Starting Too Early

I actually wrote this post this time last year. But I thought I would re-post it (with some updates) for three reasons:

  • Dude will be 17 tomorrow and this is my tribute to him.
  • It’s important to me to look back on this experience and savor the fact that my son is now normal and quite healthy.
  • To put my experience into the preemie pot, with so many (TOO MANY), stories of how our precious children had such a rough start to life.

(There comes a point, in every parent’s life, when you’re forced to wake up and face the fact that your children are no longer babies. The childhood stage has passed and you’ve entered a new, and in some ways, scarier phase of your child’s life: adolescence. It didn’t really hit me that my oldest son was no longer a child until he went to his pediatrician to get his booster shots a few years back and the doctor told me that he was halfway through puberty and though he still had some growing to do, he was well on his way to becoming a man.

This entry was hard for me to write. I pride myself on keeping my emotions in check. But I must admit, I could barely write this entry through my tears.)

My life tumbled out of control November 17, 1992. It was Kevin’s birthday the next day and I was frantic to find him a gift. I remember speed walking the mall, trying to find him something.

And I remember the most gawd-awful back pain, like ever. Little did I know, I was already IN labor.

I had no idea what was happening to me. I had never been through this experience before and there was no one to ask.

I woke up at around 3:00 the morning of November 18th with pains. I thought they were gas. BAD gas. So, I went to the restroom.

My water broke.

But still. I was in denial. It was too soon. This couldn’t possibly be what I thought it was, right? I woke Kevin up, told him what was going on, and he shooed me away, told me it was nothing, rolled over and went back to sleep. (I’ve teased him about this endlessly over the years).

I went back to sleep, but it was a fitful sleep. Finally, I got up at 6:00 and just sort of puttered around. The pains were getting worse and I knew, something wasn’t right, but I still wouldn’t admit that I might possibly be in labor.

Kevin suggested that we wait until 9:00, when my OB/GYN office opened, and we would see what they said.

It wasn’t until I called, told the nurse what was going on and heard the urgency in her voice to get to the hospital NOW, that I finally admitted I was in labor.

We flew to the hospital. The pains were getting pretty bad at this point, but nothing I couldn’t handle. They examined me (I think I was a three) and gave me my epidural.

Dude was born two and a half hours later. He just slipped out, he was so small, but believe it or not, he was 4 lbs and 12 oz.

That’s pretty big for a preemie. And I later learned, an advantage.

Because he arrived eight weeks too early (and on Kevin’s birthday, no less! All of the nurses got a kick out of that), his lungs hadn’t fully developed, so he had to go under an oxygen tent. Only, he wasn’t ready for that and they had to intubate him.

To top it off, and because of my stupidity, he developed a blood infection because I waited too long to go in after my water broke. He had to have a blood transfusion.

I beat myself up over that for a number of months.

It was touch and go for a while. His weight dropped pretty quickly that first week and there would be visits where the doctor told us things were looking grim and other visits where the doctor told us that things were looking up. It was an emotional roller coaster and one I would NEVER wish on anyone.

A Rough Start
(Dude, right after birth.)

Dude was a puny kid. He had to come home on a monitor because his nervous system was still a little underdeveloped and he would sometimes forget to breathe.

Bringing Him Home
(Kevin, holding Dude our last night in the hospital. We were preparing to take him home the next day).

The monitor made everyone extremely nervous; I got used to it. Though it did go off several times, only one time was an actual emergency. It was the middle of the night and his monitor beeped. I instantly woke up and raced to his room. In the past, all I would have to do was turn on the light and that was enough to stimulate him back into a breathing pattern. Only this time, it didn’t work and I had to actually touch him and gently shake him awake before he started breathing again.

I’m pretty sure I lost a year of my life that night.

There was never any explanation as to why my water broke and I went into labor exactly eight weeks early, but the booger bear slipped out at about 11:00 in the morning and we were never so scared, and so thrilled to see him in all our lives. He stayed in the NICU for six weeks because his lungs hadn’t fully developed and though he was a big preemie – 4 lbs. and 12 oz., he lost so much weight in the first several weeks he dipped down to the 3 lb. range. The hospital wouldn’t release him until he hit the 5 lb range – it took six weeks to get there.

