Why I unfriended you on Facebook

Unfortunately, there are no classes in high school to prepare us for what life is like inside the social media bubble. Since man first inked the location of the local hunting spots, in less than 160 stick figures, on the cave wall, we've had the desire to share our our life's journey with the world. We have an innate need to share what we love, think, do, witness, believe and create.

The concept of social media in the digital age is a pretty new one. As mature members of society, it's our responsibility to determine the ground rules for acceptable behavior. Ideally, we would seek to inspire each other, grow in our relationships and enjoy the perks of being an affluent nation.

That, however, has not been my experience when using Facebook & Twitter. Instead, it's become a narrative of the mundane, inappropriate and uninspiring. So, I've decided to exact some control over the personal space inside my little bubble by removing any toxic, unneeded and undesirable participants.

Without further adieu, here are the rules I've set to determine who gets bumped from my friends list.

1. You share too much. This can be in frequency as well as content. The world doesn't want to know what you're doing every minute of every day. Do you narrate what you do out loud while you're doing it too? "Elizabeth walks to the refrigerator to get a glass of milk. I'm drinking the milk. Gulp... putting the glass in the sink..." Blah!

Also, and this is important... I don't want to know what happened the last time you had a bowel movement, and I certainly don't want details about it.

2. You lean either too far to the left, or too far to the right politically. If you have the common sense not to talk politics during family gatherings, then why would you force those same people, and many more, to listen to the same stump speech in their news feeds? People who have nothing better to do than spout political rhetoric day after day never really move forward. They end up 'walking' in circles becoming too predictable, bitter and unreachable. Stand up straight and branch out. Or don't, I've already removed you from my friends list.

3. Your status updates come with a black bar covering words or part of photos. Seriously, if you wouldn't say something that vulgar at your grandma's house, why would you want your sweet Aunt Edna to see it on Facebook? Your 13 year-old cousin doesn't need any help from you in sex-ed. Keep your porn under your mattress like your dad used to and off my iPad.

4. You're so angry, bitter and whiny that I have to take Prozac to get through one of your rants. Every post you make pushes both of us one step closer to seeing the inside of a padded room. If you're so miserable and life sucks so badly, why would you want to share that with the rest of us? You're just making the rest of us miserable too.

5. You're unbelievable. No, not like the hit song from EMF... as in, I can't believe anything you tweet. You lie. You exaggerate so much that not even your own mother is friends with you on Facebook. Be real. Social media is about being social, not making you the next cover story for the Enquirer.

Since you're now singing the lyrics to Unbelievable in your head, here's the link to the YouTube video http://youtu.be/waacof2saZw

If you've somehow found this blog and then realized that we're no longer friends on Facebook...

Well, this is awkward.


Can you think of other reasons why you would unfriend someone on social media? Feel free to add them in the comments below.

Good will always win over evil

Mothers and fathers all over the world are hugging their kids longer and tighter today. That's what we do when unthinkable things happen. Unthinkable, unspeakable... unforeseeable.

We send our children off to school in the mornings believing and praying that they will safely return to us at the end of the day. We pray the bus driver will deliver them to and from school safely. We hope that their school is indeed a safe place. We expect actual heaven-sent angels will be at their side, every step of the way.

I have first and fourth grade children. The idea that there could ever be a day touched by such horrific actions, had never before entered even the worst of my nightmares. Who could possibly contemplate a gunman walking into an elementary school and taking the lives of so many?

20 precious children, ages 6 and 7, didn't get to go home yesterday. 27 families and an entire nation scared forever by another senseless tragedy.

As a parent, you spend your entire life trying to protect your kids... trying to teach them to make good choices so that one day, they can be successful, happy adults with families of their own. It's hard-wired into our DNA; the idea that we have the ability to control what happens to us... but we don't.

My first instinct was to immediately pull my kids out of school and homeschool them until they're 30. Unfortunately,  news headlines also flashed through my head from this past year, of mall and movie theater shootings. The reality of it is, there is no true safe place. Home invasions and car accidents happen every day.

So, what do we do now?

The only thing we can. Teach our kids to pray and to enjoy life.

The world is a scary, uncontrollable place. Our children, as well as adults, need somewhere they can be 100% secure. The belief that we have an eternity to spend with our loved-ones in heaven is so powerful, that we gain strength and peace in times of great sorrow.

Do I believe the world is a more violent place today than it was two days ago?

Probably not. There have always been evil people in the world, but there have always been so many more of the good. I refuse to raise my children in fear. I'll give them the tools they need, to live the best lives they can. I'll do my best to direct their futures to fulfill their dreams. I will not raise them to think the worst in people. I will always believe good will always win over evil.

