Dinosaur Chicken Nuggets Are The Only Meaningful Proof That Dinosaurs Existed

Yes. I said exactly what you read. Dinosaur chicken nuggets are the only meaningful proof that  the dinosaurs existed. At least according to my son (who is the only boy in my crazy gang). I am still trying to work this one out. I'm pretty sure he was just being silly. I am pretty sure he was only trying to make me (and his sisters) laugh. I am doubly sure that he did not really want to play with his food as he said he did. (Notice I said I was pretty sure. Because I am not really entirely 100% sure- especially when it comes to him, but he's mine and I loves him.)

But anyway. We were talking about meaningful proof of existence... Bet you're wondering how I am gonna turn this into something meaningful, inspirational or encouraging- right? I'm not. While I believe it is important to learn from the day to day happenings in life, I also believe you shouldn't have to reach to learn those all-important life lessons.

Sometimes you just need to be silly. Sometimes you just need to march to the beat of your own drummer. Sometimes you need to get out of the same box as everyone else. Free your mind. Free your inner child. It isn't all seriousness, so laugh a little.

It's important to be spontaneous sometimes! (And- dare I say it?) Sometimes it is okay to play with your food!

I'm Pregnant!!!

I'm pregnant. Are there any doctors in the house?
Its been awhile since I've been expecting- I think I might have forgotten what its like...
In fact, I'm sure I have. Otherwise, I would have recognized the signs long before now.
I'm pregnant. Past the point of "Oh God, what am I gonna do?"
Coming to the place of "Oh God, how am I gonna do this?"
Nearing the time of "I HAVE TO PUSH!!!"
I'm pregnant. And I haven't seen a doctor, midwife or nurse. And I can't find my way to the birthing room.
I'm pregnant. Past the time when the devil's playground is in my mind- thinkin those idle thoughts of abort or adopt- 
I'm in the place where this life inside is MINE.
I'm pregnant. Are there any doctors in the house?


Admittedly, tonight, I cheated. The above is something I wrote a few years ago, but I think it is just as important and relevant today as it was back then. 

When I was 17, I got pregnant (literally) and while no one held a gun to my head and said. "You are going to have an abortion"- there was definitely pressure (from everyone and everywhere, including my own thoughts) to abort my unborn child. I succumbed to the pressure and on July 17, 1997, I killed the gift.

Yes. I remember the day. I have nightmares about what could have been. I wonder about the person I would be today, had I allowed the gift to live...

Maybe you aren't pregnant in the literal since of bringing forth a babe, but everyone is pregnant with a gift. And everyone has an appointed time to deliver the gift. 

I look back now and think of all the people I should not have told I was pregnant. They didn't speak life into me. They only spoke of failure, death and decay... And I let them. I allowed them to speak into me. I allowed them to influence me, when it came to my gift.

Life is the same way... You have to be careful  who knows about your pregnancy; who is speaking over what you carry and who influences your gift. 

If you allow your gift to be destroyed and torn down before it is even birthed- you will have REGRETS. You will always question if you could have succeeded. It will HAUNT you. And yes- other gifts will come along- some you will happen upon and others you will labor and toil with for many hours- BUT these new gifts will NEVER replace the ONE you aborted. Take care of the gift. Nurture the gift. Birth your gift no matter how long the labor, how deep the pains or how many people try to make you abort. Your gift is valuable. Your gift is important. 

And remember- gifts aren't meant to be sat on a shelf somewhere to collect dust and not be seen and rarely enjoyed. Gifts are meant to be shared among friends, handled and admired, used and sometimes gently abused. 

So- if you find that you are pregnant (and inevitably you will find that you are) get yourself to the birthing center! Find the doctor! Look for some nurses! Employ a midwife- and get to pushin!

At Least You Don't Smell Like Fish...

