Paula Deen and the Politically Correct Police

I've been thinking again. (Dangerous, I know.) Unless you live under a rock, you know that Paula Deen's made some news recently for actions in her distant past.

It got me to thinking.

I've said some cuss words (a lot of them if you ask Lilly to judge it) and told some borderline inappropriate jokes and laughed at some very inappropriate jokes (one right in the middle of a funeral where I had to fake a coughing spell and actually get up and leave).

Makes me wonder; are they gonna ask me to leave church?  Or my job teaching at the Christian school? Cause I'm telling you that I actually did the thing I'm accused of. I am completely guilty and would have to own it in a court of law.

And I didn't do some of that stuff 25 years ago. Like, I did it last week. I almost hit another car and when my full cup of coffee bounced off the dash and all over me, I yelled out a really choice three-dollar kind of word that I hope my kids don't even know yet (wishful thinking). See, I'd heard my daddy say it, oh, like a million times growing up, so it's up in that grey matter and just dying for an opportunity to get some airtime. Garbage in/garbage out and all of that. I said it. I meant it when I said it. I admit that I said it.

And that ain't all, Folks.

Until I was a collegiate puppet troupe member of Kids on the Block at UAB, (read more here: http://www.kotb.com/kob2.htg/style.html)  a group that taught elementary school-aged kids about interacting with disabled people, I called friends "retard" as an endearing way of meaning "stupid" or "silly". Today, I punish my children if they say that, because I know better. It really never occurred to me until then. If you put me on the stand I'd have to say that yes, at some time in the long ago, I used that word. And I meant it.

We don't use the n-word EVER in our home. When my kids were young they didn't even know there was a way to refer to black people and called them "brown people" (which could have been horrifyingly offensive if you didn't know they were trying to describe someone on a television show to me and they didn't know the words "black" or "African American" even existed), because we were so careful to not make personal observations. Today I would punish my children if they said that, because they know better. It's completely inappropriate. But I might have heard a joke or two with the word salted over the punchline and laughed. And if you haven't done the same, then you've laughed at a cracker or spic or kike or raghead joke in the same vein. Or made the joke yourself. Remember, you're under oath. Don't perjure yourself.

So, what about you? Want to be convicted for stuff you said and did twenty-five years ago?  I vote a hearty 'no thank you' on my ballot. I'm not sure that it's even remotely fair, because if we all really examine ourselves, we've said a lot of nasty things that we don't want played back in a court of law for everyone to hear. I know I have anyway.

In college, I used to sing this Jimmy Buffet song out loud to myself when I was at a loss for words. It was a peppy little ditty that went like this:

"My head hurts. My feet stink, and I don't love Jesus. It really was that kind of morning. It really was that kind of night. I try to tell myself that my condition is improving, but if I don't die by Thursday I'll be rollin' Friday night."

I didn't even flinch when I hummed that tune as an unbeliever. Now it makes me feel sick at my stomach. But if you asked me to swear on a Bible, yeah, I sang it. And yeah, I meant it. Guilty. And now I call myself a Christian. A disciple. A follower. Not a fan. I have to be covered in the Blood every single day just to get along. How about you? Hey, Paula Deen? I'm just like you, Sugar. And so is everyone else. They just didn't go under oath and have to swear to it in front of the entire world.

No Aqua

So, I've been seeing all of my Facebook Homies posting about eliminating caffeine and carbonated beverages from their diets. All of that positive energy makes me want to Do Better.

First, let me say that I have always been anti-diet drinks. (I think that anything artificial should be looked at through squinty, suspicious eyes just on principle.) But we drink our fair share of Cokes and Dr. Peppers in Johnsonville, which I acknowledge isn't all that healthy, but our big drink of choice is by far homemade sweet tea. Not Milo's sweet, but awfully close to the bubble.

Eight people go through a gallon and a half to two gallons a day. No joke. I've tried torquing back on the sugar, but then no one drinks it and pours a Coke instead.

It's a dilemma, because of this dirty little secret. We HATE water. All of us across the board. I think it tastes like metal. Like braces. Like aluminum foil in my mouth. A little like dirt.

The Husband only drinks it right after exercise.

The Shorties hardly ever drink it. Stomach flu passing through might be the only shot water has at being consumed in our house.

I will only drink it if it's the last resort and even then it better have a piece of fruit floating in it.

But then came along the Crystal Light. And the Mio. Now we ALL drink the "water". Well, with 'flave-lor-ing' as the Little Flower used to all it. Pink Lemonade, Lemon Lime, Berry, Raspberry Lemonade, etc. It's gone, gone, gone. Even with the flav-lor-ing, it counts as a water (why tea doesn't, I have no idea, but whatever). So, my conclusion is this. Johnsons are moved by trickery. We don't want the water unless it's got something sweet in it.

