Who’s the mom here? – Page 14

Blessings of Habit, Health, Inspiring, Who's the mom here?, Wisdom

What to Do if You Are Under a Manipulator – Part 1

Posted on October 10, 2011January 20, 2015 by Katharine

If you and a manipulative person are thrown in together in a way where you cannot escape, what can you do?

First, realize this does not apply to your God-ordained authorities. This means your pastor, husband, parents (if you are young and single), boss, police, mayor, judges, etc. These people are supposed to have some say in your life and you should do what they say if it is not illegal.
Be careful of receiving gifts, compliments, invitations, etc., especially if they have implied debts attached to them (strings attached). You may feel that God wants you to accept the item, but always remember that anything given to you is yours to do with or about as you see fit. A gift is not a contract. If you did not say you would reciprocate with a certain favor because of what you have received, you are not bound to do so when such favors are brought up after the fact.
Seek God daily about your daily activities. Make God your daily planner, not the person who is trying to be God.
Plan ahead. Decide before the telephone rings how long you need to spend on the telephone today. Decide before you receive an invitation for dinner whether or not you are available to go out. Decide before the next time the person is trying to cry, just exactly what your response should be, then . . .
Do not back down! Make “no” mean NO. you can be very polite and still say “no” and make it stick. Do not worry about what the person will think; these people are not responsible for their thoughts and their thoughts are mostly irrational and unpredictable, anyway. No matter what you do, you will invoke base thought from a manipulator.
Be merciless with the sin of control; love the sinner. You can be very distant from a person for his own good, out of love for the person. You could deny an alcoholic liquor because you loved him, right? This time, you are the addictive substance that is being consumed to the point of abuse. Someone has to stop it.
Don’t major on minors. Allow a little control, if you see that it doesn’t matter, especially at first. Let the person choose your ice cream, parking spot, whatever will soften the initial blow of weaning. Save your insistence for choosing friends, movies, books, etc. Also, if the controller lies about the laundry, for instance, let it go, but if lies about your children pop up, expose them.

Hope this is beginning to make sense. More coming tomorrow!

Health, Inspiring, Photos, Scripture, Who's the mom here?, Wisdom

Ten Ways to Spot a Manipulator a Mile Away

Posted on October 7, 2011January 20, 2015 by Katharine

Oh, don’t we all find ourselves caught in a web prepared by some manipulator, sometimes?

It can be so hard to extricate ourselves. I am sure we would love if they wore beepers, so we could walk far around them.

In a way, they do.

I would love to share about this, in hope of sparing someone out there, if possible. Following are a few of the many signs of a controller/manipulator personality:

They usually do not have their own lives under control. You know the ones–3 times the size they should be, scream at their children lots, talk too loudly, abuse substances, have barely a pathway through their overly-stuffed home, etc.
They do not delegate well, and want to be the only one able to do the job right. We wish!–Because they volunteer too much and think they are good managers, even assume bogus titles to prove it, right? They are prideful and want you to think they know everything.
They ignore you, flatter you, change the subject, or know someone ELSE it applies to, but don’t self-apply good teaching; usually can’t get the Spritual application of it.
They gossip and gripe. Gr-r-r!
They want special privileges and unnatural private time. A lot.
They are resistant to, or even terrified of, proper authority, proper control.
They are long on doctrine, short on loving understanding; they try to confuse the mind.
They can become quite angry.
They often have been deeply wounded in the past and may be driven by avoiding further hurt.
They always, always have the person they manipulate, or “own”, foremost in thought and speech.

Okay, this is the short list. There is more, but the big thing to remember is that these people feel so insecure, it is sad. They do what they do to feel more secure, usually, to try to keep everything under control and at arm’s length, to avoid pain.

Note: Just because you have a PhD in blogging, need to lose 70 pounds, like me a lot, and send me personal notes of encouragement, it does NOT mean you’re trying to manipulate me!!! Just don’t google my phone number, call me, and rant at me for an hour, and we’ll be fine! 🙂

Oh, and the mother/child relationship is different. You are supposed to devote lots to your children, cherish them, think of them always, manage their little lives, etc. Most manipulators, although they should, do not do this.

Just remember one day, when they’re grown, you will have to let go of your children. Manipulators usually do not do that, either.

To see these concepts in action in the Bible, read about the lives of King Saul and Prince Absalom, in 1 Samuel 9 through 2 Samuel 19. David’s reaction to both was mostly good.

Click here to read the next page of this series!

Believe it or not!, Blessings of Habit, Inspiring, Pre-schoolers, Sayings, Who's the mom here?, Wisdom

A New Kind of Countdown . . .

Posted on October 3, 2011October 7, 2011 by Katharine

Do you “count” you kids down?

You know, you tell them to do something and they don’t do it.

So you say, “One . . . ”

The implication is that you have told them once and you are keeping track, so you must really mean it. Or something.

