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How young is too young? Can I get a confession in here…

Hey bloggity blog world, I have a question to ask you?!

At what age is too young to engage in sexual activity? What makes it too young? What makes it wrong, considering all involved are similar ages and consensual for both parties?

We all know the consequences from sex. What about adding a consequence into the mix. Do you still feel the same way?

Sex makes babies and giving a women has to decided what’s best for her and her body.. what happens when sex makes a baby? When is it too young? Life allows it to happen, it does not make it right, but what’s your thoughts on the porous of a young woman conceiving a child so young? Women typically can have a baby long before actually becoming a woman. In fact it seems that the female body is evolving to began the process of being able to conceive a child much sooner than in the past.

We (humans) live longer now you’d think since we no longer have to have a baby while still a baby our self. Life seems to mirrored things in the other direction.

I just wonder why? Why would life let become equipt to make a baby when we are so young still, when today we live much longer than ever before. Out bodies still not even fully grown and having the urges signaling the brain to make a child who is obviously larger in comparison to a woman who is older and better made to handle the obvious?

 

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Promise Ring

Let’s take a trip down memory lane.

Several years ago… 9½ years ago to be exact.

I was walking around with a huge baby bump. My first baby girl was close to being born. [We’ll just call her, Lisa.]

My baby girl was conceived with my [former] love of my life. I say former because things did not go that way. . . He was a douche (in my eyes anyway) and hurt me when – he slept with another woman, breaking my heart into a million pieces.

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The Misunderstood Child

My oldest child has autism, like me.
This sums up our troubles. . .

I am the child that looks healthy and fine.
I was born with ten fingers and toes.
But something is different, somewhere in my mind,
And what it is, nobody knows.

I am the child that struggles in school,
Though they say that I’m perfectly smart.
They tell me I’m lazy — can learn if I try —
But I don’t seem to know where to start.

I am the child that won’t wear the clothes
Which hurt me or bother my feet.
I dread sudden noises, can’t handle most smells,
And tastes — there are few foods I’ll eat.

I am the child that can’t catch the ball
And runs with an awkward gait.
I am the one chosen last on the team
And I cringe as I stand there and wait.

I am the child with whom no one will play
The one that gets bullied and teased
I try to fit in and I want to be liked,
But nothing I do seems to please.

I am the child that tantrums and freaks
Over things that seem petty and trite.
You’ll never know how I panic inside,
When I’m lost in my anger and fright.

I am the child that fidgets and squirms
Though I’m told to sit still and be good.
Do you think that I choose to be out of control?
Don’t you know that I would if I could?

I am the child with the broken heart
Though I act like I don’t really care.
Perhaps there’s a reason I’m made this way —
Some message I’m sent to share.

For I am the child that needs to be loved
And accepted and valued too.
I am the child that is misunderstood.
I am different – but look just like you.

~ Kathy Winters

Blogging all wrong

Once upon a time… venting online was an outlet for me. I never reveled who I was or left clues that could lead you to me. I spilled it all. I told the keyboard everything.

I was surprised to have over 1,000 regular followers leaving me feedback, rooting for me, giving me unwanted advice. Those strangers knew everything about me. More than anyone I faced day-to-day.

I never intended to have readers. I assumed I was boring and nothing entertaining could come about my day. I was so wrong! Lots of people found my drama filled day-to-day life and ranting’s helpful and entertaining.

I’m leaning more towards train wreak – you just can help but watch! But that’s how I roll. (Really though, train-wreak!) Shit was better than any soap opera you could watch on TV. Best of all, it was the flat out truth. My life fucking sucked fucking smelly donkey cock!

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