Teens Who Harm Others
When I was a teen I did the teen things. I wasn’t a terrible brat but still, I was a teen. I…
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Teens Who Harm Others
When I was a teen I did the teen things. I wasn’t a terrible brat but still, I was a teen. I remember drinking my first taste of wine standing in an alley with my best friend while trick-or treating. Yes, I still did the get the treat things in my teens. I really didn’t go to the door, instead I was a teen stepping out of my guide lines set by my parents.
When I was old enough to drive I would put on a Halloween mask and drive up and down the streets in our city. I thought it was so much fun getting the looks from older drivers.
I once went to Fort Wayne with some friends. I wasn’t ever to go out-of-town and I was also to tell my parents where I was going. When we do something we know is wrong it always comes back to bite us in the ass, and it did.
I was at the busy intersection at a stop light and it was dark. The laughter from inside the car immediately stopped when all of a sudden steam came barging out from under the hood of the car. I had broken a hose.
I immediately froze and became serious as I was trying to figure out a kind way to call my parents and tell them what happened and where I was. Luck was on my side as one of the guys knew enough about cars to temporarily fix it until I got back home.
So I did the teen thing but never anything bad. So you can imagine how angry I was at the local news on TV tonight when a family who loved to over-decorate outdoors for Christmas. When they woke up this morning they were so sad when they discovered that teens had ripped apart so many of those expensive decorations.
Stomping on lights, smashing Santa and Frosty the Snowman. Tearing lights out of the trees and busting them. What a very expensive teen episode that was. I felt so bad for that family.
They enjoyed having people drive by and being entertained by their hundreds of lights only to have them blown out by teen pranks. I don’t get it. What was the ending goal that was on the positive side?
Why weren’t those teens home going to bed so they could get up and go to work? I was an ornery teen but I also knew if I did something this horrendous, my parents would punish me so badly it would be weeks before I was let out of the house.
I won’t try to place blame here on anyone. I will just say that the word respect for other people has been tossed out the window in the past few years. What a sad situation this was.
Here is a similar video of what that house looked like that got torn apart.
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The Brightest Star
The lonely soldier boy looked up at the stars. It was Christmas night. He was cold and had nowhere…
The Brightest Star
The lonely soldier boy looked up at the stars. It was Christmas night. He was cold and had nowhere to go. He had served his country well. He had stripes on his sleeves and was proud.
His intention was to come home and marry his girl. He had been planning on marrying her and then the letter arrived. His country needed him. But while he was gone, she got bored and found the companionship of another.
When he knocked on her door the day before he learned from her mother that she had up and moved in with some guy. Through tears she expressed how sorry she was. The lonely soldier boy walked a way with his head hung low and his hands in his pockets.
He went back to his home but when the door opened the only welcome he received was the squeaky door. You see while he was gone, his parents had been killed in a car accident.
Something went a miss and he didn’t learn about it until way after the funeral was over. When he finally read the letter that was given to him all it said was that his parents had been killed and the home he grew up in was his.
Silence rang throughout his head. He put his hands over his ears. He didn’t want to hear anymore. He wanted it to stop, but it kept ringing and getting louder and louder. He buried his head in his hands and he wept.
How could this have happened? He lost his girl, he lost his parents, and yet he had done what was right and served his country well. He walked from room to room touching trinkets and remembering back to earlier times.
He got his duffel bag and started placing ever so carefully pieces that reminded him of happier times. He packed some clothes. He walked out into the night air. Pulling his coat closer to his body he walked.
No where in particular, just walked. He ended up at the cemetery where his parents had two markers staring at him. He sat down on the snowy ground and pulling the shiny star out of his bag, he placed it in front of his parents names.
He cried out to his parents begging them for answers. He thought how easy it would be to kill his own self so he could be closer to those he loved. He stared down at the cold ground waiting for some kind of signal that they had heard him.
Hearing nothing he stared off into the distance. Far ahead he saw a beam of light shining down towards the earth. His eyes followed the path and when he looked up in the skies he saw the brightest star he had ever seen.
Like the shepherds followed the star when Jesus was born, the lonely soldier boy followed the beam of light. He walked for what was ever and soon he was standing in the most beautiful house he had ever seen.
When his eyes adjusted and he was able to make out objects, he saw his parents. Beside them were members of his extended family. They came to him and enveloped him with love and hugs.
God had heard his cries, and now he was not the lonely soldier boy any longer. He was in the haven of love, the kingdom of all heavens and he smiled once again.
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My Parents Rules
Excuse me while I tell you about what I was thinking while sitting in the lady’s room on the throne. I know, right? We get some of our best ideas in those little rooms.
I actually was thinking about how Al had struggled all morning with breathing. Nothing looks any different on him, but listening, you can hear changes. Well that thought drifted off to Mom and Dad.
I was wondering how they would feel about the care I give Al. I was going back in time and remembering all the “rules of life” they instilled in us kids.
Now many years later I look at myself and see that I didn’t listen to everything they said.
