Fun Now, A Chore Later

Every kid, or at least little girls, plays pretend. I know my sisters and I did. Playing house, where at of course I was always the mother. Hey, I’m the oldest—it’s my right!

In a previous post I told you I am not a feminist in the least. Yet, I must wonder why the Play Best Pressed Ironing Board, on Target’s website, is pink. It’s obviously made for girls. The same with the Minnie Bows Twinkle Vacuum Cleaner. Does that mean only girls can play with them, which is a separate issue.? Hey, Dad irons, Dad vacuums.

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A toy shopping cart is okay, little girl. Just stay away from the toy appliance aisle.

Back to my original point. In my opinion, toys like an ironing board and vacuum cleaner show little girls that only girls, then women, can do those things. I would hate for my nieces to grow up thinking that cooking and cleaning were their only choices in life.

I know my sisters, and luckily they’ll set their kids straight.

The Real Most Wonderful Time of the Year

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Courtesy iwcrotterdam.com

I thought I had two (!!) more months before I had to think about Christmas. But thanks to the people at WordPress with today’s prompt, I am forced to think about the dreaded holiday today, September 7th.

Isn’t it sad to dread such a nice holiday? I was like everyone, racking my brain, trying to think of the perfect gift for everyone. Instead of enjoying the season, it was more a burden than “the most wonderful time of the year.” But last year our family did something I would recommend for any family with older children who are sick of the Christmas rush and materialism.

We exchanged gifts on Christmas Eve night, which was a welcome relief from the mayhem of Christmas morning.   But we all had a deal: The gifts to each other couldn’t be material gifts; rather, donations to charities of causes the recipient was passionate about.

We didn’t get things, but I would say it was the best Christmas I can remember.

 

People say we need to put Jesus back in Christmas, and I think that’s what the Tharp family did on December 24, 2015.

Full-Sized Required

At the risk of offending some of my readers, I agree that some things are just better miniaturized. Hershey’s miniatures and miniature golf, for example. But on the other hand, I can think of one thing where the full-sized version is definitely preferred (at least by me): Dogs!

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I’d be annoyed, too. Courtesy: images.petbestcom

What am I talking about? Toy dogs. In my humble opinion, to classify as a dog the animal must be 25 pounds or larger.

This leaves out “dogs” such as Pekinese, Hairless Chihuahuas, and Toy Poodles. I wouldn’t go as far as Dad to call them rats, but they are definitely not on my dog bucket list. Forget anything “teacup.”

Don’t get me started on clothes for dogs! If God had intended on dogs wearing outer garments, they would have been born naked.

Okay, I will get off my soapbox now. I just saw the prompt and had to get that off my chest.

Say It Isn’t So

One question: is there any person in America (possibly the world) who doesn’t enjoy a spoonful of raw cookie dough? It’s as American as hot dogs and apple pie. It’s stirred into ice cream and comes in those tubes, which, if I had the chance, I would eat like a banana.

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Quite possibly the only thing Bill Gates and I have in common.

It gives me chills, but with the salmonella risk with raw eggs and now a flour recall, what if the Surgeon General bans raw cookie dough? It’d be like Prohibition. Only worse. One question: would anyone really follow the new law? Not in our house, they wouldn’t.

We practically eat raw dough from the cookie jar in our house because Mom bakes them for 6 minutes and 15 seconds (not 6 minutes, not 6 minutes and 30 seconds. I mean 6 minutes and 15 seconds exactly). It doesn’t really count as baking. It’s more like warming up the dough. because the cookies pretty much seep through the wire racks as they cool.

But now that I think about it, my worries about a ban may be unfounded because the way I see it, raw cookie dough is protected under the Bill of Rights since my pursuit of happiness most definitely includes pursing raw cookie dough.

Going, Going, Gone

You know how I feel about these one-word prompts. My disdain has forced me to start a Pinterest board entitled “Blog Prompts.” Luckily, I also have a couple books of them.

This post is in response to the prompt “Name some things we use every day that will be obsolete in twenty years.”

Paper books (they are heading that way, but in 20 years everyone will have a Kindle or Nook)

Brick-and-mortar book stores

The post office

Grocery stores (everything bought on Amazon)

Gas stations

Cars that drive themselves becoming the norm

Stoves controlled by humans (I bet the next thing will be that you tell a computer what you want and, working with the fridge, it whips it up)

I’m looking at Maggie and I bet there will be a device that walks dogs without a human.

Maybe movie theaters as home entertainment systems become more and more sophisticated.

Brick-and-mortar banks

It’s About More Than Hot Dogs and a Good Sale

Memorial Day kicks off the summer, unofficially. There will be trips to the beach, the smell of hot dogs on the grill, and tediously long lines at America’s airports. We sometimes forget the true meaning of Memorial Day: honoring those who have made the ultimate sacrifice for us.

I can’t imagine experiencing the horrors of war day in and day.

