the MODEST girl

I recently read a post on Facebook written by someone I don't know that went along these lines:

 "Parents, please make sure your daughter dresses modestly so my son doesn't get addicted to pornography."

{Ok, so that is a slight exaggeration}

But, it may as well been that blatant of a statement, which, by the way, infuriated me.

Regardless, I decided that, as a mother of two girls, I better get on this request of making sure my daughters are dressed a certain way.  So, I added it to my current To-Do list:

Monday: Take pictures of my daughters' wardrobe.  Send pictures to parents of boys for approval
{Note to self:  Research the most affordable place to buy pantsuits}

Tuesday:  Have a sit-down with my daughters.  Reiterate the importance of understanding the changes the male body experiences during puberty.  Make sure they understand how sensitive we should be towards our male friends.  

{Note to self: buy more tampons and Midol}

Wednesday:  Send an e-mail to Macy's, Nordstrom, etc., asking them when their new line of prom dresses with high-necks and sleeves will be in stock.  Find a full day to go dress shopping. 

{Note to self:  hire a good seamstress}

Thursday:   Take that first leap of faith by letting my daughter walk to a friends house by herself.  But first, review the family "code" word.  Buy some more pepper spray.
{Note to self:  Research self-defense classes}

Friday:   Encourage daughters to get good grades, and tell them I hope they plan to attend college.  Help them understand that exercising their minds is just as important as exercising their bodies.
{Note to self:  Research how to teach your daughter that looks are not the most important thing while simultaneously teaching her that she needs to look a certain way.}

...

Don't get me wrong.  I understand the basic principle behind the original post.  I have standards for my daughters and do not think they should be allowed to wear whatever they want.  And I'll do my best to make sure that when they leave my house they are dressed in a manner that I deem appropriate.

But, the bottom line is this:

It is not my responsibility, nor my daughters' responsibility, to make sure your son does not engage in anything improper or immoral, be it actions or thoughts.

That's your responsibility.  

But, mostly, it's his responsibility.

So, if you could take the state of your son's morality off my plate of things to do, I'd really appreciate it.

{#ohsnap!}

Monday means "What the..."

What happens when the wind gets mad.

Really mad.

Seriously, What the...?!

Watch out for the wind!

Monday means "What the..."

Nearly three years ago, my daughter was born.  I was so excited to have a little girl.  Both my husband and I had wanted a girl, so when she was born, healthy and perfect, we were thrilled.

A few weeks after her birth, I was going to take her to church for the first time.  But, of course, she needed to be dressed for the occasion.  My husband and I set off to find a cute dress and something for her hair.

We found a dress with relatively no problem, although I was surprised at a lot of stores lack of inventory when it came to dresses for newborns.  Everything was too big, by a lot!

Next, came the task of finding a bow.  I thought this was going to be a breeze.  After all, everywhere I turned I seemed to always see a mother and her daughter with a huge-a bow in her hair.  We're talking, the bow the size of the kid's entire face.

I searched and searched and searched for a freakin' bow but couldn't find anything I liked, or that was big enough.  Where were these mom's finding all the gi-normous bows?  

I felt like such a failure when my daughter made her spiritual debut wearing a size appropriate bow.

When she should've been wearing something like this.

One day at church, I asked a mom that was your quintessential "mom with the daughters that always have huge bows in their hair" about where she got her bows.  She proceeded to tell me she MADE them.  

"What the..."?!

This was not what I wanted to hear.  This was suppose to be easy.  I was suppose to go to a store, buy a huge bow for my daughter and be done with it.  Not make the bow.  That requires craftiness and I'm just not crafty.  Put me in front of a computer and I'll take care of anything, but put me in front of a sewing machine or anything like that I'm completely lost.

Needless to say, my daughter still doesn't have any cute hair bows, but I'm determined to change that.  If you know of any good stores, local or online, that sell awesome, yet reasonably priced hair bows please let me know.

Monday Means "What the..."

The other night, my friend Becky e-mailed me a link to post she had read that she thought was just unreal.  She wanted my take on it, and even suggested I use it for one of my "What the..." posts.  I was more than happy to read the post, and was even more thrilled that she was helping me keep up my weekly goal of posting about my "What the..." experiences.

