BE RESPONSIBLE. Or, why I think most crowdfunding is stupid.

When I went to college, I paid for it with some help from my parents, some from myself, some from teensy tiny scholarships, most of it in the form of loans from the US government that I will be paying back for ages.

When I bought my first car, I had a job. At a gas station. Where I went to work at 7 am every day in the summer.

When my husband and I wanted to have a kid, we waited until we both had good jobs with good leave policies and insurance.

When we wanted to go on vacation, we saved our money.

When I wanted to play roller derby, I spent money that I had saved. I worked for contracts, bonuses, I even donated plasma so that I could upgrade my wheels. And after a year, I had a job so that helped pay for it, too.

Fundraisers have been a part of life forever. Dramatic things happen to people and sometimes they need help. Where it used to be that you'd see an address that accompanied a story in the newspaper, you could mail a check. Or you'd hear about someone at church and try to find out what they needed. Or you would hear from a friend and help out that way.

The internet has made the world a smaller place. Now you can hear about people who need help all over the world.

The difference is, people seem to think that they can ask for help for no reason at all.

All the things I mentioned above... there are fundraisers for those things: pay for me to go to college, buy a car, have a kid, buy a house, go on vacation, bla bla y bla.

Let me give a disclaimer: if something tragic happened to you, please, fundraise. I am not talking to you. You know what I mean: the family whose house burnt down, the dad who had a heart attack while running one Sunday and left his disabled wife and 2 kids behind, the mom who was in the Army and didn't return from Afghanistan, the tornado that tore through the town and leveled everything but the YMCA... legitimate reasons for fundraisers.

I was super entertained by the guy who raised money to make potato salad. If you didn't hear about Zack Danger and his potato dreams, click here. He's pointing out the ridiculousness of crowdfunding for stupid reasons, and probably making $50k in the process.

The ones that really get under my skin are the derby fundraisers. Go ahead, click on this link, it might annoy you as much as it did me. If you search for roller derby on some of the personal fundraising sites, you'll see that people are asking money to buy their gear. The most basic stuff: skates, pads, helmet.

Listen to me, grasshopper: if you can't afford the gear, how will you afford the dues, the travel, the insurance, the injuries, the possible time off work, the uniform. Literally thousands of dollars a year in derby expenses.

this is what it's like to play derby

Also like this. You're never seeing it again.

If you need to crowdfund for knee pads, you probably can't afford derby right now.

Be responsible. If you want to play derby and as many of the pleas say, "nothing will stop (me)" you, then save your money.

You can still get ready to play derby. Start working out now- there are lots of things you can do to get in shape for derby. There are TONS of websites that will tell you.

Go to open skate. Wear the rink skates. When you get your own, you'll appreciate them so much more.

Go to bouts. Volunteer. Learn all about derby.

And save your money. You're the only one responsible for your derby dreams. Earn them.

I'm Judging You. (not you, personally, but that other person)

If You Let Your Teenage Daughter Sleep In On A School Day - at the New Yorker

I cannot handle this. I. CANNOT.

I get that it's supposed to be a joke about the children's book If You Give A Mouse A Cookie.
I get it.

I'm judging this twofold.

1. As a parent. Don't let your punk-ass daughter sleep in on a school day. If she does, she's sick, and she stays home, in bed, all day. That's it. Full stop. You take her to lunch? You get her a haircut? Fuck no. That's what the weekend is for. Mom, you are a fucking pushover. You are a pathetic excuse for a parent.

I get it- she had lacrosse til all hours and then stayed up doing her homework. Her boyfriend broke up with her and she cried all night. Her best friend bought the same prom dress in a different color and a size smaller and now they're not speaking. Not only am I a mom now, but I was a teenage girl once. A horrible, awful, unbearably dramatic teenage girl.

And you know what I learned? Shit happens. But unless you are sick, you get your ass out of bed and go to school. That's how it works. You get your sorry ass to school.


2. As a teacher. I would bet this mom calls her daughter on her phone while she knows the daughter is in class and then when the daughter gets in trouble, the mom makes excuses. Then she talks shit about the teacher so the kid has no respect for the teacher- if there was any to begin with.

Please, mom, teach your daughter that education is important. That responsibilities and obligations are important. That if she's tired, she should go to bed earlier. If stuff happens, you're tired for a day, and then you take a nap when you get home. That if you prioritize, you can work on your essay over the course of 3 days instead of working on it 7 hours in one night.

Mom, teach your daughter how to be a reliable, responsible, valuable member of society. That's your job. I'm going to help you do that, but I can't do it alone. You have to show her how important it is.

