It’s Amy’s fault. My next-door-neighbor. She’s why I worked this year’s election.
The thought sent a thrill through the middle of my chest. “I’m doing it!” I crowed at her from my backyard later that day. “This election is so important. I want to be a part of it!”
Via an online registration form, I signed up to work the November election in West Virginia. For days, then weeks, I heard nothing. Until my friend Juliette posted on Facebook she’d been picked to work the polls. …
Last year, in the interest of protecting children from sexual abuse, I did a thing.
Robert had never seen me present, and vice versa. To me, one of the most compelling things Robert shared was a relatively simple thing parents, guardians, and teachers can do to prevent child sexual abuse.
Simple, and yet not easy, for a lot of people.
Many parents teach their children cute (or bizarre) names for their genitals. This is a really bad idea.
Names such as “spot,” “cricket,” “woohoo,” and “Oscar Mayer Weiner” are problematic. …
Never has a country been more aptly named than Iceland, the land of fire and ice. Both extremes were beautifully evident at every location we traveled. It is a land of extremes and of contradictions. The heated lagoons, and steam vents, bespoke the volcanic turmoil just below the surface and yet the highlands wore scarves of ice and the glaciers melted and moved more slowly than a human eye could detect.
Since I’ve traveled twice with this particular trip coordinator (Karen Haring, Executive Director of Libera) — Scotland in 2017, Scotland in 2018 — I knew the trip’s first day would be action-packed. …
In a private Facebook group, I recently read 368 comments reacting to a woman who posted,
368 comments. Clearly this gal touched upon a hot topic, (don’t) pardon the pun. Curious, I tracked the number of women agreeing and disagreeing with her. Seventy women said they would indeed miss sex. Ninety-nine basically said, “Meh, I’m done.” The other 199 comments were details, helpful hints, and arguments.
In reading that thread, I think I figured out the reason a whole lot of those ladies are in the “meh” category. More on that later.
This whole “do you or don’t you want it” conversation is why I’m here today. For a while now I’ve considered writing on this topic. But honestly, I was scared. …
I can help.
If you know me, even a little, you know I’m a big fan of boundaries: the concept and the book. In fact, in this blog post I ranked Boundaries #2 on my list of all-time favorite nonfiction titles.
As I wrote in the above-mentioned post,
“Years ago after one of my epic clashes with my mother, I popped into a bookstore on my way home from her house and bought Boundaries. I then speed-read it in a day and came up with a boundaries-based action plan.”
Confession: Prior to reading Boundaries, I planned to tell Mom I’d gotten a full-time job, which I had not, in order to get her to leave me the heck alone. …
Question: How are you protecting your children during the pandemic situation we’re currently experiencing?
You may think that’s a good thing. I did. But it’s not a good thing. Over half of all reports of child abuse are made by school staff. Are the kids currently in school? No, they are not. That’s the reason child abuse reports are down.
And guess what? The very individuals who commit the majority of the crimes against children are now more stressed and more bored than ever. Not only that,
But don’t despair. A very fine group of nonprofits and talented individuals recently devised an excellent plan for protecting your children. …
Many folks associate “fundamentalism” with religion. As in this definition from dictionary.com:
Recently I heard an interesting theory. That the term “fundamentalism” can actually refer to several subject areas, not just religion.
Dictionary.com supports this idea with an additional definition of “fundamentalism:”
In my opinion,
For the longest time, my parents sheltered my brothers and me from post-mortem matters. It wasn’t until the eighth grade that I attended a funeral, my paternal grandfather’s. In the back of the church sanctuary I stayed that afternoon, afraid that death…I don’t know…might somehow be contagious.
The second funeral I attended was the service of a high school homeroom buddy. He died drag racing. Which burst my back-then-belief that death couldn’t touch a teenager.
This not only made mandatory my presence at viewings and memorial services, but also my walking within feet if not inches of the dearly departed. …
Twenty-eight years ago my husband Tony, currently an ACC football official, read those words in the Dallas Cowboys Weekly and began his officiating football journey.
Since Tony says most states currently need officials in all sports, I asked him how to get started with officiating. According to Tony,
“First you need to join your local football board. Then you’ll go through a training class. Soon after, you’ll start officiating.”
Working midget, community, and middle school games is not glamorous. …
I don’t remember who got bit first but eventually, everyone did. You could play connect-the-dots on our son’s midsection. My husband’s neck and ears blossomed with thumbprint-sized welts that itched ferociously. In time, both girls also suffered with itchee-owies. I was bitten a time or two.
At first we weren’t sure what was going on. Maybe the culprit was mosquitos: big, honking mosquitos.
And then one morning Junior-Man showed me the tell-tale smear of dried blood on his pillow case.
When we whipped the bed clothes back, we found an apple-seed-looking insect carcass. Junior-Man Googled it. “It’s a bedbug.”
My stomach tumbled. Not bedbugs. Please, no. I knew from a friend’s experience, how bad bedbugs could be. …