Some of the rules I can remember getting ground into my head were;
1. Don’t eat with your elbows on the table.
Well I do have excellent manners when I dine out, but here at home, I don’t care as much. Who sees me? Only Al and Rhino and they don’t care as long as I am here.
2. Bedtime is at 10pm. I don’t care what others do, at this house these are my rules.
Well, I have tried to listen to those rules. Only because they are in my mind still, but it doesn’t work. How many times have you went to bed at the proper time and did nothing but lay there and toss and turn? In the morning you feel like you have been ran over by a truck. You feel like crap. What I have learned for me is, go to bed when I am tired, well as long as Al is in bed. If I lose or gain sleep time, my body will generally let me make it up the next evening.
3. Get up early The early bird gets the worm, the late riser gets nothing and shows how lazy he/she is.
I don’t get this at all. I never liked getting up early. Even now I don’t get up as early as Mom and Dad would have. Especially on the weekends. They were always early risers and I didn’t see any worm beds growing in our house.
4. You must put in a hard day’s work every day. You will be happier.
Well I am going to be brutally honest here. Mental work can be quite heavy also. Caring for Al, there are times I would like to lay down and rest before lunch time. Now that I am a little older naps are much more exciting to me then when I was told I had to take one every day; up until the day I started Kindergarten.
5. Don’t chew with your mouth open.
Now this rule I have stuck to. I don’t chew with my mouth open because I don’t want my delicacies falling out and being wasted. Besides, to me, I don’t think it looks appealing.
6. Don’t play across the street with those kids. We don’t know them.
Now here, I don’t agree totally. Yes, there are some warning signs that are obvious to the eye that I may not want to allow my kids to wander the neighborhood. But my Mom and Dad had different reasons and I won’t go into that, as it would be another whole post that I would not care to write about.
I believe that we are a nation under one ceiling. We have different colors, cultures, habits and religions. But God made each of us in his image. I have many friends who are not white like me. I love learning about culture, and I find people in general have at the very least, one fascinating thing about them. All we have to do is look. People in general are loving and want to be loved, just like you and me.
With the times changing it is a pity that now we have to be more careful about viewing the world for what it really is and not what we hope it is. There are more dangers now than when I was being taught by my parents. Let me give you a wide example.
When I was a kid, on Halloween night, paper bags, not plastic, flimsy sacks were used for products. I would take an empty one along with my brother and we would trick-or-treat the whole neighborhood. There was no watching for porch lights on. There were no razors in apples, or sticks of gum with poison in them. It was a fun and innocent night for kids and when we came home our bags were full of goodies. Many time I was eating while trick-or-treating. I didn’t have to wait until I got home and have my candy inspected by parents or x-ray machines.
7. Don’t speak back and never argue with your mate.
Now this one is probably my worst follower in my own life. My parents taught me children are to be seen and not heard. Children should be quiet and sit on chairs. It is no wonder when I was in elementary school I got bad marks on talking out loud. I was finally freed from silence.
I do not agree with not speaking up. It is what has made me so afraid today of voicing my opinions. It has made me sick at heart when I let people run all over me. Forcing their opinions on me when I have my own individual thoughts. I was not allowed to be creative. Thankfully, through writing I am healing on this issue.
I don’t believe in arguing either. I used to, don’t get me wrong. If I thought I was right, I was sticking to it no matter what. Now I have learned, it’s alright to voice my thoughts, and for my mate to say his. When each has spoken a decision to meet in the middle is agreed upon. Two adults conversing like two adults. I would never want a mate to bully me. Beating me, cussing at me, is not the way to treat another human. It is alright to agree to disagree.
So all in all I took what my parents taught me and used what felt right for me. I think they did a pretty good job. Thanks Mom and Dad. for caring enough to teach me.
Related articles
- The Power Of Choices For Children (kidzedge.com)
- Top Tips My Parents Taught Me Top Tips My Parents Taught Me (chatonsworld.blogspot.com)
- Chapter 17 (terry1954.wordpress.com)
- Being that Single Mom: The Fly I Want to Squash (yesiamthatsinglemom.wordpress.com)
- A Very PK Halloween (amomentwiththeking.wordpress.com)
- Gearing up (theresilientchildbookproject.wordpress.com)
- Safety first this Halloween (Video) (examiner.com)
- Cue The Rant: If You Have Children, Read This Carefully (jessicasimien.com)
- This is Why Productive People Always Wake Up So Early (lifehack.org)
- Early riser? (makeyourmarkonlife.com)
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Daily Prompt; We Can Be Taught
http://dailypost.wordpress.com/2013/09/21/daily-prompt-greatness/#like-38549
Photographers, artists, poets: show us GREATNESS.
I was in the third grade. I was a chatterbox. When I look back at past report cards for elementary grades I can see all the boxes checked for talking too much. I couldn’t help it I guess. I had lots to say.
Now that I am much older I know that even back then I was craving what I was lacking at home. I needed to be validated. I wanted to be noticed. I suppose that even now I still have some of those feelings that will pop up now and then.
