals office and Tasha was so unnerved she burst into tears and became confused. Just like witnesses on TV who are bullied into being quiet for fear of their life. Evil has come to the second grade. 

We can do something though. Bullies shouldn't win. and sometimes they don't. Sometimes a bullied child will be so fed up he will come to school with a gun and everyone loses. Do we think this is a small issue

What can we do?

Teach your child how to defend his or her against bulling Violence begets violence, although it is a good way to win a war it is not the best way to stop bullying. 

• Bullies are cowards. They pick on children smaller then them and more vulnerable. they mostly pick on a child who is a loner, so no one else can see therefore report the altercation. The more people you know, the less chance you will be a target. 
• Tell some one, if you tell one grownup and they don't do anything, tell someone else. Someone will step up to the plate
• If it feels safe, stand up to the bully. Tell them to Stop!, I don't like that, and walk away. ALWAYS tell a grownup. If the bully thinks you won't do anything, the more chances there are of his continued bullying. 

Bullying is not a rite of passage, it is not something where your child has to buck up and handle it. The leading cause of death for children under the age of 14 is suicide, and that death is caused by the loneliness, fear and isolation they felt from someone who was bullying them. 

Have a talk with your child, make sure they are safe. 

resources

School memories Bullies and freedom

When you think of childhood, you want to remember days of playing in the grass, swimming, climbing tress and paying with friends. I remember playing in the street until  10 11 at night during the summer. But my childhood was marred by the worst interruption a person can have. that is being assaulted by bullies.
When I was a child, it wasn't that big of a thing. Your parents told you to suck it up, you tried. the bullying continued until the bully moved on to his next prey.
I could take it.  Well, I could until I was in six grade.

In six grade There was a Chinese girl call Ann Cho pronounced "choo". She came in mid year.  Ann was tiny, skinny and barely spoke English, I don't remember why she was here, perhaps her father or mother taught at Stanford. The majority of the kids in my school had parents who were either professors, or big wigs at Hewlett-Packard the two industries of our town.

My Bully, declared me boring at this point, ,. shook the dust off his feet  and turned on Ann. I pretty much took a backseat, a quick sigh of relief and prayed he would never turn on me again.  I prepared to go on with my life bully free.
And that may well have happened.  But, when you have been the target of a bully, you understand the whole picture. I had spent 4,5 and most of 6th grade being his target. I knew the damage he could do. the hurt and humiliation he could produce, worse then that..the tremendous feeling of helplessness.

My favorite game in sixth grade was tether-ball. I could knock that ball around the pole with one swat of my fists. The force no doubt came from pent up anger, at least that is what you will say these days. But then, I just knew I could hit the ball and felt a lot better after I did it. I played all recess by myself.

The row of tether ball   poles lined the end of the playground and was the last line of defense before the grassy area where such games as stick ball, football and other games that got me laughed and snicked at because I was so clumsy. I viewed that area as enemy terrority.

This day though,  a few feet away I heard The ugly voice of my former bully and felt pangs of memories from my days at his hands.  This was different. I heard " ANNN choo"..making the sound of sneezing..."How does it feel to be a sneeze"  "Ahhh Cho choo choo  Train, that's it she is a train whistle, no she is full of snot because she is a sneeze."....the other kids laughed...."chink ching"

Why do the other kids laugh at his behavior? Simply because they hope or are secretly happy it is not them?

But over the laughing, over the cruel words I heard whimpering, the the distinct sound of quiet crying. For the first time I noticed Ann, Unlike me, who stood and took the words my mind elsewhere in a safe place;
she was sitting on the ground, her arms wrapped tightly around her legs, pulling her knees close to her chest. Tears  silently coarseing  down her checks. Something came over me, to this day I do not know what; No was was more terrified of this bully then me. Her little body racked with sobs. I remember she was wearing a white dress and short white jackets, and had them pulled tightly to her in hopes of protection. She was at the point where she had long give up looking around the circle for a friend. By now, she knew the weren't any.

Before I talked myself out of it, I  drew both hands into a fist and double hit the ball sending it sailing towards the sky with the force of my hit it looked like it was headed for the sun. I  took a deep breath, sailed over to my bully drew back and decked him.
Yep. Right in the nose. Then  told him in no uncertain terms to stop picking on Ann or he could expect more.
Out of the corner of my eyes I saw the sassy twins (the popular girls) Sheila and Sharon take off towards the teacher, and the rest of the class stood their silently as I helped Ann up, and she looked at me in pure wonder. So was everyone else eyeing me in the same manner. No one stood up to Bruce before, well you just didn't.
Bruce's nose wasn't broken, but his pride was. I got suspended from school because it is OK to bully with words, but not with your hands. I guess in those days no one understood mental anguish.

