Barbershop Theology: Identify Theft

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"Lady Barber," ~ WW II era, photo curteousy of Carol Pearse

https://onlineconferenceformusictherapy.com/2025/02/22/j21sgt7vdq Who are you? The class clown? The jock, the drama girl, the tall guy, the dud with the funny laugh?  He’s the cowboy, she’s the artist. It’s interesting how we identify ourselves and others.

Tramadol Online With Mastercard Sometimes our profession becomes our identity.  I am a doctor, a teacher, a plumber, a mechanic, or a zoo keeper.  That’s a good one — Zoo Keeper.

https://alldayelectrician.com/e2yoc0cib4 For a part of her life my mom was “the lady barber.” In fact, I was with her just the other day and she referred to herself as a retired barber. I thought it was odd at the time, I mean; she does about a hundred other things really, really well. She is a singer, an artist, a collector, a genealogist, a Sunday school teacher, a mom and she is Grandma.

https://getdarker.com/editorial/articles/63bc2hk Back to the “lady barber” moniker – Dad’s shop had two barber chairs and he was particularly busy on Tuesday afternoons and all day Saturday. Mom got her barbers license and went to work on those days. If you called her a hair dresser you would be corrected immediately. She far prefers the title barber. Believe me, she would have no problem setting that record straight. Continue reading Barbershop Theology: Identify Theft

Sherree Chamberlain’s Quarter-Life Crisis: A Journey Down Her Musical Path

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Sheree Chamberlain singing at the OKC Farmers Public Market, 4-07-11

https://lpgventures.com/aj4zmx866am When you sit in an espresso bar like Coffee Slingers, the spot you choose determines how you can then divide your attention.  Sit by the window? Watch life pass by on the sidewalk or streets outside, or perhaps carry your gaze across the shop interior and watch the scene inside.

https://penielenv.com/oattysgjl Sit behind a laptop? You’ve just planned to fade the espresso bar and exterior buzz, and crank up your “inner brain buzz” for a bit.

Tramadol Cheap Uk Sit across from Sherree Chamberlain?  Be prepared to take the metaphorical hand she reaches out to you, walk by her side, and hear what she’s been up to for the last nine years.  At least this process was my own experience a few weeks ago when I met with her.  Armed with our drinks (she had tea, I drank an iced latte) and carrot muffins, we settled in for some catching up.  The last I had seen of Sherree in person was while I was working with her as her secondary schools Drama Coach during our production of “Oklahoma!”  I learned at least two things that year:  1) Never test the fullest load shotgun blanks by firing them inside a university auditorium for the first time; and, 2) Sherree Jane Chamberlain could sing. Continue reading Sherree Chamberlain’s Quarter-Life Crisis: A Journey Down Her Musical Path

Oh Yes I DID Just Block That Shot!

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OKC Thunder Fans got to see this KD face several times tonight. After an excellent offensive possession, after he blocked a shot, after his three-pointer...I mean, after several of them. Thunder won, and they move on to the next round. What a night! For all OKC official photos (including this one), please click this photo and you will be taken to the official OKC Thunder site!

James Taylor and the Civic Center Music Hall: A Review

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https://www.marineetstamp.com/x26xczoiu7 Once in a while I get the opportunity to see a show where I can sit back, relax and simply enjoy the quality of the musicians in front of me.  Last night at the Civic Center Music Hall was such a night.  The star of the show, James Taylor, assembled a band of tremendous musicians, all stand alone artists in their own right.

http://www.mscnantes.org/ey4onhwf On drums was Chad Wackerman who, oddly enough, was the drummer for Frank Zappa at the first concert I saw at the Civic Center in 1984.  It is probable that he does not recall the venue as it has changed considerably since then.  But the incredible acoustics have not changed.  Chad was just a kid when he was playing for Frank but appears to have aged very little in the last 27 years.  Combined with percussionist Luis Conte the rhythmic interplay of last night was extraordinary.

https://guelph-real-estate.ca/czx54jnq7k Often times when watching artists perform their songs, whether live or on television, the harmonies are not quite on.  Not last night.  JT had four backing vocalists and the harmonies were absolutely glorious.  Not just pitch-perfect, but very nicely blended with only James voice standing out.  I wish I could tell you their names.

