They have a way about them

Words, that is.  Words have a way about them.  Words are simply the vehicle of one person’s intention to another person’s reception.  But sometimes that vehicle gets a little turned around, goes through a hail storm and by the time it reaches the other person the vehicle has become unrecognizable and has lost the Intentions that were once sitting in the drivers seat.  A smart woman called this problem “communijunction” where my meaning meets your interpretation.  Oh how it is so true. 

There are always two parties involved: the communicator and the receiver.  How can something so simple become so complex?  And whose fault is it really?  The communicator or the reciever? My guess is that it is both.  or neither.  When the receiver says “well that’s not what you said” and the communicator says “that is what I said, it’s just not what you heard” where do they go from there?  It is certainly not the receiver’s fault for the way they interpret words, nor is it the communicator’s fault when the words they choose don’t convey the meaning they intended. 

I guess where either party is wrong is in the reaction to such instances.  The communicator should not get frustrated when the receiver interprets things differently.  They should try to clarify their meaning another way.  And the receiver should not get emotional based on their interpretation.  They should first ask the communicator if that is what they were really trying to say. 

But alas, this is not the way things work much of the time.  And so sometimes people get hurt.

The God Complex

Free Streaming of Consciousness

My son sent me another email.  I wonder what it is.  Maybe he is finally going to come see me and bring my granddaughter to visit her only grandmother.  Well I guess she has another grandmother but I live closer, plus I am in a nursing home and we get very lonely here.  Janice is always bringing her kids around and showing off her grandkids.  They don’t really love her though, I can tell.  That reminds me, I need to tell Janice about how my granddaughter is reading at a 3^rd grade level now.  She is so intelligent! 

Atheism

In my studies I have learned that there are two types of Atheists:

1.  One’s who believe there is no god
2.  One’s who do not believe a god exists

The distinction is small and a bit tedious, but very important to atheists.  One is a belief, the other is a lack of belief.  The first set believes that based on their research and the evidence that has been shown to them, they do not believe any of the gods presented (Christian God, Allah, Zeus, etc.) exist.  To them there is no god.  They reject god(s).  The second set does not believe in the concept of a god.  Period.  There is no such thing as a god.  Christian, Jewish, or otherwise.

My religion is Love

I’ve realized that I don’t fully understand the tenants of atheism and agnosticism as much as I would like to. I have made it a point to define my religion not by one particular denomination but rather as a mix of various spiritual beliefs that make sense to me. I don’t have one religion, I have many. I agree and disagree with parts of all the religions I have studied. For example I believe in God and Jesus Christ as the son of God, which puts me into the Christian religion. But I also believe in reincarnation and an immortal soul, which brings me towards Hinduism. But even further I believe that the body, the universe and nature are all parts of one encompassing entity, which is closer to a Taoism belief system. I also believe that the earth will help us accomplish tasks if we ask it to, much like Pagans believe.

The next step

Gabriel is officially moving to formula.  The boy is growing so fast and eating so much that quite frankly I can’t keep up.  I feel proud of the 5 1/2 months of breast milk that I gave him but my goodness I am SO READY to be done nursing.  I will miss a few things about nursing, like the bonding time we shared, or the pride I felt for being able to give him the best food on this planet for his developing body.  But I will not miss the discomfort and abuse my poor ladies have gone through.  And I won’t miss feeling like I couldn’t be away from him for more than an hour because I was his only source of food.  Some things I am looking forward to now that I can give Gabriel to a babysitter for a couple of hours:

Introducing…

My other half Ryan has decided to start his own wordpress blog. Yay! You can find him here: http://temporalaccounts.wordpress.com. I have also added him to my blogroll on the right. I am so proud of him and I can’t wait to see the intriguing things he says. Who knows, maybe this will help me understand him better…maybe…

My Moment of Clarity

Tippy toes were discovered by parents who just got the baby back to sleep even though it is way past their time to wake up but the parents want to sleep in on a Saturday morning and it is too risky to let the whole foot touch the ground and cause a creak in the floor at a time when silence is imperative.

Conversely, light switches were not invented by parents unless those parents were hard of hearing and/or had a baby who was hard of hearing.

Different

My parents got divorced when I was one.  My mom didn’t make enough money for us to have a place on our own so we lived with friends and family in the beginning.  At one point we lived with my aunt in her one room studio.  At another point we lived with my mom’s best friend and her two little girls in a one bedroom apartment.  They took shifts watching the kids so the other one could work.  We were poor, but us girls never knew it.  My dad shared custody of us but he couldn’t afford to live on his own either.  He didn’t like to bring us to the one room that he rented from somebody, so most visits with him were enjoyed at the park or beach.  But we never complained about that.  Those were the good days.  My sister and I were the happiest girls you ever saw. 

I am my own judge and jury

Okay confession time.  My husband and I have a sickening habit.  It’s gross.  I’m ashamed of it.  But it’s true.  It is the epitamy of lazy american.  I don’t want to admit to it outloud.  I think Ryan and I both kinda hoped we could keep it our dirty little secret.  We hide it from everybody.  Actually I’m pretty sure we just think we hide it from everybody, but the people who really know us know about it. 

I put the Huggies on top

I didn’t realize what a luxury grocery shopping sans kids was until I had one myself.  Having a nursing newborn at home can make shopping a little tricky since you are given only a small window of freedom to get things done.  My most recent shopping expedition was an interesting experience.  I left baby at home with daddy and raced to the grocery store to get my shopping done before baby’s next feeding.  I zipped through the aisles like a determined scavenger looking for the items I needed and ignoring the items I didn’t.  I showed amazing restraint by staying away from the brightly colored sale signs and focused on the list.  I learned to make executive decisions on every purchase.  “Do I need this?  We are running a little low but we could probably go another week.  But it’s on sale…Stop thinking and put it back.  If you needed it then you would have already put it in the cart.  Hurry up, the baby eats in T minus 45 minutes.”