It's funny that after that day I don't remember much about Ann, or what went on with her in class. I continued to be a loner, just like today and my life went on as normal. Well almost. Every time I saw my bully, he was now Bruce not Bully and  he was actually nice to me.
I wish I could say I cured him of his bullying, but I didn't. He continued on with other kids; just not in front of me. I lived in a Bully free zone. Wekk until 8th grade. but that is another story.


Got more information on Bullies




.

Milestones

Tasha is five. She lets you know this too, Should I make the mistake of calling her a little girl, she lets me know how off base I truly am. "I'm FIVE" Nanny," she remarks indignantly "I am not a little girl" So shes not. I think she is not. She is going to school in a few weeks. She is excited about things like losing her first tooth. Meeting new kids and being terribly grown up.

It is toxic to watch the animation and sad to know there isn't any going back. They grow up and up from her. The days of Yo Gabba Gabba, and princesses which all seem so frightfully reductive now; will go away. Some day on the whisper of a child dancing through the house singing "Rise and Shine and Give God the Glory Glory," or" Free Fallin" will pass.

Tasha new hobby is checking the Nick Jr website to see what is coming on next. "See Nanny," she will say pointing at the computer screen. "Dino Dan is next," and she will bounce off the computer chair and run to the TV to confirm the  computer and website are quite correct. And usually it is.Sometimes it is not. Then her world is shattered and we have to put it back together again. The computer is always supposed to be correct, isn't it.

No, It's not.

And other things in her life that are not fair and predictable are about to happen.

I hope we prepared her for the real world.

I hope she makes lots and lots of friends

I hope no chld is mean to her, i woud hate to have to beat up their parents.:)

Mostly I hope nothing steals her childhood. I hope she enjoys every single minute of it.

I wish her happiness

sitting back waiting for the next milestone

things your kids DIDN'T learn in school

A little snippet of fun, but necessary if you are going to succeed. This is usually atrubuted to Bill Gates but the actual 11 things were written by
Charles J. Sykes in his book Dumbing Down out Kids. the book was written in 1996, But the net gives Bill credit so we’ll include him here.after all, the information you find on the net is correct, isn’t it? Well, isn’t it? Of course not. That is why the Gurus need Virtual Assistants.

Rule 1: Life is not fair – get used to it!

Rule 2: The world doesn’t care about your self-esteem. The world will expect you to accomplish something BEFORE you feel good about yourself.

Rule 3: You will NOT make $60,000 a year right out of high school. You won’t be a vice-president with a car phone until you earn both.

Rule 4: If you think your teacher is tough, wait till you get a boss.

Rule 5: Flipping burgers is not beneath your dignity. Your Grandparents had a different word for burger flipping: they called it opportunity.

Rule 6: If you mess up, it’s not your parents’ fault, so don’t whine about your mistakes, learn from them.

Rule 7: Before you were born, your parents weren’t as boring as they are now. They got that way from paying your bills, cleaning your clothes and listening to you talk about how cool you thought you were. So before you save the rain forest from the parasites of your parent’s generation, try delousing the closet in your own room.

Rule 8: Your school may have done away with winners and losers, but life HAS NOT. In some schools, they have abolished failing grades and they’ll give you as MANY TIMES as you want to get the right answer. This doesn’t bear the slightest resemblance to ANYTHING in real life.

Rule 9: Life is not divided into semesters. You don’t get summers off and very few employers are interested in helping you FIND YOURSELF. Do that on your own time.

Rule 10: Television is NOT real life. In real life people actually have to leave the coffee shop and go to jobs.

Rule 11: Be nice to nerds. Chances are you’ll end up working for o

Tasha and the Mountian

Everyone was gone this afternoon, so Tasha and I were having dinner alone. Tasha ia a great conversationalist. Her mom recently brought her a new WII (Well, I am not sure if the WII was for Tasha or mom and Uncle Eric)
Anyway, she spends hours playing it She will forget to eat, forget everything just so she can bowl.

She is very good at too. She actually beat Uncle Eric by Three points one day.

Back to today. Today we were having dinner, she had been upstairs playing a game about mountain climbing, so in the middle of chatting about normal everyday 4 year old things, she brok e in and told me:
"Nanny the people on the mountain went to jail,?"
Startled, I look up and said "What people?"
The people on the mountain.
What were you watching?
She signed the heavy sighof a 4 year old who is totally misunderstood by  in her life, and patiently explained to me she was not watching TV, she was playing a game.

Ohhhhh. Silly Me.

She went on to tell me a story of two people who went to the top of the mountain, and fell down. the police came and took them to jail.

I stopped her. "Jail Why?"

Because, she sign tiredly, they didn't follow directions, that why they fell.

Okay, make sense.

 The gist of the story was the boys fell down the mountain , then they went to jail because they did not follow directions. Her imaginary friend got them out of the, the policeman gave them all candy int he end.