Gymnastics for the Snooty Set

Agent X is a pretty active kid. While I have been known to exercise, I am not the kind of parent who is 3 steps ahead of her child at all times. I am the kind of parent who has made up games that involve Agent X running around a lot, while I watch and laugh.

I signed him up for gymnastics at the local rec center in September. He loved it, and isn't half bad. Also, rec gymnastics are cheap- $58 for 14 weeks. Another mom I know hated the classes and yanked her kid out half way through. On the other hand, I signed my kid up for the second session in January.

Local parents with greater financial means tend to send their kids to a place I will call Fancy Flippers. FF is on the edge of town, very near the McMansions that these parents live in. FF costs $89 per month. PER MONTH.

Let's do a little economic instruction for those following along at home:
$58 divided by 14 classes = $4.14 per class
$89 divided by 4 classes = $22.25 per class

And, I've created a little compare and contrast visual for you:

So you can see, FF is cool, but not a sustainable program for Agent X. I MEAN, IT'S $89 FOR 4 CLASSES FOR THE LOVE OF SWEET BABY JESUS!

That $89 draws in a certain type of parent. 

A type that doesn't want their child learning gymnastics with the type of riff-raff that frequents the rec center. The type of parent who tells you certain schools are bad because, and I am quoting here, "There are lots of languages being spoken there." And we're not talking about profanity, kids. 

However, I happened to win TWO months of classes at a charity auction. For $30. Yes, for two whole months! I am sure that the owners of FF would lose their poop if they knew how much I paid, but I'll never tell.

Since I am not *that type of parent* I am fearlessly going into the wild to report back to you my interactions with said parents.

The first type? The Stage Dad.

Dad brings daughter to gymnastics. Dad is a sight to see- black (dyed?) curly hair slicked back neatly into ponytail. So neatly I want to ask how he does it, because my ponytail is never so sleek. Black hipster framed glasses. Black track suit. Last but definitely not to be missed, black Sketchers Shape Ups on his feet. I may actually snort a little upon noticing the shoes.

FF has a half-wall parents must stay behind during classes. Which is fine with me, I can watch but also knit, read, or play games on my phone.

Stage Dad takes this opportunity to pace back and forth on his shoes which may or may not firm ones butt, depending on which study you read. He does this for the first 15 minutes of class.

Then he starts leaning over the wall and giving the stink eye and pointing out instructions to his daughter. He's not talking at this point, but he's clearly communicating with her. She sometimes pays attention, and sometimes does not. She is either 3 or 4, after all.

After a few minutes of this, I have stopped playing games on my phone and start watching him. The stage is his.

Stage Dad starts loudly directing his Little Darling from behind the wall. The finger pointing and visual cues are now supplemented with a very loud voice. Little Darling again pays attention, and then does not.

He decides that his Little Darling is not paying close enough attention. He goes into the gymnastics area and starts giving instruction. There are 6 kids in this class. Two teachers. And now Stage Dad is part of the class. Walking around in the classroom, still very loudly instructing his daughter, but now standing with her the whole time!

Little Darling is on the trampoline, and Stage Dad is right there with her, "Do a tuck jump. Again. Again! That wasn't very high!"

I may be actually laughing out loud at this point. I mean, I feel really bad for Little Darling, but this may be the highlight of my day and I am not missing it! Two of the kids each have a nanny who brings them to gymnastics and at this point they have stopped talking to each other and are watching me watch Stage Dad. I don't care, I am having way too much fun. I would probably be pissed if I were paying full price for those classes, but since I don't really care and it's just an opportunity for Agent X to run around and possibly learn a skill in the process, I'm fine with it. For what it's worth, Agent X has developed a pretty nice forward roll.

Luckily, class ends, and Stage Dad corners the lead teacher and asks her what Little Darling can work on at home to improve her skills.

I am not sure if I will lose my eyeballs in my head from rolling them so much.

Stay tuned, because Agent X has 6 more of these classes.

Here I Am...

About this me and this blog:

I have strong opinions and I have the internet. I'm going to tell you what I like and don't like and why.

I live in a rural town in a state on the Eastern seaboard. My family: Sports Guy (husband), Agent N (oldest son, in 3rd grade as of 2012), Agent X (youngest son, entering Kindergarten in the fall) and myself, Brick, moved from the south, which we are not from originally.  I work at home, teaching high school online. It's a sweet gig. I also skate roller derby. I'm also somewhat crafty. Or I like to think so.

I have a good mom friend, Antsy (mom of 2 little girls). I have lots of derby friends, some that are just acquaintances. I have lots of friends I used to teach with Down South. My family lives Up North.