Officially Priceless

Visit to the ATM – check

Both cars with a full tank of gas – check

Bags of ice water in the freezer – check

All possible projectile objects in garage – check

Wood, propane tanks and water – check

Laundry washed, all sheets changed and beds made (not sure what this has to do with hurricane preparedness, but I was on a roll) – check

Tubs and coolers filled with fresh water – check

Waiting for Hurricane Sandy, Frankenstorm, SuperStorm with my family all under one roof and the churning out meal after meal – Priceless.

To all of my friends on the East Coast in the path of Hurricane Sandy, I wish you safe keep for the next 48 hours.

 

 

When in Doubt, Fill Bags with Ice

Que 5 o’clock news theme music….

It begins slowly and then picks up steam every half day or so.  “Welcome to the special edition of……”  I am sure you are familiar with this newscast.

And next week’s storm is following the classic storm/media coverage pattern.  After several days of “maybes and could-ifs”, the storm has already been labeled “Frankenstorm” and its final path has yet to even be predicted!

Really…. who is the lucky person that is given permission to name these storms?  Do they use this newscast theme music as inspiration!?!

On a serious note, I share with you an important tip I learned from our last storm. Begin filling zip lock freezer bags with ice from your own ice machine.  Make two or three a day and place them in your freezer.  Should the power fail, the bags will help keep your foods cold.  Should they eventually melt, they will serve as fresh clean water.

Most importantly, be smart and heed all warnings that are posted….even from the news casts with cheese-mo theme music!

 

 

Politics. Politics. Politics.

The beauty of this country, by far, is freedom of speech – that is until you have to read it on a daily basis on the various social media platforms.  None the less, those with whom I agree with could afford to post their thoughts in a less offensive way and those that I disagree with, I commend you for your stance, but please stop shoving it down my throat.

And the beauty of social media, by far,  is that you can tune out all the political banter by ignoring social media until after the election.  But what happens when this enters your home, at your dinner table by your own child?

“Mommy, I am going to vote for Obama because Romney is going to start a war with all of the countries,”  announces my oldest during dinner.

Interesting.

With Hubby away on business, this conversation was solely mine to have.  So where do I begin?

On Google, of course.

We quickly learn that a fellow classmate imparted this fact and my daughter sought (and rightfully so) to base her decision entirely on what her friend told her.  So together with my daughter, we sat at my laptop in search of  site that broke down the differences between the two candidates explained in a way that my 3rd grader could understand…..all between studying for spelling test, completing math homeworking, having dinner and running carpool to CCD.

Needless to say, we did not find much by way of a site geared for young children.  Not wanting to influence my daughter with my political views,  I did my best to dumb down, on children’s terms, the sites which did distinguish between the two candidates.  We made some notes.  We discussed why voting is so important.  We came to an informed decision.

And just when I was about to pat myself of the back for a job well done, my daughter realized her vote did not count.

“I have to be 18!?!?!?  That stinks!”

Ain’t THAT the truth!

Send Me On May Way

Mid 1990′s.  In College.

I was young.  I was full of dreams. I was learning to be me.  Making decisions both smart and stupid.

Fast forward to present day.   It has been ten-plus years since my college days, a lifetime really.

Driving to work today, I saw me – that hopeful college girl crossing the street as I was stopped at a light.

You see, my office is in the same town in where I attended college.  On the radio in my car played Send Me on My Way – a favorite back in my college days.

For those brief few moments, I saw me cross my car and we made eye contact.  I wanted to tell me that all that worry, all those mistakes, all those right decisions paid off.  I wanted to tell me, thank you.

But me smiled and sent me on my way as the light turned green.

Earning a Tougher Skin

When I began this blog almost two years ago, I waited weeks before I finally hit the “publish” button.  And weeks before that, I struggled with the concept of even developing a blog.  But with the encouragement of my best friend and the support of my Hubby, I let me fingers and thoughts loose and became a “Blogger.”

Over the course of the two years, I have made great strides with not only my writing, but my reach.  My blogs have appeared on various online publications and my Twitter and Facebook fan pages have also developed a healthy following.  Most often, readers agree with my perspective and other times they don’t.  Regardless of their opinions, I am always thankful for their comments.  In fact, I prided myself on “thinking” I had a tough skin when it came to comments that disagreed with my perspective.  However, that all changed one morning last week.

Last week, I posted a previously published blog on my local Patch.com website.  This blog first appeared on this site and I thought to share it with the Patch.com readers because I “assumed” the subject matter was simple and relatable and the concept harmless.

Boy was I in for a shock.

No sooner had the post been published than a comment appeared:

“I’m sorry CC I disagree,,,Mothers belong at home with the family, not in bars. My mom was never carefree or a a silly girl. Grow up.” – BobDee

I could almost tolerate his opinion that “Mothers shouldn’t be in bars”.  Yes, it is a ridiculous statement especially since NO WHERE in the blog did I write that the I was in a bar.  I simply point out three reasons why Ladies Nights Out are important and I make mention in just one brief statement that we enjoy wine.  What I took great offense in was his comment to “grow up”. 

Giving your opinion is one thing.  I admire those who comment on articles and I appreciate that they think enough of what I wrote to take the time to share their thoughts with me.  What I cannot tolerate are offensive and abusive remarks.  And there lies the difference between an educated comment and downright obnoxious comment.

I will be honest in saying I was very hurt by Mr. BobDee’s comment.  He not only missed the entire point of the post, but he was arrogant to assume I was drinking in a bar.  I composed at least 15 responses, but sent not one of them because suddenly, more comments began pouring in.

A few comments agreed with Mr. BobDee.

A few comments also missed the point of the blog.

A few comments sparred amongst each other.

A few comments were so raunchy they were removed.

A few comments triggered a different subject matter all-together.

And a few comments validated the point of what I wrote.

In the end, I never replied to one single comment – including Mr. BobDee.  I felt there really was no need to give my two cents especially when the thread took on a life of its own.  I said what I had to say in my blog and I stand by my words.  I do hope, however, that everyone who commented will think more about the subject matter.  I also hope they will read and re-read their comment to ensure they are sharing an educated comment and not an obnoxious one.  Perhaps at the expense of earning my tougher skin, someone will have learned something or taken something good from this.

Because in the end, isn’t that what blogging is all about?

…And for the record, thank you Mr.BobDee for not comprehending my post.