Spare the Rod....

Okay... I have so many problems with the whole idea of the government trying to regulate spanking. What the shit are people thinking letting a bunch of already nosey bastards into my private family affairs, but now to punish those who are trying to do right by their kids by calling in the government... Utter bullshit.

Now, I know I will get flamed for this (and by the way, fuck you, it's my blog), but I think the government needs to mind it's own fucking business... and so do those nosey fucktard people who see my parenting skills and thinking they are so much better than mine would call out the dogs on me. Yes, they are proponents of each side, to spank or not to spank... Seriously- it ain't their decision, now is it? If they don't think spanking is the right thing to do, or something they want in their homes... then they don't have to do it. To call the cops because I bend down in the store and get right in my kids face and tell them "Stop, NOW" and "That's enough!" in a firm tone, because they think I am verbally abusive... or sic the police on me because I grab my kid by the arm when he is tearing shit off shelves, and running thru the store like an idiot and lead him away? Fuck you, pal. Mind your own business. (Notice you get the same looks from people when your kid acts the ass and you do and say nothing?)

As a kid, I was spanked. Got my ass whooped on a few occasions, but never undeservingly so. I got chased down the hall by my mother wielding a brush... and once she broke a wooden spoon over my ass. Was I abused? No. I was punished. There were times there was just simply no other way to get shit through my thick skull than to smack it in. I am not a social deviant as a result. That is not to say that there weren't other methods they used- I got grounded and lost my allowance too- but the big rule breaking usually resulted in a whoopin'- and I knew it was coming- and I did it anyway, and I paid the price.

Spanking did not result in my fearing my parents. It did make me quite sure there was nothing I could get away with. It did not teach me "violence as a way of solving issues". It did not turn me into a hateful angry person. It did not cause me to become a gang member... it also did not make me think that every bad thing I do is excusable with a little time out or a gentle talking to. I know that if I fuck up in real life- bad things can happen. people could get hurt- I could get hurt.

The anti-spanking nazis who are trying to tell YOU what to do with YOUR kids come from a generation of Dr. Spock nice-nice parenting full of time outs and "understanding" your kids. IMHO it's bullshit. "No." is a complete sentence. There is no explanation needed, especially to a tantrum throwing 5 year old. Trying to reason with that? Fuck you- I'd rather talk to the lint in my pocket- as it isn't listening either. Think back to when you were a kid... did you actually listen to half the shit your parents said? Did you tune it out? Did it start to sound like Charlie Brown's teacher? Thought so.

I am no advocate of abuse or beating- kids with bruised up faces and broken bones... but the government thinks that "we the people" aren't capable of drawing the line and knowing the difference. A couple swats across the butt for trying to stick a key in a light socket is not abuse- trying to explain to a curious toddler why that is a "bad idea" is neglectful- as young kids, no matter what we try to tell ourselves, are not capable of certain kinds of understanding. What is more effective? "No, no, junior- the candle flame is hot. You can get hurt. That's fire." or a quick slap on the back of the hand and a firm "NO! HOT!" After that? Let the little tyke burn himself. He'll learn that not only is it hot- but you were right.

Spanking should be sparse, well deserved, and never done in anger. From the days of yesteryear to today- is society any better off for all this fluffy fu-fu shit parenting? I think not. It's worse. The world has raised a new crop of spoiled, prissy, get-everything-they-want, over-indulged assholes...complete with $400 dollar iPods on their belts sitting in brand new cars that daddy bought them, and sporting name brand clothes that aren't worth the ink the labels are printed on.

I would think twice about giving that sick shit no life having lady across the way another reason to call CPS on your neighbor.... Because that is who we would be asking to police the community. The nosey fucks with too much time on their hands and arrogant attitudes that they know better than you. Oh! I also think that Child Protective Departments are already letting too many kids fall through the cracks who are real victims of abuse and neglect- let us not clog up the system with penny and dime complaints that Mary Jane smacked her kid on the butt because he ran into the street... Let's save the efforts for the kids who are being raped, and starved, okay?

Old sayings, though trite, hold truth- and over many many years someone was wise enough back then to figure it out- spare the rod... and spoil the child.

from "Rocky Mountain Family Council"... While spanking is not illegal, bruising or otherwise injuring a child is. But what about mild spanking as a corrective measure? Is it a good idea? Spanking works best when coupled with other disciplinary measures, such as "time out." Research regarding behavior modification of children ages 2 to 6 found that spanking a child two times on either the rear or thigh helped improve compliance with "time out" for misbehavior. These children were more likely to remain in their room after acting up if a potential spank followed if they left before the time was up. Furthermore, pairing reasoning with a spanking in the toddler years delayed misbehavior longer than did either reasoning or spanking alone. Reasoning linked with a spank was also more effective compared with other discipline methods. Talking with the child about what behavior is expected and why-with the potential of a follow-up spank-worked best.

