My mother sent me to this nonprofit website (www.freerice.com), and it’s totally cool! It’s a quick and easy way to improve your vocabulary and help feed the hungry at the same time. The site offers a vocabulary game; and you can spend just a few seconds, or up to several minutes playing—it’s up to you.
How does playing the vocabulary game help you?
According to the FreeRice website, playing the vocabulary game will help you (adults) in all your business communications, including speaking and writing more effectively and persuasively, thus helping you to become more successful at your job. And if you’re a student, it will help boost your scores on tests, as well as help you read faster, and comprehend more of what you read. Even after playing the game for just a few days, “words you have never consciously used before will begin to pop into your head while you are speaking or writing. You will feel yourself using and knowing more words.”
How does playing the vocabulary game help someone else?
For every vocabulary word you get right, rice is distributed by the United Nations World Food Program (WFP) to feed the hungry. It’s the world’s largest food agency, and works with over 1,000 other organizations in over 75 countries. On top of providing food, WFP helps hungry people to become more self-reliant so they can escape hunger for good.
So go ahead, take a break from work and play. Go help yourself, and help someone else!
www.freerice.com
I'm a Terrible Mom
I’m a terrible mom. Yup, it’s true. It’s especially tough to admit this since being a stay-at-home mom has been my chosen profession for the past 14 years.
But time has passed and my “babies” are now 13 and 16, and very self-sufficient. So, with visions of college and retirement expenses looming in our future, I decided it was time to reenter the work force. I was excited about starting a career again. I established Write Expressions and began doing freelance writing work out of our home.
From the beginning it was a battle for my time. I grumbled against the imagined sabotage plot against me, as family and volunteer commitments continually pulled me away from achieving my goals. My frustration grew and finally peaked one day a few weeks ago. Fed up with getting nothing done for days, I came up with the brilliant idea to turn off the radio, turn down the answering machine volume, and turn off the phone ringer.
Diving in, I worked steadily all that morning, feeling great about everything I was getting accomplished. Then at 12:30 p.m. I heard the front door open, and my daughter’s voice calling, “Mom?”
Shocked to find her there, I took one look at her face and could tell she was sick.
“I couldn’t get a hold of you. So I called Mrs. Thompson and she brought me home,” she said, gesturing to the driveway, where one of my closest friends was still sitting in her car.
I ran outside, covering my face with my hands. “I’m so sorry!” I cried. I’m a terrible mom!”
“No, you’re not!” she replied without a trace of judgment in her voice. She is a social worker, and works out of her home as well. “If I’d been in a meeting or on a phone call, it could easily have happened to me too.”
But I couldn’t shake the feeling. Especially when I went back inside to find my big 16-year-old baby girl crying because she had a fever, chills, sore throat, and no mommy to drive her home. I gave her some medicine, tucked her into bed, and rubbed her back until she fell asleep.
As I quietly left her bedroom, I contemplated what I had been doing. I had, in effect, been putting my new career ahead of my old one. I’d lost the focus of why I was at home in the first place.
As excited as I am about pursuing this new career, I still have a job to do here at home. I’m not finished yet. I can’t shove it all aside believing I’ve put in enough time and effort already so now it’s my turn. Of course, this doesn’t mean I can’t continue pursuing my writing and following my dream. But I have to put it in perspective. While my children are here, I still need to give them my all.
So now I’ve got my new phone with caller I.D. sitting beside me so I can see who it is when it rings. And if it’s my kid, this time I’ll take that call!
But time has passed and my “babies” are now 13 and 16, and very self-sufficient. So, with visions of college and retirement expenses looming in our future, I decided it was time to reenter the work force. I was excited about starting a career again. I established Write Expressions and began doing freelance writing work out of our home.
From the beginning it was a battle for my time. I grumbled against the imagined sabotage plot against me, as family and volunteer commitments continually pulled me away from achieving my goals. My frustration grew and finally peaked one day a few weeks ago. Fed up with getting nothing done for days, I came up with the brilliant idea to turn off the radio, turn down the answering machine volume, and turn off the phone ringer.
Diving in, I worked steadily all that morning, feeling great about everything I was getting accomplished. Then at 12:30 p.m. I heard the front door open, and my daughter’s voice calling, “Mom?”
Shocked to find her there, I took one look at her face and could tell she was sick.