Anyway, you can read the original post here, and then the follow-up post here.  In a nutshell, the blogger writes about a disagreement that her friend and her friend's husband are having.  Becky didn't tell me about the post because of the disagreement itself, but rather the fact that this blogger would post about someone else's very private matter, a matter that has absolutely nothing to do with her.  Whether this blogger got permission from her friend to do so is unclear, but I'm going to assume she did.  

Another aspect of the post that was interesting was that people were commenting on it and giving answers and solutions with absolutely no other information than was given in the brief post.

My initial reaction to this post was that it was pretty bold for someone else to blog about it, rather than the people directly involved.  But, then I thought maybe this friend didn't want to blog about it herself, but did want the advice from other people.  Mind you, advice from what very well could be complete strangers.

I eventually e-mailed Becky back and said it was a little "what the..." that someone would choose to blog about her friend's marital problems, and that I thought it would've been a much better post had the people involved been the ones to blog about it.

But, I also said that perhaps this post had done some good for someone out there.  Not so much the couple themselves, but another reader that was going through a similar situation.  After all, blogs and the Internet in general have become a great source for people to know that they are not alone in this world and that there is almost always someone else who understands what you are going through.

I think the most "what the..." about this entire situation is that people were so quick to comment about it.  Sure, I posted about a situation that had nothing to do with me, but it had nothing to do with the state of someone's marriage.  Do you think as readers, we should be less quick to offer our two cents, especially when we have extremely limited, very one-sided information?  Are we adding fuel to the fire by commenting when, in all honesty, it really isn't any of our business?

And, yes, I appreciate the irony that I am informing you about a situation that I have basically deemed too personal for the Internet.  :)

Monday Means "What the..."

I went to Primm, NV over the weekend to see Melissa Etheridge in concert.  She is my husband's favorite musician, and I LOVE going to concerts and am usually game to see anyone.  In fact, we saw Melissa earlier this year and she put on such a good show we wanted to see her again; hence, our trip to Primm.

For anyone who has ever been to a concert knows, especially a ROCK concert, that people typically stand up, dance, sing along, cheer,  yell, wave their hands in the air, etc.

I am one of the many people that do just that at concerts.

To my surprise though, the crowd in Primm, NV was not.

Seriously, the crowd sat during almost the entire thing with the exception of the people in the very, very front.  Our seats were off to the side.  We weren't on the floor.

One of the best parts about a concert is when the artist comes on stage for the first time.  It's typically a time when everyone gets up on their feet and cheers.  Like normal people, my husband, our friend and I all stood up when Melissa first walked on stage.  It was awesome, and I was really enjoying her opening song.

While I was getting into the groove, I noticed my husband and friend talking about the people behind us.  I didn't realize it at the time, but the guy behind my husband started to yell at him and eventually punched him in the shoulder and told him we needed to sit down.  My husband just looked at him and said, "Really?" as if to suggest "Really, fat ol' man, you want me to sit down...sit down at a rock concert?"

"What the...!"

We eventually did sit down because the alcohol was flowing all around us and the last thing I wanted to do was get into a big argument with someone.

But, I made up my mind while I was dancing to the beat (sitting down) that I would stand up at the end, after she played her last song and into the encore.

And we did just that.

And it was awesome.

I took the time to glance behind me and once we stood up the people behind us left.

What nerds.

Okay, so the moral of the story is, if you go to a rock concert you cannot except people to sit down the entire time.  It's a rock concert.  If you want to have a nice, relaxed evening go see Yo-Yo Ma.

Monday means "What the..." (On Thursday)

There's a commercial for Arby's on TV these days that inspired my "What the..." for the week.  It starts out with a guy falling asleep at the wheel because he's apparently not getting enough Arby's.

Some of my readers may know that over 14  years ago my husband (then 16) was in a horrible car wreck.  He and his sister were driving along a two lane highway in Wyoming when a semi-driver fell asleep at the wheel and hit their car head on.

While my husband escaped the crash with minor injuries, the impact of the crash killed his sister, Shannon, immediately.

Our society spends so much time cautioning us against the dangers of drinking and driving and now texting and driving; however, drowsy driving seems to be getting the shaft, so much so that companies like Arby's think it is okay to use it as a marketing tool to sell their over priced, not so great sandwiches.  I mean, can you imagine any company making light of drunk driving to sell a product?  It's absolutely appalling, and the same standard should be set for drowsy driving.

