I'm a Good Friend... I Am!!

I find myself trying really hard to be friends with my friends who don't seem to want to be my friend.

Know what I'm talking about?

For example. I moved to New York about 3 years ago and since then a LOT of my friends have been to the city; either on vacations, for business, or for school. Every time one of them posts on Facebook that they are coming I am always sure to comment about getting together with them. I thought that was just what friends do.

"Hey! Let's do lunch."
"We should grab a drink while you're here."
"Yay! I miss you. Let's meet up. I can show you around."

Friends just do that, right? It's not.. like... desperate... right?

But then, I don't ever see them while they are in New York.

What I DO see is them posting things around the city, the sights they are visiting, and the things they are eating. It really chaps my ass when they post complaints or struggles in New York and I think CALL ME AND I'LL HELP YOU!!

Of my friends who have come to New York the only ones I've ever actually seen were ones who contacted me LONG before posting on Facebook that they were coming.

--Maybe this is a Facebook issue?--

The bottom line is that I'm feeling a little sad today thinking about my friends who have traveled across country, over oceans, or maybe just through multiple states and are so close, yet they don''t even call and squeeze me in for coffee?

But also maybe I do it, too?

I know that whenever I go back to Utah I always see as many people as I can but there are still people who will contact me and I don't have time for them. Do we all just have too many friends? Are we all terrible to each other? Can we not just make time to get a cupcake together?

What do you guys think about this? Maybe I'm feeling a little blue and missing my friends. Maybe I don't think my friends love me as much as I love them.

Hey, you guys, I love you!!

Every Teenager is a Pyromancer

All teenagers seem to go through a 'Fireworks are Fun!' stage. Much to the chagrin of general society. I remember when my brother went through this stage; way too young and IN THE HOUSE!

I never went through this rite-of-passage myself, but only because I was left traumatized by all of my friends' pyrotechnic antics and my school's team participation obligations. After what I went through there I was left stripped of any curiosity I might have had.

Before I get into the good story-- The true reason why you've come-- I'll share a few examples to illustrate my point.

First of all, every summer the wrestling team that I was associated with-- first as a wrestler and then as a stat girl once Title 9 had it's way with the sporting system-- would set up a firework stand to raise money for the team. Everyone was required to work there. Everyone. It was like a non-paid retail job. And we all know about working in retail.

Then there was the summer that my friends went up to Wyoming and brought down illegal fireworks toset off in the desert. To be fair, desert is everywhere in Utah so it wasn't really that crazy of a trek and there were plenty of firework carcases already at the site proving we weren't alone in our endeavors. BUT STILL!! I was completely freaked out by the ordeal just KNOWING that at any moment the po-po (Utah slang?) was going to arrest us. Probably not arrest but they would definitely give us a firm talking to and that was totally worse!

Plus there was the exploding bucket incident that I was supposed to be impressed by. I don't want to talk about it.

Now lets jump ahead to the summer of my junior year. My boyfriend, his sister and his friends showed me this "cool" thing they inventedf. It consisted of lighting a ground bloom firework and then THROWING IT IN SOMEONE'S GARBAGE CAN.

So. Cool.

As we ran around the neighborhood doing this to 'hilarious' prank to all the people in our church-- we were SO cool-- I couldn't help but thinking that this was going to start a fire in some random trash bin. If you'll notice I said "thinking" not "saying". I wanted my super cool boyfriend to think that I was super cool too. So I kept my mouth shut and ran around with him.

When we exhausted ourselves of our highly civilized antics it was off to Sconecutter for a frozen ice cream treat. When it proved that none of our "friends" working there were going to give us free milkshakes we went out back to finish off our stash of Bloomers. The entire arsenal of our leftover supply...

And you all know what happened next.

We ran inside to get some complimentary cups of water. We splashed those tiny thimbles on the blaze and stepped back astonished that it was still raging. After our third trip inside Sconecutter the manager began to catch on to our mischief.

Later, when we were talking to the police, the story went down as this; we were just outside minding our own business when some punk teenagers ran by, threw a lit firework in the trash can and then ran away.

They bought it.

Pathetic.

I'm still uneasy about fireworks, I'm still friends with that ex-boyfriend's sister-- He and I did not so much work out-- and my record has remained free of any arson charges.

Looking back I can see that all of these incidents have to do with immature teenage boys and my desire to tag along and not be such a goddamn prude. but I'm a prude goddamn it and I don't want any trouble with the law!!

