Sticks and Stones and My Scattered Thoughts

I have been called many things over the years. Do I care? No. I really don’t care what people think of me. Ok, that’s not entirely true. I want people to like me. I admit it. We all want to be liked, don’t we? We all want people to accept us for who we are and appreciate what we have to say. So, yeah. I want people to like me. But here’s the catch: If they DON’T like me, I am not going to change to make them happy. If they don’t like me, their problem. I don’t care. They probably aren’t worth the grief they will bring into my life anyway.

I have been accused many times of being immature. Really? Is it because I laugh at myself daily? Is it because I’m unafraid to look like a dork in front of my kids or grand kids? Or is it just the ability to laugh….a lot…..at all the things that happen in life? I try to find humor in everyday things. It just makes life easier.

I think being mature is taking responsibility for your own actions and short-comings. I am a very responsible person. I am not a risk taker. I will not ever jeopardize someone else’s safety. I try to be a good friend, sister, mother, daughter, grandmother, aunt. I try to help others when I can. I will give advice sometimes, sometimes unsolicited advice, but I’m usually trying to help find a solution to a problem. I will admit when I’m wrong but if I believe I’m right, I will stand my ground until someone proves me wrong. If these things make me immature, then so be it.

Some say I’m judgmental. Aren’t we all judgmental to a certain degree? I mean, how do you choose your friends? You make a simple judgment based on what you know about the person. You ask yourself, “Is this someone I want to be friends with?” I don’t know about you, but I have no tolerance for drug addicts and criminals. They ruin other people’s lives and think nothing of it. We all judge others. We all judged Casey Anthony for the murdering monster she is. I have no tolerance for baby killers. When a religious leader preaches against homosexuality and then he, himself, is caught in a homosexual situation, I want to climb the highest mountain and scream! I have no tolerance for hypocrites! What about the habitual liar, who lies so swiftly and competently that he actually believes his own lies? No tolerance. We all have an opinion of certain people, we all have first impressions, we ALL pass judgments. I don’t think I am morally superior to anyone else. It’s just that I, personally, prefer to keep only people in my life that won’t cause me any more drama than need be!

Not too long ago, I was told that a certain person considered me to be ‘stupid.’ Well, let me just say to this certain person, I’m not stupid. I may not have a fancy degree and I really don’t know much about politics or religion. I don’t know anything about cars except how to drive it, fill it with gas, work all the gadgets inside and wash it. I don’t have a legal mind, I’m not a math wiz, a carpenter or a doctor…. but I’m not stupid and I sure as heck know when you’re lying to me! I don’t say anything to your face but I still know you’re lying! I choose not to say anything because I like that you think you’ve pulled the wool over my eyes! 

Last year, I was told that I know nothing about relationships and that’s why I’m alone. Uh. No. First, I’m single by choice. After a failed relationship with the father of my children, I chose to make my children my priority. After all, I was a single parent and I wanted my kids to grow up with a good, strong foundation. Second, I know enough about relationships to know what I want and what I don’t want…and I sure wouldn’t want the likes of some narcissistic jerk in my life…been there, done that.

My daughter use to tell me when she was a teenager that I was overprotective of her and her brother. Protective, yes. Overprotective, NO. I always knew where my kids were, what they were doing and who they were with. If they wanted to go to a friend’s house, I talked to the parents first. If they wanted to invite a friend over, I also talked to the parents. I wanted to make sure we were all on the same page. I wanted to make sure they had adult supervision at all times. I was involved in the kids’ school activities and volunteered in their classrooms when I didn’t have to work. I helped my kids with their homework. We went on picnics, to the zoo, museums and went on nature hikes. We spent a lot of time together. I taught them, fed them, nursed them when they were ill, read to them, played with them. I protected them. Isn’t that what parents are suppose to do??

The one thing I have heard about me that I have to agree with, is that I complain a lot. Yeah. I do. I complain when it’s too cold because it makes my arthritis pain worse. I complain when someone makes a mess in the kitchen and doesn’t clean it up. (What am I? The maid?) I complain about the pipes breaking when it freezes and I can’t take my morning shower. I complain when the phone rings before I even get up in the morning. I complain when something in the house needs to be repaired, which happens quite a lot these days. (Old house.) I complain when one of the cats nearly trips me. I guess I do complain a lot. It’s something I must work on, I admit. I will try and catch myself from complaining so much in the future. Instead I’ll just laugh and make jokes so someone can accuse me of being immature!!

Author: Deb / Being Aunt Debbie

Single, mother of 2 adult children and grandmother to 3 beautiful grandchildren! I crochet, make jewelry, hand-poured soaps, and what ever else I can get into! I love Medieval History, castles, all things Celtic. I love animals, rock music, Mexican food, writing, learning, and good movies.

Leave a Reply

Fill in your details below or click an icon to log in:

WordPress.com Logo

You are commenting using your WordPress.com account. Log Out / Change )

Twitter picture

You are commenting using your Twitter account. Log Out / Change )

Facebook photo

You are commenting using your Facebook account. Log Out / Change )

Google+ photo

You are commenting using your Google+ account. Log Out / Change )

Connecting to %s