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Reacting when children make mistakes

01 Sunday Jan 2023

Posted by webbywriter1 in families, FRIENDSHIP, kids

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Recently I was out to a Christmas lights festival with a younger friend and her four year old son. We all wanted snacks so we found a snack cafe that was serving hot cocoa and pastries. It was night and cold, so the cocoa looked good. She ordered one for her son and set it on the table.

Because I wasn’t thinking small child and reacting quickly enough, naturally when he picked up the full, adult sized cup of cocoa, he dropped in on the floor. We both rushed to clean him up and the spilled cocoa. I went and got another cup, poured out half and told the boy to always use two hands.

Unfortunately, the mother was highly embarrassed by what had happened and kept characterizing it as him throwing the cocoa down. Too bad.

Her sense of identity is too wrapped up in this child and his every little movement is perceived as a reflection on her. Not.

Here is a good article on dealing with childhood mistakes. (Even in public!!!!)

https://sleepingshouldbeeasy.com/when-your-child-makes-a-mistake/Nina V. Garcia

1. Consider whether the mistake was an accident

How often do you get frustrated when your child stains her nice shirt with jelly or drops her plate of dinner all over the kitchen floor? If you’re like me, you’ve lost your temper at some point.

But ask yourself whether the mistake was an accident—usually the answer is yes. Rarely do kids make mistakes on purpose. She may have spilled all the cereal out of the box and onto the counter, but she was likely just trying to be more independent and serve herself breakfast.

Reminding yourself that the mistake was an accident helps put the situation in perspective. We all make our own mistakes. How often have we gotten frustrated at our kids for spilling a cup of water, only to do the same thing ourselves?

2. Thank your child

When your child admits to making a mistake, thank him for telling you. Yup, before you even discipline, thank him for letting you know what happened.

Maybe he was rough housing in the living room and ended up pushing his brother too hard, or didn’t clean his toys like he said he did. Before telling him to be more careful or to not do that, thank him for telling you the truth.

He’ll feel like she can tell you anything, even when he’s in trouble or needs help. He should be able to tell you both good and bad parts of his day, including when he makes a mistake. Otherwise, he might develop a fear of failure, or that his bad choices define who he is.

In fact, thank him when he…

  • tells you about the mistake
  • admits his part in the mistake
  • helps clean up or resolve the mistake
  • apologizes for the mistake

He needs to know that being honest with his parents is more important than hiding things and getting into more trouble.

3. Embrace mistakes as learning moments

Common childhood mistakes make for awesome teachers. When your child makes mistakes, don’t make her feel ashamed for doing so. Making poor decisions can be healthy and helpful—they help her learn what to do and not do in the future. Mistakes are an inevitable part of life that we can make the most of.

Rather than reprimand her, help her sort through her emotions and allow her to learn from her mistakes. She’ll know you have faith in her ability to try, fail, and eventually learn and succeed.

Making mistakes helps her develop the coping mechanisms for managing frustration, anxiety, and guilt. She’ll build resilience and develop a growth mindset and the emotional skills to decide how to make the situation better.

Read more about how to help your child embrace mistakes.

4. Prevent common mistakes

Though mistakes are inevitable, you can also prevent many of them from happening in the first place. Child-proof your home, or set valuables out of reach. Pull the kids apart when they’re starting to play too rough, and guide them toward more appropriate activities.

In my case, I could’ve moved the cups of water away from the dining table when my kids were goofing around, or communicated clearly when I told them to stop. Kids can make mistakes because we didn’t take the precautions to avoid them.

Conclusion

Mistakes are inevitable, there’s no doubt about that. And how you respond is just as important as addressing your child’s mistake in the first place.

To start, see if the mistake was an accident or not. Often the impulse isn’t to be mischievous but a simple mishap. Thank her for admitting her mistakes, especially when she could’ve withheld it from you out of fear of getting into trouble.

_______________________________________________________________________________\

Years ago, when I was working for the big, bad insurance company, I realized that I had made a mistake on one of my files. It was bad but not necessarily irrideemable. At this moment in time, I can’t even remember what it was I did. However, I do remember that my first impulse was to hide the file and attempt to hide the mistake. I had to talk to myself about it for three days. Finally, hat in hand, and knowing this could be a career ender, I picked up the file and walked it over to the litigation super to talk it out. He was a little surprised, but glossed it over and I went back to my desk. A huge weight was lifted from my shoulders.