“I couldn’t get a hold of you. So I called Mrs. Thompson and she brought me home,” she said, gesturing to the driveway, where one of my closest friends was still sitting in her car.
I ran outside, covering my face with my hands. “I’m so sorry!” I cried. I’m a terrible mom!”
“No, you’re not!” she replied without a trace of judgment in her voice. She is a social worker, and works out of her home as well. “If I’d been in a meeting or on a phone call, it could easily have happened to me too.”
But I couldn’t shake the feeling. Especially when I went back inside to find my big 16-year-old baby girl crying because she had a fever, chills, sore throat, and no mommy to drive her home. I gave her some medicine, tucked her into bed, and rubbed her back until she fell asleep.
As I quietly left her bedroom, I contemplated what I had been doing. I had, in effect, been putting my new career ahead of my old one. I’d lost the focus of why I was at home in the first place.
As excited as I am about pursuing this new career, I still have a job to do here at home. I’m not finished yet. I can’t shove it all aside believing I’ve put in enough time and effort already so now it’s my turn. Of course, this doesn’t mean I can’t continue pursuing my writing and following my dream. But I have to put it in perspective. While my children are here, I still need to give them my all.
So now I’ve got my new phone with caller I.D. sitting beside me so I can see who it is when it rings. And if it’s my kid, this time I’ll take that call!
When Headlines Mislead
I was visiting my mother-in-law in Ludington, Michigan during the week between Christmas and New Year’s Eve, and I read a letter to the editor in the December 28, 2007 issue of her local paper, “Ludington Daily News.” The letter was written by Phil DeVries, a soldier from our brave troops currently deployed in Afghanistan.
I have long wondered about the media coverage of the war--wondered why we only hear negative stories about what is going on there. It’s disappointing that our media cannot control their biases when providing us the “news” of the situation. This soldier’s letter to the editor really says it all:
When Headlines Don’t Speak the Truth
Greetings from Afghanistan. I hope this e-note finds everyone in good health and better spirits. I wish I could be a little closer to family this time of year, but geography and duty do not permit at this time.
Thank you for your kind support. We are doing well there and doing our best to make you all proud of us by spreading peace and stability in Afghanistan. While I cannot go into details, we’ve been very rough on the Taliban and we are making sure that 2008 will be an even worse year for them.
I have to admit that the biggest disappointments of this deployment have come from the U.S. media. It isn’t that I think they don’t understand what’s happening over here, I believe they are intentionally portraying everything they can in the worst possible light. Headlines are the most attention getting part of the news (and therefore the worst offenders of the truth). Here are two examples:
Example 1 headline—‘NATO: Bomber kills 1 Italian Soldier and 13 Others’. Sounds like a NATO aircraft dropped bombs that killed 14 friendly troops. Another friendly fire story right? Actual story—a Taliban suicide bomber detonated himself, killing one Italian soldier who was helping to rebuild a bridge, three Afghan adults and nine Afghan children. All of the civilians were innocent bystanders. Thus, the total of ‘others’ killed included the bomber himself. Please notice the headline didn’t mention anything about the Taliban killing innocent bystanders or children.
Example 2 headline—‘General Ban on Women’s Freedom in Afghanistan’. Sounds like the democracy our troops are supporting (President Karzai’s Islamic Republic of Afghanistan) cracked down on women freedoms across the country (i.e. General Ban on Women’s Freedom) right? Actual story? U.N. Secretary General Kim Ban Moon gave a speech praising Afghanistan for its progress on women’s rights in Afghanistan. Thus, some editor had to be pretty creative (and misleading) to shorten U.N. Secretary General Kim Ban Moon down to ‘General Ban.’ Then, by deleting anything mentioning that he gave a speech, the subject could then be connected with ‘on women’s freedom in Afghanistan’ to be factually correct and entirely misleading at the same time. You could get the truth only if you read the entire story. If you just read the headline, you got completely the wrong story.
On more than one occasion, I’ve had to explain just how badly off the media is and that while there are threats to our safety over here, the media severely hyperinflates the danger in order to sell itself better.
Isn’t that sad? I find this incredibly disheartening--that our media plays these kinds of games, using their power to negatively influence public perception, instead of simply relaying the truth. What do you think about this soldier’s perspective on the media’s negative/sensationalistic bias when covering the situation in Afghanistan?