My heart aches for the families affected from the Sandy Hook Elementary School shooting. They will not mourn alone. Their great loss will not be forgotten. My prayers are for them tonight. May their little angels find peace in the arms of our heavenly Father.

Painting: Serenity by David Bowman

In memory of Scott Guffey

This may be hard for some to read, you won't hurt my feelings if you don't. I wanted to document my thoughts and feelings, as well as moments I witnessed during this last week.

My family has been blessed for many years, in the way that we've suffered very few pre-mature deaths. Believe me, I count those blessings daily... my great-grandma lived well into her 90's, grandpa had a massive heart attack two days before his 71st birthday, and both grandmothers are thankfully still living. Maybe that's why I'm not really sure how I feel right now. I'm not even sure how I should feel.

As many of you know, we lost my cousin, Scott Guffey, after a relatively short battle with Leukemia. He was 35.

Love birds, Scott & Kris Guffey, May 2011

Less than six months after his diagnosis, we found ourselves celebrating his life, along with hundreds of  people we'd never before met, but whom loved him. In the time he had, he was able to affect the lives of so many. He became, not only a rock star daddy to his three girls, Alley, Natalie & Jaleigh and devoted husband to Kris, but a safe place for anyone who needed advice, friendship or just some good ol' tough love.

He was one of the healthiest, strongest and virile men you'd ever know. He was a hard-worker, a strong leader and lived life to its fullest, his way... usually involving as much adrenaline as possible. He drove way too fast, drank too much, and was constantly in a state of motion. Yet he never missed a chance to enjoy his friends and family, making it his goal to live life without regrets.

Gray Family Reunion in October, 2012. Alley, Kris, Scott, Jaleigh, Natalie, Shannon, Garret & Matt.

He raised his girls to be strong, independent young ladies, and I know they'll be alright. Sure, they'll make their own rules for many things, but they'll figure out their way in life just as Scott and Kris did.

Attending his funeral yesterday, I witnessed incredible maturity, emotional strength and love for their daddy in their dry eyes, sure actions and words. I can tell you that many adults in the room were able to remain strong because they were. Scott wouldn't have wanted tears, but laughter at his funeral. They were amazing, and I know he's very proud.

So why am I confused? Why do I find myself snapping at Todd and getting so irritated with my own kids?

I think it's because, after all is said and done, I didn't really know him... not really. For many years, I wouldn't have been able to pick him out of a line-up, and it makes me angry. I lived ten minutes from him, and yet, there was no foundation laid during our childhoods to build a friendship on. I lived my life, and he lived his.

As these things tend to happen, years ago, adults in our families made choices. Choices that put us children on different life paths. So despite spending the early years of our lives actually being playmates and learning about life together, we wouldn't really meet again until we had kids of our own. Sure, there were those random family gatherings, when we'd see each other and be cordial, but it was more like we were just polite strangers. Eventually, he stopped coming to family functions, and we stopped calling. We become strangers.

It wasn't until about 5 years ago, during an indoor soccer game at a gym in Mooresville that our paths would cross again. I was bringing Jocey to the bathroom while Zander played, and a very large, 6' 3", very red, very sweaty man holding a basket ball walked up to me and said hello. I must have had a strange look on my face, because he said, "It's me Scott."

I was stunned. "Bubba?"

Wow, Scott got old. Wait... we got old.

Scott was there with his girls & Kris, watching Jaleigh play in her own soccer game. I sat with them and made small talk for awhile. I felt awkward, like I was intruding on their space, like I was someone that they would try to avoid. Which, knowing what I know now about Scott, is ridiculous. He was the kind of guy who wanted to make everyone feel good and welcome. I know whatever weird feelings I had that day were from my own inner crazy. I had told myself for years, that they didn't really want to be part of our family, that we weren't good enough for them. I don't know why I thought this, considering that I never once reached out to call him and Shannon. I was an adult, but I was still expecting the real adults around me to determine my relationships and arrangements.

I'm so very grateful that over the last five years, we would see each other at least once or twice a year at a family get-together. Family gatherings were never boring... Christmas dinners almost always involved wrestling matches, mixed drinks, sweat and laughter. Summer functions would involve RTV's, water balloons and a hose. But this is where my account of his life stops. He was my first cousin, and I didn't really know him. 

All the cousins. Back row: Alex, Elizabeth, Shannon, Tara, Scott
Front row: Summer Joy, Melissa, Sasha, Kyndra & Max

How can you mourn the loss of someone you don't really know?