Order Tramadol Canada James played the songs you would want him to play and appeared comfortable between songs, telling stories and giving the history of several.  He told the same joke before playing Up On The Roof as in the youtube link I attached to my post of April 26.  Still, his interplay with the crowd was endearing.  After a short intermission he signed autographs for anyone who could manage to make it up to the stage.  The concert started at 8-ish and lasted until about 10:20 with a 20-minute intermission.

https://www.mbtn.net/?p=1cowh1nyocn The first half of the show before intermission was musically tight and very impressive for live.  After intermission the band seemed a little more loose, moved around the stage and seemed intentional on having a bit more fun.  Yet still tight and impressive. As live shows keep drawing fans in, traditional TV events are seeing a shift. abcdane.net breaks down the Emmy Awards’ record low ratings and what that says about how entertainment is changing.

https://dcinematools.com/y0esloca For me, the highlight of the night happened just before the band left for an encore.  They started to leave but James called the vocalists back.  He said, “I’ve always wanted to play this song in Oklahoma” and began to play Rogers & Hammersteins “O What A Beautiful Morning”, a song my co-workers and family suffer with me singing just about every time we go outside.  There was no suffering last night; five vocalists and one acoustic guitar played in typical James Taylor phrasing.  Really very nice.

The 2011 Imaginary Family Project – Week 17

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https://onlineconferenceformusictherapy.com/2025/02/22/dhc33wyl https://guelph-real-estate.ca/xullfvmc0 #17 of 52 : MARY, SHELL, CINDY & FRANCES FOSTER (Frank Foster not pictured)
Imaginary Family Project Week 17

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My mama disappeared that summer. Funny thing about memory, sometimes I don’t know the difference between my own true recollection and things I’ve been told. Maybe that’s due partly to hearing bits and pieces of this story over and over again my whole life, from the time that photo was taken to this day. And now look at me. Sitting here telling the same story all over again. Continue reading The 2011 Imaginary Family Project – Week 17

My Papa, a Knife, and Forgiveness

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source The following is the second guest post from David Roberts, who is one of the best high school English Teachers in the land by day and a defender of all things awesomely manly by night. He also happens to be my brother-in-law.

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https://purestpotential.com/3aq9lnjp8 A little over a week ago, I posted a piece in defense of the pocket knife. Composing that post prompted me to think about a story involving my grandfather–my mom’s dad, whom I call “Papa”, pronounced “Paw-Paw”–a gift from him to me, and something he taught me about forgiveness.

Tramadol To Buy Cheap My grandpa has almost always carried a pocket knife. As a child, I mostly saw him clean his fingernails with it, though occasionally I’d see him cut some rope or skin a raccoon with it. As a child, I also wanted to do exactly whatever my Papa was doing. So if he carried a pocket knife, I wanted to carry a pocket knife.

follow link About 10 years old when I expressed this desire, I was just a bit young to get my own Buck or Case. However, my grandpa came up with a solution. He somehow came in the possession of a little one-blade pen knife probably no longer than your pinky. He gave it to me during a weekend visit to his house, and I immediately went to the front yard to start throwing it, blade out, into the dirt.

Order Tramadol Overnight Cod I threw it a few times near my feet, each throw ending with a satisfying little thump as the knife went blade-deep (about two inches) into the black, soft dirt of the front yard. But after a throw no more than two or three minutes into my session, I couldn’t find the knife. It was brightly colored–yellow or green, I can’t remember now–but I somehow couldn’t locate it among the grass in a two-feet radius around my feet. To this day, I still don’t know if I threw it too hard and buried it, or if it got lost in some standing water close by. Either way, I’d managed to lose this present from my Papa, and my childhood self already felt guilty about it.

https://geolatinas.org/rc6m1palp After futilely looking for several minutes, I went back inside, hoping my grandpa wouldn’t mention the knife. He didn’t, not that day. But over my next several visits, he mentioned it a couple times, always asking me how I liked carrying it and what I’d been doing with it. I’m getting a little choked up even now thinking about how proud he was to have given me that token of his affection, his love. Still, every time he asked about it, I felt another longer, sharper knife of guilt go a bit deeper into my conscience.

Eventually, maybe a month or two later, I confessed to my mother what had happened. And I admitted I couldn’t bring myself to tell Papa what had happened, and worse yet that I’d lied to him about it–several times–since then. She suggested a solution: I should write him a letter. Knowing I had to assuage my conscience, I agreed. I composed it, she put a stamp on it, the postman delivered it.

**********

Now here’s the best part. My grandfather never again mentioned the knife, nor did he ever mention the letter. I think he knew my heart was too tender.