This morning I had a revelation... It all started when I grounded Kaira (for those of you who don't know, that's the youngest one of my crazy bunch). You see, I had been telling her since Saturday to clean her room. Even though today is only Tuesday, it has been a super busy week for me already and because of this, I wasn't on top of things at home like I like to be, but hey- I trust my crazy gang to buckle down and get the job done. And usually, they do. Until they don't. Anyway, its Tuesday morning and I crack at the sight of this little girl's room. I smiled at her and in my merriest Mary Poppins voice, I told her she was grounded. The attitude that ensued was treacherous. You would have thunk I did something extremely inconceivably wrong by grounding her. So, I commented on a social media outlet, that little miss thang didn't seem to understand the beating that was about to commence. And that's when revelation hit me- kind of like when you're going 600 mph and a brick wall suddenly jumps in front of you. Yeah- painful, I know. 

I started thinking (dangerous in and of itself, but that's a topic for another day...) about all of the times God tells me to do something and I lay around and blatantly don't do it. I began to wonder how many times God actually has to tell me to do something before I do it or if God has to use the parental voice (I actually imagined God yelling at me in Spanish- as this is the only parental voice the people who imagine they are grown, but really have no clue what grown is all about and may not live to actually see grown, will listen to. Pretty funny if you are a predominantly English speaking person and generally feel that God converses with me in English). Finally, I wondered if God ever got tired of telling me to do things and if the messes I tend to find myself in aren't really messes at all, but rather the commencement of a beating from God. After that, all I could do was smile and thank God that I didn't smell like the inside of a fish for the rest of my life.

So, I'm really gonna be mindful of hearing the voice of God from now on and I am going to work on not invoking a beating of mass destruction into my life. I really am. And the next time I hear you talk about how everything is not right in your life and everything is going wrong and nothing is going right, I might slip you a note with a stupid emoticon on it, that says something like, "listen to God." But more than likely, I will say loudly for everyone to hear, "at least you don't smell like fish!" And everyone will know what I am talking about, because EVERYONE who is in the know, KNOWS...

...and needless to say, Kaira didn't get any type of beating... I'm sure there will be plenty of other times for that... 

Don't Be Afraid to Throw Your Balls Up In The Air!

I have a confession. Are you ready for this? I am sometimes awed by jugglers throwing balls round and round in the air. Bloody fascinated. I swear. I know I am not the only one, either. 

So, what is about those jugglers that makes them so special? Were they born with the amazing talent of being able to throw bunches of thing in the air without ever dropping them? (Duh. No one is born with that kind of talent. Unless you are a carpenter named Jesus, then maybe, everyone else not so much) Is there a juggling fairy somewhere kind of like the infamous leprechaun spreading the juggling know how? (Once again, I must use the less than original phrase- duh. Tinker Bell only exists on TV and inside the wonderful World of Disney.) Maybe it is a genetic thing. You know- either you're born with it or you're not. (Get real. People hype genetical gifts up to way more than what they are worth.)

Life is much like the a fore mentioned juggler... It takes work. It takes practice. It takes laughter and smiles. It takes bravery. It takes not being afraid to throw your balls in the air.

So, tonight, I challenge you to throw those balls in the air! After all, if you aren't holding them, you are able to do more, right? And, just think- you only need to touch them every so often to keep them spinning in bliss.

Call me crazy, but I think we could learn a lot just from letting go of all our balls and start them spinning in the air! ;)

I HATE TRAFFIC

If you live on the East Coast between New York and Washington, DC or possibly Miami or on the West Coast (in the LA area, I'm told)- you understand what I mean when I say I HATE TRAFFIC.

Traffic is the most annoying thing ever known to man, I promise.

And if you really think about it, most traffic jams happen because a) some idiots way beyond where you can see decide to ride side by side at the same speed, so that no one is able to pass b) there has been an accident somewhere and everyone NOT involved in said accident is breaking their neck (and most times nearly causing another accident) to verify that their mom, dad, child, girlfriend/boyfriend, cousin, best friend, enemy, dog washer, realtor, pastor, neighbor, teacher or what have you, has not been involved in previously mentioned accident c) they are doing road work and some portion of the roadway is closed and more than one moronic idiot failed to notice, read or adhere to the signs posted stating the closure and now those of us who were mindful of the signs are forced to accommodate you non-readers at the point where said lane CLOSES and d) some poor fella has broken down on the side of the road and everyone tries to move to another lane to avoid hitting the person sitting in the car with the blinky lights- which causes a mass slamming on of the brakes from all the cars behind (however, this type of traffic generally moves pretty quickly and barely qualifies as being traffic, but hey-.)