I have long wondered about the media coverage of the war--wondered why we only hear negative stories about what is going on there. It’s disappointing that our media cannot control their biases when providing us the “news” of the situation. This soldier’s letter to the editor really says it all:
When Headlines Don’t Speak the Truth
Greetings from Afghanistan. I hope this e-note finds everyone in good health and better spirits. I wish I could be a little closer to family this time of year, but geography and duty do not permit at this time.
Thank you for your kind support. We are doing well there and doing our best to make you all proud of us by spreading peace and stability in Afghanistan. While I cannot go into details, we’ve been very rough on the Taliban and we are making sure that 2008 will be an even worse year for them.
I have to admit that the biggest disappointments of this deployment have come from the U.S. media. It isn’t that I think they don’t understand what’s happening over here, I believe they are intentionally portraying everything they can in the worst possible light. Headlines are the most attention getting part of the news (and therefore the worst offenders of the truth). Here are two examples:
Example 1 headline—‘NATO: Bomber kills 1 Italian Soldier and 13 Others’. Sounds like a NATO aircraft dropped bombs that killed 14 friendly troops. Another friendly fire story right? Actual story—a Taliban suicide bomber detonated himself, killing one Italian soldier who was helping to rebuild a bridge, three Afghan adults and nine Afghan children. All of the civilians were innocent bystanders. Thus, the total of ‘others’ killed included the bomber himself. Please notice the headline didn’t mention anything about the Taliban killing innocent bystanders or children.
Example 2 headline—‘General Ban on Women’s Freedom in Afghanistan’. Sounds like the democracy our troops are supporting (President Karzai’s Islamic Republic of Afghanistan) cracked down on women freedoms across the country (i.e. General Ban on Women’s Freedom) right? Actual story? U.N. Secretary General Kim Ban Moon gave a speech praising Afghanistan for its progress on women’s rights in Afghanistan. Thus, some editor had to be pretty creative (and misleading) to shorten U.N. Secretary General Kim Ban Moon down to ‘General Ban.’ Then, by deleting anything mentioning that he gave a speech, the subject could then be connected with ‘on women’s freedom in Afghanistan’ to be factually correct and entirely misleading at the same time. You could get the truth only if you read the entire story. If you just read the headline, you got completely the wrong story.
On more than one occasion, I’ve had to explain just how badly off the media is and that while there are threats to our safety over here, the media severely hyperinflates the danger in order to sell itself better.
Isn’t that sad? I find this incredibly disheartening--that our media plays these kinds of games, using their power to negatively influence public perception, instead of simply relaying the truth. What do you think about this soldier’s perspective on the media’s negative/sensationalistic bias when covering the situation in Afghanistan?
New Math
You know something? I actually like math. I’m one of those weirdos who actually likes solving math problems. They’re just so black and white. No hidden meanings, no areas of gray; everything you need to find the answer is right there in front of you.
Always confident in my abilities to help my kids solve any math problems that came their way, I blazed merrily along, until my joy was brought to an abrupt halt. And the cause? New Math!
I’ll tell you, it took a lot for me to dread helping my child with math homework. But it finally happened. They initiated this New Math when my daughter was in fifth grade and my son was in kindergarten. Never mind that the Old Math was working perfectly fine.
The mere question, “Can you help me with this problem, mom?” now brought with it, feelings of anxiety and trepidation. What new torturous method had they devised now to teach simple addition and subtraction?
After several months of this, I was talking with my mother when she’d stopped by for a visit. A retired elementary school teacher, she listened patiently, sipping the cup of tea I’d poured, while I whined and complained about how ridiculous this New Math was. I began to describe a particularly confusing method my daughter was currently learning to solve three-digit long division problems.
“I don’t know, mom, they make some big crossword-puzzle-looking thing, and then get a messed-up maze of numbers; then somehow from that they get the answer. It’s called the lettuce method or something. I can’t figure it out—it’s totally weird!” I said.
“Oh! You mean the lattice method! We used to teach that to our students years ago. You know, that’s the way George Washington learned to multiply.” she added with a significant nod.
Suddenly I had a brainstorm. Just like fashion, math goes in and out of style. It’s the same stuff being constantly regurgitated every few decades with a new name. Like pedal pushers and capris, like bell bottoms and flares, like Old Math and New Math.