The lesson was reinforced again for the umpteenth time, the price of hiding the mistake was far greater than just admitting the mistake and walking through it. It is a lesson I have had to learn and relearn.

cew

Elu’s Story – Conclusion

29 Thursday Dec 2022

Posted by webbywriter1 in Book Sales: Amazon.com/Kindle Books, families, kids, marriage, Native Americans, romance

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The body in the water stirred as little eddies and currents flowed in and out. A grey coyote came cautiously down to the water’s edge. He got closer, jerking away each time the body moved. The coyote stood still a moment, when there was no further movement, it moved closer and sniffed the thing. The animal stepped back, its golden/brown eyes bright in the nighttime light. Moving away, it drank some water, retreated and paused again. Lifting its head, it howled into the night. A frog croaked and jumped into the stream, a night bird squawked, and the coyote slunk into the night. The body continued to float.

In the soft night air there was a slight movement, a glimmering. A grey shadow, almost diaphanous in nature appeared and seemed to float above the water. The form moved slowly, and approached Elu, still face up in the water. The figure was in a loose cloak that went to the ground and had long sleeves. A hood was up over the head. A passerby would not have been able to see the face, if they would even have noticed what appeared to be no more than another shadow.

The figure was above Elu and bent over. One knobby old finger extended out of the cloak and touched Elu on the face. The finger pushed into her cheek. Further and further the finger pushed until it seemed to disappear under her skin. The shadow spoke. “Awake, Elu, awake.” The finger pulled away from her skin and the figure paused in the air. The Ghost of Sabino Canyon had spoken.

Elu tossed her head back and forth feebly and then suddenly, her eyes popped open. She tried to focus. She thought she saw something, a shadow, something leaning over her but then it disappeared. Was she dreaming? She could hear voices.

“She might be in the water down here,” she heard the deep voice of a man talking, shouting to others. “The water could have moved her.” There were voices of other people in the background.

“I’m here,” she croaked, but the sound was so low. She paused to take a breath, then leaning back with all her strength she yelled, “Here.”

There was a crashing through the brush and big hands grabbed her. “She’s here. Get the paramedics, she’s hurt!” the man shouted to others.

Elu closed her eyes again and sighed into the water.

“Where’s the boyfriend?”

“He’s still talking to the cops.”

“I bet,” said another.

Soon big men were around her and were shoving a long board under her body. She was strapped to the board and lifted up. There were bright lights and she had to clamp her eyes shut. She was jostled up the short hill until the men got to an ambulance. The board was lifted and gently pushed onto a rack in the vehicle.  More hands were laying warm blankets over her body. She felt a needle pushed into her arm. The ambulance siren went on and the vehicle turned and went down the hill. Elu passed out again.

She didn’t know how long she was out. When she came to she was lying in a bed, in a hospital obviously as she was in hospital pajamas and covered with several blankets. The light in the room was dim. She was hooked up to IV’s and other machines. The machines beeped quietly in the background. It was like a warm cocoon. There was someone sitting by her bed. She turned her head a little, not much, because it hurt so much.

It was Elena. “Ma.” Elu rasped out.

Her mother stood up suddenly and grabbed her hand. “Elu, you’re alive. Oh, thank God.” Her mother started crying.

“What happened?” Elu asked. “I was standing on the bridge, and then I fell in…”

“You fell off the bridge and hit your head. The water carried you away. Sebastian got help. Search and Rescue found you. You’ve been in the hospital since.”

“How long?”

“Three days,” her mother answered.

“Three…how is little Sally? Mom, tell me she’s okay.”

“She’s fine darling,” her mother patted her arm. “Daniel is at your place and he is watching her. I think they are both having a good time.”

“But his job at the school…”

“It’s okay, Elu. The astronomy department can live without him a few days. Those stars aren’t going anywhere.”

A sense of relief swept over Elu and she started to cry. Her mother grabbed a box of Kleenex and patted the tears.

“Mom, the strangest thing happened…”

Her mother looked at her.

