This Guy

Atheists unite! This is a science priest. A physics priest. If you continue to be disappointed by partners that don’t love you the way you need to be loved, this guy….listen to this speech.

New Evidence for Jesus


My Child LEFT Behind.

I’ve been researching hand dominance bc I and Leo’s previous home aide noticed that Leo seems left-hand dominant. I’m a leftie so it makes genetic sense and she’s a leftie, so was noticing some signs.

All these years in school, they were right-hand training him which can contribute to a HOST of cognitive difficulties, and my Leo has every single problem on this list of  forced-handedness problems.

Here’s a screen cap from THIS article on forcing lefties to write right:

Not to say the forcing CAUSED those problems, I don’t believe that, but it definitely makes sense that it could have enhanced his difficulties and hindered progress. So, this article gives simple tests that I did on both boys to determine sidedness of hand, foot, eye, and ear.

I didn’t do the handwriting part bc Leo has been trained for right hand, so obviously, that’s the hand he picks up the writing utensil in. Always. Must be that painting was the least employed activity in public school though, because it’s the only “writing” utensil that he naturally grabs with his left hand.

A LLAMA VENT: IT WAS/IS VERY frustrating that the school district here spent an entire year “teaching” him to write his first name, when Florida had already spent an entire year teaching  him to do it (with the right hand that he had been labeled with since early childhood, but still: I TOLD them he knew how to write his first name and at the end of the year the teacher exclaimed so proudly that, “HE CAN WRITE HIS FIRST NAME NOW!” Me “……????…..       …. ….” And then when allllll the physical, mental, and emotional abuse surfaced regarding that year in that room, and I agreed to give the district a second year in a different school, in a different room, he still only worked on his FIRST NAME. WITH THE WRONG HAND, hence, THREE CONSECUTIVE YEARS OF PUBLIC SCHOOL WERE SPENT ON THREE LETTERS: L, E, O. He now WILL NOT, WRITE OR MAKE ANYTHING other than the three words, L-E-O. This is due to the 3 year enabling but also because HE IS NOT RIGHT HANDED, and it is very difficult to write with the wrong hand, as we all know. I have actually had to abandon practicing handwriting for an enormous chunk of time, in order to try for a clean slate. In kindergarten he was at least trying to color and make shapes, but he wouldn’t even make a LINE after being allowed to ONLY do L-E-O for 3 consecutive years of neglectful, ignorant, abusive public schools. Poor Leo, not only insecure in speech, but mistreated with writing his entire life too. *wipes off the Llama spit and attempts to re-approach the topic at HAND.

Anyway, Leo is pretty much always a leftie with eating finger foods but it’s mixed with using utensils which I can now presume is due to the hand-over-hand training in schools all those years, by a dominant right-handed group of uncaring, ignor…. oh sorry, I said I was done spitting. 😶

He stirs counterclockwise too, which is another indicator of a natural leftie. And yesterday I caught him using hisl left hand for scissors on first instinct. I let him go, of course, but a 30 seconds in, when he saw me watching him, he switched the scissors to the right hand. I had to reassure him that he can use his left hand, and put those scissors back where they belonged: ON THE LEFT!

To be accurate with the other tests in the article, I moved him around the room and did multiple trials and wouldn’t you know, he is left-eye,  left-foot, and left-ear dominant as well.

The tests are fun and easy and take like 2 minutes. I suggest everyone do them on themselves and their kids, even if it’s not due to a major, crippling stumbling block , as in my sweetie’s case. It’s just interesting info and a fun science lesson. So Leo is fully left-body dominant, whereas Sonny is dominant in right except with his eyes.

SHOOT, SH*T, MORE LLAMA SPIT: And yes, I’m still bitter regarding the inclinations of the trusted professionals, to lead learning with bias and assumption as opposed to observation and an open-minded curiosity. I am also still blaming myself for trusting them blindly because our society tells us we must.