*Having a sparkler sendoff at my wedding made me incredibly anxious. Fireworks are illegal in ALL desert states. Obviously.*

Still to this day I don't get the excitement over fireworks. When invited to 4th of July celebrations-- especially when festivities are posed with "We bought SO MANY fireworks!!'-- I must decline.

No thank you. Fireworks. No.

I'm Realy Good With Animals... And Children

Somehow a terrible magic is created when I am mixed with children and animals. Like a chemistry experiment that will always explode in your face.

These chemicals don't mix y'all!

Let me illustrate my point with another delightful example. (Then seriously go back and click that link because I traumatized that poor kid.)

When I worked in Utah with the teenage girls we would have to drive around in those huge 15 passenger vans to accommodate all of the people. So imagine if you will: I'm driving, my employee is sitting in the seat next to me and behind me are TEN girls between the ages of 13 and 17.

And then I HIT A BIRD.

Smack! Right on my windshield.

The entire van erupted in screams. I was completely shocked but the girls went nuts. (As teenage girls are wont to do.) They lost it. Everyone was yelling out advice. Girls were crying. And this poor little bird was stuck in my windshield wiper.

Why I didn't stop the car and get it off, I have no idea. I panicked. I slowed my speed to about 10 mph but I didn't stop. That just didn't seem to make sense to me.

But you know what DID make sense?

Turning on the windshield wipers of course. That will surely dislodge the creature from it's ensnarement.

So I turned it on.

That pathetic little thing streaked right across the glass to a chorus of frantic screams behind me. Then, as the wipers came back down to rest the crumple of a bird was dragged back down.

The girls lost it.

Finally my employee pulled herself together enough to say, "Everyone stop screaming. Savannah, just stop driving."

Oh, right.

So I stopped the car. Everyone stopped screaming. And the bird...

The bird made a little hop to right itself and then flew away.

The bird was unscathed.

The girls however...

They have the image burned into their minds of Tweety being smeared across the window.

I'm just the worst.

YOLFO

Alternate Title: YOLO: You're Doing It Wrong

This new YOLO craze is... Special... I mean when you think about it, it's just a justification for people to do the wild and crazy shit they are ALREADY doing anyway. No one has heard the term YOLO and been like, 'Oh man!! I didn't know. Let's get out there and  jump off of a building on my bike'

I have to say that this trend is annoying. Not just because it's a bunch of frat boys in basketball shorts and loafers screaming out YOLO as they make risky life decisions but because, if you truly are making choices based on the fact that you only live once, YOU'RE DOING IT WRONG!!!

If this is in actuality the ONLY life I have then I sure as hell don't want to quickly kill myself doing a mindless stunt. I want to spend it LIVING!!

And so as I've contemplated this special trend I compiled a list of some things I personally want to make sure I do in my one life to live.

1) Appreciate More: I need to take the time to thank people more. And more genuinely. I need to be grateful for what I have.

Only when you are truly grateful will you feel like what you have is enough and more.

2) Love Deeply: I want to always make sure the people I love know it. I want them to feel it and never question how much they truly mean to me.

3) Explore: I have always made traveling a priority. I want to see the world but I also need to make sure I explore where I live too. Do you know that I lived in Utah for 27 years and I never once went to Sundance Film Festival? I feel like that is a huge opportunity lost. I will make sure I don't let that happen again.

4) Learn: Never. Stop. Learning.

5) Serve: A life lived in service is a life truly full. No one has ever helped someone else and said, "man I sure regret that." I often get so bogged down with the things I'm doing that I forget to make time for others. And you know, when you make the time for other people, all those things I thought were bogging me seem to be not nearly as oppressive as they were.

The bottom line is that I want to be the best person I can be.

Because you know, You Only Live Fucking Once.

Emotional Booty-Call

You know those friends who only call when things are great? They only want to hang out when you both are happy and in good moods. You aren't going to share your deepest feelings with them and they'll never bail you out of a tough situation, but they are there for a good time. A fair-weather-friend, we call them.

This is the opposite of that.

This is the friend who you never hear from unless they are in crisis. They only call for advice or to tell you a drama-laden story. They only come over to drink your wine and complain. You are only invited over to their house in times of chaos so that you can help them out. Or if they need an extra hand during their move.

This is an Emotional Booty Call.

We all have these friends and we may not even know it. You may think you have an amazing relationship because they turn to you in times of need and you know all their deep personal trials.