“I saw something out there…”

“What?”

“I don’t know for sure. Maybe like a person, but not a person, more like a shadow.”

“Well, you did hit your head pretty hard.”

“Yeah, I know,” Elu gingerly touched the top of her head, now covered in bandages. “But, I heard it. It spoke to me. I mean, not in words, I didn’t hear it hear it…”

Her mother looked confused.

“It…it touched my face and then I could hear it in my head.”

“What did it say?”

“It told me to wake up.” She turned and stared at her mother. Her mother stared back.

“Maybe…maybe you received a visitation.”

“A visitation?”

“Yes, it doesn’t happen very often and not to too many people.”

“What do you think it means, Ma?”

“Maybe you weren’t supposed to die.”

There was silence in the room. Neither spoke for a while, letting the information sink in.

“Sabastian?”

“The police have been asking that young man a lot of questions about the whole thing.”

“But he went to get help,” Elu reasoned.

“Yes, he did. But…I guess they are still not happy with his account of how things happened.”

“Hmm,” Elu laid back and closed her eyes. Her mother sat back down in her chair.

“I think I’m going to go to sleep again, Ma. I’m kind of tired.”

Her mother patted her hand again. “No problem, baby, no problem. You just get better.”

As Elu floated off to sleep again, she added a note to her mental list. No more visits with Sebastian, no more reconciliations and no more hiking. She was going to have to speak with that lawyer again.

Finis.

cew

Elu’s Story – Pt VIII

29 Thursday Dec 2022

Posted by webbywriter1 in Book Sales: Amazon.com/Kindle Books, dating, families, kids, marriage, Native Americans, romance

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The telephone rang several times. Elu had to sit down in the kitchen and hold tightly to her warm cup of tea. She was losing her nerve.

Finally the phone was answered and a woman with and older, almost cultured voice answered.

“Yes, hello, who is this?”

Elu could almost picture the old, silver haired battle-axe as Sebastian so often called her. This voice was soft, she almost sounded nice.

“Ah, yes, hello, Mrs. Van Houten. This is Elu Miller and I am…”

The woman stopped her. “I know who you are.” The voice sounded colder, more distant.

“I hate to call you this late, but…I… need…help.” She could not go on.

There was a silence on the other end of the phone. “Are you pregnant?” the older woman asked.

“Yes…yes…I think so.”

“Is the baby Sebastian’s?”

Elu stared at the phone. What? “Ah, yes ma’am it is. I mean, it is his.”

“You are sure?”

“Positive.”

Another pause. “Well, I suppose there are always tests….” The voice trailed off. “I suppose you need money for an abortion?”

Elu stared at the phone again. Where was this woman was coming from?

“No…No ma’am no abortion. I want to have the baby.”

The voice on the other end of the line seemed to lighten. “Well, in that guess. You have insurance, a doctor?”

“No…no ma’am. I don’t have any of those things.”

“Well, of course not,” the woman replied and Elu could hear Sebastian’s voice in his mother’s tone.

“Well then, what do you need?”

Elu went on to tell the older woman that she wanted to clean up, get to a regular doctor and have a healthy baby. The woman listened quietly without interrupting.

“Alright, Elu, is it? I can get thing arranged here. Not in Scottsdale of course, too many…oh, never mind. Another place, a little less expensive. You don’t want to go home to your people?”

“No…no,” Elu thought of her mother’s face. She couldn’t bear it. “No…somewhere else.”

Mrs. Van Houten took down her phone number. “I am sorry, I’ll have to get proof from a doctor’s office of the pregnancy, okay? And, sorry about this, but I may have to have them do a test to confirm Sebastian is actually the father. Any objections to that?”

“No, no. That would be okay. No problem.” Just get me out of this hellhole and out of New York. Clean up and have this baby and I’ll do whatever lady. At this point, I don’t give a shit.

“Fine, I will get in touch with you as soon as all of that is done.” There was a click and Mrs. Van Houten hung up.

Seems to run in the family, Elu thought to herself.

                        #

A week later, Elu had been to a clinic doctor, got the pregnancy report and had them fax a copy to the about to-be-grandmother. Once Mrs. Van Houten got the report, she got busy on the phone. Elu received a plane ticket to Tucson, AZ in a few days.