Made me think about my Christian life. How many times have I had to trick myself into something that's obviously right and good for me? What a scary thought. Maybe I ought to be Doing Better in some other areas of my life, not just the water consumption. Maybe you too.

Older

Friend one, Nay-nuh, Big E, The Bonus Kid, Friend two

So, The Little Flower turned 9 and the Wonder Twins turned 13. Whoa. The Bonus Child has come to stay with us for a little longer than normal making it three teens and two elementary-aged shorties. Next year it'll be three teens, one middle schooler, and one elementary student.

Where do the time go?

I took the girls and their bestest friends to the beach for four days/three nights. We ran like crazy; beach, pool, movies, shopping, eating, caking. It was all good.

The downside to this little excursion is that my dad went. Not that my dad actually WENT, but I'm 43 and still receive a lecture ever seven minutes flat. That's all the man can endure before advising me on something. Hello? I'm old now. I'm good. I've sort of got this right now, so hold your thoughts.

Proofs that Perhaps I Am Not the Worst Mother of All Time:

• All of my babies were successful this school year. 
• All of my babies are in the recommended weight and height range.
• They are all up-to-date on vaccinations.
• No cavities.
• We all play sports and are active.
• We all do something creative: art, voice, piano, guitar. 
• We all do chores.
• We all have responsibilities.
• We have best friends. 
• We are active in church and in church work. (Not all saved yet, we're still praying for TLF, but the year is young and VBS is right around the corner.) 

Pretty much, we're all well-rounded kiddos. We are all older. Including me, Daddy. Including me.

Wisdom/Insanity: Same/Same

I take these spells where I blog and then go months without blogging.

Simply put, I get bored.

Or undone.

Or too busy.

Or have nothing positive to say (which is mostly truth).

Or I have too much to say when I ought to keep my mouth shut.

It's a fine line between what you want to say and what you ought to say. (Everyone on Facebook ought to have a class before being able to post.)

So, I usually opt to say nothing at all, (which is what They tell me a wise person should do).

I've almost severed my tongue with the effort on numerous occasions.

Thus, no blog.

And, now that I can feel the soft tissue of my mouth again, I'll probably crank up, which may or may not be wisdom. ;-)

Love,
Charlotte

Day 11: Youts.

Field trip with 11-12th grades.

Youth movie night.

Today I am thankful for youth. I'm always amazed that the substitute list at the school is packed with people willing to teach and work with elementary school-aged kids, but only a very small group are willing to work with teens. It's completely backwards.

Babies and grade school aged kids stink. Like I mean literally stink. They have accidents. They throw up on you. They have snotty noses. They want to touch you all of the time and get in your lap. They are disgusting. (I've never one time had a teenager try to climb into my lap or snot on me.) Not to mention, little kids are needy in a way that only a new puppy can be. They can't communicate well and frequently meltdown when they can't get a point across. You cannot reason with them and mostly they only respond to direct threats. It's like Thunderdome or Blade Runner. It's loud, crazy, pandemonium punctuated by screaming and irrational behavior. I can't imagine that ANYONE thinks elementary school is easier than high school. You must all be crazy.

I'm a youth person all the way. So, today, day eleven of 30 Days of Thankful, I'm thankful for teenagers.

CCA Volleyball Girls

A) The teens I get to teach at school. 
Yes, they make me insane. (They can honestly respond 'likewise, Mrs. C'.) But it's all good. I wouldn't trade jobs with anyone on the entire planet. I am happy to get up in the morning and go to work, and not many people get to say that. I love the kids. I love their tedium--like what kinds of shoes they find popular and what movies they are going to see this weekend. I like hearing about their lives and dreams and fears.

I like it when they have a song they want to share with me or a story from the bonfire/bowling night/first date. I love it when a kid "gets it" and things click in English class and suddenly that hand is flying up in the air to identify the gerund or explain why Hester's situation was so jacked up. It's like magic. I'm thankful that they trust me. It's also some kind of awesome to put on the Shakespeare play every year. I look around sometimes and can't believe that this gets to be my life.

Entire High School on field trip to see a play.

B) The kids I get to be involved with through church. They sort of have to put up with me, since I'm the preacher's wife, but I'm glad that they do it so graciously. The Husband began his career in youth ministry, so we have a soft spot for that particular people group (although I'm not EVER going camping again as long a I live).

Having my girls involved in the youth for the first time is interesting. They are growing up so fast, and the fact that they still want me to go to youth movie night with them is something that I'm not taking for granted or wasting. Yes, I'll go anywhere you'll still let me for as long as you'll let me. I'll drive, make brownies, let everyone come to my house to sleep over, you name it, just please, daughters, let me be involved in your lives.