These people are just sucking your stability out of you!

How do you spot an EBCer? Well, do you dread someone's phone call above all others? Knowing that when they call you will be sucked in to some sort of drama for at least a half hour. Do you know someone whose life always seems to be in peril? They may have wonderful and fun things going on in their life but to YOU they are always in crisis because that is all you ever hear about.

Traditional culprits are Ex's and chicks who love drama.

Cut ties with this person. You don't need that!

I mean, unless you like it. Some people like being their friends' "rock" and in that case, carry on.

But personally, if you can't hear about my bad day or call because something great is happening, I don't have time for that.

My previous profession turned my expertise into a regular EBC for MANY of my friends. I spent a LONG time thinking I had great friends who turned to me when they were at their lowest. I must have been important to them if they trusted me with all of their deepest secrets and darkest times. But the fact was, they were never there when I needed something and it got a little exhausting to have them in my life; sucking out my stability.

Never again.

It got old and I had to weed them out.

What about you? Do any of you have any Emotional Booty Call stories?

*I want to thank my lovely friend Holly for introducing me to this term. There has never been a more fitting way to describe some people we know*

Knowing The Signs of Addiction

Honesty really jives with me so I'm going to let it all hang out. In a series I'm calling 'There Are No Mistakes' I'll get real about my past, my pain and my non-mistakes. Let's all grow together, shall we?
I don't claim to be any sort of drug awareness expert but when I was trying to figure out what the hell was wrong with my ex-husband, Jedd, I wish I had had an article like this to help me know what I was dealing with.

Here are 5 of the most predominant signs I absolutely should have recognized, in no particular order, along with stories of WHAT THE FUCK!!

Picking: A common occurrence with one who is abusing their pain medication (or heroin, meth, and other drugs) is that they will pick or scratch at themselves. Sometimes this results in small scars and scabs on their face and arms. Sometimes, more...
WTF: About a year in to our marriage Tedd began scratching at the top of his head. It started off semi-harmless and quickly morphed into an uncontrollable habit that left him with a giant crater in the top of his head. He picked it so fervently that it never healed and hair struggled to grow there.( I wonder if he's been able to grow hair back in that spot.) He also pulled out all of his side-burns while we were watching TV one evening. Just pulled them all right out.

Lying: I know that it is hard to know someone is lying. If it were easy, no one would do it. Here's a little tip to know when someone is lying to your naive, I-believe-you-because-you're-my-spouse, face: If it looks like a fish, sounds like a fish, and FEELS like a fish, It's a fucking fish! When someone is completely open and honest with you, you can feel that. But when something feels "fishy", it's time to admit to yourself that you are being lied to.
WTF: I came home from work for lunch unexpectedly one afternoon (my fault) to find that he was also home. What a lovely surprise, right? I knocked on the bathroom door and announced my excitement that we were both home in the middle of the day. I heard a flush, then the water run and then he opened the door. I reached out out for a hug and a smooch but his face was all wet and he pulled away. His excuse was that he just washed his face. It's cool, I've kissed him with a wet face before. Water isn't an anti-kissing agent. Nope, he wouldn't do it. He didn't want to inconvenience me by transferring droplets onto my face. The whole thing felt rather fishy to me but I sat on it. My loving husband didn't have anything to hide, right? No reason not to kiss me, right? I later learned that he had been smoking weed in our bathroom and THAT is what he had flushed.

***Since this dumpster-fire marriage I have learned to call people on any supposed bull shit right away. "Oh, I'm sorry, did I make this awkward by confronting your lie just now? Don't lie to me then how'bout?!"***

Constantly not feeling well: Being constantly sick or "out of sorts" can be a sigh of drug abuse. When one is high in a situation where drug use is inappropriate (work, school, etc) this person may feign illness as an excuse as to why they aren't acting themselves. Other times the withdrawals will cause actual physical illness. Stomach ache, diarrhea, vomiting, cold sweats and other flu-like symptoms are all effects of withdrawal.
WTF: It seems like I spent 4 of my 5 years of marriage cancelling plans because my husband was "sick". Every trip we planned was ruined by being bound to the hotel room or cancelled all together. Sedd was either high and impossible to deal with or bed-ridden with illness as he withdrew. It was really fun y'all. When I told people we were getting a divorce there were a number of insensitive bastards that asked if it was because I was tired of taking care of a sick husband. I was saddened to feel that, after all of the excellent and patient care I gave him, people thought so little of me. No!! If I had ACTUALLY had a chronically ill husband I wouldn't have left. I left because HE WAS A FUCKING DRUG ADDICT!