We parents are sent the very strong, very inaccurate message, that we “can’t do it alone.” That if we want our kids to have the BEST CHANCE at growth, development, and learning, we MUST allow teachers to teach them by using certain methods and curriculum.

But the truth is, every parent already has their own curriculum and methods inside of them and just because a corporation devised a big CURRICULUM and sold it to a school, doesn’t make that curriculum better than that which each parent was born with, and in my opinion, those corporate curriculums are HARMFUL.

And if you are the parent of a child with a medical label, you will be given the damaging directive that our kids need even MORE outside interference from a HOST of paid government and “non-profit” employees, made to take over all aspects of our child’s life for 8 hours of the day, and through the summer months as well. We are shamed into believing that our childrens’ growth will be stunted, lest  we give our children over to case workers, social workers, medical service coordinators, therapists, teachers, teacher’s aides, advocates, etc., etc., etc.

Funny, though, because I’ve realized through our traumas that a child’s growth, label or not, is not stunted if he stays home to be taught by his parents. Parents are just as capable of teaching everything the “professionals” claim to teach.

I would argue that it’s actually the classroom environments that cause a child to be stunted. Like a vegetable garden whose seedlings are placed too closely together so that the roots are crowded, thus bearing less and smaller fruit, if any at all; such is the growth of the child placed in a school. A school, even in classrooms with higher ratios of adults to children, is not equipped with the elements needed for growth, the way that a home is. Academic growth, emotional growth, physical growth (think school food, lack of sunlight and fresh air), moral growth, all is stunted.

The soil of the school may look rich, with its murals on the walls and brightly organized, adorable classrooms and college degrees, but the soil is shallow and lacking in one vital nutrient: love. Not to say school adults CAN’T love school children, but they DON’T love them as the parents do. Their love, no matter how unbiased they think it is, is STILL based on one or more conditions, whereas parental love is unconditional. I have experienced this on both sides of the spectrum, as a certified teacher AND a mom, and can clear up any confusion regarding the differences between the love of a teacher, and the love of a mother, in the comments below, if you have any questions or protests about that.

A very common form of shaming employed by society, is that a parent is too soft, that essentially, a parent loves a child TOO MUCH to provide things like discipline and consistency. As if too much love is a BAD THING. But the truth is, the unconditional love in the home environment doesn’t drown your child the way overwatering a houseplant does. If a parent’s love is the water, and the child a plant, than the children that get sent away for 6-8 hours a day, 5 days a week, become  desert plants, that, storing up home love during the few hours a day they get it, tend to grow slowly, cautiously, and often have thorns to protect themselves. Some grow to be extremely hardy, so are able to survive the drought of their school shifts. Others can’t survive through so many hours of this dry, cracked, hard environment, and end up hanging themselves or shooting themselves and their desert predators.

Some public school children don’t grow thorns because their parents take every hour they have and LOVE their children. These children, blessed with parents that care to be examples of love, may live in the school desert for a full work week, but rather than grow protective thorns, they, like the aloe plant, produce amazing medicine that will help their peers.

The public schools aren’t going anywhere and one of my most beloved friends (L&T) pointed out that he sends his kids to public school, yes, but he trains them at home to be good, honorable humans. And thank GOD because it is these children of these parents that are the knights of the schools, protecting the innocent from the extreme bullying and other abuses that are rife in our school system. 

Well, that started as Llama spit and ended on a nice gentle sheep note, so I should end there. But, of course I won’t.

This is not really SPIT, it’s just my biased opinion: If public schools are deserts, then homeschool is like the rainforest. A homeschooled child is like the plants of the rainforest; showered, and canopied in a parent’s love. Without the cautiousness of the desert plants, they instead grow quicker and branch out in many different areas. They are less inclined to thorns, and are very medicinal in that the children are able to teach the parent as much or more as the parent teaches them, and in doing so, the parent is able to teach even more, even better. And if you add God into the center of your teaching, FAHHHHHGETTTTTTTTTTTTT ABAAAAAAHTTTTTTT IT!!!!!!! Your children will learn to bravely accept the indifference of this world and learn how to spread love all over society no matter the harsh, muddled, hate-filled, apathetic climates.