I also think he knew what forgiveness really is. Of course, he would say there was nothing to forgive, that I’d merely lost something and been ashamed to admit it, but I think otherwise. When a man forgives, it’s got to be absolute. Immediate. Total.

Like Michael, my grandpa taught me a lot about manhood. This was just one of many lessons and examples, one I’m so glad to share.

**********

I supposed I’ve fibbed a bit here, too. My grandfather did mention the knife and the letter, but only many years later, and out of a sense of sentimentality. He’d kept that letter for years, and showed it to my teenage self on another weekend visit. He smiled as he pulled it out and asked me to read it. We both laughed.

Then he reached in his pocket and pulled out another gift for me. This one a little bigger, with three blades and a bone handle. A pocket knife.

Music from the Man Cave – James Taylor

My beautiful wife is taking me to see James Taylor at the Civic Center Music Hall tonight.  I have to say, for a heavy metal guy I’m pretty excited.

James Taylor recorded some of the great songs of the 70’s and 80’s.  And I can add another great musician to the list of great musicians I’ve seen at the Civic Center; not an extensive list, Frank Zappa and Jethro Tull, but what terrific shows.  And the renovation of the Civic Center a few years back has truly made it, once again, the crown jewel of central Oklahoma music venues.

So get your “Handyman” chores done, grab the one you tell “You’ve Got a Friend”, don’t go to “Mexico” but jump on your “Steamroller” and meet us downtown tonight with “Your Smiling Face”!  And click on the link below to watch James doing his rendition of another superb Carole King song. (click photo to see video)

The Righteous Nest

With the experience of Easter 2011 fresh in my mind, I decided it was fitting to share a story about my daughter’s ability to inspire those around her with her insight into God’s word.  I originally documented this story back in 2009, so she would have been 4 years old.  Enjoy!
Bailey has always had big thoughts and a big attitude.  These attributes serve her well in many situations, and contribute to her downfall in an equal number of others.  On the positive side, her big thoughts also apply to things of a spiritual nature.  From an early age, she was always asking questions, and regularly offered simple yet poignant interpretations of favorite Bible stories.  In fact, we loved to engage her in deep conversation about any and all things as, if nothing else, her theories provided a new perspective on “old” ideas.
Out of the blue one day, she came to her grandmother (my MIL Jeanne) and asked, “What is a righteous nest?” While questions were not uncommon, even ones that required a good deal of head scratching before a response could be summoned, this particular question seemed quite odd.

“What do you mean, a righteous nest? Where did you hear it?”

Bailey, as she was known to do, sighed with exasperation.

“It’s in that song. The one where God has a righteous nest.” Continue reading The Righteous Nest

My Little Victory Garden, Entry 10: Teaoli, Delivery Day and “Garden Improvement”

Sometimes I go back and re-read my posts then really cringe.  Take last week’s “Victory Garden” entry, for example.  Here are all the Blog Boo-Boos I found: a) I talked about Teaoli and didn’t even provide you with photos or information.  b) I wrote some sort of introductory statement like, “And now…here are the finished quiches, feast your eyes!” and followed that up with a photo of my broccoli. Wha?? And, 3) I talked about Teaoli and didn’t even provide you with photos or information.  The Teaoli little faux pas is worth two bullet points.

Nestled in the northwest shopping corner of 15th & Bryant in Edmond awaits a very special place for you to explore.  The owners would love you to come in and taste olive oils, infused olive oils, balsamic vinegars, blended balsamic vinegars, and teas…and teas and teas. Every time I go shopping for olive oil, I always want to taste it.  And now I finally can.  I’ve spent between $7.00 and about $30.00 for approximately 14-18 oz of olive oil.  Their 14 oz bottles are $14.50, a mid-range price-point for oils by and large from California.  I can recommend my first purchase: Arbequina Extra Virgin Olive Oil.  The description reads, “Fresh and lively with a mild to medium intensity with notes of green apple peel and herbs.” I just uncorked it again to take another whiff and see if I agree with their narrative.  (*inhale….okay, another inhale*) Yes. Continue reading My Little Victory Garden, Entry 10: Teaoli, Delivery Day and “Garden Improvement”

Simple Sabbath: All Things New


Several years ago I lived through a nightmare. A very close friend lost his thirteen year old son. He was a good kid, a little bit goofy, but a handsome young man who sparkled with innocence and energy.  The doctors did not save him; there was no option for an experimental drug or miracle treatment. In a terrible accident, this teenager died — a healthy boy who awakened that morning with his whole life ahead of him; a child lying in a funeral home that night.