The nurses loved him. He was smiley and generally in good spirits. He had to be fed through a tube through his nose for quite a while and his oxygen levels would dip so low while feeding that yet another monitor would beep and scare us half to death.

Special Nurse
(His special nurse, Wendy, was very attentive and very kind to us in NICU).

I was an emotional wreck that whole six weeks and spent countless hours just sitting and either stroking him, or talking to him. We had to scrub our hands with disinfectant before they would allow us into the unit and I remember my hands looking like raw hamburger meat before it was all said and done.

Dude spent his first Christmas in the hospital. We even have a picture of Santa holding him.

First Christmas

It was easily the most difficult Christmas of my life and I remember crying myself to sleep especially hard Christmas Eve and Christmas night. All I wanted for Christmas was to hold my baby without having to be careful of accidentally dislodging a tube.

The Grandparents Saying Hello
(My folks, holding Dude for the first time).

Even though Dude was born prematurely, he never fell behind his peers. He quickly caught up on the growth charts and has never had any emotional, or physical complication as a result of his early start. My oldest son was simply impatient to start this thing we call life. I believe he takes after his momma. *smile*

Me and Oldest Son - 1992
(Dude and me a few days after we were allowed to take him home. I was terrified).

Dude will be seventeen tomorrow. I keep thinking this must be a mistake – it’s really been that many years since bringing him into the world to charm the NICU nurses? And sometimes I catch myself just staring at him in wonder because my little boy is completely gone – and in his place is a handsome young man with an infectious smile and the kindest heart you will ever encounter. He is a quiet, introspective sort of personality; he’s shy but warm, subdued but charismatic. He has never been a very talkative person, but when he speaks, people listen. He is a gentle soul, my Dude, and I pray he grows up to be a well-rounded individual because God knows I made some mistakes with him. I’ve since learned from those mistakes, but I will never forgive myself for them.

Son, you have blessed our lives and given us purpose. Thank you for being such a great son, a decent human being and a special individual. I hope you remember your childhood fondly and will someday understand why we made some of the decisions we made. I now pray you enter manhood with confidence and feel ready to tackle whatever life throws at you. And I hope you will remember that no matter how old you get, you will always be our special little preemie.

Happy birthday son. We love you so very, very much.

After Braces Came off


More from Write From Karen

Monday Stuff

Not Me Monday


I did not wash Dude’s cell phone. I always check my sons’ pockets before throwing their pants into the wash. And I did not feel just a teeny bit glad that it was ruined because that meant none of his friends could call and ask him to go out anywhere which meant he would be forced to stay home, safe and sound.

I would NEVER feel that way. Nope, not me.

I absolutely did NOT sweet talk my husband into hemming Jazz’s band pants for him because I’m a GOOD little home maker and I would never willingly give over a traditional “woman’s” job to my husband because I am definitely a home maker sort of woman.

Nuh huh, not me.

Hemming Pants
(And you do not see this photo, either. Move along. Nothing to see.).

I most certainly DID NOT encourage my husband to go out and buy the bike of his dreams this past Saturday because that simply would have been irresponsible of me. No good wife would WANT her husband to buy a street bike and possibly crash, no sirree.

New Bike
(Just ignore this photo – what photo? Exactly).

And it would just be cruel for me to knock on the window and make all sorts of funny faces and sweet smoochies at my husband as he’s precariously balancing up on a ladder and cleaning out the gutters.

I would never do that. What sort of woman do you think I am?

And if you DARE to think that I would be 6,000 words behind on my National Novel Writing Month project well …..

You would be right about that one.



Giveaway: 2010 Baby Blues Desk Calendar

And the winner is ….

#4 – JEAN!!


Congratulations, Jean! If you don’t hear from me by the time you see this, please contact me with your mailing address.

Thanks to everyone who played!!

Comments are open. But the contest is closed.


baby-blues I’m a big Baby Blues fan. I’ve been buying their desk calendars for years and this will be my third year giving their desk calendar away to one lucky winner.

Want to win your very own 2010 Baby Blues Desk Calendar?

Here’s what you do:

Just leave a comment!

1. Each comment you leave in the comment section counts as one ticket. (One comment per day, please).

2. Subscribe to my feed, receive another ticket. (Please leave separate comment if subscribed).

3. Follow me on Twitter, receive another ticket. (Please leave separate comment if following).

I’ll draw a winner via at 11:00 a.m. CST November 16th.

random stuff

Men Will Be Men

Two bored casino dealers are waiting at the craps table. A very attractive blonde woman from South Alabama arrived and bet twenty thousand dollars ($20,000) on a single roll of the dice. She said, “I hope you don’t mind, but I feel much luckier when I play topless.”