THE SHEEP IN ME: Fortunately, unlike plants, people can survive climate changes because we homeschool but my boys and I are both cacti because I spent over 40 years in the desert, so moving into a rainforest environment has been an adjustment for us all.

LEST THE LLAMA OVERPOWERED THE SHEEP: please don’t get offended thinking I called your kids cacti. It was a simplified analogy, and for the record, I LOVE cacti and ALL others that live with them in the category of succulent plants. They’re my favorite plants, actually. And not just because you can forget to water them and they will survive, but because they are exotic, unique, surprising, interesting, different, beautiful, and true warriors in their miraculous fasting abilities.

One of my FAVORITE varieties.

Stunning. Truly.

That’s it. I’m going to start up a new collection of succulents. I had the most beautiful array above my sink a few years back. They made me so happy.

I lived in the desert so long, I know NOTHING about rainforest plants except the amount of attention they seem to need is intimidating and scary (kind of like most people’s reasons for avoiding homeschool, including my own desert-led homeschooling assumptions). BUT WOW. Check out these rainforest plants.

Ok, imagining keeping this alive, is the same way most parents feel about honeschool: “no way, I could never do it.”

Anddddddd this is why ppl think homeschoolers are weird. 😐

This society that tells parents what their kids need, is an invasive desert because lots and lots of families who wish to homeschool, literally do not have the option. If you are one such parent, don’t succumb to guilt or feel that all hope is lost, because even though you have to send your child off to the desert, you are enlightened, so during home hours your love can be the water and the extra dose of light that can counteract the herd mentality they are stampeded with at school. Lots of beautiful, moral, sensitive, intelligent, loving human beings went to public school. I mean, I did and look how FABULOUS I turned out!! 😉😉

In just 100 years, we have destroyed half the world’s rainforest. Public schools are like human deforestation. Today’s motto: make like a rainforest tree and canopy your children from institutionalization.

Andddd I’ll chalk up that HUGE digression from left handedness, to the whole free association thing I’ve got going on over here.

In conclusion, I am going to continue attempting to heed my own advice by not allowing the guilt of keeping them too long in the desert, to eat me up.

Let’s end with a giant gob of word pun:

In the right corner of mind, I knew something seemed left out but being conditioned to think they were right, I left you there.

Such underhandedness left me with a right amount of sight, to see I had left you in a desert

Where everybody knows your name BECAUSE YOU SPENT 3 YEARS SPELLING IT FOR THEM IN THE WRONG HAND, which should have Left them with the impression that something wasn’t right.

the tests in the article are kid and indoor friendly, but in doing this on myself, I am  right with my ears, eyes, AND feet. Only thing left is my hand, which is….so far to the left that my right hand even FEELS clumsy even when it’s doing absolutely nothing.

Here’s the link to the test again so you don’t need to scroll up.

 The Pumpkin Exorcism

My therapist assured me that the over-analyzing/rapid thinking/connecting thing has a name, and it’s called free association and isn’t a bad thing, so there we have it: I’m a bit less crazy than I thought I was. 😉 and I still say it’s part of my inner genius, so…

Anyway, in continuing the ever important quest toward that ability to sum up, I’ll just repeat my free associations, so, welcome to the inner workings of my mind MUAH HA HA HAAAA!

INTRO: Because I couldn’t find my pumpkin carving equipment, I was left with a steak knife and a spoon. Leo is apparently over the pumpkin thing, so I told Sonny to pick a face.  A simple one. I meant to do this cool parable story about our sins being the pumpkin guts and the light being Jesus, but Sonny chose a weird face which I didn’t really feel would go with the story, and I hadn’t prepped ahead so I abandoned the idea.