She packed up what would fit in several bags, explained the situation to Jan who seemed actually relieved. That night she got on a plane to Arizona. Sebastian kept sending her messages. Elu told Jan to get the locks changed right away and the roommate confirmed she would, immediately.

“I’ll take care of the super, don’t worry about him. I’ll just tell him that Sebastian is a psycho weightlifter who won’t take his meds. That should do it.” She smiled at Elu. “Just take care of yourself, okay, Hun? And that baby.”

Elu grabbed her friend, held her close and left. She had already gotten the gold locket back from the pawnbroker and exchanged it for a long sliver necklace with a little Kokopelli dancing at the bottom.

                        #

Elu checked into the clinic. They knew about the pregnancy already and she had to meet with the doctor the first day after she checked in. The doctor, to her surprise, was a woman.

They went through all the usual exams and then sat at a big desk. The doctor on one side, Elu on the other.

“The baby seems healthy and you seem relatively healthy. Nothing some sunshine, vitamins and good food can’t cure. When is the last time you had a drink or a drug? Please be truthful. I can’t help you otherwise.

Elu told her.

“Okay, we will give you a mild sedative…” Elu started.

“It won’t hurt the baby at all, you are not far along enough yet. It will keep your heart rate down, prevent any possible convulsions and stop any pre-mature labor. You don’t want to lose the child do you?’

Elu shook her head.

“Okay, will you will have a rough few days, but I think you’ll get through it fine.”

The days were rough but Elu did get through it. She stayed at the rehab for the next nine months and gave birth to a healthy 7.5 pound little girl. When they put baby Sally in her arms, she cried. The nurse cried, the doctor almost cried and Mrs. Van Houten in the waiting room, certainly cried.

The new grandmother found Elu and Sally a small apartment in town, and paid for everything. She gave Elu a small allowance so she could pay for a babysitter. Elu planned to go back to back as a grocery cashier, something she had done before and knew. The grandmother didn’t argue but just held the baby as if she were precious glass.

Elu got a job in a local discount store and had good hours. She could get to AA meetings on a regular basis, and still be home in time for the baby. One week end, Mrs. V H, as Elu now called her, was holding the baby and playing with a little rattle. The thing she dreaded came out.

Elu had allowed the tech to take a swab from little Sally for a paternity test. Mrs. V H still had things of Sebastian at home to compare it too, and as Elu predicted, the test was a match. He was the father. Elu breathed a sigh of relief. At least that was over. Plus, the baby was fair and looked a lot like him.

“Ah…Elu…I’ve been meaning to tell you.”

At her tone of voice, Elu stopped wiping the counter and looked up. Mrs. VH avoided her eyes. She jiggled the baby over to the window and looked out. The girl knew what was coming.

“I’ve heard from Sebastian….He knows about the baby…he wants to see her.”

Elu started wiping the counter again and said nothing.

“I mean, well…” the older woman paused, “he is the father.”

“And and a no good. You said it yourself. He was a rotten son, so bad you cut him out of your will. Remember that part?” Elu was starting to get angry.

“I know, I know. All those things are true. But what if he has changed?” She stared at Elu pleading in her eyes.

Elu knew instinctively the woman wanted so much for that to be true. To not only have a grandchild but have her son back. The prodigal. Back whole and wonderful like the kid and teen he used to be. Young, handsome, popular, tanned from playing tennis and soccer. A hit with the girls and the guys too. She wanted that Sebastian back. Elu did too but in her heart of heart she wasn’t sure she believed it.

Mrs. V H got her way and sent tickets to Sebastian. The plan was that he was to stay at his mother’s ranch and just drive down to see Elu and the baby. They did have their reunion and the old heartstrings were pulled by her old love. Unfortunately, the fire had not died.

Eventually, Sebastian got a job with an insurance broker in Phoenix so he could “make money and be closer” to Elu and the baby. He tried to get her to sleep with him many times, but she held her ground and refused, as difficult as it was. She suspected that he had given up and gotten himself another squeeze when he stopped trying so hard.