With that, she stripped to the waist; rolled the dice; and yelled, “Come on, Southern Girl needs new clothes!”

As the dice bounced and came to a stop, she jumped up-and-down and squealed “YES! YES! I WON! I WON!”

She hugged each of the dealers…and then picked up her winnings, and her clothes, and quickly departed. The dealers stared at each other dumbfounded. Finally, one of them asked, “What did she roll?”

The other answered, “I don’t know… I thought you were watching.”

Moral of the story:

Not all Southerners are stupid.
Not all blondes are dumb.
But all men… are men.

Abundant Life

Teaching: The Benefits of Thanks-Living

Every Sunday I provide videos and valuable links to the Truth or Tradition teachings. We’ve been following the Truth or Tradition teachings for many years now and they have truly blessed our family. We have found peace and happiness through our beliefs and we walk confidently for God. My hope, by passing on this information to you, is that what you find here, or on the Truth or Tradition website, will guide you to a better, more blessed and abundant life.

If you would like to read my views on religion and how we got started with the ministry, you can read this.

Let’s get started:

Each November here in the USA, we celebrate a very godly holiday—Thanksgiving. The goal of this article is to motivate you to make every day of the year one of “thanks-living.” Thankfulness is a refrain that is often heard in Christian circles. In fact, the theme of thankfulness is something that should be central to our daily Christian practice. [1] I can recall many teachings I’ve heard through the years about all the various things we should be thankful for. There is no doubt that God is deserving of great praise and thanksgiving for all He has done. I marvel at the creatures mentioned in the book of Revelation whose primary purpose appears to be to praise God day and night. [2] Now that is some serious thanksgiving. Yet, in spite of this, I have wondered at times why God tells us to give Him thanks. I know He deserves it, and I want to do it, but it seemed a little self-centered that He commands us to give Him thanks. I remember being told as a child that I should not give something or do something for others if my motivation is to be thanked. Knowing that God always has our best interests at heart, I reasoned that there must be a deeper meaning to the giving of thanks. Then one day I learned the answer in a very powerful way.

My dog Adam had been my companion and friend for 14 years, and had seen me through many ups and downs. During this tumultuous time of my life I went through many legal problems and much financial difficulty. Adam was always a great comfort to me, listening to many of my conversations, never demanding much from me, and always lavishing great affection my way. He was always well behaved and never one to stray more than a few feet from my side, so much so that some even referred to him as my shadow. I watched my dear friend grow older and weaker as time wore on. His eyes began to dim, his hearing lessened, and his hindquarters weakened. Long gone were the days of fetch and play. I did all I could to comfort my dog, knowing the day would soon come when I would have to say good-bye for good. If you are not a dog lover or an animal person, maybe you can relate to my story if you have lost someone near and dear to you.

Well, the day came when my wife, Lori, and I headed to the veterinarian’s to put Adam to sleep. I held my dog in my arms, tears rolling down my face, as I told him how much he had meant to me. I sobbed as he closed his eyes for the last time. Both Lori and the veterinarian respected my request to be left alone with my friend. In the solitude of the exam room, deep in my grief I cried out, “God I need your comfort.” I held on to the promise of God’s Word that He is “…the God of all comfort, who comforts us in all our troubles…” (2 Cor. 1:3b-4a). I called to Him out loud, and then spoke what I believe was an inspired thought: “God, thank you for giving me such a good dog.” I instantly felt a deep joy well up inside me. I knew God had heard and answered me. It was in the giving of thanks that I felt His comfort. I left the veterinarian’s that day still very sad, yet having great joy and comfort in my sorrow.