So I carved this ugly face which reminded me of an evil character in a series we just finished, and Sonny got super into connecting her, Esmé Squalor,  with the pumpkin.  

And digging out the guts reminded me of the pics of the vomiting pumpkins,

Which reminded me of the evil I experienced last month and was going to blog about but change the names to protect the guilty, but still can’t decide if it would be slanderous or not,

Which reminded me how dark their energy was, 

Which reminded me of demons, 

Which reminded me of of this exorcism documentary I watched where the top exorcist showed all sorts of crazy objects that ppl had vomited out during an excorsism, but that didn’t show up in the x-rays they performed directly BEFORE the exorcism: chains, keys, nails, etc., etc…

Which reminded me of the vomiting pumpkins but also of the super thick deadbolt I had had to chop with a bolt cutter last month during that evil encounter, in order to get my belongings from a garage in which they were being held hostage (with police permission, don’t get excited, I’m not as cool as I think I am),

Which reminded me how, without the intercession of Saint Michael, I never would have been able to cut that bolt, 

Not sure if you can tell in the picture, but it was seriously thick 😐

Which reminded me of the devil because St. Michael is the badass angel that put the giant smackdown on Lucifer, thus thrusting him into hell,

And Lucifer reminded me of Halloween bc it’s when we mock him,

Which inspired me to make up a different story about the book character being evil and how sometimes the demons go into evil people bc they are ripe for penetrating, so in the middle of my explanation of demons and the priests that exercise them, Sonny informed me that he was watching the documentary while I thought he was sleeping, which cut out sooo much of the explaining, which was fabulous.

I had been thinking of saving the bolt because for real, I have no upper body strength, and it was a miracle that I did that, and I was going to get a shadow box and put it in there with the St Michael prayer so I could, “Never forget,” but when I got to the new place, I must have tossed it bc I have this serious problem (which isn’t an actual problem, it’s just a thing) with keeping things that are from tainted situations, so I grabbed a pair of toenail clippers, threw them into the pumpkin guts andddd, 

Purely, as luck (I mean divine providence) would have it, this year Sonny decided to dress up like our priest, which I remembered while snapping THESE pics,

 so I was all, “shut up, this is perfect, this is definitely divine inspiration,” so voila, we dressed Sonny up and posed him out and he was pretty thrilled about the whole situation.

Shout out to Emily Crew (Emily, I just now noticed how badass your last name is!) and her blog hubby the Social Assasin, for these gorgeous rose scented rosary beads from Rome. ❤❤

 Perfect way to end out a year long book series and prep for Halloween and have a spooky but real, important lesson all at the same time. 

And my Sonny Bunny wasn’t skerrred, because in this house, we would listen to that old Stryper song, “to hell with the devil,” if we wanted to, because we are NOT afraid of that jealous, weird,  jerk-faced demon. Only good ol’ healthy fear of the Lord up in here, which reminds me of one of my sisters who, in a different context said, “some call it fear, I call it respect!” Which is exactly what “fear of the Lord is:” a beautiful, loving respect for God. 

As they say in Espaniol, Enserio, does he look scared? Psht.. The devil couldn’t penetrate the amount of optimistic, gentle, holy humbleness in even one little finger of this Sonny bunny, aka Santino, aka little saint. ❤❤❤

And that’s what we call divine intervention of the free associating, multi-tasking kind!! 

You can do this with your kiddos too. Really, you could do both stories: one about light, and one about dark. Or vomit. Or dark vomit! 

Here is the link to the light story that started all this free association. A friend shared it with me and I’m totally DOING  it next year. Its called the pumpkin gospel.

Happy devil mocking season, 

The Petries

Ps. I took this great opportunity to make our own Catholic christiam meme, of another’s Catholic Christian meme, that made me laugh: 

Me, Talking to Myself

Man. I can’t even give something away on these buy sell trade sites bc my posts get buried under six hundred people trying to nickel and dime everybody for books and toys and DVDs. 