Running out of medication early: This one is fairly straight forward. If one is given a 30 day supply of Oxycontin, that medication is supposed to last 30 days. If it doesn't, there is a problem. Maybe that can even be overlooked in extenuating circumstances, but if it happens every month and that person is going to the pharmacy to get next month's refill early, THAT cannot be overlooked.
WTF: Kedd had developed a relationship with a pharmacist in our area who knew he had a monthly prescription for all sorts of narcotics and could be convinced to refill his prescriptions early. I didn't really know what was happening until Ledd became too sick to do his own dirty work one month. From deaths own hands he asked me to go get it filled early. I did NOT want to. I didn't know much about prescription medication abuse but I did know that this was illegal. And also, it felt fishy as fuck! A large fight ensued and the bottom line was that by not helping him I wasn't doing my holy-union-bound duty to take care of him in his pathetic state. I sat in the car in front of my neighborhood grocery store and cried for a half hour before I finally went in and spoke to his filthy counterpart in crime. The memory of that transaction still makes me feel a little dirty.

Keeping everyone separate: Drug addicts try to keep everyone separate. If the people in his life don't have contact, they cant talk, can't share notes, and cant figure him out.
WTF: I didn't know any of his friends. That isn't normal in such a serious relationship. Maybe I wouldn't have liked them and we wouldn't have hung out, but that wasn't even possible because I didn't know them. And the ones I did know were under the impression that I hated them. Why? Because he told them I hated them so that they wouldn't talk to me. He tried doing this the opposite way once and told me that his friend Shamgela didn't like me. Well, I made that bitch cookies right away and took them to her at work, where we learned that there had been a misunderstanding (imagine that?). She and I started to become friends. Then Dedd brought home weed brownies and said they were hers, knowing my loathing for the substance. He did the same thing with his parents, telling us both viscous lies about the other to make our relationship so damaged that we preferred not to speak during family get-togethers.
Love, trust, and blind acceptance for my spouse could only go so far. At some point, I had to see the signs for what they were. And then run away. Quickly. I hope some of these are helpful to anyone else trying to figure the fishy stuff in their relationship.

Does anyone else have more signs that others should be aware of? Anyone have tips for shedding the naivete?

It took me 5 years post-divorce to finally blog about this but your comments have been so encouraging and the whole process has been very cathartic. Thank you all!!

Fishes are Food

I debated calling this post: I'm Going to be a Great Mom, but I don't know what the appropriate font is to express sarcasm.

I firmly believe that kids need to know the truth at all times. The stork/when-two-people-love-each-other-very-much nonsense baffles me, animals do not go to a magical farm, I struggle with the Jolly Fat Man, and don't even get me started on this Tooth Fairy business.

Now, I will be the first to admit that I do not, in fact, have children and shouldn't formulate any opinions or protocol for these situations. It may be a measure of protection parents use to shield their children from the horrors of a world without compensation for the loss of excess teeth. I imagine its much like taking your old car into the Tear-a-Part auto place and receiving a check for $20?

I still don't get it.

So when kids ask me questions, I tell them the truth.

Which brings me to Norman. He was my beloved turtle of 7 years before I sent him to live in my uncles pond (not an analogy for him dying). He is still alive and thriving. My uncle sends me pictures and updates on Norman and his posterity.

Norman, being a water turtle, ate goldfish. He was the cheapest pet a person could own. For $1.00, I bought him 10 goldfish that lasted 2 weeks. $2.00 a month was all it took to care for the little guy. If only I could find a dog that was so laid back.

On one goldfish-shopping occasion I stood in the checkout line, baggy full of goldfish in hand, as a small child admired my booty (as in pirate, not the beautiful specimen I carry on my backside)

"That's a lot of fish you have there!" He exclaimed in delight. I'm sure he was imagining how amazing my house must be to need so many aquatic creatures to fill it. "What are you going to do with all of those fish?"

I took pause, looked at the boy's father as if seeking permission, (not like that would have changed my answer) leaned over to look the boy directly in the eye and said, "I'm going to feed them to my turtle" (I may or may not have added an unnecessarily menacing tone. I'm the devil.)

The boy looked accosted and mortified, "No! You need to get them their own tank so they can swim around!" He looked on the verge of tears.