So here’s what I propose: instead of we parents struggling to help our children sort through all this ridiculous New Math, why don’t we just have the grandparents do it. It’s the same stuff they learned anyway—so it’s not “new” to them.
Then when our children grow up, and have children of their own, we can help our grandchildren with their math. Our children will be moaning and groaning over the “new” ridiculously confusing ways of doing basic long division problems. Or maybe they won’t understand why their children are learning to simply add columns of numbers straight up and down; then we grandparents will stroll in and save the day. Explaining the New (OLD!) Math techniques with ease.
Less stress for everyone. Yup, that’s the ticket—let’s have the grandparents do it.
Always confident in my abilities to help my kids solve any math problems that came their way, I blazed merrily along, until my joy was brought to an abrupt halt. And the cause? New Math!
I’ll tell you, it took a lot for me to dread helping my child with math homework. But it finally happened. They initiated this New Math when my daughter was in fifth grade and my son was in kindergarten. Never mind that the Old Math was working perfectly fine.
The mere question, “Can you help me with this problem, mom?” now brought with it, feelings of anxiety and trepidation. What new torturous method had they devised now to teach simple addition and subtraction?
After several months of this, I was talking with my mother when she’d stopped by for a visit. A retired elementary school teacher, she listened patiently, sipping the cup of tea I’d poured, while I whined and complained about how ridiculous this New Math was. I began to describe a particularly confusing method my daughter was currently learning to solve three-digit long division problems.
“I don’t know, mom, they make some big crossword-puzzle-looking thing, and then get a messed-up maze of numbers; then somehow from that they get the answer. It’s called the lettuce method or something. I can’t figure it out—it’s totally weird!” I said.
“Oh! You mean the lattice method! We used to teach that to our students years ago. You know, that’s the way George Washington learned to multiply.” she added with a significant nod.
Suddenly I had a brainstorm. Just like fashion, math goes in and out of style. It’s the same stuff being constantly regurgitated every few decades with a new name. Like pedal pushers and capris, like bell bottoms and flares, like Old Math and New Math.
So here’s what I propose: instead of we parents struggling to help our children sort through all this ridiculous New Math, why don’t we just have the grandparents do it. It’s the same stuff they learned anyway—so it’s not “new” to them.
Then when our children grow up, and have children of their own, we can help our grandchildren with their math. Our children will be moaning and groaning over the “new” ridiculously confusing ways of doing basic long division problems. Or maybe they won’t understand why their children are learning to simply add columns of numbers straight up and down; then we grandparents will stroll in and save the day. Explaining the New (OLD!) Math techniques with ease.
Less stress for everyone. Yup, that’s the ticket—let’s have the grandparents do it.
Road Rage: My Dirty Little Secret Weapon
I was giving my son and some of his friends a ride to school yesterday, when one friend commented that I was “such a calm driver.” (We were stuck in some very slow-moving traffic.) She compared me to her mother, who she said would rant and rage, and get extremely angry whenever she got into driving situations like the one we were in. I smiled inwardly, feeling secretly pleased with the compliment, until my son loudly snorted, pulling my dirty little secret weapon out of the glove box to show her.
You see, I used to be very much like this girl’s mother. When I was younger, I would bluster and fume while stuck in bumper-to-bumper rush-hour traffic. I would shoot evil glares combined with loud car honking toward all those cars that cut me off/drove too slow/fill in the blank.
But now, as a mature driver in my forties, I simply take a deep breath, and blow it out, releasing all those negative feelings. Then, when I deem the situation appropriate, I calmly pull out my secret weapon.
My secret weapon is a packet of parking tickets which I bought at a local gag/gift shop. Instead of scribbling a frustrated, angry note to leave on the F-150 truck which couldn’t possibly have been squeezed into one regular-size parking space, or one for the driver who was in such a hurry he simply didn’t have time to park between the lines, I’ve found it necessary to leave one of my tickets safely tucked under the wipers of the offending automobiles. I do this in the hope that their drivers will benefit from the sage advice printed there.