According to Physician magazine, spanking should be used selectively for clear, deliberate misbehavior, especially a child's persistent defiance of a parent. It should be used only when the child receives at least as much praise for good behavior as correction for problem behavior. Verbal correction, time out and logical consequences should be used initially, followed by spanking when noncompliance persists. Only a parent should administer a spanking, not another person. Spanking should never be administered on impulse or when a parent is out of control. Parents sometimes need a time out too. Spanking is inappropriate before 15 months of age, should be less necessary after 6 years, and rarely, if ever, used after 10 years of age. Spanking should always be administered in private. Appropriate spanking only leaves temporary redness of skin, and never bruises or injures. Spanking works, but must be used thoughtfully and carefully in conjunction with other disciplinary measures."

One of those...

Today is one of those days where my life sucks. As I spent the majority of the day yesterday nursing a puking headache, the house looks like a bomb went off in it... the kitchen floor looks like I dumped the trash on it and spread it around with a wet mop... and I have 5 loads of laundry staring at me. Today is not much better, as now my headache has ordered a side of sore throat, and I twisted my bad ankle stepping on a fucking plastic toy in the hallway. Give me a hump in my back and call me Igor.

There is so much to do, and a blatant lack of motivation to get it done. The weather could be partly to blame- the blue in the sky only comes out maybe 1 in 10 days lately. I feel isolated and alone, so far from my family... My friends are gone, and phone calls just aren't cutting it. I want to sit in the sun and have a good talk with someone- a few laughs, a little cry- and it's just not possible.

When I think about the future, I get freaked the fuck out. We have options- we could stay here. We could go back to the states. Both hold perils.... Staying here; well I just don't know. After having moved so much growing up, it is tough to stay in one place for a long time. Add that to being in a foreign country and my heart gets all shriveled up when I consider spending another 3 or 4 years here, especially knowing that when we leave we'll end up still so far from home in the frozen wasteland that I think Alaska will be- or the tropical rainy bug infested jungles of Hawaii.

I feel sick at times when I realize my kids have spent more years of their life in Germany than they have in America. Of course, K2 is here. I don't wake up wondering each morning if this is the day he gets orders to Iraq. It never crosses my mind. That's a BIG, BIG plus. It is a special and unique situation compared to a vast majority of military spouses. It makes no sense to me how I can love that so much, and still long to leave... Wish we could just be done with this place.

We could roll the dice and take our chances of going back stateside in 18 months. Then we could be in proximity to a Wal-mart and Olive Garden... But that could be in some ass backwards shit hole like Tinker AFB, where going to Wal-Mart IS what to do on the weekends, and a good paying job is $6.00 an hour. More than likely, I would be there in shithole USA alone. I know as sure as I sit here that returning to the states will mean K2 gets sucked into that 12 month rotation bullshit of this dangerous and immoral war. He would likely be gone within 4 months of our return. Then I could sit in a house in tornado alley and wish I was back here- so at least I didn't go to bed sick with worry every night.

Yes, I am down and feeling like shit, and I am sure it will pass... returning to a gnawing ache in the back of my mind that I can ignore. It never leaves me completely, not really. There are no easy answers here, and I am thankful that we have a few months left to change our minds thousands of times before we settle on a plan.

Slacker

So... IT'S ALIVE!!!! The computer I mean- after a harrowing day trip into Mannheim and back- the G5 pulled through a terrible sickness. Let us all celebrate. (yay)
I am now officially fucking off... but worry not- I have stories to tell and things to bitch about- just not today. It's a good night for a bubble bath and a cold beer. Hang tight kids. I'll be back soonlyish.

Adaptation

It is going to be about $400 to fix the computer... and I have to drive to Mannheim to get it fixed. There will be documents and forms to fill out to get the insurance company to reimburse us for it. They want a fuckton of documents about the computer's breakage and repairs. Cockbites. Where am I supposed to get the original specs on this damned thing? I am good about paperwork, but I don't keep receipts for four fucking years! I will come up with SOMETHING, I'm sure.

In the mean time, I have a jerry-rigged system to work with... My email is fucked, I have no phone numbers, and I don't know when my appointments are. I am doing my housework with my iPod, as my music is all on the G5 too... Hope the phone doesn't ring with some important information- I can't hear the fucker.

Tomorrow I drive an hour to Mannheim, and hope the guy there can fix it while I wait... that is, after I get there from being lost in the German countryside. After repair, I will get to navigate back to K-town, again praying that I don't get lost, and end up in Berlin or France en route. It is why I have opted to go during the week- so I have that safety net of calling K2 at work, sobbing hysterically that I am lost, and he needs to go get the kids from school. I will proceed to have a nervous break down on the side of the Autobahn, and hopefully make it home by sunrise of Thursday morning.

