I once asked if water had calories in it. I am not proud of this moment. I was sixteen, but my obvious confusion by the laughter, cleared up immediately once Randy explained it to me. I knew that would happen. I only seem to be able to understand the logistics of something when a man is kind enough to mansplain it. My favorite thing is when they explain the workings of the female reproductive system.
A mansplanation is much like an explanation, but done so in a manner that is easier to understand for us women. You know, because our brains don’t work like men’s do.
One time, I was at the gas station standing there completely flabbergasted about what kind of snack I wanted to eat. Then a helpful gentleman moseyed up behind me, grabbed my hips and said, “Excuse me, little lady. I’m just trying to help you when I tell you that you probably don’t need any chocolate or a cookie. There are bananas for sale upfront at $.89 each.” He winked at me and walked away. So, that is when I got my first felony.
Thousands of mansplanations later, I am a Property Manager of over 185 rental properties which includes having to oversee many different vendors and contractors. Many of which whom are older and maler than I am. Some have no problem getting direction from a woman, but others feel the need to try to argue with me and mansplain everything.
I’ve had them mansplain the way air filters work and where they go, how to reset a garbage disposal, and how to find the cheapest tampons. Yes, they know everything. There is literally no need for us to learn anything.
But without the mansplanation, how would I have learned how to put air in my tires? How would I have learned the price per pound of groceries?
I hope one day to teach my own sons the art of mansplaining. I realize I am not a man, but I’ve experienced it enough to teach it, I believe. I’m sure a man will correct me if I’m wrong in this opinion.
Maybe once society gets this under their belt, we can work on the womansplanation. I’m imagining it to make a lot more sense and to include a lot more logic instead of, “Because I said so.” It might even include graphs and references.
Is it a bruise or is it a horrible muscle disease treatable with only the blood from slugs
Canva
He was born dramatic. Any little twinge of pain would cause blood curdling screams to erupt from his tiny newborn lips. It didn’t get better as he got older. Instead, the screams got louder and the fury unfathomable. I clung to the hope that maybe he would be a singer or an actor.
Before the hypochondria set in, he was terrified of external items and situations. Trains were the first terrorizing thing for him and he was sure they were all out to get him. No matter where we were at, if he heard a train, he would absolutely go ballistic. He would alternately panic and run off or just fall down in a heap of dead weight determined to go on no further.
Fall, and October specifically, were a disaster for many years due to his certainty that pumpkins were out to get him.
After the trains, it turned to the weather. Any ominous clouds meant that our deaths were imminent. Any weather at all was a tornado. The beach was not a place to vacation, but a hell on earth where hurricanes murdered people daily.
The weather stage seemed like it had no end in sight. Years passed and then, at eight years old, my son was told about WebMD. As you can imagine, this was my worst nightmare. I would come home from work to his pleading to go to the hospital. He had confirmed his worst fear by diagnosing himself with elbow cancer or sickle cell disease. I spent six months trying to convince him that he did not have AIDS.
This child is number three of my four biological children and holds first place for keeping me green at this mothering thing. Every issue or trial that he puts me through is completely new to me and never to be repeated again. It is also a new scenario for my own mother and any other parent that I have ever asked how to deal with his shenanigans.
Fast forward to now. He is a tall, handsome fourteen year old with a slew of friends and a sharp wit. He is confident and popular and shows no signs outwardly of the social skills I was worried about him having. However, he still wrestles with this hypochondria/paranoia. I try to shield him from as much as I can, but he finds ways to listen or watch the news. He alternates now between worrying about what catastrophe will shortly end all of humanity and what ailment that I am not worrying enough about, which will turn fatal any second.
I wish I could end this article with a statement such as, the extract of hummus ended up curing this! Or, his blood was low on orange juice and a quick infusion fixed him right up.
He is still a ball of nerves, but it has gotten better. However, we are both certain that I am dropping the ball on something. I told him that he has plenty of time to figure out specifically how I’ve failed him. He can tell the therapist when he’s older. For now, I will continue to make him safe and loved. He has learned to laugh at himself when he becomes unreasonable and I think that’s as good a place to start as any.
Though emotional, she will smile through extraordinary darkness
Kylie
They hold the darkness without complaint and seem only to want to make others laugh and smile. No one notices when they go quiet or they assume them to always be happy and upbeat
I used to fight the depression. I would tell myself to carry my burdens through the darkness and come out harder with the world. I would sleep constantly to feel the attachment I only experienced while in my dreams. My sadness would cause visible irritation to my loved ones, so I pushed it down and away. I slept and bore this cross alone.
Eventually, I would start to awaken and to feel the emotions offered. In a few weeks, I would barely remember my head against the pillow and my presence being unstable.
Don’t disregard the friends that smile all the time. Don’t ignore the ones who laugh and never talk about their problems. They may need you the most. You’re probably asking how you are to know if no one says anything. I just like to assume everyone needs a friend and be available as often as possible.
