Seersucker Social

    For those of you that don’t know, I moonlight as a 1-3-year-old teacher at a Christian daycare when not blogging.  As you can imagine, working with a large group of small children leads to some pretty interesting discoveries about the human race.  I’ve known some of my kids since they were six weeks old, and every day I have the opportunity to watch them grow and learn. That said, this line of work has many ups and downs.  Money for things like paychecks and supplies are hard to come by. Staff turnover and burnout are extremely high. I’ve been trying to think of a way to share the nitty, gritty behind the scenes view of the childcare industry with you.  I finally came to the conclusion to borrow from Christian imagery so let’s discuss the seven levels of daycare hell. Surrounded by Snotty Children Who Want to Love You     The first thing I tell people who want to put their children in childcare is to prepare because...

Today, in the United States and in primarily Christian nations around the world, we celebrate a major Christian holiday: Easter Sunday.  According to the “good” book, on this prearranged day on the calendar, we celebrate the rise of Zombie Jesus three days after he was publicly crucified on a hill with other criminals by those damn, dirty Romans.  My information claims he did this so that the human race, hateful sinners that we are, could be saved from what his father, Capitol “G” god, would do to us if we weren’t.  That’s way more interesting than some silly fertility festival that we obviously borrow quite heavily from.  Although the Catholic church doesn’t openly support the practice, willing participants kick off Easter weekend on Good Friday by reenacting the gruesome details of the crucifixion in communities all over the world.    Here in the American Southeast, Good Friday is a bank holiday and plenty of businesses take the day off. ...

It’s time for another trip down memory lane, Dear Readers.  Last time, I regaled you with the tale of my childhood and the impact's religion had on me.  In this post, we will be moving on to discuss the next stage in my life: those awkward teen years.  I’ll go ahead and tell you that all those Eighties teen movies Mother made me watch did not prepare me for the realities of teenagedom.  To start, I was certainly no Ferris Bueller.  In fact, from the outside looking in, I was a fairly dull and easy teenage girl.  One who cared more about reading smutty books or fanfiction than boys or parties.  I could probably count on two hands the number of times I willingly left my house between the ages of twelve and fifteen.  If I set my mind on something, then I would carry it out, and for one reason or another, I was determined to be a hermit.     At the age of 12, I was “saved” at a youth conference that I attended with my Auntie M’s ...

Welcome back, everyone!  I sincerely apologize for not getting anything posted this week.  I have been such a busy little bee!  I finally went back to work full time at the daycare.  Go me.  I also started physical therapy for my neck/shoulder problem.  Cross your fingers that this works and I don't need surgery.   As previously stated, I will continue to post as I write.  I am stilling tinkering around with how frequent posts will be but, hopefully, the schedule will settle down soon.  Thanks for all of your patience with me.  Today, We’re going to go ahead and discuss one of the South's most prominent stereotypes.  For the sake of simplicity, I’m going to call it The Beverly Hillbillies Standard.  If you’ve never seen the old show, I’m positive YouTube has some clips lurking around.  Go on.  Take a Look.  Now, I’m not saying I don’t like The Beverly Hillbillies because I do.  I watched it ...

Grave of Cadet Cox. Jonesborogh, TN Hello Readers!  I would like to announce that it is currently my plan to post blogs as quickly as I can get them written.  Unfortunately, I have recently managed to fuck up my rotator cuff.  This injury is slowing down my writing/posting schedule.  This is due to pain and limitations on movement but predominantly because of the pain meds/muscle relaxers they have me on.  I want to sleep approximately 18 hours a day.  I have commented before on my constant tendency to find myself sick and/or injured.  Benefits of being an accident-prone hypochondriac.  I apologize in advance for the sporadic posting schedule that is sure to be had in the coming weeks.   As I mentioned in the previous post, Frequently Asked, one of the life skills I had to relearn after deconverting was how to prepare myself to deal with things like death and grief.  Dealing with the loss of a loved one is never an ea...