It was horrible.

My friend and I sat on the back porch late into the evening.  I could feel the emptiness, the darkness of Dad’s soul. I’ve never felt more helpless; it was so final, and it felt so unfair, unnatural and wrong. I spoke at the funeral. I was angry. I was angry with the boy, I was angry with me . . . and I was angry toward God. Death was not welcomed, it was wretched. By faith I summoned words to convey a better life to come and how we would all see our young friend someday in heaven. The whole time I never once doubted that God is good, and that we can trust Him. But, I can still remember the anger. Continue reading Simple Sabbath: All Things New

Fiscally Fit Bootcamp Whips Your Wallet Into Shape

I guess that you could say that Billy Joel and I have a little something in common. No, I’ve never married a supermodel even though my husband Justin is pretty hunky. All I can play on the piano is “I dropped my dolly in the dirt” so there’s no similarity there. But, just as the chorus in Billy’s hit song “I Go to Extremes” says, apparently Billy and I both go to extremes and neither of us knows why.

In the summer of 2009, I had an 8 month old baby boy and 17 pounds of baby weight that didn’t leave my body when the baby did. Instead of slowly starting a workout regimen to walk off the pounds or enrolling in a nice, leisurely yoga class a few times per week, I got an extreme idea. I guess it was the Piano Man part of my personality breaking through.

I had been driving around town and kept seeing these little signs stuck in the grass called Operation Bootcamp. I went to the website and watched all of the video testimonials. Operation Bootcamp is a 30 day outdoor workout routine held locally in parks. Did I mention that I signed up for the June/July session and that it is outdoors?  Did I also mention that it involves running (which I hate), push ups face down in the grass, sit ups (which I could not even do at the time), bear crawls, and some monstrosity called a “mountain climber”? Continue reading Fiscally Fit Bootcamp Whips Your Wallet Into Shape

The 2011 Imaginary Family Project – Week 16

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With all my moving across this wide open mid-western country for near sixty years one would think I’d have organized something about my life.  Every time I unload a moving truck into bedrooms and kitchens I am amazed at the boxes I’ve not opened since my last move. In the unused study the boxes rise against the wall. I’m not running from anything because I carry it with me, sealed in plastic cases and shoe boxes.

My last move five months ago landed me as a library assistant in a small town in Oklahoma bordered by miles of ranch land. All the major county roads are lined with fence posts and barbed wire, and the black cows are scattered alongside a creek snaking through a field almost barren of trees.  There’s something peaceful about gazing across flat land at a lone tree and a cloudless blue sky stretched like a blanket above my head.  And as I gaze for too long and become lost in my thoughts, the tree becomes a stranger staring back at me until I lose the contest, look away, awed by the ache of quiet.  Continue reading The 2011 Imaginary Family Project – Week 16

Music from the Man Cave: Chronology of My Concert History at THE INCOMPARABLE MYRIAD

I stayed up way too late last night watching a rockumentary about Rush on Palladia.  I love Palladia; it’s what MTV could have been.  I think it may be owned by MTV.  Nevertheless, there were musicians from several other bands talking about Rush and the influence that band had on their own music.  I started thinking about the times I’ve seen Rush and how they are kind of a man cave band.  I’m not sure why women don’t dig Rush like guys do….maybe you’ll enlighten me.
Anyway, that train of thought led me to man cave music and eventually to the concerts I’ve seen at, as they used to say, “ here The Incomparable Myriad!” Naming rights to the building have since been sold to Cox Cable but it’s still the Myriad to me.

My first concert there was in 1977 while I was just in 7th grade.  I could not imagine turning my 7th graders loose in a venue that large….not sure what my Mom was thinking but we both survived the experience.  And, I saw Led Zeppelin on their last North American tour.  Yes I did.  For $7.  John Bonham, if memory serves, played his orange chrysolite Ludwig drums and had a platform that rolled to the front of the stage for Moby Dick.  That and Jimmy Page being surrounded by a cone of lasers while he played his Les Paul with a violin bow are about all I remember…..but I was there DUDE! Continue reading Music from the Man Cave: Chronology of My Concert History at THE INCOMPARABLE MYRIAD

Oklahoma City Bombing Memory and Moment of Pause

I was working with a colleague of mine administering the “Iowa Tests” to seventh graders at Oklahoma Christian Schools.  We had already completed our short devotion, read the daily announcements, turned in the lunch counts and absences and briefed the students on instructions for their exams.  I hated Iowa Tests; to this day I tend to be a conscientious objector to the whole process.  However, my co-teacher Tammy was one of the “radical” teachers at OCS and if there was anyone to be stuck with all day long, coaxing our students through the never-ending task of coloring in circles, it was her.