Mm. kind of like what I did when I was trying to sell books DVDs and cheesy wall decor for a couple dollars?

Yeah but I am REALLY desperate for money right now.

Maybe they are too.

Yeah,Tru dat. And I did end up selling some stuff but the cheapest ones and the free things didn’t go. I just wish there was like a free only page.

Maybe there is.

Word. I didn’t check. But if I don’t know about it yet then it can’t possibly be as widespread as the buying pages and I mean like, I’m just so tired of money.

Bitch, that’s because you don’t have any.

Well, yeah, that’s true. And the few things I had that were worth a 20 spot or so, I DID end up selling, and it DID feel really good. But DAMN. I’m still annoyed that these buying sites seem to be clogged with shit that ppl should be giving away.

Like the pumpkin painting you put up for 5 dollars? Don’t hate just bc you got nothing else to sell that’s worth anything.

I know but…. and and I guess SOMEBODY’S gotta make money, right? Just because I’m not good at it. It’s just not one of my gifts, that’s all. But I mean everybody can’t just give everything away all the time because then THEY wouldn’t have anything.

Yes they would. If everyone gave everything away instead of selling it, they would be bartering. You know, like trading instead of buying and selling?

Yeah but that only works if everyone agrees to do it. Otherwise the sellers would take all the free stuff and then sell it.

But if no one bought it, and just traded with  people that traded, then the buyers would just become burdened with a hoard. 

Then I guess there justvarent any give awayers to counteract the sellers so its like if you can’t beat em join em. But if everyone just traded stuff wouldn’t that be communism or something?

I don’t think so. You know I can’t keep all those definitions straight. Stop tryna label shit. You don’t even like labels.

I know. Bad habits. Sorry. But at the least, a system that ran on bartering would be a utopia and even Moore couldn’t come up with a perfect society.

That’s bc the last perfect society was Eden. But then the Apple.

Right, right. Well, globally, I ain’t got shit to say but locally, ugh. What’s the point of a buy sell page if it gets so clogged it’s impossible to get noticed?

I don’t know, Margarita. What’s the point of putting sugar in vegetable broth? Or Flouride in water?

Sigh. Yeah…. I don’t know. Too much thinking, not enough packing. Just wish I didn’t have to pay to bring furniture to the dump.

Oh. So you weren’t trying to give your stuff away to be charitable. You were just trying to save yourself money at the dump.

NOT REALLY, SMART ASS. It’s the energy and time I was trying to keep. Not the money. If I had money I’d pay someone to do it for me. I get pissy too, ya know.  I’m starting to feel like I’m married to poverty and marriage ain’t easy. It’s way more about the hard parts like moving and lifting and all the multi-tasking. You know? The hard shit. Not the money.

But who said poverty was just about money? It’s ABOUT the hard parts.

Bitch, I’m talking about worldly poverty not spiritual poverty.

But aren’t they related?

I don’t know. I’m not trying to get all philosophical.

You aren’t?

Wow. You are SO annoying. I’m just tired and moving sucks and I gotta go through more shit I don’t even know why who or where I got it from…mostly papers… and I am so tired of paper. I’m pretty grossed out that I have pounds and pounds of it to get rid of and I’m annoyed that I have to keep way more of it than I want to bcuz I don’t want any of it, and then I don’t even want to change my address at the post office because that means more and more paper. And if I had saved all the bullshit paper I’ve ever gotten in my 26 years of “adulthood,” I could have built a paper maché CASTLE by now.

Is paper maché waterproof? 


Green Eggs & Damn

I don’t mind if you mistake my kindness for weakness. That’s just a weak mind. Ignorance. And ignorance all day all week, don’t bother me, I’m fine. 

It’s when they know my weakness and play it, then I take stock and weigh it. Bc if I show you that side and you use it, it’s not ignorance. 

