Tonight I watched a story on Inside Edition that exposed a dentist for the use of Papoose Boards. These boards are basically full-body child restraint systems that prevent them from flailing all about when the dentist is, I dunno, trying to drill your teeth? Anyway, the parents, who all signed waivers, were outraged because their children are now traumatized from the experience.
You've really got to see one in action to fully appreciate this tool. They may never admit it, but I know there are some parents out there who watched that story and thought to themselves, "Where can I get one of those?"
Some children are so damn bad they need to be papoosed. It is the ultimate timeout. It is non-violent, it prevents the child from harming themselves and others, and it prevents the destruction of property. It could be used in classrooms worldwide to control unruly students. If they won't sit still or keep their hands to themselves, papoose them and lean them up against the wall. They can wriggle all they want to, but still they shall be. And when you are completely restrained like that, all you can think of are your life's choices, and how they led you to this point.
I'm just saying, we could be on the leading edge of a non-violent discipline movement. Check out the video and judge for yourself: Papoose Boards
Showing posts with label parenthood. Show all posts
Showing posts with label parenthood. Show all posts
Saturday, April 28, 2012
Friday, April 27, 2012
They Don't Care About You
I honestly cannot wait to become a mother. In due time of course, but I'm really looking forward to the process. Especially the part when they begin to comprehend and retain what I am saying to them.
I am going to teach them all kinds of life lessons, including a very important one about being a pedestrian. The lesson is: Sweetheart, these people don't care about you. And even if they do care about you, they don't see you.
Half of the people on the road really do not give a fuck about you. This is a true statement. Their sentiment is, "Get your ass out of the road and you won't get hit." The other half actually do value your life more than you do, but THEY DO NOT SEE YOU. Either your clothes are too dark or they're texting or you're in their blind spot, or they just passed out, or whatever. At any rate, you as the pedestrian have the greatest duty to protect your life, so take those earbuds out of your ears and be on the lookout for stupid.
I am going to teach them all kinds of life lessons, including a very important one about being a pedestrian. The lesson is: Sweetheart, these people don't care about you. And even if they do care about you, they don't see you.
Half of the people on the road really do not give a fuck about you. This is a true statement. Their sentiment is, "Get your ass out of the road and you won't get hit." The other half actually do value your life more than you do, but THEY DO NOT SEE YOU. Either your clothes are too dark or they're texting or you're in their blind spot, or they just passed out, or whatever. At any rate, you as the pedestrian have the greatest duty to protect your life, so take those earbuds out of your ears and be on the lookout for stupid.
Tuesday, January 10, 2012
Bitch, You'd Better Make Straight A's!
I don't have kids of my own yet, but when I do, I know one thing- Bitch, you'd better make straight A's.
I was talking with a friend tonight who's recently given birth, and she described the sheer horror of the overall experience. Her baby's head tore her vaginal canal, and she had to be stitched from the inside out (44 stitches to be exact). She pushed so hard that she got a hemorrhoid. She developed vericose veins on her calf muscles, and stretch marks around her torso that look like something out of the movie Beastly.
Let me tell you something, you little fucker, if I'm going to go through all of this to get you here, oh, you'd better make straight A's. I mean STRAIGHT A's. No B's. No C's. Certainly no F's. Did I give you an F delivery? I could have. I could have pushed once and given up, but noooooo. I pushed until I ripped myself. You better push until you rip yourself too.
I was talking with a friend tonight who's recently given birth, and she described the sheer horror of the overall experience. Her baby's head tore her vaginal canal, and she had to be stitched from the inside out (44 stitches to be exact). She pushed so hard that she got a hemorrhoid. She developed vericose veins on her calf muscles, and stretch marks around her torso that look like something out of the movie Beastly.
Let me tell you something, you little fucker, if I'm going to go through all of this to get you here, oh, you'd better make straight A's. I mean STRAIGHT A's. No B's. No C's. Certainly no F's. Did I give you an F delivery? I could have. I could have pushed once and given up, but noooooo. I pushed until I ripped myself. You better push until you rip yourself too.
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