It provides you with a reality check... a wake-up call, that any day could be your last.

I wish for more time.

I wish I didn't have regrets.

I wish I was stronger... a better mother, friend, sister, daughter, person.

Scott's battle with Leukemia

When we first learned that he had an aggressive form of Leukemia, and was undergoing chemotherapy, I was lucky enough to get to visit him in the hospital. Again, I felt awkward, like I wasn't worthy of taking his valuable time. Like I was intruding on his family. Like I didn't belong there. But he greeted me with a smile, and a warm hug. (I learned in the last few days, he didn't really like to touch people, so I'm even more grateful) He made me feel welcome, and that he appreciated me stopping in to see him. He didn't have to do that. He was the one with cancer... it was just who he was.

His first round of chemo didn't rid his body of the cancer, so he would have to stay there, in isolation and undergo something called super-chemo. Which did force the cancer into remission, but it almost killed him. I don't remember all the details at this point, but I know he had to be placed in a coma for about two weeks, and then later have heart surgery to repair the damage the chemo had caused. He was placed on the bone marrow transplant list. So they waited.

He was able to go home again and regain some of his strength, but all too soon, the cancer would come back. I hear that the doctors told him he wouldn't have much longer to live, a year at most... After receiving that devastating news, he would get a phone call just hours later, that a match had been found. So, they would do chemo again, and then he would have a chance at life.

However, this time, the chemo didn't work. He couldn't get a bone marrow transplant until the cancer went back into remission. He was determined to go down fighting, so they opted for a medical trial.

I woke up Sunday morning and looked at my cell phone. There were about 20 text messages from my aunts and sister. They were batched by person, so I didn't understand any of them, but one.

"They coded Scott..."

I called my Aunt and she told me what was going on. I asked her what exactly "coded" meant. She said he had died. They worked on him for 20 minutes to bring him back.

I'm not proud of this... but I spent the rest of the day in tears between panic attacks. I don't know if it was the fact that it was really happening, if it was that he had died, if I was feeling sorry for myself, if I was worried about his girls, or if he was a Believer or not. As a Christian woman, this is the biggest thing that weighs on my heart. I just have to pray that such a great man, who did so much good in the world would be welcomed into arms of a loving Father.

As mothers often do, mine knew the best way to help me, was to bring me to the hospital to see things for myself. We went and sat with his wife, Kris, his mother, Corkey (Trevelyn), his sister, Shannon, his dad, Jeff, and his brother-in-law Matt.

If they were holding it together, then what right did I have to fall apart? Although I couldn't actaully see Scott, I felt comforted by the fact that his loved ones were right there... waiting, watching, hoping. 

At 3:30am the next morning, my phone rang. Mom tells me the doctor asked the family to come in to say their good-byes. By 3:55am, I was pulling into the parking garage right next to my mom on one side, and my sister on the other. We walked into the ICU together. Aunt Tonya greeted us with hugs and brought us up to date on his state. Kris, was sitting at his bedside holding him and family wept silently in the dark hallway outside his little room. There was a window, large enough that you could see in to from the hallway. His eyes were closed, and he was bundled up like a newborn baby. 

Scott would pass away at 11:30 that morning. His body just couldn't take any more punishment. His spirit will live on through all the people he touched, and in the hearts and minds of his girls.

I pray that I can allow myself to live life as he did. Without any regrets, with complete confidence in myself and compassion for others. I hope one day I can say that I too and #GuffeyStrong

Balloon release at Scott's funeral. Each one written with a message for him.

Gray Family Reunion, October, 2012

In typical Guffey-fashion, he and his family asks you to sign-up to be a bone marrow donor. You could be a match for someone's daddy, someone's brother, someone's son... http://marrow.org/HomeOld.aspx It just takes 10-15 minutes to complete the online registration form. They'll mail you a kit to swab the inside of your cheek and send back to them.

If you're unable to register, please consider making a donation. You could save a life and give someone a chance.

"River Monster" Spotted in Indianapolis!

My 9-yr old son Zander is obsessed with becoming a world famous, extreme angler, like Animal Planet's Jeremy Wade, the star of "River Monsters". He's spent the last several months watching every tv episode, reading all kinds of fish stories and planning for future fishing excursions.

Each year about September, we start talking about what each one of our four children wants to be for Halloween. This year, Zander's answer was easy. "I want to be an extreme angler" he says.  I'm thrilled because I think how easy this is going to be. Oh, and how cute...

