25 septiembre 2008


thought one:

parent/child reconnection after an 8 hour separation is very interesting to a mentally unoccupied teacher's aide on duty.


some start grinning the moment their eyes find their DNA carrier-on-er.

some kids run to their parents, an eerily similar smile on their faces.

sometimes they start talking the moment they see each other. on occasion, the mom will KISS the creature. and the kid still smiles, even if the public sees. (it's still elementary.)

but sometimes, the mom's got an ear a little too busy to care about Dr. Seuss or whatever the child ate at lunch today. sometimes that cellular is so demanding that she can't even acknowledge the kids presence. well, she will unlock the door, usually.

(do i judge?!)

some parents have the leisure to come inside to walk the child out.

some pairs walk hand in hand. some parents walk a pace ahead. (it's hard to converse with somebody a pace behind you. but kids do walk so slowly...)

reminds me of going to the mall or walmart. when was the last time you saw a teenager walking in a public place arm-in-arm with (or within a meter of) his parent? in this country, i mean.

i'm the opposite of prophetic, but i hang around prophetic people, and here's what i see: the parents who can't put their phone down long enough to welcome their child into their car have tough luck ahead. [ha... "luck" my foot...]

people think teenagers are uncommunicative.

"i ask him how he's doing and all i get is 'fine.' " of couse, maybe she has asked him that ever since elementary school, and his reticence is new. but maybe it's her listening to his answer that's new...

"The precious sons of Zion,
Valuable as fine gold,
How they are regarded as clay pots,
The work of the hand of the potter!" (Lamentations 4:2)

let the one who has brought her children through adulthood unscathed throw the first stone...

i'll hush. (on that.)

thought two: of unairbrushed humanity and Facebook. a rant and a ramble.

the good life is not necessarily that one that looks great at a distance. (say, on facebook, for example, that entity ever so distant from... tangy, earthy, beautiful, priceless, SIMPLE reality)

your most actualized self might not be all that tantalyzing on a profile page. (but it's real and you're content, so let facebook be... banned.)

all the best people may not be the prettiest. (don't tell.) they might not even be the quickest, most gracious, or even relatively respectable folks.

sometimes the most beneficial life to live and people to know are those that would embarrass you most if you started running for national office, added them as your trademarkFacebook Friends or brought them home to dinner. (i guess you can' t bring your life home to dinner, so excuse that grammatical mess.)

'cause we need incorrigible people. gnarly, recalcitrant souls that they be. we need the slow. we need others to mess up. we need the unpretty!

we need the suffering.

we need the vulnerability of having an unimpressive life.

it makes us appreciate flavor and reality over preservatives and psedolife. well, flavor and reality and God.

what wondrous love is this, O my soul, O my soul, what wondrous love is this... when i'm pitiful online and off, when my friends are only slightly better [ha! no offense. i'm talking about my other friends], when my best self needs a couple thousand meters for preservation...

let me condense my rambling.

1) who God made us funny funny people to be may not impress others. but we'll be happy and so will He when we walk therein anyways.

2) we need unsightly folks to remind us of true value and also, quite honestly, to console us in our own periodic piteousness.

3) we need reality. the more the better. the more God is found in each snapshot, the best.

thought three:

~ "...sometimes the drunks would shoot their women..."

i had wondered before if there were thoughts you can't [wouldn't] think in another language. i'm beginning to lend more credence to that theory. if i heard that in English, my sensitive heart woulda just gone pompompom...

...but since it was in Spanish, i just said, "Aw, que horrible. Now, pay attention. 'Howw arrr yuuuu.' "

que me pasa!? but seriously, Spanish-speakers say some weird things, and only in retrospect do i get it...

~ "my uncle, his teacher called him at the hospital..."
"his teacher? how old is he?"
"14 or 15."

~ "and when i was a little baby, my mom called to my dad to bring my clothes and then there was this shadow that looked like a priest but then when she turned on the light it went away..."

~ "once upon a land, or whatever they say, there was this woman that drowned her kids..."

~ "and then, you know, my mom's friend, she's an exorcista..."

19 septiembre 2008

then again...

then again... sometimes kids are just annoying.

they're human, you see, and we are too. somtimes that's an annoying combination.

especially on Thursdays.

but there's coffee for that... (means of grace... means of grace...)

