Occasionally I reread old things that I wrote to see if I still stand by them. I find sometimes that I shake my head sheepishly semi embarrassed, sometimes I want to high five myself, and still other times I want to nominate my past self for a Nobel Peace Prize. Below is the definition of an entry that I should have nominated for a Nobel prize. Whatever that process is. Maybe there is still time. Who knows? Please enjoy.
“My head is stronger,” my four year old says as she pushes her head against mine. I should point out that this is going on while I’m trying to strap her shoes for her. It doesn’t seem to matter to her that I’m assisting her. This is a power play.
The sad part is that her head is stronger. Not in the particular way that she is trying to show me. My neck muscles have had time to toughen up and I didn’t budge when she tried to head butt me to move my head. Reading over that it makes me seem dumb for not moving my head, but trust me when I say in the moment it made sense. I needed that “win” to get me through the day.
Her head is stronger in the way that matters. The way that makes her not back down, even when she is very very very wrong. In the way that makes her cry about the stuffed puppies ears not going down even though they have never been that way to begin with. The way that ends in my safety pinning the dogs ears down for her to take it to show in tell at school. In the way that makes her refuse to let me sing in the car even though I am totally on key. What? Well, OK. But she has no proof that I’m not on key. You are just assuming. You know what that does…
After this head strong exchange I really should have went back to bed. All the signs were there that it was going to be a rough one. Who gets headbutted in the first hour they are up in the morning? A person that needs to go back to bed, and maybe a billy goat. Those are the only two acceptable answers.
We took my six year old to school for the morning. This particular morning my four year old was going to miss her so much. Sure they were punching each other just minutes before? That means nothing. Her heart was breaking now.
I tried to get her in the car to go to her preschool. She was not having it. I picked her up and she cried. Fought and yelled. A truck came to park by us. I have my suspicions they were checking to see if I was taking her. I wanted to assure them that this was my spawn, otherwise I would have peeled out leaving her. This isn’t the first time that we have had concerned onlookers.
We finally get in the car and she wants to fight. The reason for the fight doesn’t matter. It just needs to be a fight. She doesn’t like that I turned to look at her. She doesn’t like that we are taking this way to get to preschool. Yadda, yadda.
Here is where I confess I sunk to a four year old level. I’m not proud of it. A Beyonce song came on the radio. My four year old daughter yelled that she didn’t like the song. I don’t want to lose my Beyhive membership, so she needs to cool it. I am at my wits end.
I left the song on, guys. I left the song on as revenge. I also may or may not have turned it up a notch to prove that I would prevail. I confess I didn’t really care about my Beyhive membership. I didn’t really like the song either, but I turned it up to sing anyway.
Guess my head is stronger today.
My four year old daughter filled out the below about my husband. It is awesome.
I haven’t seen him eat eggs. I haven’t really even heard him talk about eggs ever, but considering how she nailed everything else I must not be paying enough attention.
Love to all the dad’s out there. Especially mine!
On a side note, you may notice in the corner there is an ad for Tygus Families. This is a local farm to table beef program. In this time where we are seeing so many recalls on our food, this place is able to tell you exactly where the beef comes from.
I am not receiving any payment for writing this. I like the idea of promoting local business. Go get some beef for Father’s Day!
Dear Victim Blamers and Rapist Defenders,
Hello, my name is Mandelynn. I don’t believe we have met. I have read your comments on numerous social platforms with utter disbelief and if we are being honest disgust. I wanted to take a minute to explain why what I am reading is so puzzling to me.
The puzzlement is in relation to the new phrase I have heard to explain why rape happens. Frighteningly enough, some people don’t believe rapes are caused by the rapists. They believe it is caused by some new bullshit buzz phrase called “party culture.” This phrase has been used to explain and defend the inexcusable.
I plan on laying out what I find disagreeable about blaming a rape victim. I work better with examples, so I’m going to provide one to walk us through.
If you were to hear about a case where a female is drunk and a male is drunk. The male rapes the female. Let’s also say that the male was caught and witnessed by other men. This way we know it really happened (because men saw it.) Let’s say it took place behind a dumpster and the woman was passed out.
The female was doing nothing illegal in enjoying drinks. The male was not doing anything wrong while enjoying drinks. The part that went wrong was when the male decided that he was able to touch another person. The female was maintaining her autonomy. Once the male encroached on that, he was in the wrong.
There is a clear double standard in drinking that is dumbfounding. I’ll try to put it simply:
The second a woman sips a drink she must become more vigilant. Her observations must increase in terms of who is around her, where her friends are, if a piece of trash could climb out of a dumpster to attack, and also by the way she should never leave her drink unattended. If she should make any misstep in these and end up harmed, she is at fault equally to the person that attacked her.
On the other hand once a man sips, he can no longer even control his penis. His responsibility decreases so far that some people don’t even believe he can tell right from wrong anymore. How can he be expected to not rape anyone? Is he supposed to know a passed out woman is off limits? She was there (physically at least) and obviously she wasn’t keeping track of all the things I listed above, so she must be at fault too. Don’t get me started on what she was wearing either. I think there may have been ankle showing.
“Party culture” is not what I would call this. I would call this men raised so babied that they honestly don’t believe they are at fault. Men that are so used to blame being shifted from them that they think they are entitled to receive a get out of jail free card. If you have raised a son to believe that he is not responsible for what he does when intoxicated, do us mothers of daughters a favor and keep them home from college. Additionally if you believe the victim shares the blame, please use more common sense.
– If you read through this and realized that this is a departure from my normal “voice,” I would like to explain in this way: I have two little girls. Someday they are going to go to college. I am disgusted reading daily about a particular case making it seem that the price of going to college for our daughters, is for them to accept that they may end up raped (1 in 6 freshmen will be according to us news.) I won’t accept people saying that the “party culture” is responsible. The rapists are and have always been the cause.
“If you could have any super power, what would it be?” I asked my family. I’m mature like that and these are important things to know about people you spend the majority of your life around. The girls ignored me. I’m still salty about that.
“I would want to live forever,” responds my husband. Seems to be a legit answer. Then it occurs to me. If he lived forever he would be totally lonely. I mean what about us.
I decide to go with that and ask him.
“What about your family? We wouldn’t be living forever.”
The deep answer that I got. A shrug of the shoulders. That’s right people, a shrug of the shoulders. I of course called him out on the response because how can he even imagine life without me and not fall to pieces.
I think he responded by asking me what I would do. I obviously said flying. That is a no brainer. I mean flying is something we could do together. Unlike living together. I guess one of us has different priorities.
At this point my four year old jumped in because she knows when to interrupt “important” discussions. She says she wants super speed. I’m good with that. She could fan us during the summer.
My 6 year old continued to ignore the question.
What super power are do would you have and would you consider your family before making such a big decision?
Other things I have out there around the web: