The Flow of Things by Konnie Enos

I’m going to tell you the honest truth. Last night I had several ideas I could write about for my blog post. I really did. I don’t know if it was the hour (it was nearly 2 this morning) or they simply weren’t good ideas, but I couldn’t get any of them to flow.

I finally scrapped them.

Sleep. I need sleep. Then I’ll be able to think, write.

I went to bed. Then got up way too early to get my son up for school (he’s in summer school). I still had plenty of time to type up one of those ideas I had. I got him going then laid down to get some more rest.

Apparently my son, despite what he said, also got some more sleep. He missed his bus because he wasn’t looking for it.

That debacle at least got me awake. It also took me half an hour to figure out that he’d actually missed it. (I called the bus garage right away, I was on the line that long trying to find out where the bus was.)

So here I am, Wednesday morning less than half an hour before my post is supposed to go up and I’m tired from not enough sleep, plus I can’t think beyond the fact my son tried to get away with lying to me.

And to make matters worse my dear sister is complaining about how she feels every few seconds while I’m trying to organize my thoughts.

I suppose it could be worse.

I could have the rest of my family vying for my attention.

I’ve certainly been there. Trying to write and every single member of my family comes in and insists on talking to me interrupting my train of thought. But of course, I’m just on my computer, I’m not doing anything.

I could go on and on about family members who always interrupt me, who think I’m never busy and always have time since I’m ‘just on my computer’.

And now my post should already be up and I still can’t get the ideas to flow.

There are several things I should be doing.

Getting breakfast. Taking my medications.

Doing the chores I’ve been putting off, avoiding all week.

Doing the finances, because those always need done.

Getting a bath. Getting dressed. Though I doubt I’ll go anywhere today so I probably won’t do the last one.

And last of all, I could be editing my opus. I’ve actually been working on it for the last month.

In the end I just have to tackle one thing at a time and hope too many things don’t crop up to interfere with my plans. Because we all know life happens.

A child gets sick. A pet gets hurt. You run out of milk (ask Bonnie, that happens a lot around here). Someone needs a ride someplace. Or, like today, you have to write something and you can’t get a single idea to flow.

 Some days you just have to grin and bear it.

Smile. Make the day a brighter day.

Illnesses and other things by Konnie Enos

Today is supposed to be Bonnie's post, but she is laid up and unable to get on her computer long enough to type anything.

I’d promised her I’d let people know why her post wasn’t up but I ended up working on my opus all night. Yes, I do mean all night, reading and trying to edit my work in progress. I went to bed after the sun got up. I very nearly forgot. I also still need sleep. Food and my medicine would be helpful too.

I hope to see all our reader’s next week and I’m hoping Bonnie is feeling better before she has to post again.

Smile. Make the day a brighter day.

The Case Against Tickling by Konnie Enos

Okay, yesterday I found this post on Mom.me by Sandra A. Miller (posted July 11, 2016) titled “Tickling Kids is Not Okay”. Well of course I read it.

I’ve never aggressively tickled my children. In fact I’ve never so much as hugged them without their permission and I’ve never ever made them hug or kiss anyone if they didn’t want to.

There are several reason for this.

First, like this lady pointed out, aggressive tickling is abuse and bullying. It IS NOT FUN for the victim. I know. I’ve been there. You may be laughing when it is happening, but believe me it hurts when people are aggressively holding you down and poking at you. NOT FUNNY. On the other hand, I happen to like the gentle tickling my husband gives me when he is being affectionate. There is a HUGE difference between the two.

Second of all, and I believe this is most important, when you show kids by your actions that they can’t control what is done to their bodies, i.e.: they can’t stop someone from aggressively tickling them, hugging or kissing them when they don’t want it, then you show them how to be abused. As I said, I allowed my kids to say who touched them, when and where, even when they were telling me, because they learned they could control who touched their bodies. Most importantly sexual abuse starts by the predator FORCING unwanted attention on the child. If they don’t know they can tell an adult not to touch them, what are they going to do?

I mean it. This includes not forcing a child to hug or kiss a relative they either don’t see much if at all, have never met before or have shown in the past that they don’t want to be around them. Just because that person is family doesn’t mean the child has to kiss or be kissed by them.

Forcing kids to hug and or kiss adults who are veritable strangers to them simply because they are visiting family members tells them they can’t control who touches them, that adults control their bodies, creating the potential for another victim of abuse.

I grew up with abuse in many different forms and I have tried hard to raise my kids without it. That’s why I taught them they could control who touched them when, how, where and how much. I taught them good touches and bad touches, and how to tell the difference. I even taught them where their private parts are and our standards of modestly keeping them covered. I talked about our standards of saving sex for marital relations, and I continue to discuss with them how they can follow that standard. (None of them are married yet.)

My hope is that by openly talking to them, they’ll come to me when they have a question so I can impart my knowledge and beliefs to them. Then, of course, it will be up to them to decide what they will do because in the end, it’s their body. They have the controls.

But I can say I agree with Sandra A. Miller. In my house we DO NOT abuse anyone by forcing them to endure any sort of torture including NOT tickling them when they don’t want it. I’m not saying nobody in this house is ever touched when they don’t want it, but then it’s a fight, and that’s a different matter. I’m still working on that one.

Smile. Make the day a brighter day.

http://mom.me/kids/little-kid/33502-why-tickling-your-child-not-ok/

Stuff Happens by Bonnie Le Hamilton

It’s been busy week for me, or should I say us. Though honestly, in ways, I’ve had a different week than Konnie has. For starters, she isn’t the one that started out with her sciatica acting up, and having a cold, and an ear infection, all at the same time. She’s the one who arrived in town looking forward to a couple weeks of not having to tend to the needs of others only to have me barely able to get myself to and from the bathroom.

Of course stuff happens, and things rarely goes as planned, though around my place things usually go pretty quietly, and about the only mishaps happens when I trip and something falls, but its just me. At Konnie’s, just someone knocking on the door causes havoc, and the potential for a lot more, what with all those dogs running and barking.

In our writing we need to remember there is always a potential for disaster, and they can be pretty big, particularly if you add into the picture other characters to stir the potential for disaster. A single character suddenly getting saddled, if only for the day, with several children, or even animals, for whatever reason, is one disaster after another in the making.

Think stories like Mr. Popper’s Penquins. Which was very funny by the way, but it shows how this is done in the extreme. Of course, we don’t need to get into the extreme for our stories, we just need to realize that things do go wrong, and few things rarely go just as we had hoped.

Just like this past week has been more me, nothing like what I planned, not even our birthday, but I’m sure glad Konnie was here to share the ride.

Happy writing everyone.