It’s intentional. And an insult on my intelligence.

They say to show your weakness is weak and makes you weaker.

But I say let’s experiment. Let’s put it in a beaker and mix it up and light it some and see if you a seeker, tagging on my weakness for some perverse game. I bet I come out stronger while you remain the same. 

Bc I just learned a lesson about what you really are, and you stuck where you ended and quicksand don’t get you far.

I’m not ashamed of faults, mine or someone elses. Im not a wolf, I don’t use faults to blow down others houses. 

So if I have befriended you, and you use my weakest fault lines, know I take offense at that and then I draw a line. And I’m trying to be holy and keep a low sin score, but I’m not all the way holy yet and I do not mind a war. 

That’s wrong, I do. I mind it,  but will battle if I must and if I let you know my fault lines, you also know my trust and that when it is mistreated, I get what we’ll call MAD. I’m trying to control that though, I’m trying to ignore the foe, I’m trying to take pity tho, I’m not all the way there yet.

If you can relate to people who use your weakness for their gain, who think they have some power because they think they know your mind frame, let me frame it for you

Let me say it like this: it cost you heartfelt words and a little comrade time and it bought you the wisdom to know the dusty from the shine. And dusty mother fuckers are not worth your time. So now you know they’re powerless and they don’t get yours or mine. 

If, on the other hand, you think this is about you, that’s because

It is. 

Yes. You.

PLEASE DON’T WALL UP. you won’t grow if you don’t trust TRUST.

I have no idea who this dude is, but WHAT HE SAID.

EXACTLY. Weak and stuck.


Cheerio, Motha F*cka

Let me trace the general outline 

of General Mills and how they define

The GMO’s in those little holes they

Got us callin’ Cheerios. 

You think I’m stupid don’t you, with your thought out propaganda, you think if you write

“Gluten free” and “simply made” and “heart healthy, ” 

That I won’t prop a gander at the mystery

Called the ingredient list. 

Almost got me, I almost missed

How you state your shits not modified, but what’s trace elements? OH, you lied?!

Who’s urprised?

So, you didn’t make my cheerios with genetically modified ingredients but they may have been contaminated while being made or transported?!?!

Ok, politician, think my minds a demolition site for your self righteous folk lore? Got me confused with a simple whore. 


I don’t need your shit talk over cereal. Your CORRUPTION is so serial. 

General Mills Generally Modifies definitions. GM Genetically Modifies its positions. Can’t certify it NON-GMO cuz GM’ s shit is GMOhhhh…

Plays on words to hide the moral curves it spins past, 

To hide that money’s

 first, nutrition’s last.

But trace your elemental bullshit elsewhere tho, 

Manufacture word play on the next dumb ho,

Cuz I don’t need no cheerio

To poison my little family, yo.

A last goodbye, a CHEERIO, to the played out traced up cereal.

Christian bashing IS HATE SPEECH

Did you ever notice that Christian bashing has become socially acceptable? Bashing is hating is bullying, no matter what group you are targeting. 

And hating/bashing/bullying stems from anger and anger stems from fear. Fear: afraid. Why are you SO AFRAID of my God if you don’t believe in him?!? 

#noexcuse #stayangry #staybitter #stayignorant #stayrude 

I’m not going to argue/debate with people who believe nothing because their passion is based on nothing and argueing about nothing changes nothing.

Previous Older Entries

Laura Grace Weldon

Free Range Learning, Creative Living, Gentle Encouragement, Big Questions, Poetry, Occasional Drollery

Captain Awkward

Advice. Staircase Wit. Faux Pas. Movies.

Working the Beads

Fumbling towards holiness, one rosary at a time

A Beautiful, Camouflaged, Mess of A Life

One Army Wife's Blog about her Catholic Faith & Parenting

family, culture and religious blog

The Lippy Hippie

Single Mama, Catholic Llama (trying to be a sheep but can't stop spitting)

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