It was at one of their monthly lunches at Olive Garden that Elu got some surprising news from the woman she now called, at least in her mind, her mother-in-law. Mrs. VH wanted to be called Catherine, her first name. But, Elu was still too intimidated. The older woman accepted the Mrs. VH handle without further complaint.

“Elu, I wanted to tell you about something I have done. Something for the baby.” The baby was now over a year old and looked to be holding onto her father’s blue eyes, maybe just a touch darker, and dark blonde hair. The woman beamed at her granddaughter who was actually eating with a little spoon.

The woman cleared her throat. “I have put money aside for Sally. For when she is older and wants to go to college.”

Elu paused with her sandwich. “Why, Mrs. VH, that is so nice of you. Thanks very much. How much will it be?” She resumed eating and then sipped her coke.

There was a pause. “It’s a lot.”

Elu paused again. “Well, again, thank you. But what about Sebastian? I know he told me a while back you cut him off…”

“Yes, I did. For his own good. The drinking, drugging and wild parties….I can’t begin to tell you.” She stopped and frowned. “Well, maybe I can.” Her mouth puckered a little and she sipped her ice tea.

“Catherine,” Elu used the name for the first time, “I’m pretty sure he’s not using drugs anymore. Trust me, I would know. Please don’t ask me how. And, well, he’s just drinking alcohol now, nothing else.”

Catherine harrumphed. “Just alcohol is not saying much. That’s how all the sh–, stuff started anyway.” Her mouth was in a hard, thin line. “If his father ever knew…Oh, it’s too much. I can’t expect you to understand.”

Elu stared at her mother-in-law and decided to not get her feelings hurt.

“I do understand, I have a family too.”

Catherine picked up a napkin, held it over her face, and leaned over a moment. Then she put the napkin down, seemed to gather herself up and said. “Well, if he can prove to me long enough that he is gainfully employed and has his shit together, I will put him back in the will.”

“Oh, thank you,” Elu gushed. That would be so much better!” She smiled happily, Sally started to use the spoon to beat on her metal table to get attention and both women laughed.

As they were walking to the car, Elu held Sally’s hand because the little girl insisted on ‘walking myself!” and they paused by Catherine’s car.

As Catherine was getting ready to put the key in the door lock, she turned. “I should probably tell you how much the trust is. Just in case you get the paperwork and are surprised or think it’s a mistake or something.”

Elu calmly waited. She was thinking a few thousand dollars.

“One million.”

“What’s one million?” Elu asked.

“The trust, Elu, the trust. It’s for one million and starts to pay out when the baby turns eighteen. It will be administered by my lawyer’s office and an insurance company. It will come to her in chunks, as she gets older.

Elu stood there, mouth open, too stunned to speak.

“Come on girl,” the old lady said, ‘how did you think Sebastian could afford all those expensive toys of his?”

“I…I…”

“Don’t worry. The money won’t come around for a long time. She’s just a toddler now. She’ll have plenty of time to figure out how to spend it, and maybe you too. Oh, well, I’ll probably be gone by then so what do I care?”

Elu did something she never did. She hugged Catherine and cried, all at the same time.

Every six months, regular as clockwork, Sebastian proposed marriage to Elu. And, every six months, just as regular, she told him no. He had gotten to the point where he didn’t even put on the puppy eyes looks when she told him, rather, seemed to accept her refusals philosophically. Elu never told him about the trust as his mother advised her not to do so. She confirmed that Mrs. VH, also, would tell the new father nothing about the money. Elu knew that just as he kept after her for marriage, he kept after his mother to get back into her will. As far as she knew, the old lady was still holding out.

Sally was potty trained now and could go to a little pre-school around the corner. Elu had her mornings free and loved nothing better than to hit the trails and get in a short hike before she had to go to work. She loved seeing the giant saguaro, the other giant cactus on the trials. Weekends, she would take little Sally in a backpack and they would go. Her daughter loved it too. They saw wild boar from time to time; little yellow and white butterflies, cottonwood, ground squirrels and lots of other hikers.

The days were sunny and warm. Always the nosy one, Sebastian would talk on the phone to Elu and ask her what she was doing with her time. She gushed about the out of doors, the hikes, the places here where the Native Americans used to live. In the old days, before the reservations. She loved it. He told her he had started hiking too, around Phoenix ‘to get into shape’.