"What did you do after, theat?" I asked her
"I went home,. I was tired

Did you go to bed?

No, I had Cake.

then she was up and off on another track.

Werewolves, almost 4 years olds and the best blog award goes to.....

We monitor Tasha's TV viewing very carefully, but made an error yesterday. While we weren't looking, Tasha saw a program that scared her.
Of all places on the Disney channel. She kept her mom up all night, keeps peeking around doors and is afraid to go outside.

Werewolves are, (I think) make believe creatures, but aparently on "the Wizards of Waverly Place" one of the kids turned into a werewolf and this made an impression on Tasha.

Now I have to tell you, This is a child who will sit for hours watching her mom there play World of Warcraft, and that worried me. I was sure those monster would follow her, but no. didn't bother her at all.

It is hard to understand what goes on in a child's mind, I think it was because she saw what she perceived to be a men change into a wolf.

I wonder at the marvel that goes on in a childs mind, the wonderful discovery of new things and scary. How do they tell the difference?

How can she know that the game is make believe and the TV to her is not?

I have spent all day convincing her or trying to, that werewolves are imagination. But it is so stuck in her mind,m I had to go to the potty with her she was afraid it would come after her.

When I noticed it was scaring her, I turned it off, I wonder if I had let it play to the end and she had seen what happened to the wolf if it would have been all right?

Then maybe not.

I hate seeing a child hurt or injured, but scared and we can't take the fear away boggles my mind.

What would you do?

Envelope Please!

A while back I got this award form "living alone in the Holy Land" a great blog within itself, and one I wouldn't even put myself in league with...bu she likes my blog..YEA!

So now it is time to pass it on. There are so many blogs I enjoy, not all mommy bloggers as they are called. When I first started blogging, I didn't think I had a spot. I wasn't a mommy, I wasn't at that time and entreprenuer, I just didn't fit anywhere...but I found my niche and Amanda Short was one of the reasons. 

Family of Shorts is a great blog, I read her first and joined a couple of her meme's simply because she is a great person to be linked to. 

So Shortmama..thanks for all you do...and hats off to you...

Small talk six: ^ of your most vivid childhood memories

Small Talk Six six vivid childhood memories. I didn't have a vivid childhood, so this will be a little hard for me but I will try.

1. I remember going to my first Renaissance faire ( I was big into this stuff)

It was a camping trip, you have to be dressed in period costumes, and just try to go to a outhouse in a 1600 costume. I remember my dress was copied from Queen Mary of Scotland, many many petticoats and a truss. I was 14.

Later I changed to Civil War Reenactments, clothes were easier.

I remember Elementary school graduation, a boy I had liked forever asked me to sit with him at the movies, I was so excited I had a Asthma attack. right there. He never asked me again, luckily we went to different Juniot high

s.

I remember when we first moved to California, I couldn't believe how big everthing was. everyone teased me about my accent, coming from a little southern town it was hard to navigate the streets, and all the traffic.

My first communion, I was 12,  I was catholic got to wear a white dress with a veil, I got my own lttle missal,  a white bracelet and necklace. I walked importantly  down the center  aisle of the church,  tripped, fell and reached out to catch the the girl in front of me to stop my fall. knocked her off balance and she sat there sobbing in front of allllll the people. While I stood there holding her veil in my very embarrassed hands

I am now a baptist.  :)

Going on a school field to a mission San Juan Batista, being sooo impressed with the mission it was gorgeous, I came home in wonder that I didn't have any mishaps. Tripped getting off the school bus.

Again when I was 12, teasing my brother and his girlfriend until he got so mad he locked me in the basement, and forgot me. My other brother came looking for me for dinner and I was sitting on the basement stairs crying because I thought I was going to be down there forever.

See? Very Boring Childhood.

The month of November is going to be busy

Well, since I don't have anything else to do, I joioned the NaNoWrMo group above to write a novel, 50,000 words in i month the month of November. I have a plot that has been in my head for years, getting it on paper has always been the difficult issue, so this month I am going to do it.
Now it would seem easy enough, except I am also doing Hubpags 30 hubs in 30 days challege as well as my usual faith writers weekly contest..so in between I am going to sleep and cook Thanksgiving dinner. Go figure.  When I do I over do.

Thanksgiving is this month, so on top of everything i think I have to cook. How can I getout of that?

I have been thinking about Thanksgiving a lot of thought this year, I have a lot to be thankful for. The least being I am fairly healthy, there have been many years that has not been a fact.

We get ourselves in a rut, of thinking how bad things are, and suddenly they get worse. We want God to work things out our way, and nothing seems right to us if they are worked out his way, because we want our way.