Afterward, I continued to reflect on the great spiritual joy I experienced that day. It was apparent to me that there was a lot more to thankfulness than I had ever seen before. Maybe God was telling us to be thankful not just because He deserves it but because of what it does for us. I noticed that there was a direct connection between joy and thankfulness in many sections of Scripture. [3] In 1 Thessalonians 5:16-18, God says, “Be joyful always; pray continually; give thanks in all circumstances….” Many times I had read this passage of Scripture and wondered, “How can I always be joyful when there are times in life that do not lend themselves to joy?” Then I saw the key. I do not have to be thankful for every situation, but in every situation I can always find something to be thankful for and that is what produces joy. It is a matter of perspective, and I always have the ability of changing my perspective. That is exactly what God did for me the day my dog Adam died. I was focused on my loss, and that is what was producing my deep grief. God helped me change my perspective when He inspired me to think of what a wonderful pet Adam had been. When I thanked Him for giving me such a wonderful friend, my sadness changed to joy. [For further study, please read our article “To Grieve or Not to Grieve?“]

I believe thankfulness is a powerful antidote for many of the emotional and physical problems we see in our society. Thankfulness is a mindset we can choose, and one that we experience emotionally throughout our entire body. One’s state of mind and his physical condition are inextricably linked, and how you feel emotionally affects how you feel physically.

The medical community has scientifically documented the mind-body connection in regard to many diseases. [4] I read that “fear has been shown to trigger more than fourteen hundred known physical and chemical stress reactions, and activates more than thirty different hormones and neurotransmitters.” [5] Uninterrupted long-term stress has been linked to problems in the heart and vascular systems such as hypertension (high blood pressure), palpitations, and arrhythmias. Most recognize the emotional connection to ulcers, gastritis, heartburn, indigestion, and bowel irregularities. The list continues, including skin disorders (psoriasis, eczema, hives, and acne), pain, inflammation, suppressed immune systems, etc. [6]

The “psycho-somatic” connection should not surprise us. As God tells us in Proverbs 14:30, “A heart at peace gives life to the body, but envy rots the bones.” This passage no longer seems an abstract word of wisdom, but a saying of great impact. Consider also Proverbs 15:13, “A happy heart makes the face cheerful, but heartache crushes the spirit,” and Proverbs 17:22, “A cheerful heart is good medicine, but a crushed spirit dries the bones.” The importance of God’s references to the bones is that bones contain the red and white marrow from which come the blood’s red and white cells. Red blood cells carry life-sustaining oxygen to the entire body and white blood cells are a primary defense in our immune system. God clearly directs us to the mind-body connection, establishing for us the deadly consequences of negative emotions in our hearts.

Our heavenly Father never intended for us to live in a state of unchecked stress, unresolved anger, bitterness, or unforgiveness. When we couple stress and negative emotions with poor nutrition and unhealthy environmental conditions, we have a recipe for sickness and disease. Stress, anxiety, anger, shame, guilt, bitterness, resentment, unforgiveness, and condemnation are killing us. “In the United States we consume five billion tranquilizers, five billion barbiturates, three billion amphetamines, and sixteen tons of aspirin every year.” [7] We are kidding ourselves to think that we can keep stuffing emotions year after year without paying a serious price. The medical evidence says that the price we pay is our physical and emotional well-being. One dermatologist stated that for many people, “eczema and psoriasis is the body weeping through the skin.” [8]

You can read the rest of the article here.

If you have any questions, or would like to learn more about God’s wonderful message, please visit the Truth or Tradition website. You can also keep track of the ministry through their Facebook page, their YouTube Channel, or follow them on Twitter.

Thanks for reading.

(Comments have been turned off. The information is here, it’s up to you to accept, or deny, it).

More from Write From Karen


Video: NaNoWriMo Tips to Meet Halfway Mark

Hello fellow WriMos!

We’re nearly at the halfway mark, which means you should be close to 25,000 words. But don’t worry if you’re not, you still have the entire weekend. Just shoo your family away, fire up that laptop/computer/pad & pencil and WRITE. Don’t think about it too much, just dig in.

As you can see ——–>, I’m not there yet, but I WILL be. Here are some tips to help you reach your goal.

As for me, I have a super busy weekend planned. Today, I’m heading up to the motorcycle place to pick up Kevin’s dirt bike (dirty carburetor), and possibly trade it in for a street bike (if that actually happens, watch for another post).

Then? Grocery shopping. (Boo).

Then? WRITE! I will likely go to the MSU library, with Red Bull in hand, and furiously write one, two, possibly three? (HA! Right) stories.