That was exactly how the two of them managed to be out on the tram trial on a fully moon lit night. One where the frogs croaked and the night birds cried and the water rushed down from the frosty mountain and was cold to the touch. Elu loved the paths and she loved this path. The canyon felt so old to her, comforting a familiar place. A native place for thousands of years before the white people came.

“Come on,” he told her, “You’ll love it. The neighbor will watch Sally. You need to get out and do stuff for yourself. Not work all the time.” So, she had agreed and the two of them were out together at night on this trail, usually so full of people, quite deserted this time of night. And, there she had been on the bridge. The cold, wet bridge with water rushing over the side. Close to the edge, somehow, somehow losing her footing and falling in the cold water, hitting her head.

When she was in the hospital, she slept a great deal. At first, she didn’t have any dreams and then they started. In one dream, she was sure she could hear a voice. A man’s voice, soft and low. Was that Sebastian’s voice? Maybe.

The voice came to her when she was in the water, it said in very low tones “You thought I didn’t know about the trust fund, didn’t you. You and she both, that old bitch, both thinking that pretty Sebastian was too stupid to figure it out. Well, I did figure it out and all by myself. Fuck both of you.” There was another push and the voice went away.

                                   

Continued

The Number Nine Bus

12 Monday Dec 2022

Posted by webbywriter1 in Book Sales: Amazon.com/Kindle Books, cutting, dating, Fiction, homelessnes, kids, money, romance, teenagers

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                                                      THE NUMBER NINE BUS

I rode my bike up to the bus stop and parked it neatly next to the trash bin and sat myself down on the blue metal bench. Checking my watch, I saw it was ten of six pm.

Okay then, by my calculations, the Number Nine should be here at 6:10 pm.  I have twenty minutes to wait. I can live with that. 

Then, I would mount my bike on the cow-catcher at the front of the bus and be mercifully whisked out of the heat and onto my shopping errand.

Home in time to watch the new Netflix movie and in bed at a decent hour.

I patted my pocket. There were several carefully placed dollar bills and quarters there in case any of the bills stuck in the bus changer. Patiently, I waited and pulled out my IPod and stuck in my ear buds for music.

Through my Raybans I saw them walking across the street, coming my way.

Oh, no. A guy and a girl? Yes, definitely a girl, she’s shorter. Little hard to tell with all the stuff they’re carrying.

Eventually they made it to the bus stop and I looked away into middle distance, not wanting to be part of their space. Sensing my discomfort, the girl sat down with her bag between us and the guy stood up. They were talking to each other but I couldn’t hear with the ear buds.

He said something to me and I had to pull the buds out.

“…bus?  The number nine bus?”

“Yes, yes. This is the number nine bus stop. It should be here any minute.” I said helpfully. I looked at my watch. As a matter of fact, it really should have already been here, it was 6:10pm.

“…you got your bracelet, from New Mexico?” The girl was speaking at me.

“No, not New Mexico,” I replied and kept staring off to the right, away from them.

“….mine it up in the hills there,” she was saying to me. I nodded my head, the buds back in place.

My natural nosiness took over and I looked at them. Both about twenty, they were a complete rag-tag band of assorted styles, genres, mixed clothing, backpacks, bags, hats, jewelry, tats and body piercing everywhere. He was kind of shaky and red in the face.

Is he kicking? Heroin? I thought to myself. Hard to say exactly.

I had to look carefully, there was a plastic baby doll leg pinned to the side of his pack. What was most noticeable was the big green ring he had in his nose. She had nose rings too, but smaller.

I am being kind of an ass, I thought, they’re just kids.

“The bus should be along any minute now. I think maybe it’s running late,” I volunteered.

“Oh, that always happens to us,” she told me and got up and gave the guy a long extended hug.

True love. I thought. Of course, poor and in love.

She came back and sat down again. I got up and stared down the street searching desperately for that bus.

“You guys looking for a shelter ’cause there’s a Salvation Army close by…”

“No, no, we have a place to go. We’re not really hobos…my husband and I just dress like this.”

She seemed very calm with their situation. Pretty face under all the hat, feather and jewelry. He was off staring for the bus too.