While it’s true most soldiers come home unscathed, sadly there are a lot that don’t. Whatever the cause, they face months in the hospital and extensive therapy to hopefully regain 50% of their pre-war selves. I just stumbled upon a charity that helps the post war veteran with a TBI or PTSD by providing adaptive technology, voice recognition laptops and personal GPS.

You (me included) remember the fallen soldier today, and that’s great. That’s what today’s all about. But what about the ones who’s lives will never be the same? In a way, haven’t they also made the ultimate sacrifice?

Please take a second and check out this link to Soldiers’ Angels, an organization that provides technology to one of the most deserving groups I can think of.

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A Soldiers’ Angels Chaplain Support Group making a donation. Courtesy Soldiers’ Angels

My 600-Pound Fascination

If you haven’t seen “My 600-Pound Life,” you’re missing out. Each episode follows a morbidly obese individual. It shows their daily life. A lot of them are literally bedridden. Often their kids must do absolutely everything for them: bathing, shopping, and cooking.

They have family members get them fast food, sometimes five times a day. One woman actually had a fryer on her nightstand. No joke! What gets me is they actually wonder why they can’t lose weight. I wonder.

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Yes, that is a Fry Baby deep fryer. On. Her. Bed. Courtesy cdn.inquisitr.com

Anyway, they either move or take a sometimes six-month (sometimes longer) trip to Houston. There they meet a doctor that operates on people their size (I think the heaviest person I have seen was approaching (if not already there) 1,000 pounds. The doctor takes no excuses. He gives them a meal plan and says he will only do gastric bypass if they lose fifty pounds on their own. A lot of the people aren’t serious and are just looking for a quick fix.

If he does approve their surgery, their lives have the potential to change dramatically. Some people change nothing about their behavior and get heavier than they were before, but lots keep it off and are so much happier.

Overall my takeaway of the show is this: no excuses. You get out of the doctor’s instructions what you put into them. Which is pretty much like life in general, so, technically, the show is more than junk food for the mind. It’s taking one situation—a situation most of us will never, ever experience, let alone understand—and, if you allow it, showing how (1) these people really aren’t different from you and me, and (2) the only one responsible for your success—or failure—is you.

Mom and I are hooked. Dad gives us grief, but it is on The Learning Channel, after all.

Need An Idea For Mother’s Day?

I have always been fascinated by how people in other countries live. What do they eat? How do they dress? What are their homes like?

How does someone like me—someone who is disabled—live in, say, Africa? I Googled it. What I found could bring me to tears. The disabled in developing countries literally have to crawl on the ground. Those are the “lucky” ones. Others face a life in bed.

You could say knowing that ignited a passion.

With all of my searches of how to help, one charity kept popping up: Free Wheelchair Mission.

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They provide low-cost wheelchairs to people in developing countries at no cost to them. Wheelchair recipients have been able to go to school, open businesses, and just provide for their families.

It’s unfathomable, but something I don’t think twice about is so out of reach to 100 million people around the globe.

Haven’t shopped for Mother’s Day yet? Consider making a donation in Mom’s name.

I am going to do all I can do to help. I hope you click on this link to learn more.

14 Reasons I Want to be Royal

I want to begin by saying Happy 90th Birthday to Queen Elizabeth.

Now, reasons I want to be Royal:

 

I would get to travel all over the world. For free.

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courtesy tumblr

I could play with the royal corgis.

 

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courtesy pinterest

Two words: Personal stylist.

 

 

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courtesy pinterest

Cute hats—I mean, fascinators.

 

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courtesy chicagotheaterbeat.com

Millions of people all around the globe would love me. I suppose it’s improper of me to call them my subjects, but that’s what they would be.

 

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courtesy adage.com

I would get to be in People.

 

Personal chef.

 

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courtesy pinterest

When I got married it would practically be a national holiday.

 

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courtesy popsugar.com

Same with having a baby.

 

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courtesy wikipedia.org

If I got sick of where I was living, there are lots of other palaces I could go.

 

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courtesy purplesailcreative.com

MY ACCENT!!

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I could make announcements on the royal balcony.

 

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courtesy expressco.uk

Have fun with George and Charlotte.

 

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courtesy eonline.com

Have designers vying for me to wear their clothes.

 

 

Now

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Miss it? Don’t worry–it’ll be back next summer.

This post uses the photo challenge title “Now” as inspiration, but I’m obviously not using photography.

 

At this moment, here I sit in the kitchen, the house in disarray as the Christmas decorations come down. I hear the zipping of the bag containing our tree. Yes, it’s fake, something my 29-year-old sister is horrified at.

 

This time was always sad as a kid. Christmas was really over. Eleven more months, which was an eternity. Now, it’s kind of like, “The show’s over, back to your lives!” Almost a relief to return to normal.

 

Time flies at the age of 32. Although it’s dreary and bitter cold, by Southern California standards, it could be May 2015—seven months ago. Or at least it seems like it could be May. Or should be May.

 

So, with that logic, I guess Christmas will be back next summer, fake tree and all.

 

Image courtesy of historybuff.com