I was unaffected by his emotion, "But then my turtle won't have anything to eat." I looked up at his father to make sure I hadn't crossed a line.I can traumatize my own children, but I should probably leave others alone.

Father smiled in approval at my Circle of Life lesson.

Whew!

After a bit more discussion of fishes and their role in my turtles life the boy seemed satisfied and appeased.

Before leaving he waved at my bag of fish, saluting them at their noble duty, and wished my turtle luck.

My parenting skills are definitely in question, but I make an excellent Life Lessons teacher?

I debated calling this post 'I'm Going to be a Great Mom' but I don't know what the appropriate font is to express sarcasm.

I firmly believe that kids need to know the truth at all times. The stork/when-two-people-love-each-other-very-much nonsense baffles me, animals do not go to a magical farm, I struggle with the Jolly Fat Man, and don't even get me started on this Tooth Fairy business.

Now, I will be the first to admit that I do not, in fact, have children and shouldn't formulate any opinions or protocol for these situations. It may be a measure of protection parents use to shield their children from the horrors of a world without compensation for the loss of excess teeth. I imagine its much like taking your old car into the Tear-a-Part auto place and receiving a check for $20?

I still don't get it.

So when kids ask me questions, I tell them the truth.

Which brings me to Norman. He was my beloved turtle of 7 years before I sent him to live in my uncles pond (not an analogy for him dying). He is still alive and thriving. My uncle sends me pictures and updates on Norman and his posterity.

Norman, being a water turtle, ate goldfish. He was the cheapest pet a person could own. For $1.00, I bought him 10 goldfish that lasted 2 weeks. $2.00 a month was all it took to care for the little guy. If only I could find a dog that was so laid back.

On one goldfish-shopping occasion I stood in the checkout line, baggy full of goldfish in hand, as a small child admired my booty (as in pirate, not the beautiful specimen I carry on my backside)

"That's a lot of fish you have there!" He exclaimed in delight. I'm sure he was imagining how amazing my house must be to need so many aquatic creatures to fill it. "What are you going to do with all of those fish?"

I took pause, looked at the boy's father as if seeking permission, (not like that would have changed my answer) leaned over to look the boy directly in the eye and said, "I'm going to feed them to my turtle" (I may or may not have added an unnecessarily menacing tone. I'm the devil.)

The boy looked accosted and mortified, "No! You need to get them their own tank so they can swim around!" He looked on the verge of tears.

I was unaffected by his emotion, "But then my turtle won't have anything to eat." I looked up at his father to make sure I hadn't crossed a line.I can traumatize my own children, but I should probably leave others alone.

Father smiled in approval at my Circle of Life lesson.

Whew!

After a bit more discussion of fishes and their role in my turtles life the boy seemed satisfied and appeased.

Before leaving he waved at my bag of fish, saluting them at their noble duty, and wished my turtle luck.

My parenting skills are definitely in question, but I make an excellent Life Lessons teacher.

- See more at: http://savvy-pants.com/blog/2011/02/11/keepin-it-real#sthash.ncqPyevk.dpuf

I debated calling this post 'I'm Going to be a Great Mom' but I don't know what the appropriate font is to express sarcasm.

I firmly believe that kids need to know the truth at all times. The stork/when-two-people-love-each-other-very-much nonsense baffles me, animals do not go to a magical farm, I struggle with the Jolly Fat Man, and don't even get me started on this Tooth Fairy business.

Now, I will be the first to admit that I do not, in fact, have children and shouldn't formulate any opinions or protocol for these situations. It may be a measure of protection parents use to shield their children from the horrors of a world without compensation for the loss of excess teeth. I imagine its much like taking your old car into the Tear-a-Part auto place and receiving a check for $20?

I still don't get it.

So when kids ask me questions, I tell them the truth.

Which brings me to Norman. He was my beloved turtle of 7 years before I sent him to live in my uncles pond (not an analogy for him dying). He is still alive and thriving. My uncle sends me pictures and updates on Norman and his posterity.

Norman, being a water turtle, ate goldfish. He was the cheapest pet a person could own. For $1.00, I bought him 10 goldfish that lasted 2 weeks. $2.00 a month was all it took to care for the little guy. If only I could find a dog that was so laid back.