Very rarely will you get a direct suicide threat or something concrete to go off of. You have to trust your instincts and be attuned to the feelings of the people that are around you.
Be Consistent
Be a consistent friend. Life gets in everyone’s way sometimes, but we have to put effort into our friendships just like we do any other relationship to maintain it. Don’t go weeks without a check-in via text, call, or in person. Everyone needs to know they are loved and valued. One-sided friendships, where one person does all, or the majority of the communicating and plan-making, are depressing and unfair to the person doing everything. One person should not have to carry the entire weight of a relationship on their shoulders alone.
Be Human
People need others like them around that they can relate to. Not the ones that have an image to maintain or ones that act like Stepford wives. Talk to them about your own experiences that may relate to theirs. Share your struggles and your triumphs. Be the example that things do get better. Make sure they understand that the light is the brightest right after the darkness.
Don’t Be Condescending
Do not insult people with platitudes especially during hard times. That is the last thing anybody wants to hear. Don’t say that you know how they feel or tell them that tomorrow is another day. If all you know are generic platitudes, then just listen. Often times, listening is what they need the most. A listening ear is way more valuable than someone giving unsolicited advice on how to fix a situation they know nothing about personally.
Don’t Assume
The main thing is not to presume anyone’s emotional state by their outward display. We are taught at a young age, some more than others, to hide the feelings that make others uncomfortable. We are taught that feelings shown is the same as showing your weakness which could not be further from the truth. The brave are the ones that talk about what no one else will.
If you read the stories written by the suicidal, some of them have been saved by a kind word from a stranger or a phone call to a suicide hotline. What you say and do does make a difference. Sometimes, it can make all the difference. Keep your eyes open.
Picking on people comes naturally to me. My father was the king of humor, pranks, and shenanigans. Nobody was spared. I grew up never knowing if anything he said was to be taken seriously and respected or if I was in danger of mortal embarrassment.
Injuries were also known to happen as a result of his pranks. I, myself, was traumatized a few times and I know I was not alone. Yet, despite the pranks that failed, his humor has been the theme of his memory since his death. I have not heard many, if any, anecdotes that did not center around some joke he played on someone.
In his memory, I would like to put these pranks in writing. At least the ones that caused the most laughter and/or trauma. Has a dent in the world was not huge to all, but it was to me.
Snipe Hunting
This prank was not only done by him, but was and is used widely in the south. In particular, it is used on city people or people that aren’t familiar with hunting or wildlife.
He would invite and hype up some new recruit to go snipe hunting. They would wake up at 6 am and dress up all in camouflage. Outfitted with black paint all over their face and twigs in their hair, they would all tote a canvas or burlap bag and a stick into the darkness. Dad would drop the newbie off at “his tree” with some convoluted instructions on how to trap and kill said snipe. Seeing as how snipe doesn’t exist, the newbie would be left by the tree for hours while the rest went back to bed.
This was widely considered to be the unofficial initiation into our family for a long time.
Funeral Home
For as long as I can remember, my father worked at funeral homes. He would collect the dead during all hours, prepare cadavers, set up funerals, and many other things that go into the business of death.
As a child, I would have to go with him in the middle of the night often to collect the bodies. At first, I was terrified and he played upon that a great deal. But, he taught me invaluable advice which was not to be scared of the dead. It’s the living that hurt you.
The staff at the funeral home were very professional and were good at what they did. They were caring towards the bereaved and respectful at all times. When the home was empty and free of any services though, they brought the morale from depressing to fun in a variety of ways.
At my father’s funeral, the staff told stories about the number of new employees they had lost due to my father hiding in the storage trays, for the dead, during the new employee’s tour of the new workplace. When said employee got close, the tour guide would pull out the tray that my father was hiding in and my father would jump up and scare the ever loving shit out of them. It was priceless, but also traumatic.
That phrase, priceless, but traumatic, explains my father and my childhood to a tee.
Roof
In today’s times, this would have landed my father in jail, but the eighties were a different time with different rules. He loved to hoist me up onto the roof of my grandmother’s mobile home. After encouraging me to carefully look around, he would disappear. I would be stuck on the roof from minutes to, what felt like, hours.
Personally, I didn’t enjoy this as much as he did.
Turtle
One of his other pranks got him in trouble with my grandmother. I was around seven years old and taking a bubble bath in her garden tub which was the epitome of luxury back then. My dad came in to check on me and pulls a turtle out from behind his back. I was terrified of turtles because my dad liked to talk about snapping turtles very frequently. He said that if you were bitten by one, you had to wait for lightning before you could get it off.
Of course, in my child’s mind, I immediately was imagining how tough my life would be with a turtle dangling from my finger for months on end.
So as any terrified child would do I jumped out of the tub and immediately fell and smashed a hole in the sheet rock with my elbow. Which caused my grandmother to get mad at him because ruining her house is taking it too far. Apparently my sanity was fair game.