Spirit week 7th and 8th grade girls

I can't imagine everyone not rushing forward to volunteer to host D-NOW weekends (when you fill up your basement, rec room, living room floor with youth who stay two nights and do Bible Study and local activities)...the fact that we have to beg folks to open their homes is baffling to me.

The kids are polite and kind and funny and eager and excited to be there. They clean up after themselves and say "yes, ma'am" and "no, ma'am". Sure, they are throwing Cheetos at each other and jumping on the trampoline at midnight, but have we grown so old that we've forgotten the joy of midnight on a trampoline or flashlight tag or raiding the girl's/boy's camp? It's a sad state of affairs if you've never thrown food at someone either. You need to get out more.

C) The kids I get to know through my daughters' friendships and sports. My girls are involved in volleyball (Big E is on the Volleyball Team; Naynuh is the team manager), basketball (Naynuh), and cheer (both wondertwins), so we get to know a lot of different kids over the course of a season. Yes, it's exhausting driving all over the free world to see your kids participate in sports. It's also expensive (gas and food and uniforms and shoes, etc.) and draining, and the little ones miss you during that time, but what an amazing chance to give your kids! They get to learn about hard work and sacrifice. They get to practice teamwork and putting others first and serving a group. They get to run and sweat and be physical. They get to learn about winning and losing gracefully. I can't imagine not pushing my kids to participate in sports and activities. They round you out as a human being.

Working with young people is an honor and a privilege. More people should try it. You might be surprised at how rewarding it is.

Macbeth Cast 2012--entire high school CCA

Day Five: Vote

I hate election time.

1.) My husband's head might explode following the results. He is a news junkie and a political maniac. He'll be hopping around here tomorrow night like it's five seconds on the clock in the Alabama vs. Auburn game with Auburn on the one yard line, fourth down, down by six. Like that sort of spastic.

2.) I have absolutely uncompromising beliefs that I am hesitant to express, because it might alienate people we are trying to minister to (and it is FAR more important to win people to Christ than to win a political argument). See, I disagree with just about everyone, because the Bible is my yardstick and if it doesn't agree with Scripture, I'm against it. There's no room for compromise. But people have to get with the Holy Spirit before they understand all of that business, or else it's just white noise. So, better for salvation first, then politics later.

3.) The talking heads argue themselves purple back and forth without anything solid to back up opinion. Until  actual numbers are in tomorrow, it's anyone's game. No one knows until the fat lady sings.


But Steve Johnson said something powerful from the pulpit Sunday that puts this entire deal into perspective for me as a Christian: it doesn't really matter who wins tomorrow, because

God is still God, and He is on the Throne.

And with that said, Vote, because it is your privilege as an American, won through blood, sacrifice, and death.

Vote because it is the very least you can do to express your gratitude for living in a free nation.

Vote because it is the most pure expression of what it means to be an American.

Vote because you can.

30 Days of Thankful Day Four: Funny Kids

This is what "fun" actually looks like

The Little Flower wanted to know if army ants wear helmets. When told that it was highly unlikely, she followed up with, "Well, how do they know they are in the Army then?"

She then asked me what "fun" is. I said she'd know it when she saw it. A few minutes later her brother slipped and fell over some of her toys. She laughed, looked up and me and said, still giggling, "Fun. I soooo get it now."

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The Number One Son is still in wrist braces from his playground accident. He's on that line where he can take them off for most activities, but any kind of contact game/sport or activity where he might hurt his arms, and they have to go back on for the duration. So, I caught him riding his bike 400 mph down a huge hill behind our house--no helmet, no braces. As I'm screaming at him, he shakes his head at me and says, "But, Mom, bike riding isn't a 'contact sport'."


"Not until your body makes contact with the concrete," I yell back.

His response? "If I hit the concrete going that fast, I'm not sure that the braces are actually going to matter--I'm probably going to need 9-1-1 either way."

Ahem.

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The Fashionista painted her nails in this really cool 'dripping paint' technique she learned off of Pinterest I mean You Tube. (I stand corrected.)  Everyone at school wanted to know how to do it, and several girls even copied the technique. E-2 immediately took that elaborate nail art off and did something else. When I asked her what was the point of all of that work and setting a trend only to take it off she responded, "Exactly. I am SETTING the trend, Mother, not following it."

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For Halloween E2 went as Hair Girl--Saving the  world
from bad hair days one head at a time. She's wearing a sweater
cape and a belt with hair styling equipment hanging off of it.

Naynuh is participating in cheer and basketball this season. That's not so funny yet, but you just hang in there and I promise you, it will be.