To Whom It May Concern

Lately, I have been more aware of the fact that people love to get involved in other people's business. This is not to be confused with those we want to be involved in decisions we have to make, or advice we are seeking. I am talking about those who are self-invited "involvists". This more than likely affects everyone on occasion, but I have found that after having kids there are involvists looming around every corner. In fact, they have become so prevalent in my own life, that I have begun to file them into categories. As they do their thing, I place them into the pre-labled mental file folder waiting just for them.

In my mind, these folders are now stuffing mental filing cabinets. It is time to spring clean, I suppose, and toss out some of my personal favorites. Please note that this is not to be confused with the wisdom and experience passed on to me from family and friends. That is safely stored in a totally separate cabinet under lock and key. The following are simply words that have floated my way that I like to refer to as my "To Whom It May Concern" pile...

Folder 1 (Environmental Folder)- Funny how there are so many experts who like to preach to moms with lots of kids about carbon footprints. Yes, I AM aware that we probably have more clothes to wash than you, and that our SUV is nothing more than a devil vehicle, but give me a break. You fly to Florida and fill the ocean with oil byproducts on your cruises. That HAS to be worse. Also, last time I checked, all that energy used to wash my dishes trumped all that packaging of your Lean Cuisines.

Folder 2 (Funny Guy Folder)- This folder, unfortunately has many, many pages (an environmental downfall, for sure) that say exactly the same thing. So, here is the answer for all the past and future jokers who think that reproduction jokes are funny- Yes, I HAVE figured out how it happens...

Folder 3 (Well, I Would Folder)- This advice tends to be from all the people who have offspring who should be dropped onto an island that is escape-proof, yet feel that they are quite successful in their parenting techniques and must, therefore, be critical of mine. To these sad, strange mental cases who thrive on denial, I would like to donate the money from recycling your folder to some intensive therapy for your troubled children.

Folder 4 (Trouble Makers)- I am lining my rabbit cage with your folder as we speak...

Folder 5 (Old Wives Tales)- This folder contains all the priceless offerings of those older sages of wisdom who have given me such pearls of advice as not swimming while pregnant to avoid drowning my baby, and that babies with a lot of hair make you sick. To these grand spinners of legend, I promise to pass your folder on to the next generation, as long as the whole swimming thing really is not true.

Enough cleaning for now. I have probably filled a landfill. Oops, I meant a recycling bin...

What I Know...

This is the start of something new for me. For this small moment in time, I am escaping from what I am supposed to be and trying to be what I think I can be. You do not know me, I could be anyone you pass by- the one you bought coffee in the drive-thru this morning, the one you honked at for stopping to let someone walk across the street. I am still that person who was not acceptable to you before on your terms, yet somehow is now a friend here on mine. I am going to let you in, and, for just a moment, you are with me...

The first thing that I remember learning in Journalism is to write about what you know. No one will believe you if you don't, and you will never convince anyone of anything otherwise. I know that the world is full of goodness, though sometimes it gets clouded over by evil. I know that nothing is more priceless than holding a newborn for the first time. I know that money, or the lack of, gives you a true glimpse of a person's true personality. No one really is secure about themselves, and the world does not owe you anything.