Not everybody drinks.

Not everybody texts.

But, everybody gets tired, making drowsy driving extremely dangerous and completely under rated.

My mother-in-law is boycotting Arby's until the commercial is off the air.  I will be doing the same.  If you or anyone you know has been the victim of drowsy driving, please consider writing Arby's a complaint.  Or, share this post on your blog, or on Facebook.

Let's make the streets just a little bit safer by demanding smarter advertising.

"What the..."!

P.S. I couldn't find a video of the commercial to post here, so if anyone can find it, please let me know!

Monday means "What the..." (on Tuesday)

This week's "What the..." was a no brainer, and the reason why I'm a day late posting about it.

Yesterday, our car was broken into.  The SOBs broke our back door passenger window and stole our portable DVD player and some DVDs.

The portable DVD player was a generous gift given to me by my in-laws for my birthday last year.  

And, the DVDs that were stolen?  Oliver and Company, Baby Beethoven, Baby Monet, Hotel for Dogs and Merry Madagascar.  Notice a pattern?  That's right, they're all movies for kids.

The freakin' idiots that decided to steal from me didn't actually steal from me at all.  They stole from my two year old daughter.

This is the first time I've ever been robbed, and I realize things could've been a lot worse.  I, along with my daughter, can live just fine without the DVD player, and all the DVDs can easily be replaced. 

No, the worst part really is that I looked over my shoulder all day yesterday.  I double checked all the windows in my house because going to bed.  I kept lights on in the house when I wasn't using them.

I doubt this crime will make me a paranoid person, but the fact that they stole from my kid AND made me change my behavior just a little bit really makes me mad.

What the...!!  is all I have to say!!

MONDAY means "What the..."

In an attempt to update my blog more often, I am going to start doing a weekly theme post.  Out of all the themes I could choice from, leave it to me to choose to post about something that bugs me.  The point is not to be a complete Debbie Downer.  The point is to just vent for the sake of venting.

I'm calling my weekly posts "What the..."  because I say that phrase basically daily and it just sums up the point of all this fun-ness so perfectly.

So, here we go.

But first let me start with a little bit of background so we're all on the same page.

As stated on my side bar, I'm a Mormon.  Or, I'm a member of The Church of Jesus Christ of Latter-day Saints.  Or, I'm LDS.  Like other Christians, I go to church every Sunday; however, my Sundays are a bit different than other Christian churches I've been to in that I go for three hours.  Yes, three hours.  Within those hours are three different meetings, the last of which is called Relief Society.  Relief Society is an organization just for women.  On Sunday, in Relief Society, we have lessons on a variety of different topics.  We also sing hymns.   And, we also have a chorister to lead during the hymns.   My calling (my job in the church) is to be the chorister.

As far as church callings go, this one is a cinch, especially when it is widely known by all members of the LDS faith that NO ONE, seriously, NO ONE, watches the chorister.  Their heads are usually glued to the hymn books.

I'm not 100% comfortable leading music, but I have a musical background, so the process makes sense to me.  Plus, no one will be looking at me, right?

Well, actually, there is one person that should be watching me.  That is the pianist.  After all, I'm the one leading the song; therefore, she should be watching me for the tempo, right?

Well, not so much.  And here comes the "What the..." portion of my post.

I learned the hard way that the pianist doesn't watch me, but everyone else does.  So, instead of leading the music, I'm essentially following the pianist trying to make sense of her less than steady tempo.  Instead of waving my arm in a seamless, perfect stride, it's going all over the place in less than a desirable way.

All the while everyone who is NOT suppose to be watching me is watching me.

Yesterday, after church, two elderly women came up to me and told me I was getting so much better at leading  - that I was finding that "down beat" almost all the time.

I know with all my heart that they didn't mean absolutely any harm and that all they wanted to do was compliment me on my apparent progress of (unbeknown to them) "following the piano."  It took all my strength not to correct them, to tell them I knew exactly what I was doing and if the pianist would follow me I would be on the "down beat" every single time.

But, I didn't.  I wished them a happy day and then vented the crap out of my husband about my adventures in piano following.

This is SOO not how it's suppose to be.

WHAT THE...!