On one goldfish-shopping occasion I stood in the checkout line, baggy full of goldfish in hand, as a small child admired my booty (as in pirate, not the beautiful specimen I carry on my backside)

"That's a lot of fish you have there!" He exclaimed in delight. I'm sure he was imagining how amazing my house must be to need so many aquatic creatures to fill it. "What are you going to do with all of those fish?"

I took pause, looked at the boy's father as if seeking permission, (not like that would have changed my answer) leaned over to look the boy directly in the eye and said, "I'm going to feed them to my turtle" (I may or may not have added an unnecessarily menacing tone. I'm the devil.)

The boy looked accosted and mortified, "No! You need to get them their own tank so they can swim around!" He looked on the verge of tears.

I was unaffected by his emotion, "But then my turtle won't have anything to eat." I looked up at his father to make sure I hadn't crossed a line.I can traumatize my own children, but I should probably leave others alone.

Father smiled in approval at my Circle of Life lesson.

Whew!

After a bit more discussion of fishes and their role in my turtles life the boy seemed satisfied and appeased.

Before leaving he waved at my bag of fish, saluting them at their noble duty, and wished my turtle luck.

My parenting skills are definitely in question, but I make an excellent Life Lessons teacher.

- See more at: http://savvy-pants.com/blog/2011/02/11/keepin-it-real#sthash.ncqPyevk.dpuf

I debated calling this post 'I'm Going to be a Great Mom' but I don't know what the appropriate font is to express sarcasm.

I firmly believe that kids need to know the truth at all times. The stork/when-two-people-love-each-other-very-much nonsense baffles me, animals do not go to a magical farm, I struggle with the Jolly Fat Man, and don't even get me started on this Tooth Fairy business.

Now, I will be the first to admit that I do not, in fact, have children and shouldn't formulate any opinions or protocol for these situations. It may be a measure of protection parents use to shield their children from the horrors of a world without compensation for the loss of excess teeth. I imagine its much like taking your old car into the Tear-a-Part auto place and receiving a check for $20?

I still don't get it.

So when kids ask me questions, I tell them the truth.

Which brings me to Norman. He was my beloved turtle of 7 years before I sent him to live in my uncles pond (not an analogy for him dying). He is still alive and thriving. My uncle sends me pictures and updates on Norman and his posterity.

Norman, being a water turtle, ate goldfish. He was the cheapest pet a person could own. For $1.00, I bought him 10 goldfish that lasted 2 weeks. $2.00 a month was all it took to care for the little guy. If only I could find a dog that was so laid back.

On one goldfish-shopping occasion I stood in the checkout line, baggy full of goldfish in hand, as a small child admired my booty (as in pirate, not the beautiful specimen I carry on my backside)

"That's a lot of fish you have there!" He exclaimed in delight. I'm sure he was imagining how amazing my house must be to need so many aquatic creatures to fill it. "What are you going to do with all of those fish?"

I took pause, looked at the boy's father as if seeking permission, (not like that would have changed my answer) leaned over to look the boy directly in the eye and said, "I'm going to feed them to my turtle" (I may or may not have added an unnecessarily menacing tone. I'm the devil.)

The boy looked accosted and mortified, "No! You need to get them their own tank so they can swim around!" He looked on the verge of tears.

I was unaffected by his emotion, "But then my turtle won't have anything to eat." I looked up at his father to make sure I hadn't crossed a line.I can traumatize my own children, but I should probably leave others alone.

Father smiled in approval at my Circle of Life lesson.

Whew!

After a bit more discussion of fishes and their role in my turtles life the boy seemed satisfied and appeased.

Before leaving he waved at my bag of fish, saluting them at their noble duty, and wished my turtle luck.

My parenting skills are definitely in question, but I make an excellent Life Lessons teacher.

- See more at: http://savvy-pants.com/blog/2011/02/11/keepin-it-real#sthash.ncqPyevk.dpuf

I debated calling this post 'I'm Going to be a Great Mom' but I don't know what the appropriate font is to express sarcasm.

I firmly believe that kids need to know the truth at all times. The stork/when-two-people-love-each-other-very-much nonsense baffles me, animals do not go to a magical farm, I struggle with the Jolly Fat Man, and don't even get me started on this Tooth Fairy business.

Now, I will be the first to admit that I do not, in fact, have children and shouldn't formulate any opinions or protocol for these situations. It may be a measure of protection parents use to shield their children from the horrors of a world without compensation for the loss of excess teeth. I imagine its much like taking your old car into the Tear-a-Part auto place and receiving a check for $20?