“I’m from Spokane,” she volunteered. “Did you know that Spokane and Fresno are the same size? Only Spokane has more people.” This girl seemed desperate to engage me in conversation for whatever reason.

“More rain too I’ll bet,” I ventured.

“Oh, lots more rain but crazy hot this time of year. You wouldn’t believe how hot and electrical storms, lots of electrical storms.”

“Fires?”

“Oh yeah, tons of fires, crazy.” She pulled and picked at her blond hair with bright orange polish fingernails. She wasn’t really looking at me but she didn’t seem bothered by me either.

“How are the buses in Spokane?”

“They are great! Every fifteen minutes and later every half hour,” she nodded her head with assurance.

“Well, the buses in Fresno suck,” I told her looking at my watch again. It was now almost 6:30pm.

 Where the hell it that bus? The mall is going to be closed. I have skin products to buy. Damn it! I need my Clinique.

“We’re going to his Dad’s and seeing about staying the night.” She didn’t seem sure about that.

“Where does he live?”

“Riverpark area,” the guy answered. He had put his backpack down. He suddenly jumped and started hitting the bag. Something flew out and landed. They both studied the ground.

“That’s the most beautiful beetle I ever saw,” she was staring at the little grey thing on the sidewalk.

Yeah, as long as it isn’t crawling around in your backpack.

“Don’t kill it,” she said to him. He was on the ground screwing with the bug, no doubt upset it had frightened him.

“I just don’t know about this bus,” I told them. “It should have been here by now. Don’t know if it’s Saturday schedule or what.” The guy looked concerned.

“Where you going again?” I directed my question to him.

“Riverpark down Blackstone. I remember ‘cause I lived there since I was two.”

I nodded and found the location on my IPod. “This it?” He bent over to look at the phone map but didn’t get too close.   

“Yeah, that’s the place.”

“That’s a beautiful ring!” she was looking at my white pearl and malachite pinkie ring. I knew she wanted to touch it but was careful to keep her hands to herself.

“His father is from Fresno?” I asked her.

“Yeah, Fresno.”

“Well, in that case, I would probably lose the nose rings for a few days.”

She got a disturbed look on her face, frowned and crossed her arms over her chest. It was then I noticed the healed cutting scars up and down her forearm. This girl clearly had some back story. And, probably not happy .

“You know,” she had put some thought in this, “Jesus Christ was persecuted and he wore clothes just like this. We dress like this so we will be persecuted too and still carry the message.”

“Ah,” I replied.

“I don’t change myself to please other people, only to please myself,” she concluded with some finality.

How about pleasing someone enough to get a place to sleep for the night? I didn’t say anything else, her mind seemed made up.  

“I don’t know about this bus,” I said again. It was ten of seven now.

The girl disappeared in to the car wash and came back.

“The Mexican guy says no more buses,” she told us.

Damn it to hell, the Mall is going to close and I’m never going to get my stuff! I almost stamped my feet in frustration.

I walked over to my bike. Maybe I could ride there and back before it got dark.

“Perhaps if you hitch a ride with a truck they can get you to Blackstone,” I ventured.

They weren’t really listening to me anymore.

“I’m thirsty,” she was telling him. He was practically gyrating in place trying to decide what to do.

Oh, well. Guess they’ll just have to take that whole 60’s Love Child, meets Fresno Red Neck and gets ink, rings, Jesus and hits the road becoming homeless on unknown drugs and figure it out.

I got back on my bike and rode toward the mall.

Roe vs Wade: The Worm Turns

28 Tuesday Jun 2022

Posted by webbywriter1 in dating, FRIENDSHIP, kids, marriage, romance, teenagers, Uncategorized

≈ Comments Off on Roe vs Wade: The Worm Turns

ROE VS WADE: THE WORM TURNS

Thirty years ago when I was pregnant I was very amazed at the responses, unexpected, that I received from any number of people. I learned that in pregnancy, somehow the whole world seems to own you.

Firstly, I got a referral to an OBGYN from the medical board and went in for a visit. After suffering for 30 minutes with an older male doctor cracking jokes about sex and older women, I had to go to the counter and speak to the nurse. I did that, got my brochures and was told that “pregnancy was a disease” and I needed to treat it like that. Shocked, I rapidly found another doctor.