Then you tell them again, and you say, “That’s two,” a bit more firmly.

Then you tell them again, and you say, “Don’t make me get out of this chair!” They yawn.

And the countdown begins again.

The children learn they do not have to do anything you say because what you say does not really mean anything at all, and your frustration level escalates.

Well, I was at a craft show this weekend and met a lady who “counts” her grandsons and it is all different. I liked it.

She has taught these two boys to repeat a chant with her. It goes like this:

–Grandmother: One.

–Grandsons: One–I am going a wrong way.

—Grandmother: Two.

—Grandsons: Two–I need to find a different way.

You may wonder where the expected “three” is. On “three” she gets out of her chair. That’s one reason this method works.

(However, as a child, I am sure I would have been saying inside myself, “Three–I need to get OUT of the way!”)

As I observed these boys I marvelled. They had been without Mom for a week and were at a boring craft fair where it was not appropriate for them to do anything. They shared one toy truck and played on the ground with it.

When one boy decided to drive the truck on the sidewalk, Grandmother perceived he was causing a tripping hazard for the shoppers. So she told him to stop and return to the grassy places where her tent was.

He did this only briefly, then strayed to the sidewalk again.

Then she said, “One.”

He replied, “One–I am going a wrong way,” and he sighed, returning to the grass.

In less than a minute his toy truck had strayed again. And Grandmother said, “Two.”

He answered, “Two–I need to find a different way.” Then my jaw dropped, I am sure, as he calmly walked over to his brother, handed him the toy, and wryly said, “See if you can keep this thing off the sidewalk. I can’t.”

I imagine these two little guys, someday at age 35 or so, filling out a tax form or zipping down a highway, temped to “forget” some benefit or accelerate too much, and hearing Grandmother say to them, through the ages, “One . . . “

Believe it or not!, Good ol' days, Husbands, Who's the mom here?, Wives

The Brave Huntress Strikes Again! And Again! And Again!

Posted on September 2, 2011March 25, 2014 by Katharine

On the way down to the chicken house, to take my girlies some scraps, today, I startle a squirrel, which bounds into the woods, startling me, in return.

Next, a deer leaps from its hiding place near the edge of the woods and races after the squirrel, such rattling of leaves and scrambling of footsteps as I’ve not heard in a while.

As I near the hen-house, which is 2/3 wood shed, I hear more scrambling. What a menagerie around here, today! I hear it again. Hmm. This is not the usual. The hennies are making a different sound, too, one I’ve heard too many times before. They’re saying, “We don’t like the sounds and smells around here, at all.”

I stop my crunching advance and listen. Another small movement comes from under the worm table. (Yeah, worm table. Gotta post about those soon.) I toss a small rock over there to scare whatever it is.

Nothing.

I begin thinking about snakes. We’ve seen a timber rattler around here, before, and it’s been so hot and dry, and there is water inside the chicken house . . .

I realize I am not dressed for actual danger, in a summer dress and flip-flops, so I really need to size up the situation.

Inching along, I peer around a corner and gasp.

There, in the deep shadows, is the glowing-eyed face of a huge, fat raccoon.

I immediately back up, out of its sight. A cornered raccoon can be deadly, roughly as dangerous as a pit bull. Odd that it just sat there looking at me.

Not wearing decent shoes, and not having my phone with me, I know the best plan is to retreat up to the house and think. Calling my husband, I learn the raccoon probably is caught in a trap, which explains why it did not attack, flee, or even move. Then he explains to me how to unlock our rifle, volunteering to come home early and help me.

I feel I ought to be able to do this, though, and want to try. So I change into jeans and real shoes, get a drink of water for all this heat and exercise, grab the rifle, and return to the chicken house via a different way, around the shop, to approach it from behind. Several branches of briars are in my path and with my nerves about to snap, I pick my way through to where I know my moment of truth awaits me.

I peer into that dark place, again, and sure enough, the raccoon is still there. I aim and squeeze the trigger.

Nothing.

Hmm. I pull out my cell phone to ask my husband a few more questions. Aarrgh! I’ve unknowingly grabbed our son’s rifle. Of course, it is not loaded. By now my husband seems really eager to come home. But I still think I can do it and I still want to try, so, it’s back up to the house, for me, to exchange rifles and get another drink of water, and then back I go, down to the chicken house.

Since the terrain continues downhill, beyond the building, I choose a different vantage point, this time, one that puts me on a lower elevation and puts the ‘coon more at my level. I’m feeling like quite the predator, now. I aim and this time the satisfying “pop” of success makes me feel lots more intelligent.

Until I realize I’ve missed the critter entirely. Sighs.

I move closer and try again. What! Now the rifle isn’t working, again. Oh, brother!

Thinking it must have had only one bullet, I return to the house and call my husband once more, telling him I give up. He agrees to come home. I drink more water and return to putting the finishing touches on my closet project.