Tomorrow, I have laundry, other household chores, family time and THEN more writing. That’s IF I can get away from my family. My guys (and by “my guys”, I mean my hunky husband) tend to get a wee bit cranky whenever I pour all of my attention into my writing and not them. 🙂

So, the word for this weekend?!


random stuff, Saturday Stuff

Simon’s Cat: Cat Man Do

As you all know, I’m not a big animal person. I don’t dislike them, per se, I just don’t have a desire to own one any time soon.

With that said, I LOVE looking at pictures and watching videos of animals – animated animals are no exception.

I’m pretty sure children do this, too. It’s a good thing they’re cute. 😀

You can find out more about the author of this animation,Simon Tofield, at his website.

Have a GREAT Saturday, everyone!

Can We Talk?

It’s Time to Stop the Political Correctness – We’re Killing Our Country

I’ve been sidetracked. The whole Fort Hood massacre, NOT TRAGEDY, though what happened to those 50+ people who got caught in the cross hairs of some Islamic terrorist IS certainly tragic, has distracted me from my NaNoWriMo project. It’s distracted me from getting any work done at all, quite frankly.

It’s all I can think about.

Why? It wasn’t the act itself that has plagued me, though again, that is horrific in and of itself, but rather, the fact that our media REFUSES to call it what it is.

A terrorist act.

And believe me when I say, I’m not one to jump on the media bandwagon, oh contrare, I think the media, in large part, are political suck-ups who get paid to sensationalize and distort the truth all for ratings or a quick buck, but when there is overwhelming evidence that Hasan planned this attack and fully intended to kill as many American soldiers (which somehow makes it worse, I think) as he could take out and yet no one is calling it what IS, I can’t just idly sit back and not say what we’re all thinking.

I refuse to be silenced. I refuse to play the “game” any longer. I refuse to sit back and be a “good” little “submissive” American anymore.

Enough is enough.

Our media is skirting around the issue. “He’s insane. Let’s not jump to conclusions. It’s not a crime to call al-Qaida is it?” (Seriously. Can you believe this idiot actually said that? Are you effing kidding me?!)

Let’s call it what it is: Being politically correct.

Ladies and gentlemen, political correctness is killing our country.

Quite literally, I’m sad to say.

It’s one thing to have diversity; it’s another thing to be polite; it’s honorable to be tolerant; it’s nice to be accommodating, but when we are willing to bend so far over backwards in order to not offend anyone that we’re kissing our own asses and ultimately offending everyone? It’s time to stop the nonsense.

Look. Part of the reason why America is so awesome is because we welcome all walks of life. Want to live in America and continue recognizing your cultural background? Fine. Be my guest. Knock yourself out.

But here’s the thing: If you’re living in our wonderful country, there are a few rules you must abide by – like assimilating into our culture. Ultimately, people who live here SHOULD learn English. Why? Because that’s our primary language! People who have moved here SHOULD respect the fact that our country was founded and based on Christianity.

Does this mean people who live here or don’t believe in Christianity SHOULD convert? Of course not! It just means that it’s the majority religion so one should just prepare oneself to DEAL with the fact that Christianity is prevalent in our country.

There are going to be churches. There is going to be talk of God. There are going to be people in our government who believe in God and wish to uphold God’s laws. There are going to be holidays that honor our God. There will be people who live by our God’s Bible.

It’s WHO America is. It’s WHAT America is. It’s the BACKBONE of our entire country.

Why is this so hard to accept?

If one doesn’t agree with Christianity. Fine. That’s a person’s prerogative. If one wants to practice another sort of religion? Great. Do it.

But accept the fact that Christianity is the MAJORITY. And in this country, our great United States of America, majority rules. It’s a little something called democracy. Though we (and yes, I’m in with the whole Christian crowd because *GASP* I’m a Christian) work hard not to shove it down someone’s throat, it’s what the MAJORITY of American people believe in. We shouldn’t have to apologize for it. We shouldn’t have to be ashamed of it. We shouldn’t have to call it something other than it is. We shouldn’t have to dilute it.

And if we set a holiday aside, like Christmas, in order to worship/acknowledge/give thanks to our Christian God and his son, Jesus Christ, then we shouldn’t have to compromise and can call it something other than what it is CHRISTmas, just to avoid offending those that don’t believe in it.

To me, it seems pretty simple, if one doesn’t like the whole Christmas thing, then ignore it. Don’t acknowledge it. Don’t participate in it. Don’t get sucked into the commercialization. We won’t ask you to rename your holidays, or pretend they’re about something other than they really are if you will extend the same courtesy.