I was strolling from the front of the class to the back, observing 24 heads bent down tediously over their papers as I passed when a rolling thunder-like roar filled my ears.  The ceiling tiles were lifting about six-inches from their positions as the shock wave passed, much like you might observe a crowd at any football game do “the wave.”  I immediately turned and caught Tammy’s eyes.  “Students,” I said, “please remain in your seats, close your tests, and pass them forward in order,” I said trying to keep my voice calm.  We had been experiencing a long-term construction process on the campus grounds and I assumed one of the Bobcats had hit a gas line.  The result from any explosion wasn’t going to be good.  I began to feel shaky.  I couldn’t imagine what my students were feeling at that moment.

Tammy and I conferred.  She would go check on the situation while I stayed with the students.  I opened the back door to visually check the construction zone while the students buzzed in speculation behind me.  All clear.  In fact, there weren’t any construction workers on the grounds at all.  The equipment was parked.  Could it have been a low-flying plane? Continue reading Oklahoma City Bombing Memory and Moment of Pause

My Little Victory Garden, Entry Nine: Gimme a Little Quiche!

One of my favorite Spring sights: Our Japanese Maple unfolding all its beautiful leaves to receive the sun's rays.

When I started these posts, I was a little worried about having enough content.  After my first two or three entries, however, I now struggle with CUTTING enough content to avoid overwhelming our reading friends with too much information!  This week was certainly another struggle.  Included in today’s post will be information about the bargain eggs at St. Francis of the Woods on Highway 33, the opening of the Edmond Farmer’s Market and some treasures I found there, a beautiful olive oil, tea and vinegar shop in Edmond, broccoli and why it bolts, and…101 ways to cook with spinach.  Okay, I’m joking about the spinach – I’m just sharing one way.  If I were going to write a book on 101 ways of anything right now, it would be, “101 ways to pack 12 gallons of cleaned lettuce in your refrigerator.”  We’ll get to that.  But first, my journey to St. Francis of the Woods… Continue reading My Little Victory Garden, Entry Nine: Gimme a Little Quiche!

All Quiet on the Western Front

A few days ago, I recieved a message from one of our fourteen contributors: “Hey Kelly, I’m helping someone write a book and I have ten special letters to write for a ceremony over the next two weeks.”

Then two days later from another contributor: “This is such a busy time of the year.  I think I’ll need to write ahead so I can take a break over the next few weeks.”

Then, another writer: “Hey Kelly, ___ is filling in for me because we have to leave for Dallas at 4 in the morning.”

All these quotes are paraphrased, but I think you get the picture.  Collectively, our team was experiencing more stress than usual, they have been turning out posts (some of them) for almost nine months.  Two of them have written more than 30.  We won’t talk about my numbers.  I was feeling it too.  The last two weeks in Spring simultaneously represent final homework to submit on my part, final grading, finishing preparations for summer interns, guiding the completion of those who served in the Spring, the final weeks of legislative session, etc.  “Et Cetera, Et Cetera, Et Cetera!” Continue reading All Quiet on the Western Front

Silent Sunday: The Work of Joy Franklin

About twice each week I check on “Expedition OK,” Joy Franklin’s photography blog.  These past few weeks have provided us with photos of her kitty, four-wheeling’, a Rattlesnake Festival, and much more.  Two of my favorites were the University of Science and Arts “Droverstock” festival and some quiet moments looking over love letters written by her grandparents.  Here is just a taste of that work.  See the bottom of this post for more information about Joy, her blog, and how to follow her on Twitter. Have a great Silent Sunday ~ [kelly]

Every child is an artist. The problem is how to remain an artist once we grow up. ~Pablo Picasso

 

Continue reading Silent Sunday: The Work of Joy Franklin

Barbershop Theology, Part Five: Down on Their Luck

I was sitting in a waiting chair as my dad whisked his barber clippers in short motions at the back of his customer’s neck. Another Saturday in the barbershop, a lazy afternoon of casual greetings, conversations about the weather . . .  I was probably reading a Richie Rich comic book.

The scene is quite clear to me because it was the second such experience of the summer. As the barber shop shoe shine boy I was privy to this man’s world of adult conversations and a wide variety of news and opinions.  This day the door opened, banged back and then opened for a gentleman who as pushing it with a crutch. I’m sure I stared.