That was enough excitement for nothing, I think, but I do love having the experience!

And my husband says, “I never married you for a hunting buddy, anyway.”

Believe it or not!, Who's the mom here?, Wisdom

This. Means. War.

Posted on August 26, 2011June 6, 2014 by Katharine

Just finished a good book by SQ. Rushnell containing a moving story about the Vietnam War and the damage it caused. It mentions the memorial, the 500-foot long black wall. It tells of visitors moved to tears by the more than 58,000 unlived lives and living heartaches represented there.

To say they died trying to protect us would be a fair statement even if some disagreed.

We could not say that about some others who have died:

The aborted ones have no memorial to speak of.

Oh, sometimes we display a few wooden crosses to make a statement, a temporary protest. When we put the crosses away later, though, we prove it is not a memorial.

But if a similar black wall existed for these dead, it would have to be at least a thousand times longer than the one memorializing the war dead. At least.

I read that three million people visit the Vietnam War Memorial each year. Hard to believe roughly 10,000 visits per day, isn’t it.

But at that same rate, if the aborted ones could have lived to visit the Wall, it would have taken them about 17 years, just to go there. It is that many.

To buy one rose for each MILLION would cost about $250.

To educate them, the public schools would have garnered about $270 billion.

Per year.

And that’s where their money really went.

Believe it or not!, Who's the mom here?, Womanhood

Texas and California Have Disappeared.

Posted on August 25, 2011January 19, 2014 by Katharine

Note: I wrote this long ago, but it is still true, today, except the number now is 55,000,000. That’s 55 millions. Look around you, folks; who’s missing?

Twenty-seven years ago, our Supreme Court nullified enough states’ laws that it effectively provided for the killing of the equivalent of 52 million US citizens. What kind of number is 52,000,000?

Try thinking about 17% of us missing.

Nearly the entire populations of California and Texas.

Gone.

More than all of New York, Florida, and Illinois.

Wiped out.

All of Pennsylvania, Ohio, Michigan, Georgia, and North Carolina.

Eliminated.

New Jersey, Virginia, Washington, Massachusetts, Indiana, Arizona, Tennessee, and Missouri.

Disappeared

Or, Maryland, Wisconsin, Minnesota, Colorado, Alabama, South Carolina, Louisiana, Kentucky, Oregon, Oklahoma, Connecticut, and Iowa.

ALL GONE.

This is about whole states missing. All the people who built, spoke, taught, laughed, cried, worshiped, drove cars, doctored, nursed, grew trees, or developed technology, gone from more than one state. A wilderness, untouched by man, not even one firefighter to combat the effects of lightning.

And we don’t really notice.

They were enough to have replenished our teachers 2 or 3 times, our doctors, 78 times.

And lost tax revenue? $153 billion.

We’re shooting ourselves in the foot.

Believe it or not!, Blessings of Habit, Good ol' days, Home School, Inspiring, Recipes, Who's the mom here?, Wisdom, Womanhood

Postaday Challenge – January Favorites – 2

Posted on August 23, 2011January 20, 2015 by Katharine

I look out my window and see dead trees, grass that’s brown and crunchy like Wheaties, cat dish always needing water . . . with all the heat we’ve had, isn’t it hilarious to read these old posts! Enjoy!

DAY OFF #2

Repairmen of streets, wires, and buildings will get our roads safe and everyone back in their places eventually.

In the meantime, we play in the snow.

The day begins with Dad shoveling snow and bleary-eyed offspring wandering into the kitchen to ask, “What is that noise?” We so seldom have the pleasure.

Now our snowman stands watch. Our cars are decorated with snow objects. Lots of hot cocoa has slipped away. I enjoyed the crazy antics of our two home-bound adult kids, playing in the snow as if they were grade-schoolers. How thankful I am for the snow! Realizing they can still find joy in each other’s company is bliss to this mom.

ALSO (here comes the fun part) THEY CAN PUT ON AND REMOVE THEIR OWN WRAPS!

THEY CAN HEAT THEIR OWN WATER AND STIR UP THEIR OWN HOT COCOA!

THEY CAN HANG ALL THEIR WET THINGS TO DRY!

THEY REMEMBER TO SHUT THE DOOR!

THEY THINK ABOUT NOT TRACKING THE HOUSE WITH SNOW AND MUD!

I get all the same fun as when they were younger, with none of the work.

Another amazing thing: No one grumbles today that the Internet is “down-ish”. We all have decided to do traditional snow-day fun and forget about the rest of the world. I love it. Board games, non-electric musical instruments, laundry hanging on wooden racks by the wood stove, homemade food, and wild birds have risen to the top of our most-selected interests list and everyone is content.

And I wonder: How is it in other homes? I hope you and yours enjoy a great day, today. I pray God grant you peace and contentment.

And snow.