17 septiembre 2008

oh, yeah...

new fotos:

(i use the term "new" very loosely.)

16 septiembre 2008


i write. i seek no pulitzer. i just need more bloggish habits, and i must start somewhere.

thought one:
people who think of the species of children as noisome pestilence... possibly:

1) don't spend time around them. are opinionating based on sitcoms, stereotypes, or fellow McDonald's patrons. (nobody's at their most appealing at McDonald's) have not really conversed with them in depth or taught them anything. (most assuredly have never learned anything from a child...)

2) have to be around them in high-stress, performance-based environments.

3) were themselves annoying as children. or, perhaps better put, were perceived as annoying by their parents. perhaps they were unsociably precocious and found other children bothersome as minors.

4) don't have a good theology of children and/ or don't possess children skills. or are around the children of those who don't. (this ties to number two.)

quote from Touchstone, Sept. 2008 Editorial, S.M. Hutchens:

[Parents whose children are "damaging, demanding, disorderly, and ungrateful"] "have usually brought it upon themselves.

Assuming the superior knowledge of their own more evolved generation, they are easily seduced by the Spirit of the Age, who has discouraged traditional parental wisdom and undermined its authority at every turn.

Their offspring may be expected to become [...] burdensome and unenjoyable company..."

* * * *

now i opinionate (more):

everyone has the responsibility to invest in younger generations. bah, that sounds inflated.

let me put it this way: according to my one and most educational psychology class in college (oh, how sweet the past tense sounds) humans feel pretty darn crummy in their later years if they have not significantly benefitted the upcoming generation.

we're relational; we're eternal. all our relationships are not timed eternally, however, which causes a certain tension when you start thinking about death. (which you can do now if you're smart or will inevitably when death starts breathing down your neck, as the pest is wont to do.) our actions tend toward emptiness if neither eternal nor relational, and when they are both we feel most human.

so. we've all heard this before. carpe diem. you have about 8 years to invest significantly (better said, influentially in mind forming) in the life of a child (4-12), 8 years to invest significantly in the life of a young person (12-20) and then you can have a whole bunch of advising, damage-control, and rehab as a person becomes an adult, but i would say, get 'em before their 16.

understand, if you're too busy for an 8 year old (since i seem to like the number 8 today), you're too busy for the best stress relievers i know: the humor and hugs of a child. no, coffee and a good book do not compare with humanity at its best.

if you're around undiciplined kids prone to being jerks, make them laugh and help them have fun. kids pretty much stop being jerks then.

how this ties into teaching your kids latin, i dunno. but for heaven's sake enjoy the munchkins while conjugating.

though two:
i miss peru, but i'm content to be here.

1. i resisted the urge to steal the paper in the airport bathrooms.

2. after tensing and worrying that i had forgotten my wallet, i smiled and waved at the police cruiser i saw on an early run.

3. coffee-ing for breakfast and lunching in under 20 minutes.

4. showering daily.

5. arriving for church less than an hour after it starts.

6. i am generally remembering not to kiss people when i hug them. i have a cold now, so i really need to remember.

thought three:

not acclimating:

1. liking and living with one's family being strange.

2. celebrities. ugh. i hate celebrities. not individuals, just the genre.

3. the Man. i haven't felt this disgusted since my freshman year. it's seeing the druggish effect of consumerism on the kids... they start all cute and content and ARE TAUGHT to covet, to lust, to consume, to upgrade to what Walmart (or Target, or Best Buy) is offering. fed brand-loyalty with their Gerbers. sorry. i'm going off. but the agenda of the sellers is so sickening.

4. also nauseating is the complicity of the parents. who in their right mind would buy their child cable or a video game when childhood obesity is at a historic high?! when school shootings are called "an epidemic?" when Americans can't compete with Asians in technical fields? (i should provide citations, but i'm lazy and trying to be as least distracted as possible. if you contest me, look it up yourself.) how can parents stand to have their children watch TV? doth it make the buggers more loveable, all silent and spacy and bored like that? ugh. do you find your daughter's obsession with Hannah Montana healthy? Is it advisible to have children know that Britney Spears shaved her head? The very best thing you could have your offspring memorize is lyrics to High School Musical?!

5. complaining about little things. me and others. kinda silly...