If you haven't noticed- I HATE TRAFFIC. Its not that I don't have patience. I am perfectly satisfied with the level of patience I have been blessed with. Its that I have so many things I could be doing OTHER than sitting in traffic. If you ask me, to much time is wasted on minutes sitting in traffic.

At any rate, I found myself sitting in the despised mess earlier today. And I got to thinking about why I was sitting in traffic, I started musing on the reasons listed above and I had several AHA moments (oh and Oprah, I have no money, so kindly do not expect any royalty payments from this chic)...

#1- Are there any persons in my life that are refusing to let me pass, thereby 'keeping me in my place'? Feel free to make it personal, here... The sad answer: "yes". The obvious question: "why the hell am I allowing someone to STOP the progress of MY LIFE?" That in and of itself is CRAZY!!! Okay, admittedly, I am kind-a out there and I got a lot of crazy in me, but this absolutely ridiculous. Even for me.

#2- How many people in my life are only there to observe the carnage? Seriously. I just developed another reason why I hate traffic- it gives me time to think about this stuff and then just when my brain has processed the load, it starts moving again and I am left without the time to figure out how I am going to absolve myself of the waste. But, I digress. We are focusing on #2... I have had a lot of destruction (or what I thought of as destruction), failures, tragedies and so on. I can't help but wonder how many people have practically broken their necks trying to watch my demise, live and in person... And I am not the only one who has this kind of crazy going on in my life, either, so get off your high and mighty right this second and acknowledge your crazy! What is wrong with us that we allow these kind of people in our lives??? Ugh. Need I say again, I hate traffic.

#3- Be ware of those people trying to jump in just before the door closes. They are the same people who never studied for a test and expected you to provide the answers when the teacher wasn't looking. They want you to do all of the work while they reap the benefits. Ha!

#4- Blinky lights are a good thing! Someone will see them and come to your rescue. You may have to sit and wait it out for a bit, but help is on the way. Don't be afraid to use your blinky things... You know, ask for help, call a hotline, go to AA...

Like I said, I now have another reason for hating traffic and that is the fact that now I have to deal with all this toxicity that sitting there allowed me to realize... But actually, its not that bad. it is time to do some serious house cleaning- and no I don't mean chasing under-the-bed dust bunnies with the broom, either. I mean, it is really time to examine life and see what's what and who's who. It doesn't matter how old you are or how young.

 It is important to know these kinds of traffic jams exist. Sometimes, they can be avoided if you have advance notice of them happening. Consider me your friendly neighborhood eye in the sky traffic reporter. So, now you have the information. Its up to you to decide the route you will take to get to your destination.

The Ugly Truth Of It All

If you come to my house- you will be welcomed and offered whatever food or beverage item is on hand at the time, my children will chat you up, the dogs will want to play, the toilet seat will more than likely be up, the TV will be blaring to no one in particular, Kaira's dolls will be scattered throughout the dining room and I am pretty sure there will be clothes needing to be washed or folded or put away.

If you ask me to do something for you- I will be more than happy to do it I just might do it with the kids in tow or I might not get around to it until after I have played flash light tag, read a gazillion bed time stories and cleaned the bath tub for the third time.

Need a ride? Sure I can get you there. I won't ever charge you gas money and I will get you there on time. You just might have to ride in a less than pristine car and sometimes there will be a towel covering the seat and when you attempt to move it, I will shout at you to leave it there! (Trust me, you really don't wanna know what is underneath of there...)

The point is, I'm not perfect. I am so far from it that I wouldn't know what it was if it was staring me straight in the face... But that doesn't stop me from enjoying life and interacting with the world around me...  So now you know that I am extraordinarily unperfect. Don't ever come to me expecting perfection. You will be extremely disappointed. So, why even go through the stress of all that?

