My promise to my future children

This past weekend I took my 10 year old cousin to the batting cages because I am awesome. Like honestly. If I was 10 and someone offered to take me to the batting cages, I'm sure I would've done just about anything to show how thankful I was. Not this little kid. Holy oh my goodness, I got called annoying for saying "good job," I got told I was ugly (anyone who knows me knows I'm a regulation hottie) and basically had to hear him whining to and from the cages about how much he just wanted to go home and play on his Wii. Let me tell you, never again. This child may be the absolute worst child I've ever encountered in my life. Wait, that's not true... he has a sister.

These children are so poorly behaved, that anyone who is in their presence, within, oh, about 5 minutes, would say, "were you raised by wolves!?? What makes you think you can speak to anyone, let alone adults like that?" Ok, maybe not all of that, considering I'm kinda verbose, but I'm POSITIVE the gist of it would be the same. But the thing is, they weren't raised by wolves. They were raised by someone that would rather coddle than scold. Now, I'm not saying that beating a child is the way to do things, but now I know how not to do things, for realisies. And this, now, is what I vow to teach my children. This is my promise to my as of yet unborn spawns, that I have thought long and hard about. A way to make them function in society without being called an asshole. (Granted, I'm sure someone will call my kids assholes. Especially considering that they're my kids. But I KNOW, it wont be because of their manners.)

1) I promise to teach you the importance of please, thank you, you're welcome, may I, and any other kind of simplistic politeness. Being polite ain't that hard. It takes very little time and effort. But it shows the people you encounter that you were raised by people who cared about your well being long after your cute babyness wears off. A selfish and rude baby is sometimes a given. A selfish and rude 10 year old is a mistake.

2) I promise to teach you how to do your laundry before you hit puberty. I learned how to do mine when I moved out and I still forget to take the Kleenex out of the pockets, separate whites, etc. It's one disservice I feel I got that was easily remediable. It also gives you a sense of pride and responsibility that doing the dishes simply can't. Because the items are yours.

3) I promise to teach you how to behave at a concert. Respect the music. Put your hands up. Don't stand there like you're too cool for school. The musician put a lot of effort and time and parts of their soul to give you the present that is their music. Put your hands up and wave them around BECAUSE you care. If you see a mom at a Sesame Street concert raising the arms of a three year old, insisting they "respect the music," chances are, it will be me.

4) I promise to teach you a love of politics. I want you to be aware of your surroundings. Of what's happing around you. And if you get angry because things don't go the way you think is right, that's okay. But don't be apathetic and pissy. Don't say you're disenfranchised and to voice your discontent you refuse to vote. That's ignorant and counterproductive. Be vocal and DO SOMETHING!

5) I promise to teach you the art of understanding how others are different than you, and just because you may not agree, it doesn't mean that the other person is wrong. I've had stimulating conversations with Evangelical Christians, Atheists, republicans and democrats. Once you open your ears and your mind to other peoples viewpoints, it may actually change your perspective as well.

6) I promise to teach you how to cook. There may be nothing more annoying in the world than someone saying they can't cook. (I'm looking at you Charlie Brown). Also... and I'll teach you this when you're older... there is nothing cooler and more rewarding than preparing a meal for someone you love. My gift is my meal and this ones for you.

7) I promise to teach you not to take EVERY GOD DAMN THING so fucking seriously. Life can sometimes be shitty, that's just the way it is. But if you aren't capable of at least chuckling about it, or seeing the bigger picture, or at least realizing that in 7 weeks you'll think back and go, "Okay, I can see how it could be considered humorous," then I know that I have failed in some way. I don't want to raise a Donald Trump. I want you to be able to see the humor in all things. Even if the jokes on you.

8) I promise to teach you that it ain't all about you. You are not the center of the universe. You are not the end all, be all. You are one person, trudging through the world like anyone else. Your feelings don't eclipse anyone else's. Caring about others, and how you make them feel, that is what it's about.

9) I promise to teach you how to tell a story. Good LORD, I have heard some long ass, boring as all get out stories that just make me wanna put myself out of my misery. I actually remember a long winded story teller so boring that I stopped listening and started to imagine what mode of suicide would be the least painful, but with the quickest escape. I will not allow you to be one of those people. There must be a point to your story. I don't want to hear what your friend did at her cousins party unless there is a story.

10) I promise to teach you how to be able to take constructive criticism constructively, so you don't feel criticized. This may be the hardest of the bunch. But once you realize that people are telling you things to make you better, as opposed to put you down, it's as though a different part of your brain opens up and you are more receptive to what is actually being said, rather than how it is making you feel.

10.5) I promise to try to teach you how to tell if it's constructive criticism, or an asshole being an asshole.

Hip hop hooray!

First of all let me preface this with a disclaimer: I am not a miserable person. I mean, others may find me miserable in their presence, and therefore think of me as miserable, but rest assured, I am 100% not a miserable person. But I do like to complain. A lot. Good LAWD, I love to complain! Not about people (unless they deserve it) but about things. Take for example my recent shower. The water didn't drain properly, so I had to stand there in ankle deep skin flakes and used soap. Now, I kinda remembered that the drain was yucky, (I mean, for Pete's sake, we got Draino on Sunday!) but I totally forgot to do the Draino jig with the drain. Drain's only remind me that they're stopped up when they are being stopped up, after all. So now, I have to wait until the drain is empty, meaning I'll probably forget again, and only remember during my next shower. See, there you go, I'm complaining.

If I could somehow figure out how to make this into a small blurb that was witty, funny, and well written, I would've posted this as a Facebook status. It's what I usually do in reaction to complaining about something that could easily be written into witty, funny, and well-written. I don't write updates to life. You will never read, "Planting strawberries, let's hope they survive." Or, "got the music going. washing the dishes. I can't wait to nap." as my Facebook status. I don't really like people that do. I also judge people based on their Facebook status's. And then probably do a mental complaint of them that I'll laugh to by myself. Cause I also like the company of myself probably more than others, at this point. So all this tangent thinking got me thinking.

I am at a point in my unemployment that I am no longer depressed, I am delusional. I'll own it. I'm self aware enough. I mean that I am simply unable to feel my own constraints at this point. I feel as though I could potentially do anything and be excellent at it (like crazy excellent) and becomes like the next Bill Gates. So I started thinking about what exactly I want to be paid for. And the truth is, I want to be paid for for my writing. It's fun to do and makes me think and form words and that must mean that I am still able to form a real sentence and hopefully still be able to function in society as a whole. (And still be able to put "excellent conversational skills'' on my resume.)

The stuff I want to write about is shit I love to complain about. Yes. This is where me being misunderstood as miserable could have started from. But the way I think about it is this. Andy Roony, at this point, has made a (fucking amazing) career of complaining. Yes, I know that he was a journalist, and in some circles is still referred to as such. But to me, he is the worlds best complainer. Of all time. And I want to be Andy Roony. I want to complain every day about shit that makes me feel like complaining. So here... is my new blog.