It's a risk I have to take- I sure as shit can't go on not having the bare essentials I have come to rely on... I think I had a doctor's appointment this week... Fuck, I hope it wasn't today.

fuckmerunningwithapogostick!!!!

For my birthday this year, I got a broken fucking computer! We think the power supply shit itself, and I am throughly bummed out... as if turning 33 wasn't enough to put a damper on today...

Yay!

I am going to be doing my posting for the next little while from my son's eMac until we figure out how to get an American G5 computer fixed on the German fucking economy with US parts without having to sell one of my children to pay for it... or having to drive half way across this fucking country.

FUCKADUCK!!!

Fuck Right Off and Die!

Firstly, I had a fucked up morning... So let me go ahead and extend a fuzzy FOAD to the dentist my son went to see this morning. My son lost it... bad. Yes, it is entirely on the Boogerman that the situation happened. My son was such a big chicken, I think I saw a feather or two fly out of his mouth. He is being appropriately punished for his role in this.... HOWEVER- Had the good doctor done what I suggested in the first place, instead of giving me the brush off and ignoring me, everything would have gone as scheduled.

He asked me to wait outside, because "Many kids look to mom to get sympathy." I made it clear my son wouldn't do any such thing, and I offered to restrain my son for him so he could do the lidocaine shot. The doctor declined, and gave me some bullshit spiel about being "easier to handle kids if mom wasn't there".

Like a good and accommodating woman, I stood on the other side of the wall, out of sight-out of mind. My kid started freaking out worse because he thought I left. The fucktard almost got his fingers bit off. After fighting with my kid for 20 minutes (that's no exaggeration), he came and asked me to help out... Well, welcome to the smart-party, shithead, can I get you a drink?

Of course by that time, the kid was so traumatized, we didn't stand a snow balls chance in hell. He was pretty much sure we were going to kill him with the lidocaine needle. End result? Reschedule (a whole month out), and I got to take my valium/hydroxyzine drugged kid home with cavities unfilled, to stumble up the stairs and miss school. Next time they are going to try demerol. Wonderful! Drugged, stumbling and PUKING child... then I will have to carry his 55 pound ass up four flights of stairs.

As per par, doctors think they know everything- so fuck you, buster. Maybe you should listen to the person who lives with the kid everyday.... Do I strike you as a push over, worry-wart, over protective soccer mom? You Fuckbag. If we had pinned his ass in the first place, my life, and yours would have been easier, you know-it-all peckerhead. The trauma wouldn't have been a 75 minute ordeal... it would have been over with quickly.

One more thing... after you have spent 45 minutes fucking freaking a child out, then ask him a yes or no question, when he is on the verge of hyperventilation- and totally drugged out of his gourd- don't expect him to call you "sir", unless you plan to start calling me "Your Benevolent Highness".

Best pass on to your technician that there is a difference between being stern and being a bitch... She doesn't get to tell my kid that he is being a brat. I was around the corner, not on mars, whore. Not what to do. You can tell him to stop, you can tell him to be quiet and be still, you can tell him the consequences of his behavior- you DO NOT call him names. I didn't call you a silly bitch, did I? It's your job to keep your cool under difficult circumstances- that's why you work in Pediatrics.

FOAD, and thanks for a lovely time... you dickheads.

Weather

It's official. I think that the weather in Germany sucks. It has been raining 95% of the days since... oh... I don't know... Thanksgiving, maybe. Being from a place that averages 360 days of sunshine a year, it has gone way beyond "not used to it", to shitty, depressing, drizzle. I am way beyond "down", I am fully into bummed out, and moving towards totally depressed.

Normally, it would be snowing this time of year- but it's not. Apparently the ski and winter sporting events here in the Alps countries are shriveling up and dying. No, that doesn't affect me, really, but it sucks for them. (And before you flood me with hate comments about ice storms, record highs, and your problems, please understand that while I empathize- I mostly don't give a fuck- This is my self wallowing depression.)

I hate cold, but would prefer snow to this constant river of muddy shit outside. At least when it is snowing, the kids go outside and play in it. Snow makes them excited and giddy- they can't wait to get bundled up and hurdle down the hill on a sled... towards a fence... at break neck speeds. With this drab grey rain, all they do is stay in the house and sigh at me about how bored they are... then they start fucking with each other as a means to alleviate said boredom. They fight, and cry, and run to me to see if I will take sides in the petty argument-du-jour.... I have to stifle my gut reaction to throw them both in a small dark room, with ball bats, and let them work it out.