I still don't get it.

So when kids ask me questions, I tell them the truth.

Which brings me to Norman. He was my beloved turtle of 7 years before I sent him to live in my uncles pond (not an analogy for him dying). He is still alive and thriving. My uncle sends me pictures and updates on Norman and his posterity.

Norman, being a water turtle, ate goldfish. He was the cheapest pet a person could own. For $1.00, I bought him 10 goldfish that lasted 2 weeks. $2.00 a month was all it took to care for the little guy. If only I could find a dog that was so laid back.

On one goldfish-shopping occasion I stood in the checkout line, baggy full of goldfish in hand, as a small child admired my booty (as in pirate, not the beautiful specimen I carry on my backside)

"That's a lot of fish you have there!" He exclaimed in delight. I'm sure he was imagining how amazing my house must be to need so many aquatic creatures to fill it. "What are you going to do with all of those fish?"

I took pause, looked at the boy's father as if seeking permission, (not like that would have changed my answer) leaned over to look the boy directly in the eye and said, "I'm going to feed them to my turtle" (I may or may not have added an unnecessarily menacing tone. I'm the devil.)

The boy looked accosted and mortified, "No! You need to get them their own tank so they can swim around!" He looked on the verge of tears.

I was unaffected by his emotion, "But then my turtle won't have anything to eat." I looked up at his father to make sure I hadn't crossed a line.I can traumatize my own children, but I should probably leave others alone.

Father smiled in approval at my Circle of Life lesson.

Whew!

After a bit more discussion of fishes and their role in my turtles life the boy seemed satisfied and appeased.

Before leaving he waved at my bag of fish, saluting them at their noble duty, and wished my turtle luck.

My parenting skills are definitely in question, but I make an excellent Life Lessons teacher.

- See more at: http://savvy-pants.com/blog/2011/02/11/keepin-it-real#sthash.ncqPyevk.dpuf

I debated calling this post 'I'm Going to be a Great Mom' but I don't know what the appropriate font is to express sarcasm.

I firmly believe that kids need to know the truth at all times. The stork/when-two-people-love-each-other-very-much nonsense baffles me, animals do not go to a magical farm, I struggle with the Jolly Fat Man, and don't even get me started on this Tooth Fairy business.

Now, I will be the first to admit that I do not, in fact, have children and shouldn't formulate any opinions or protocol for these situations. It may be a measure of protection parents use to shield their children from the horrors of a world without compensation for the loss of excess teeth. I imagine its much like taking your old car into the Tear-a-Part auto place and receiving a check for $20?

I still don't get it.

So when kids ask me questions, I tell them the truth.

Which brings me to Norman. He was my beloved turtle of 7 years before I sent him to live in my uncles pond (not an analogy for him dying). He is still alive and thriving. My uncle sends me pictures and updates on Norman and his posterity.

Norman, being a water turtle, ate goldfish. He was the cheapest pet a person could own. For $1.00, I bought him 10 goldfish that lasted 2 weeks. $2.00 a month was all it took to care for the little guy. If only I could find a dog that was so laid back.

On one goldfish-shopping occasion I stood in the checkout line, baggy full of goldfish in hand, as a small child admired my booty (as in pirate, not the beautiful specimen I carry on my backside)

"That's a lot of fish you have there!" He exclaimed in delight. I'm sure he was imagining how amazing my house must be to need so many aquatic creatures to fill it. "What are you going to do with all of those fish?"

I took pause, looked at the boy's father as if seeking permission, (not like that would have changed my answer) leaned over to look the boy directly in the eye and said, "I'm going to feed them to my turtle" (I may or may not have added an unnecessarily menacing tone. I'm the devil.)

The boy looked accosted and mortified, "No! You need to get them their own tank so they can swim around!" He looked on the verge of tears.

I was unaffected by his emotion, "But then my turtle won't have anything to eat." I looked up at his father to make sure I hadn't crossed a line.I can traumatize my own children, but I should probably leave others alone.

Father smiled in approval at my Circle of Life lesson.

Whew!

After a bit more discussion of fishes and their role in my turtles life the boy seemed satisfied and appeased.

Before leaving he waved at my bag of fish, saluting them at their noble duty, and wished my turtle luck.

My parenting skills are definitely in question, but I make an excellent Life Lessons teacher.

- See more at: http://savvy-pants.com/blog/2011/02/11/keepin-it-real#sthash.ncqPyevk.dpuf