At first glance, the tickets appear real, with a space to fill in the date, time, delinquent driver’s vehicle make and model, etc. But they read as follows:
(unofficial)
PARKING TICKET
Unfortunately, this is not a real parking ticket. You are part of a small group of inconsiderate drivers who think they are better than everyone else. Your inability to park like a human being (probably not the first time) has caused the rest of us to waste time searching for additional parking. You have taken enough space to generously house three herds of elephants, a black zebra with white stripes, a white zebra with black stripes, two orangutans (one of each sex—and obviously your parents!)
The reason for giving you this ticket is so that maybe in the future you may consider someone else. Try to compensate for your multitude of inadequacies in other ways that do not affect the rest of us.
Since someone like you will probably never understand the point of this ticket, I hope your motor falls out while you are driving on some remote road and that a swarm of bees and their relatives decide to create their next hive in your underwear!
Yes, at times I truly feel it is my duty to give out one of these tickets. I mean really, I’m only trying to help these individuals become better drivers. (My son is rolling his eyes right now.) Maybe some day, I’ll actually grow up. But for now, drivers beware, I’m armed and ready!
You see, I used to be very much like this girl’s mother. When I was younger, I would bluster and fume while stuck in bumper-to-bumper rush-hour traffic. I would shoot evil glares combined with loud car honking toward all those cars that cut me off/drove too slow/fill in the blank.
But now, as a mature driver in my forties, I simply take a deep breath, and blow it out, releasing all those negative feelings. Then, when I deem the situation appropriate, I calmly pull out my secret weapon.
My secret weapon is a packet of parking tickets which I bought at a local gag/gift shop. Instead of scribbling a frustrated, angry note to leave on the F-150 truck which couldn’t possibly have been squeezed into one regular-size parking space, or one for the driver who was in such a hurry he simply didn’t have time to park between the lines, I’ve found it necessary to leave one of my tickets safely tucked under the wipers of the offending automobiles. I do this in the hope that their drivers will benefit from the sage advice printed there.
At first glance, the tickets appear real, with a space to fill in the date, time, delinquent driver’s vehicle make and model, etc. But they read as follows:
(unofficial)
PARKING TICKET
Unfortunately, this is not a real parking ticket. You are part of a small group of inconsiderate drivers who think they are better than everyone else. Your inability to park like a human being (probably not the first time) has caused the rest of us to waste time searching for additional parking. You have taken enough space to generously house three herds of elephants, a black zebra with white stripes, a white zebra with black stripes, two orangutans (one of each sex—and obviously your parents!)
The reason for giving you this ticket is so that maybe in the future you may consider someone else. Try to compensate for your multitude of inadequacies in other ways that do not affect the rest of us.
Since someone like you will probably never understand the point of this ticket, I hope your motor falls out while you are driving on some remote road and that a swarm of bees and their relatives decide to create their next hive in your underwear!
Yes, at times I truly feel it is my duty to give out one of these tickets. I mean really, I’m only trying to help these individuals become better drivers. (My son is rolling his eyes right now.) Maybe some day, I’ll actually grow up. But for now, drivers beware, I’m armed and ready!
What the Blankety-blank is Wrong With Swearing
My 15-year-old daughter just won the “Clean Mouth Award.” And no, this is not an award given out by her dentist or orthodontist for her exceptionally clean teeth or fresh breath. No, this award was given to her by her cross-country teammates at their annual banquet.
The team captains come up with a fun/funny award for every girl on the team, and out of all 45 girls, she received the “Clean Mouth Award.” And I have to say, thumbs up, baby!
My daughter started noticing back in middle school, that swearing was becoming vogue. The “cool” way to talk. At that point she made a decision, a promise to herself, that she would not swear. Her friends teased her about it (and still do), but she has held strong despite the peer pressure.
When I was in high school, kids would swear a bit. You’d catch words here and there, sprinkled throughout conversations. But it wasn’t nearly as prevalent as it is today. The group my daughter hangs out with are sweet, polite and friendly. They are good students, some of the brightest and the best …and they swear like sailors. (No offense meant to any nonswearing sailors, it’s just an expression!)
I was blissfully unaware of this new teenage talk trend until I recently came across a piece of paper that my daughter left lying on the kitchen counter. It was a note written to her by a couple of her friends. Just some goofy cartoon drawings and inside jokes that she and her friends share. But as I scanned the page, my mouth fell open. When my daughter arrived home, I handed it to her.
“Is this really the way your friends talk?” I asked.