This is mother nature's way of getting back at me. She's pissed off that she can no longer torture me with cramps and misery every 3 weeks, so she has arranged to have me slowly lose my fucking mind over the period of 5 or 6 months. I swear, I am going to rust.

Magic Trick

"Hey, Rocky! Watch me pull a rabbit out of my hat!"

I know how to make my family disappear, as if I were David Fucking Copperfield, but I don't need any fancy cover sheets, mirrors, or fireworks. It's done with magic words. Not Abbra Cadabra, no, nothing so mundane.

The magic words are, "I could really use some help with the housework today." Suddenly, the boy is in his room entranced with his XBox within seconds. The girl goes in her bedroom, and turns her music on so loud she could not possibly hear me. The husband mysteriously comes down with narcolepsy, and falls asleep on the couch- so deeply asleep that he snoozes through me banging nails into the walls, and slamming into the couch with a full laundry basket.

"No doubt about it... I gotta get another hat!"

Bipolar Cure

For my bipolar friends.... I know there are those of you who go manic and get all giddy and euphoric. When you go up- you go really up. I have the cure!!! If you are feeling just way too good about life- and know it is going to lead to an inevitable crash- try my therapy! It's faster than pills, and is guaranteed to give that manic euphoria pause!

Find the smallest pair of jeans you can fit in- your favorite pair. The ones that make your ass look nice, and hit just right in the leg. Throw them into the washing machine on warm (not cold)- as if they were caught in with the wrong group of colors. When the wash cycle is complete- don't hang them dry- but put them in a nice hot dryer for at least an hour. When the dryer is done- leave the load overnight, so as to let your favorite jeans get nice, cold and stiff.

Now for the therapy for your mania... (It works best if it is that day during your monthly cycle that you get puffy and bloated with water weight, and you face is broken out in pubescent zits.) Go get your cold, stiff, processed jeans from the dryer and pull them on. Feel the mania slip away as you suck in and jump up and down, making laps around the foot of the bed, to get the tight fuckers on. Feel that euphoria go by the way side, as you consider laying on the bed to zip the denim skin over your water retaining ass. As you puzzle the problem of them having fit fine two days ago- wonder if it is possible to put on 8 pounds in 36 hours.... and that manic upswing will be gone like it was never there.

Still feeling a little too good about yourself? Go get your sneakers.... any pair of tying shoes will do. With your prison tight pants on and zipped up- find a kitchen chair to sit in, and proceed to put on your shoes, and tie them... No cheating now! You have to stay in the chair, and the pants have to stay buttoned... Push your endurance to the limit as you feel consciousness slip away... as you must hold your breath while trying to tie fast enough... before you pass out from lack of oxygen to the brain. You may find cussing under your breath while tying helps. Call your jeans names, and bitch out your shoe laces for fighting with you.

Your mania should be all but gone now, but just to make sure- go look in a mirror at the waistline of your jeans- and note the little pouchy roll'o'you sticking out from the top of them. Allow your eyes to drift downwards to that fabulous new look your jeans have given to your vaginal area... Especially the new "Camel Toe" you are sporting, giving your female crotch the look of a set of divided man's mini-balls.

There, now, your euphoric mania is gone... Doesn't that feel so much fucking better?!

Hectic Weeks

I know I have been awful about updating these past two weeks. K2 finally went back to work, but the kids are on Christmas break until Monday and they have been in my grill constantly. Mother nature has seen fit to give snow to southern AZ, but nothing but rain and wind in Germany.... Not just a little rain- but a constant onslaught of mud making wet, and gusting winds. Out of the last 2 weeks, they have been able to go out and play maybe 2.5 days. In the mean time, I have been making a sincere effort to not lose my mind and pull my hair out... I am not bald yet.

So- they will go back to class on Monday. YAY! Then we will be back to my frustration over my son's class load- as his second grade teacher thinks it is appropriate to assign so much homework that he is at it for 2 hours a day.... I didn't do that much fucking homework in high school... and he's 8 years old. It's pissing me off. He should have time during the week to go out and play after homework. He is still sitting there when my husband gets home from work. Fan-fucking-tastic.

There is driving the kids to excel- then there is useless busy work. If he is needing to do 2 hours of work every afternoon- it makes me curious- what the fuck does he do all day in class? Can't they fit some of this shit in during the 6.5 hours he is at SCHOOL?! No wonder kids these days are on Prozac and Ritalin.

Got an email today from the school admins. They want the parents feedback and suggestions on how to improve the educational experience. I haven't filled it out yet- as I am sure an email full of references to "Fuckers" and "Assholes" would not be received well, nor taken seriously. The biggest piss off? I am not the first parent to express concern.... I am not even a rarity. It may take me a few days to compose my survey response in my head, as right now I feel like signing it "Kiss my ass, Sincerely, Mrs. K"