So for the record, I am not perfect. I hope I have made that abundantly clear. I really hope you weren't expecting perfection. It ain't gonna happen. I don't know how else to put it and that's the ugly truth of it all. The end.

P.S. I am completely at ease with not being perfect. Failure and I have become good friends. I'll introduce you sometime, if you want. I highly recommend you try not being perfect... It does wonders for your self esteem and all that jazz. Just take a deep breadth and shout it out "I AM NOT PERFECT"- there? Doesn't that feel better? I knew it would. Have a great night and enjoy your imperfectness! Tootles!

Conversations I have had with Valerie. Or should have had.

Me: Mom, I need you to call this place about a refund.

Valerie: What? What place?

Me: I think its called Georgetown something...

Valerie: Why do I need to call? You're a big girl. You call.

Me: I did call. They hung up on me. I'm thinking if you call, they'll listen to you, cause you're one of them.

Valerie: What are you talking about- I'm one of them?

Me: A nurse, Mom. You're a nurse. I figure you have a better chance of getting a refund than I did. They said I was a princess- I saw the pictures and the cards those people gave to you. And I have waited PATIENTLY for like 500 years and not a one of them has given me my crown yet. They lied. I want your money back.

Valerie: Goodbye Kimberly. I am busy and I do not have time for your silliness.

Me: But Mom!

Valerie: What???

Me: I love you.

Valerie: I love you too. Now what do you want?

Me: Nothing. I just wanted to say hi.

Valerie: Hi.

Me: I thought you said you were busy?

Valerie: I am and I have to go.

Me: Okay. Wait Kaira wants to talk to you. (As I proceed to call Kaira away from whatever game or thing she is doing, so she can converse with Valerie)

I do this ALL the time. I love calling my mom just to see how long I can keep her on the phone with meaningless conversation.- She hasn't caught on yet. And I don't even have to worry about her reading this, because she won't know about it. Did you hear me world? Its OUR SECRET.

Seriously, there are times that I want to tell certain members of my family to go get a refund on me... I, being the oldest girl grandchild, daughter, ect,ect, was supposed to go to college and graduate and become a teacher and a lawyer and all of this other really cool stuff. But, I, being the original outcast, went to college, met friends and played cards. That lasted one year, before they kindly asked me to leave... (actually, I got pregnant and decided I was leaving, then I got shot and my mom decided I was leaving, but if all that hadn't happened, they would've asked me to leave) and now 15ish years later, I am still lacking that illustrious degree (even though I have a massive amount of credits), I am just coming into me as a woman and I am just beginning to think about the possibility of taking those LSATs, it seems as if I have missed the opportunity of success in these certain family member's eyes...

Even though I feel I am finally on that boat of successful womanhood, its weird that my family members think I missed it and I am a 'lost cause'. I don't know whether to shake my fists angrily at them or stick my tongue out making the raspberry sound with my hands on either side of my face with fingers wiggling...

I have finally realized that I am the only one who can determine whether my life or any point in my life is a success and the merits that determine what success for me is. Hallelujah. I challenge you to go out and be successful in the best way you know how to be.

Disclaimer

Why hello there. Thanks for stopping by. Although I know you're probably only here because you need verification that there is in fact, someone out there in the land under the sun, who is indeed more crazy than you. That's fine. I'll accept my title. I mean, it is what it is, right? Now before we get to involved, I have to make this public service announcement- If you are here, because you somehow were misled or misguided into believing that this Blog is going to give you encouragement or help you through life's tough situations- PLEASE LEAVE NOW. You will only be disappointed if you stay. I am not the secret to world peace or your personal problem solver and I most certainly do not proclaim to know it all (all you have to do is ask the people in close proximity to me on a daily basis. They will tell you I don't know what I'm talking about. I don't ever understand anything about anything and blah blah blah. They also will tell you that I am evil and they hate me, but they are kids and they don't count.)

Oh look! Something shiny! I totally forgot where I was going with that. Oh well. My point is this: I am here to have fun and to secretly divorce my addiction to Facebook. I invite you to have fun with me. May we laugh, cry and drink together (but only ginngerale, cause that's about all I can handle).

So, y'all come back now, ya' hear?