“Yes,” she blushed.
“Wow! Then I give you even more credit for the stand you’ve taken than I originally did.”
I was impressed. It would be easy to just fall in with the crowd; especially being surrounded by it all day. I’m not so certain that at the same age, I would have had the strength of spirit to stand up in the face of such a powerful trend and said “nope--not doin’ it,” the way she has.
That kind of strength in one so young is inspirational to me. I’ve always believed we have something to learn from everyone we meet. And my kids are teaching me new things all the time. So here’s one more lesson to add. There’s that part in the Bible that talks about the balancing act of being “in the world” but not “of the world.” As far as I’m concerned, what an awesome start.
The team captains come up with a fun/funny award for every girl on the team, and out of all 45 girls, she received the “Clean Mouth Award.” And I have to say, thumbs up, baby!
My daughter started noticing back in middle school, that swearing was becoming vogue. The “cool” way to talk. At that point she made a decision, a promise to herself, that she would not swear. Her friends teased her about it (and still do), but she has held strong despite the peer pressure.
When I was in high school, kids would swear a bit. You’d catch words here and there, sprinkled throughout conversations. But it wasn’t nearly as prevalent as it is today. The group my daughter hangs out with are sweet, polite and friendly. They are good students, some of the brightest and the best …and they swear like sailors. (No offense meant to any nonswearing sailors, it’s just an expression!)
I was blissfully unaware of this new teenage talk trend until I recently came across a piece of paper that my daughter left lying on the kitchen counter. It was a note written to her by a couple of her friends. Just some goofy cartoon drawings and inside jokes that she and her friends share. But as I scanned the page, my mouth fell open. When my daughter arrived home, I handed it to her.
“Is this really the way your friends talk?” I asked.
“Yes,” she blushed.
“Wow! Then I give you even more credit for the stand you’ve taken than I originally did.”
I was impressed. It would be easy to just fall in with the crowd; especially being surrounded by it all day. I’m not so certain that at the same age, I would have had the strength of spirit to stand up in the face of such a powerful trend and said “nope--not doin’ it,” the way she has.
That kind of strength in one so young is inspirational to me. I’ve always believed we have something to learn from everyone we meet. And my kids are teaching me new things all the time. So here’s one more lesson to add. There’s that part in the Bible that talks about the balancing act of being “in the world” but not “of the world.” As far as I’m concerned, what an awesome start.
Loose Hope
My mom “forwards” a devotional blog to me every day. Sometimes I read them, sometimes I don’t. But I read it today; and there was a typo in the devotional that read “loose hope” instead of “lose hope.” That really struck me. My family and I are in a situation right now where we really do need to “loose hope.”
As a result of certain circumstances, my husband is out of work, and we currently have no income coming into our household. We’re in medical insurance limbo, so naturally our daughter broke her wrist in a soccer game last week. And while driving to pick up our son yesterday, my husband’s car developed a flat tire.
Hmmm…it would be easy to wallow in negativity here, wouldn’t it? But instead, the words of a dear friend are keeping up a steady mantra in my head. “God is good. God is good. God is good.”
So instead of wallowing, I’m “loosing hope” on this whole situation. I pray that we will be able to make ends meet, and I’m turning all my worry over to the Big Guy. In the meantime, I’ll focus on everything positive we’ve got going on in our lives today. We still have a roof over our heads, we have food to eat, we’ve got clothes to wear, and we’re incredibly blessed with friends and family to encourage us.
We’re rich.
As a result of certain circumstances, my husband is out of work, and we currently have no income coming into our household. We’re in medical insurance limbo, so naturally our daughter broke her wrist in a soccer game last week. And while driving to pick up our son yesterday, my husband’s car developed a flat tire.
Hmmm…it would be easy to wallow in negativity here, wouldn’t it? But instead, the words of a dear friend are keeping up a steady mantra in my head. “God is good. God is good. God is good.”
So instead of wallowing, I’m “loosing hope” on this whole situation. I pray that we will be able to make ends meet, and I’m turning all my worry over to the Big Guy. In the meantime, I’ll focus on everything positive we’ve got going on in our lives today. We still have a roof over our heads, we have food to eat, we’ve got clothes to wear, and we’re incredibly blessed with friends and family to encourage us.
We’re rich.
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