It’s been 12 years since his death and I miss his sense of humor more than anything no matter how traumatic it may have been at the time. I have inherited his ability to take life with a grain of salt. He and I both use humor and you to get through anything that life throws our way.
I look forward to seeing him again one day and I take comfort in knowing that my sister is up there in heaven with him now keeping him company. And, no, I don’t have any doubts that he made it there.
Some of these might explain my weirdness. My mom is not off the hook for that though, as she was also a factor in my personality.
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As someone with no health insurance, I have become a self-titled expert on home remedies and unusual cures. Some I have found through research, some from recommendations, but most have been handed down in my family throughout the generations.
Thousands of remedies have withstood the test of time by being passed down through the generations of families. Even now, many people distrust the medical profession and think they run it like a business. Meaning that if you keep someone sick or dependent on a medication, you will keep generating a profit. I believe there is some truth to that but, having a chronic illness, I cannot always self-treat. Luckily, I absolutely adore my general practitioner. Much like husbands, for me, I went through a lot of horrible ones before I found him.
Pho
This Vietnamese soup can cure almost anything! When I feel that telltale tickle in my throat or fatigue creeping up, my husband and I immediately phone in a to go order at the closest pho restaurant. I enjoy the chicken noodle pho, but any kind is enough to render a cure.
Mix in all the ingredients, the spicier the better, and consume! After that and a good night’s sleep, you will wake up as if nothing ever happened.
Vicks Vapor Rub
This rub smells as good as it works. Not only can it be used to disguise the smell of rotting flesh, my dad was a funeral home employee, but it can also be rubbed on the heels of your feet and covered with socks to rid you of a stubborn cough. I am tied on if it smells better or the same as Noxema.
It can also provide relief to sunburns.
Tobacco
I’m not encouraging you to take up smoking. When you hear the telltale scream of a wasp or bee sting, take the tobacco out of a cigarette or from a tin of chew and wad up to press on the sting. It takes the sting out almost instantly.
Don’t do like my brother did. When he was younger, he stole a pinch of my grandfather’s snuff and tried to hide it. He didn’t count on turning green and throwing up for a good thirty minutes so he was busted immediately.
Desitin
White crusty lips dried out from being sunburned or windburned get instantly better after a night treatment of Desitin on them. Desitin is a diaper rash ointment and tastes disgusting. Please don’t consume it, but it can clear up sun or wind burned lips faster than anything else I know. The next day, you wake up as good as new.
Crocs (the shoe)
I would just like to throw this one in. Crocs, the shoes not the animal, are absolutely 100% effective as a birth control measure.
Toothpaste
Do you have a massive zit that popped up suddenly before a big date or meeting? Instead of naming it and applying for a birth certificate, dab that baby with some toothpaste before bed. When you wake up, Zitty McZitterson will be but a crusty memory on your face.
I don’t know why but only the use of white toothpaste works for this.
Pickle Juice
Freaks all over the world, including me, love the taste of pickle juice. I hope that any reading this will be happy to know that there are health benefits along with the amazing briny taste! It is amazing, according to word on the street, for cramps and dehydration.
Grocery stores all over the world have caught on to this and now make it as a drink, aka no pickles included, and a popsicle. The world is a wondrous place indeed.
Soap
If you use this bar, you will become clean.
I’m kidding. Actually, I’m not kidding, you will become clean. But that is not where I was going with this. If you put an unwrapped, fresh bar of soap underneath your sheets it somehow causes lamp leg cramps to cease.
Leg cramps, a.k.a. Charlie horses, were a nightly torture for me during all four of my pregnancies. Since I have the best luck in the world, I discovered this remedy at the very end of my last pregnancy. For those that are not fluent in sarcasm, I was being very sarcastic when I stated that I have the best luck in the world.
Banana Peels
In 5th grade, I was plagued with warts all over both of my hands. They were embarrassing and caused me to keep my hands balled up in a fist so no one would look at them. My mother took me to the dermatologist countless times. After each painful treatment to freeze them off, they would grow back and bring a few friends to join them.
The summer after fifth grade, we made the ten hour drive to my Cajun grandmother’s house for our annual visit. It wasn’t long before she noticed my clasped hands.
Grabbing them, she pried them open and was greeted with the sight of 75 warts. Clicking her head and murmuring curses, she grabbed the bananas and started peeling them.
An hour later, my mother was making an army’s worth of banana bread and I had my warts treated. My grandmother put the peels, slimy side down, on my warts and then taped them down with duct tape. She swore that duct tape was the only one that would work. Every day, we changed out the banana peels and duct tape. Within a week, they had almost all gone away. They never came back.
Modern medicine is an amazing thing, but a doctor isn’t always needed. We got by in the past with herbal and homemade treatments and we can still use them for many things.
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Kylie’s Rants 