My life has changed over the years, in ways I didn't expect. I waited everyday for years to be prepared for Sharon's last day, before the surgery the doctors kept telling us it was only a matter of time..then she had the surgery and was supposed to live...but God called her home only two weeks later. Why? I don't know, it seem like a colossal joke he played on me, I couldn't figure it out for years, and years later after cancer, a seperation from my kids, other catastrophes in my life, I realized it wasn't a joke but something I walked through to help othe parents who lost their children, other women with breast cancer, other abused children, i have answers many others don't.....because I have been there.

So the next time you are going thorough something, and praying God to release youf rom it remeber some days, you just have to go through it, becuse what He has on the other side is more wonderful then you can imagine.

Also, others will need you to walk them through it, and helping someone else, is truly a joy.

And so it goes
Angel

Wodless Wednesday, A day at the Park

It's fall in Charleston, as you can see the whole city has a haze over it. the clear summer days has passed, but still, its Charleston. History mixes with a day in the park.

What a great City we live in.

Children, Tantums, and Natasha

One of my kids shared an incident with me a while back. They told me about a time they were scribbling on a piece of paper pretending they were doing "cursive" we called it in those days.

They ran up and showed it to their Dad, who shot them down with a word: that's not cursive, that's just scribbling. they were devastated and still 24 years later remember and hear the words as if it were today.

I didn't remember the incident, but got as angry at there dad today, as if I had been then, had I known I probably would have popped him on the head. I had to do that a lot with him. Sensitive was not his forte and kids also were not, Although he loved his kids, he hadn't any idea how to handle them.

I know he didn't mean it, but it was so hurtful that the child remembers it today.

Tasha has had what I call a Brat day. She has whined, and cried, and shouted MINE MINE so many times I have almost taken every toy, book, blanket and item of clothing she owns away from her. Well not really, but she has had a day. I tell her on these days she is acting like Stingy on Lazy Town. She pouts at that she doesn't like Stingy, and knows he is not a nice person.

I had a flashback for a few minutes, I was picking up Eric and on his way home he decided he wanted Taco Bell, and of course brought Tasha a Taco,Which was left in the bag while he munched on his nachos. Tasha ungraciously told him not to eat HER taco, in such a rude manner I thought it was another child was in the back seat. I just looked at her, and took in the tired cranky look and started to scold her a little, Eric intervined, explained to her he wouldn't eat her Taco but it wasn't hers yet it was a gift and he hadn't given it to her yet. He was careful to be kind. Good for him. Because what she really needed was a swat.

Kids go through all kinds of stages, and at the age of "almost 4" the brat stage is pretty common. I am glad Eric remembered she was only 3 1/2.

I saw a parent in the grocery store the other day, apparently her child was having a brat day as well. She was trying to crawl out of the basket, throwing a total fit. How that mom remained calm, I don't know but when he was settled and stopped, the mom said in a low voice, "You know whats going to happen when we get home, right?"

The child sniffing looked up and said a spanking? she nodded yep. a good one.

I had to smile, but the child knew his consequences,and that's a plus. The mom kept her cool. I liked that, however, I don't want to be at her house or any where near when they get home.

I started this because I was thinking about Lavender during all of these little episodes. What could she had done so horribly that her mother would beat her to death?

Tasha can throw a fit mind you,, she can scream, yell, kick hollar with the best of them (I just don't take pictures on those days maybe someday I should) but we just wait her out. I have a naughty chair she hates, that I put her in.

After on such exhausting episode Eric told me, I can really understand child abuse, then he laughed and said not really.

But really. On some days you can understand how a parent can get to the point, but jumping off is what I don't understand. I'd cut off my hand before hurting my, or anyone elses child.

Speaking of Walmart, when I worked there I say a mother terribly deriding her child, yelling calling him names, really threatening her life. I grabbed another associate and walked over to her offered her a cup of coffee in the break room. While the other associate watched the child.

After she calmed down, mom and son were reunited, but with the added advantage of knowing how she looked to people. She left apologizing and contrite. I wasn't trying o humiliate her I just wanted her to calm down, but she went to the store manager a week later and told her, she had started getting help. She just didn't realize she was out of control.

Can we all help an out of control mom? Maybe that's the key. Maybe that would have saved Lavender. Maybe we should not turn our heads and hope things will be ok. Do you know an overwhelmed mother?

And do it goes...

Angel

Small Talk Six The daze of Summer

Its Saturday! so it is "Small talk Six day, that is we post six things, pics, sentences, paragraphs, what evever about a certain Topics.

Todays it is six things you will or will not miss about summer...are you kidding? I live in Charleston SC I can give you 106, but I will behave.. Go here and see more from other great bloggers who are probably, although they won't tell, breathing a sigh of relief as they push the young'uns back on that old bus

BTW, what did you do this summer?

You have a wonderful weekend

Angel