I was getting my hair cut at an inexpensive salon. The young man cutting my hair told me he thought I was too old to have a baby. I should have reported him to his boss, instead I changed salons. At an outdoor gathering/barbeque with ‘friends”, a friend advised me that ‘she knew someone who could help me out of my problem.’ I looked at her like the Angel of Death and quickly moved away. In addition to that remark, other ‘friends’ (mostly male) worked hard to make me feel ashamed and embarrassed about my condition. Because I was 38 years old and not 18 years old; I was not embarrassed, I got angry, finally.

Recently, when that baby turned 30 and got married, I was again faced with some similar comments. The baby, now a young lady, was engaged to a fella who got a job offer overseas. He could go but she couldn’t go unless they were married. So, the engagement was followed quickly by marriage.

I shared this good news with a ‘friend.’ Her first response was “Did she have to get married?” Unless you have lived under a rock for the last 50 years, you understand that translates into “Was she pregnant and they had to get married?” In other words, my daughter isn’t good enough to get a guy without being pregnant. A year and a half later, I’m still not a grandmother. I am also not talking to that ‘friend’ much  these days.

Since I’m the age that I am; I can remember the days before Roe and the days after Roe. I have known girls who ‘had to get married’ and I have known girls who gave up babies for adoption. In addition to that, I have known women who have gotten pregnant and have been ordered by husbands and boyfriends to get an abortion. I have known the ones who resisted the man’s wishes and said “No, I’m having this baby.” Also, those who buckled under the man’s pressure and got the abortion. Guess who, after all these years, are the happiest and the most unhappy? Spoiler alert, the women who stuck up for themselves and their babies are the happiest.

So, what does this all mean? After centuries of men having children whether they wanted to or not and often more children than they wanted; we have situations where men are not getting the children they want. Women are using birth control, the birth rate has dropped dramatically. Add in abortion rights, the number of unwanted children around has dropped to almost nothing. The worm has turned. Men are having to take responsibility for wanting to have children. They are having to ask, for the very first time ever, asking the woman to please carry their children. How different is that?

Famous couples that broke up over the child issue: Here are three very famous couples that broke up and then remarried, apparently over the child/childless issue. Bruce Springsteen and Julianne Phillips; they got a divorce when she wanted to focus on her career. He remarried Patti Scialfa and has three children now. Ryan Reynolds and Scarlett Johanssen, they got a divorce and he remarried Blake Lively and they have three children. Brad Pitt and Jennifer Aniston; they got a divorce, he remarried Angelina Joie. They have 3 adopted children and 3 natural children.

My feeling is that if there are 3 very famous couples who have broken up over this issue, there are probably hundreds and hundreds of other couples who have broken up over the very same issues.

For hundreds of years, girls who ‘got into trouble’ were sent away to homes for unwed mothers to have their babies and then shamed into giving their babies up for adoption. These numbers of unwed mothers and ‘unwanted’ babies, at least in this country, have dropped to almost zero. I personally know of couples who are unable to conceive. Couples who desperately want children and are faced with a country where ‘free’ babies are virtually impossible to find. I have seen couples suffer through fertility clinics, surrogate mother scams and painful adoption proceedings.

Roe v Wade will make a lot of people very unhappy. The one sector of our population who are heaving a secret sigh are married couples looking to adopt a baby. I don’t know, maybe the universe is calling out for more babies.

As a society we need to consider why it is that so many young women of childbearing ages don’t want to have children. Why? Is it just the cost? Well, the cost is of course part, but not all. Could it be that we are still caught up in the shame-blame cycles of shaming and blaming pregnant women for their ‘condition’? Do we ever consider that men (of all ages) use women to satisfy their sexual needs? Does it take two generations of women refusing to bear children for men to finally realize that, yes, they too want children? It’s like a thousand country western songs, you don’t know what you have until it’s gone.

Pregnancy is not a curse or a disease. It is a gift. A lot more people need to start thinking that way. If you don’t believe me, sit down and have a chat with a childless couple. If we supported women and their children more as a society more, maybe there wouldn’t be such a rush to the abortion clinics.

The end.

Cew 6/22

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