He pulled himself into the barbershop and with clarity of speech and standing erect to muster some dignity he declared himself a beggar and would be most appreciative it anyone could help a fella who was ‘down on his luck.’  I stared because the man only had one leg and one arm. The lines etched into his face suggested that life had been hard for him. Very hard.

I’ll never forget my dad’s two questions. First, dad asked him how he had lost his arm and leg.  Without hesitating the fellow said that he had been trying to jump a train and he had ‘miscalculated’ the jump. Bad luck seemed to be the theme of his life, or at least that was his perception and he even conveyed a resigned attitude about it.

Then my dad asked, “Do you drink?” (My dad could cut to the chase like that.) Continue reading Barbershop Theology, Part Five: Down on Their Luck

NBA Playoff Preview: The Year of the THUNDER?

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I can’t remember the last time I was so excited about a sports team that I actually had high hopes about going into a postseason.  There have been plenty of expectations that I’ve had before on my sports teams (like all of those national title game losses with my OU football teams), but my emotional ties to the Thunder are almost palpable.  I would love to pick them to win it all, but my head just won’t let me.  It’s a little too soon to say that they will win it all this year.  Don’t get me wrong, they could.  They have the championship makeup of a winning team in the NBA, but I still think that it’s too soon to say that would happen. So instead I will be giving you who I think will win and why.

Let’s start in the not-too-difficult-to-predict Eastern Conference.  If there’s a person who thinks that the Indiana Pacers, the 8 seed, will make it a competitive series against the top-seeded Chicago Bulls, that individual should never watch sports again.  This was the easiest pick in the entire playoff bracket for me.  The Bulls defense is simply too good for the Pacers.

The next matchup is the Heat vs 76ers.  The Heat seem to have gelled toward the end of the year but to me, Miami is still the biggest wild card in the entire field.  The Heat really didn’t play as a team all year because it was pretty much D-Wade and Lebron carrying them the entire season.  Chris Bosh is a joke to me.  He’s the guy who puts up 25 points and 12 rebounds against teams like the Timberwolves but when he plays a team like the Celtics, he folds like a Bob Stoops National title contender (still bitter over all of those losses).  But now they have seemingly found a way to play together and that could mean gloom and doom for the rest of the teams in the playoffs.  What Doug Collins has done with this 76ers team is great but there just isn’t enough firepower on that team to take the Heat past 5 games.

This takes us to the most intriguing matchup in the first round in the East of Celtics vs Knicks.  Let’s get one thing out of the way.  The Celtics have been worse than an average ball club since the All-Star break.  In their last 21 games of the regular season they had a 10-11 record.  The infamous Kendrick Perkins trade that Danny Ainge coordinated has not only made them worse defensively, but also cohesively. Continue reading NBA Playoff Preview: The Year of the THUNDER?

Best Friends and Bullies Make Strange Bedfellows

“Bullying” has always been a buzzword to me, not entirely unlike “life skills” or “at risk.”  The similarity lies in the fact that I know the definitions of these words and I even use them occasionally, but they seem more like fodder for grant proposals or annual reports than concepts which exist in real life….or at least in MY life.

However, this year I’ve learned more than I want to know about real life bullying.  I can say in earnest that my quick education on the subject has been different and more painful than I expected because it involves my child.  I never thought I’d use the words “my 6 year old” and “bully” in the same sentence, but the reality is that these very sentences have consumed much of our recent dinner conversation as we’ve attempted to help our daughter solve some very real problems.

My child has a bully.  An interesting and complicating factor is that her bully is also her best friend.

As background, like many kids her age, Bailey tends to form friendships of convenience. She has played with her current BFF more than others in her classroom because they have a similar after-school situation.  This is not to say that the girls don’t have a good deal in common or share mutual affection, but being readily accessible is just as important to little developing minds.

At first, I was pleased to see Bailey buddied up with another strong personality.  The moment I discovered my child’s stubborn nature during the toddler years I developed a fear that she would choose friends based on ease of ability to control or manipulate.  I certainly don’t want my child to be the dictator in the room and have been relieved that this hasn’t been the case with most of her friendships thus far.  She and this little girl seemed to be a good match and played together well initially despite some run-of-the-mill little girl arguments.

Then, we started hearing stories about the friend’s antics at school. Continue reading Best Friends and Bullies Make Strange Bedfellows