Tag Archives: religion

Salutations 2015

Oh! Hey there 2015! You startled me!
How are you? Five months old already? Wow. Where does the time go….
Me? Oh yeah, well, you can say I’ve been a little busy.

I don’t know if anyone told you, but I enrolled in college last summer. Adults go back to school all the time, I know, but in my case it wasn’t so much the going back thing as it was more the just going to part. I wasn’t picking up from where I left off at 19 or 20, because at 19 and 20 I didn’t believe in the future. I believed in part-time jobs, all night parties and never marrying or (shudder to think) having children. Little Niki was kind of a shithead, but we forgive her.

All these years later, my placement test slated me for college-level English and Dumb Blonde Math. About two weeks into Dumb Blonde Math I posted the following: “Quotients are welcome to shove an integer up their respective prime factorizations.” My attitude has yet to improve.

There are three remedial math classes I need to complete before tackling a mandatory pummeling in college algebra. I knocked out the first course last semester. This semester, however, I floundered hopelessly in what I believe was the equivalent of 11th grade algebra and/or Dante’s Seventh Circle of the X Y Interception of Hell. Somewhere along the way, I started to write a blog called “7F{(6u+4.2c)-13k(4M-12a+1t)+3.7h = F*ckM*th” but the title alone exhausted me and I passed out in a pool of my own dim-witted tears.

You see, I just took on too much this semester. I assumed, because I’d managed an English and Math course last semester, with an A and B respectively, that I was a not only a mega-genius but also some kind of full-time-working-mother-super-hero-lady-pants.

Which reminds me, at our marriage counselor’s office (don’t worry, we’re fine, we simply require a communication tune-up every now and then) there’s this series of mental health statements you have to rate via electronic tablet before every session. Ranging from “I feel good today,” to “I want to stab my boss in his/her yapping face hole,” – Strongly AgreeAgree; Undecided; Disagree; Strongly Disagree.
The one that never fails to amuse goes: “I feel like I have special powers.”
Yet, next time we go in for a tune-up, there will be no giggles from me. Just a reluctant admission of “Strongly Agree.”

I strongly agree that I thought I had special powers when I took on four online courses – to include Biology 100 and Dumb Blonde Math II – while still a full-time employee, still a full-time mother to a kindergartner and a 13 year old (ALL THE HORMONES), all during the months when my husband retired from a 24 year career in the military (ALL THE MID-LIFE CRISIS) and our lives changed forever. But, to my dismay, I did not manifest the necessary super human strength, and it turns out that I also need to sleep sometimes. Who knew.

Oh, guess what else? Within the framework of a self-paced online math course, it seems my individual pace is “NO.”
Intermingled with “Fuck this shit” and “I wish I were dead.”

So yes, you could say It’s been a rough five months. Far more difficult than I thought it would be, even though I’ve seen people struggle through it before. When I think of the friends and family who worked toward their degrees in similar situations, they have my eternal respect. Heroes and martyrs – all of them.

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In other news, life is good. My girls are still happy, healthy, and doing great in school, and my husband is slowly but surely navigating life as a civilian – the first step of which appears to be mandatory beard growth (which I thought I’d mind at first …but it’s kinda hot). We’re planning to move this summer. Whether that means locally in AZ or ending up on one of the coasts is, as yet, unknown. In fact, there are so many unknowns just now that if I dwell on them for long enough my chest starts pounding and it gets harder and harder to breathe so, I avoid that. I’m keeping the “future-tripping” to a minimum, and the “right now” on blast. A greatly matured yet slightly suspicious Little Niki lives on.

Also, I’m taking a break from school. Not giving up, just pausing for air. I’ll be one of the “go-backers” next year.
But, do me a favor, will you?  Please tell 2016 to be kind to me?
Thanks, 2015. You’re a peach.

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Easter: Terrifying Children with the Resurrection Story Since Zero A.D.

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Disclaimer: If you’re a devout Christian who takes offense when folks poke a little fun at Jesus (and baby Jesus, and the zombie Jesus), please skip this post. I don’t seek to offend or upset anyone in any way. I do not delight in your discomfort. But I’m possessed (
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My soon-to-be-kindergartner currently attends a Christian preschool. It came highly recommended and more attractive secular options did not present themselves when I went searching. Prior to enrollment, I’d explained that my family was non-religious (not to be confused with anti-religious, just not subscribing to, or practicing, any particular faith) and they assured me that was fine; they welcomed all faiths, beliefs and non-beliefs. And because our daughter was known to have a temper – and had once thrown a tantrum so colossal that, after 20 minutes, my husband wearily addressed her with, “The power of Christ compels you!” – we joked that maybe she could use a little Jesus. Just a little.

Over the course of her school year, however, staff changed, procedure changed, direction changed, and things got progressively more and more churchy. By Halloween we were told the children could dress up for a “fall festival” in the classroom, but only superhero, princess or animal costumes would be allowed. When I asked a staff member if it was okay for a child to dress as a bat, or a spider, so long as they didn’t cry “Hail Satan!” (which they did not think was funny), I was told, “That’s fine. Just as long as it’s not demonic or anything.”

Now, by this time my daughter was firmly engrossed in her pre-K curriculum, enjoying the hell out of her friends and teachers, and absolutely thriving. And considering I’ve been relatively happy with the staff overall, I couldn’t justify pulling her out of school just because, from time to time, a couple people said something that caused my eyes to roll heavenward (with a “Sweet Jesus, are you kidding me?”). We live in Arizona. Someone says something stupid and/or intolerant every 27 seconds. You learn to not sweat the small, silly stuff. And I didn’t. But that was before Dead Bloody Jesus.

Happy Bloody Easter! Where my eggs at?

Happy Bloody Easter! Where my eggs at?

Every day for the last several weeks my sweet five year old daughter has been coming home talking about “dead bloody Jesus.” She’s obsessed. The way all kids are obsessed with things dead and bloody; because it’s scary. “You know how Jesus got the blood on him and died? We watched two movies about it.” And, “Jesus was dead and bloody with a cross. Isn’t that sad? But we’re supposed to be happy.” And, “dead bloody Jesus” this, and “dead bloody Jesus” that. Yay Easter! Terrifying children with the resurrection story since zero A.D.

So, the other night she had a dream about Dead Bloody Jesus (of course she did) but, “It was okay! Me and my friends gave him a shot and he was all better!” And that, good sirs and madams, is indeed great news! Because I have to take this child in for immunization shots next week, and you know the old saying…….if it’s good enough for Dead Bloody Jesus…..

Happy Easter.