Lessons From a 4-Year Old

I went camping with my family this weekend. My husband and son joined my in-laws for two nights at Turkey Run State Park. Guess who suggested this trip? Me. Yep, the city girl is the one who wanted to go camping. Amazing, I know.

We woke up Saturday and were sitting around the campfire when we heard a child crying. She was in the tent at the site next to us. I assumed she had gotten into trouble about something or she was just a cranky riser. But a minute later, I heard the mother break down into sobs as well. I looked up and saw the father holding a small dog. The dog's body was limp. We realized a few minutes later that the dog had died during the night.

I cannot imagine being on a camping trip, expecting a fantastically fun weekend, and instead awakening to see the family pet had died. We listened to the whole family grieve in their tent for ten minutes or so. It was agonizing. I saw the father gently place the dog outside the tent, and later watched the mother wrap him up in a sheet, then proceed to vomit in the woods.

But I have not yet reached my reason for writing this blog. A little later in the day, I happened to be in the restroom at the same time as the young girl who I assume to be about 4 years old and the mother. The mother was still sniffling and was red around the eyes. The little girl asked if Mommy was still sad. Mommy said yes, that she would be sad for a long time, and that was normal. That's when I heard a rule all of us should attempt to follow in life. "Well Mommy, then we have to do something happy, like go to the swimming pool or go to Chick Filet. When we get home. let's go someplace happy." How freaking adorable is that? This little girl just lost her dog, and she's trying to cheer up her mom by suggesting fast food.

What a great philosophy. When you're down, go someplace happy. Do something happy. It seems so simple, yet most of us ignore this thought. Instead, we sit and lament about how upset we are and how our life is shit and never getting better.

Be like a 4 year old. Get off your ass and get yourself some Chick Filet.

Stressin'

Life can be complicated at times. It can also be downright stressful! This past weekend I was in a wedding (congrats T and Wagon!) It was wonderful to watch two people in love commit to each other. I think they have a great chance of having a long, happy life together, too. I had tons of fun at the reception, boogying down to almost every song played. I was exhausted by midnight, but it was so worth it! When else do I have time with my husband (away from the toddler) and have a DJ at my disposal? I danced the night away and smiled every minute of it.

That was good stress. Work is another story. My students are insane. They are downright disrespectful. They will be completely defiant right to your face and think nothing of it. I remain calm in front of them, but my brain is playing movies of me slamming their foreheads into their table again and again and again. Then there's the curriculum problem I've run into. Oh, you know, the fact that there ISN'T ONE. I have never written curriculum myself, so this is all new for me. I feel like a first year teacher again. STRESS!!!

And then there is the stress that most people probably roll their eyes about. I am turning 30 in 11 days. 11 days!! I know most think nothing of their birthdays, but 30 is a big deal to me. I feel.....old. I am freaking out a bit, but I can't slow down time, so what else can I do?

So yea, I'm stressin'. Just a little. Okay, maybe a lot.

Justice!

Back in March I wrote about a young man I once had as a student at the correctional facility. He was one of the best students I had, and I praised him often. I found out in March that he held two women captive (one in 2006, one this year), raping them more than once and forcing them to withdraw money from their bank accounts. The most recent victim helped create a sketch of the kid, and they matched it up with the sketch from the previous year. They found the asshole: AUDRAIN JONES (may you rot in hell, bastard), and the police arrested him.

He plead guilty to both charges, considering they had his DNA and fingerprints. I guess he's not a total idiot. He will be sentenced on October 19th. The minimum he can receive is 20 years in prison. The max? 495 years. Finally, justice for rape victims. So many times, rape victims are painted as whores, wanting the invasion that occurred. They have to endure the pain of reliving the entire tragic event in front of their rapist, and often are let down when the jury decides the horrendous attack that will haunt them forever never happened. These two women do not have to relive this in front of others. They do not have to face a defense attorney going through their past indiscretions, nit-picking until they find some small mistake they can base their case on. These two women can rest assured that their rapist is going to jail for a long time.

And the best part? Audrain is small. He has some feminine features. And he'll be known to all the offenders as a rapist. He WILL get his in the end (yes..pun totally intended there). I hope he gets it day in and day out. That's what he deserves for thinking he could take something so pure that was not given to him. And before you ask: no, I do not feel bad for feeling this way. In a way, I feel I am being vindicated for MY rape. In a way, the bastard that took away my virginity is being punished along with Audrain. So don't ask me to feel guilty after what I have lived through.

And eye for an eye, bitch.

Touching Moment

Recently, I was witness to one of the most touching moments I know of. I am thankful to have seen this moment because it helped put my problems into perspective.

I was at the airport last weekend, returning from a family vacation. As my family passed through the waiting area, there was an older woman almost hyperventilating in anticipation. Her son was walking towards her, and as he got closer, she could not control her excitement. She shouted and then began to cry as she grabbed ahold of him and squeezed tightly. In the confusion, I had not noticed the twenty or so uniformed soldiers standing there waiting with her. Her son had finally arrived home from active duty. Everyone in the area began clapping and cheering. And of course, I teared up.

How couldn't I, really? Here was a mother, so overcome with joy that she made such loud commotion that everyone around was staring. She didn't care, and she shouldn't have. Her boy was home....safe.

This moment put my life into perspective. Sure, my husband and I have our problems, sometimes small, sometimes large. My young one has finally hit the 'terrible twos,' and at times, my annoyance level reaches heights that frighten me. But a loved one of mine is not in a war-torn country, fighting for my freedom and risking his or her life. My loved ones are all here at home, safe and sound.

I will carry the image of grateful mother and loving son with me for many years.