When I was little, we would challenge our imaginations to make our costumes from things we found around the house. Mom would break out the acrylic paints and her home ec skills. Dad would do any constructing we would need. It was awesome.

Since I became a mom, I've always felt like I've taken the easy way out. Either we head to Costco, or to the couch to order online the costumes of choice. This year, the only children's size fisherman costumes I could find were for toddlers or grown ups. The little tykes were adorable, but too cutesy and baby-like.

So I start thinking... about how unique a look Jeremy Wade has. A unique, distinct and easily replicated one. I realized that Zander could actually be Jeremy Wade for Halloween, not just any ol' fisherman, but the extreme angler himself. All we would need, is to buy a pair of cargo pants, a long sleeve button up, collared shirt, and white hair spray. The key to pulling it off though, would be the fish. Yep, he'd need a really big monster fish.

I instantly have visions of twisting wire, paper mache and paint flying through my head. I could do it... I could make a monster fish. Better yet, I could make the inside big enough to hold the candy too. People would put their hands into the big mouth, past the pointy teeth to give him the candy. How cool would that be? At this point, I could feel the gooey, paper mache running between my fingers. I could smell the strips of newspaper and just imagine Zander as the 'cutest little mini-angler' ever created.

The Supply List

Paper Mache (mix equal parts water and flower, with a little bit of salt)

Strips of newspaper

Plastic gloves

Thin gauge wire (you want to be able to bend it with your hands easily. I used .5mm wire you would usually use to hang plants, or possible anchor a christmas tree to a wall.)

Needle nose pliers & wire cutters

Duct Tape

Foam Craft Balls

An exacto knife

Acrylic paints & brushes

Glue

2 Straight pins

Paint primar

Large empty plastic jar (I used an old pretzel container to put in the belly of the fish to hold the candy)

Length of time: Multiple days. It took me about a month to get it done.

Step 1: First, I built a wire frame to the shape of what I thought would resemble a monster fish. Looking back, I would have started with an actual photo to go off of. As it is, I made it up as I went. I cut the wire up into smaller sections, about two to three feet in length and twisted the pieces together securely. I added the tail (yes, I know it's horizontal, and not vertical as it's supposed to be, but what can I say... I was thinking about dolphins), the fins and the teeth. Zander insisted that we include dorsal fins, so I added those too.

Step 2: I decided to use duct tape to create a base layer to hold the paper mache strips to. This also provided structural support since the thin wire is really flimsy.

Note: Jocelyn doesn't usually wear such drastic make up.
She was a vampire girl earlier in the day.

Step 3: Here comes the fun part. Tear the newspaper into strips about 1" by 6". Mix the paper mache. Dip the individual strips in the goo and remove the excess by pulling the strips between two fingers. I prefer to use plastic gloves for this since the salt in the mixture burns dry skin. Overlap and criss cross the strips.

Put the large empty plastic container in the belly of the fish while everything is still wet and pliable.

Step 4: I balled up newspaper to shove inside the fish around the container. This helped support the weight of the wet paper mache, so the fish would retain its shape and not start to collapse in on itself.

Step 5: Let it dry completely for a few days, and then add a second layer or paper mache.

Step 6: Once it's completely dry and firm, you're ready to paint. Start with a white, water based paint primer. One coat should do it.

Step 7: I cut down two small foam craft balls to form the bug eyes. I glued them down, painted them, and added the straight pins to add a gleam to the eye and secure them to the fish.

Step 8: Use acrylic paints to finish off the desired look.

Some of you may be saying to yourselves, "She's crazy! She did all that work for a Halloween costume prop?". I agree, I may be crazy... and it may be one of the best thingamajigs I've ever created.

Hopefully, Zander will have some great memories of the Halloween he had a one of a kind costume... and of course, was the star of River Monsters for a few short hours.

What was your favorite homemade costume? Were you a child, or a full grown, Halloween-loving adult? Post in the comments below.

A bucket of fried chicken and a school choir

My stepdaughter Ashley was blessed with a beautiful voice. Naturally, she's been an active participant in the school choir for as long as I've known her. She loves being on stage, learning new songs, being with her friends, and knowing that her family is there in the audience watching her.

One of the most memorable performances occurred her 8th grade year, when she was 14. It was an outdoor, springtime, student-organized event. She had literally been talking about it for months ahead of time. What she failed to mention, was the length of the event. They handed me the program when we arrived, and after I got over the shock, I counted the number of acts ahead of us. There were 27! Of which she sang with the chorus, in the back row for two. 27 - 2 = 25 acts, in which she sat in the bleachers and goofed around with her friends. We sat and watched. I remember it well. I prayed for rain. "Please God, let those dark clouds bring rain." They didn't.