My teacher, was a short, plump woman, who wore stockings and pumps and a print dress every single day. Her hair was orange/red. She had more freckles on her face and arms than anyone I had ever known at that time. When she smiled around her eyes formed wrinkles and she reminded me back then of Mrs. Clause with those tiny eyes that danced.
She moved me several times for talking. I sat in the front rows. I was moved to the back rows. I can remember standing out in the hall a couple of times. I also tattled. I think people tattle for attention.
Tattling draws attention. Whether good or bad we need it, we think.
She was a strict teacher and molded me into what I am today.
I didn’t like her much at the time, but she helped me to start the process that I was worthy. She helped me see that bad attention was not the only choice I had in drawing others to me.
For the lack of confidence part, I had to teach myself through tough lessons in life. Good friends sitting with me and talking. Tears being poured, and accepting. Yes, this is the toughest teaching job of all. Accepting myself for who I am.
I am never going to be any other than who I am. The TV media can destroy us. It makes us ponder on what else is out there. Why can’t I look or talk, or have what she/he has. The bottom line is God made me who I am for a reason. I am no one special in the outer world. But I am a writer, a good mother, and a woman who has a right to stand here living on this land.
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Following The Bumpy Road
She was walking down the road. Gravel biting at her face as the winds picked up. 15-year-old Dawn had a messy life at home. Her mom was rarely home. She spent most of her time with the opening and closing hours at the local bar. Her dad always looked at her in a way that gave Dawn the creeps. An older brother who had run a way a few years back she never heard from.
For the most part Dawn had raised herself for the last several years. She got up for school with her alarm. She fixed a bowl of cereal and packed her own lunches. Dawn liked school. Not for the fact that she was shaping her life for adulthood; but because she heard noise. Kids running to and from classes. Teachers mumbling out of books.
She had a couple of friends but nothing really she could call close. It was fall and decorations were seen everywhere. Hanging ghosts from trees. Pumpkins sitting on porches.
Orange lights hanging from windows giving off a spooky glow.
She was almost to school one day when a girl about her age hopped off her front porch and slid up beside Dawn, feet in rhythm, she walked beside her.
” What’s your name? Mine is Molly. We just moved here. This is my first day of school. You know I just hate school. My parents ride my ass all the time about how I need an education.”
Molly pulled out a pack of cigarettes from her back pocket. Lighting one up and making an O ring she offered one to Dawn who turned her down.
” So what did you say your name was?”
” I didn’t but it is Dawn.”
” Dawn huh, nice name I guess. Dawn and Molly, sounds good together.”
The two girls walked until they came within a block of school. She didn’t know what planet this chick was from but hey, someone was talking to her. Dawn stopped behind the school trash dumpsters. Molly stopped too and Dawn whispered, ” I think I will take one of the cigarettes if you still want to offer one.”
” Sure girlfriend, what are best friends for?”
Molly lit it for her and Dawn swallowed hard in order not to show this new friend she had never tried smoking before. Molly slapped her on the back and laughed. ” Don’t worry kid, it gets easier with each one.”
The two stood there while Dawn forced each puff. squashing it out with her feet the two went inside the school doors.
After school was over Molly was waiting right in the same spot the two had split. Going behind the trash cans Molly offered another cigarette which Dawn took. The two girls inhaled and chatted about the day. The girls walked home. Molly did most of the talking and Dawn listened.
It was obvious Molly had lived a more exciting life than Dawn had. They parted ways and once home Dawn went to the fridge and got herself a pop and some crackers. She went to her room and closed the door. Laying on her bed she ate and thought about everything Molly had said.
She wished she lived this kind of life. Molly smoked and had even tried pot. She even had sex already. Dawn had not even had a serious boyfriend yet. She fell asleep dreaming of how her life could change now that she knew Molly.
Day after day the two girls met. They went to school and went home. They started spending weekends together, and Molly even taught Dawn how to skip school. After all, there was so much more to life than just school, Molly would say.
Molly made friends easily. She introduced them to Dawn and soon she was popular. This crowd she was running with wasn’t the kind your mother dreamed of you being around. More drugs were introduced. Drinking on the weekends became a regular thing.
It wasn’t long at all before skipping school became a once a week thing. Then it was two, then three, graduating up to a week one time. The school was calling but no one was answering.
One time when Dawn was smoking a joint in her room the doorbell rang. She peeked out her window. It was a cop. Dawn’s heart began to race. What should she do? She quickly called her friend and was instructed to get a small bag together quick. Quietly slide out the back door and high tail it over to her house.
It took less than five minutes and the house was empty. When Dawn walked upon the porch Molly was standing there waiting for her with her own back pack. The two said nothing. They started walking not looking back.
Dawn’s mind was asking so many questions. There was a little fear making her stomach hurt. But she wasn’t going to get the shit kicked out of her for not going to school. She had no choice but to follow or go back.
The two had made it to the edge of town when a car pulled up next to them. Gravel biting them in the face as the winds picked up. Three guys were inside. Smiling they told the girls to hop in. Molly did just this and Dawn followed.
Who I am 