Three and a half hours, one teenaged magician, several extremely uncomfortable solos, duets, group songs, an interpretative dance, a line dance, and did I mention the magician... we were able to leave. It didn't take me long to realized that we were in fact held hostage, along with all the other parents, grandparents, aunts, uncles and siblings... all because of common courtesy. Something I thought we were all born with.

Because no matter how badly you want to get up and leave after your child has performed, it would be considered rude in modern society to do so. So, we sat, covered our ears at times, and avoided making any eye contact or loud comments within earshot of one of the proud parents surrounding us. I left there feeling a great sense of empathy and camaraderie with my community. We had survived.

Of course, once Ashley made it to High School, she continued her study of music, and joined the choir. I arrived for her first performance her freshman year, and was pleasantly surprised that it was held in the auditorium, not a gymnasium, cafeteria or courtyard. The auditorium was beautiful, comfortable and professional. I was stoked.

Everyone took there seats, the lights dimmed and the show began. Here we go again, parents and family members banding together to muscle through another season, video cameras in one hand, and a bag of peanuts in the other? What? Seriously, the couple sitting beside us, literally pulled out a bag of peanuts. The man took a hand full, and placed them on his very large stomach to use as a table. The munching and crackling began.

I was suddenly grateful that it was a Tuesday night and my kids, who are deathly allergic to peanuts were with their dad. I became angry. Not only were these people breaking the clearly stated rules stating "No Food or Drink Allowed" posted at each entrance to the auditorium. They felt the need to add their own sound track to the music. A sound track of whispers, crackles, crunches and chewing.

Ashley is now a junior, and we've attended 2-3 performances annually. Each year, "the people" in the audience become more rude, inconsiderate, self-centered and brazen. What happened to the warm, gooey, camaraderie I had felt during the three and a half hours of torture we had shared years before? Don't these people want to support their children? Why can't they just shut up? Didn't their parents teach them manners?

Although I tried to get out of attending the Fall Concert just a few weeks ago, Ashley insisted that I be there. She's in show choir now, and had been putting in a lot of hours, and energy into following her dream. I did really want to be there for her, even if I really didn't want to deal with the people. So we went. I knew that the performances would be light years better than what we witnessed in Middle School, but I also knew that the people in the audience were the most inconsiderate, thoughtless people I've had the pleasure to share a zip code with.

I had given up anyone following the clearly posted rules at the door, and decided if they weren't going to, then why should I? So although my conscience plagued me, I brought my large sweet tea in with me, and carefully stowed it under my chair. I had run into Ashley and her friend in the hall outside the auditorium as I was trying to finish my tea before I went in. She suggested that I just bring it in with me. She told me a local urban legend that had been passed around the show choir for the last several years. Legend was, a family brought in an actual bucket of fried chicken and passed it up and down the aisle during the performances. The entire auditorium reeked of the Colonel's secret recipe. So I figured, a sweet tea is pretty harmless compared to chicken legs and greasy fingers.

Again, the lights dimmed, students took the stage, and immediately, the talking behind us began. The most incredible example of white trash the south side of Indy could produce was sitting earshot right behind us. The man looked as if he just finished beating up 6th graders for their lunch money, and he picked up some new teeth for his wife from the dumpster in the back on the way in. At least he sure smelled like it. I tried to ignore them, and their smell. I made it about 4 songs.

I turned around several times and glared. This normally works with my children, and was sadly disappointed when they seemed not to get the hint and shut up. I even raised my eyebrow, giving them "the look". Prior to Ashley taking the stage, there may have been heated words exchanged. At this point, I'm fuming angry that we couldn't just sit and enjoy Ashley's stellar singing and dancing. Suddenly I also wished that the school had metal detectors at the door. We were indeed encountering the thug life.

I keep thinking, "These people are raising children!", "These people are raising children?". What kind of example is being provided for our future leaders and citizens? When the parents don't have the ability to recognize the need for the greater good, and are constantly put their own selfish needs before others, where does that leave their kids?

When did we become a society and that no longer cares about the most basic considerations for others? More importantly, is there anyway to course correct and regain the common ground we once used to share. I have to believe that the individual desires, hopes and dreams that we all share for our children's future becomes the bond and the goal we all reach towards, even if it's unknowingly.

Until then, we'll be there in the audience to cheer on Ashley through the rest of her show choir career. She's definitely worth it.