And honestly? If it bothers people that much, then MOVE. Make arrangements to move to a country that DOES support your views. If that’s not possible, then suck it up. You’re in America and that’s how America works.

Remember. We’re not asking you to give up your heritage. Your beliefs. Your sexual orientation. We’re just asking that you stop DEMANDING that we change our way of lives, our way of thinking and believing, the core values that built this country in order to protect your sensibilities and lifestyle; America has bent over backwards to accommodate YOU.

If you are willing to obey our laws and respect our way of life, then we welcome you with open arms. But it’s when people start demanding that we change our laws, or deny our culture/heritage/beliefs, that we should, that we NEED, to draw the line.

Enough is enough.

And not calling Hasan a terrorist, when in fact, all signs overwhelmingly point to the fact that he was, correction, IS, or to try and shift the blame from the individual who crossed that line and killed innocent American soldiers by trying to convince the public that he has some fictitious secondary post-traumatic syndrome is downright insulting – to the public, the families of the victims and to the victims themselves.

When we have reached a point in our society that we’re too afraid to speak up and nip an emerging problem in the bud because God FORBID we offend someone, or a group, it’s time we draw those lines in the sand and say, enough is enough. If it boils down to saving an American life or offending someone’s sensibilities, it’s time we do the right thing and protect our people.


When we have 10% of U.S. Mosques Preaching Jihad ON OUR OWN SOIL where the sole purpose is to gather and lament on the evils of America and how American people should die – ON OUR OWN SOIL, then enough is enough.

That is unacceptable, folks. Period. THAT’S taking diversity a bit too far, don’t you think? Preaching about the evils of America while IN AMERICA?!?

The fact that this is tolerated at all just boggles my mind.

I’m through pussy-footing around. It’s time we take a stand and speak up against all of this political correctness nonsense. Sure, we need to be mindful of the diversity and people’s situations and avoid “labels”, but when people start dying, it’s time we grow a backbone.

As I’ve said, I’ve been thinking about this a lot these past several days. I’ve been watching, and reading, news stories about the Fort Hood massacre and that got me curious.

Exactly HOW did all of this political correctness even get started? So, I did a little research (I told you I was distracted!):

1. Of, relating to, or supporting broad social, political, and educational change, especially to redress historical injustices in matters such as race, class, gender, and sexual orientation.
2. Being or perceived as being overconcerned with such change, often to the exclusion of other matters.

For the first time in our history, Americans have to be fearful of what they say, of what they write, and of what they think. They have to be afraid of using the wrong word, a word denounced as offensive or insensitive, or racist, sexist, or homophobic.

We call it “Political Correctness.” The name originated as something of a joke, literally in a comic strip, and we tend still to think of it as only half-serious. In fact, it’s deadly serious. It is the great disease of our century, the disease that has left tens of millions of people dead in Europe, in Russia, in China, indeed around the world. It is the disease of ideology. PC is not funny. PC is deadly serious.

If we look at it analytically, if we look at it historically, we quickly find out exactly what it is. Political Correctness is cultural Marxism. It is Marxism translated from economic into cultural terms. It is an effort that goes back not to the 1960s and the hippies and the peace movement, but back to World War I. If we compare the basic tenets of Political Correctness with classical Marxism the parallels are very obvious.

First of all, both are totalitarian ideologies.

Source: The Origins of Political Correctness

[Political Correctness] was developed at the Institute for Social Research in Frankfurt, Germany, which was founded in 1923 and came to be known as the “Frankfurt School.” It was a group of thinkers who pulled together to find a solution to the biggest problem facing the implementers of communism in Russia.

The problem? Why wasn’t communism spreading?

Their answer? Because Western Civilization was in its way.

What was the problem with Western Civilization? Its belief in the individual, that an individual could develop valid ideas. At the root of communism was the theory that all valid ideas come from the effect of the social group of the masses. The individual is nothing.

And they believed that the only way for communism to advance was to help (or force, if necessary) Western Civilization to destroy itself. How to do that? Undermine its foundations by chipping away at the rights of those annoying individuals.

One way to do that? Change their speech and thought patterns by spreading the idea that vocalizing your beliefs is disrespectful to others and must be avoided to make up for past inequities and injustices.

And call it something that sounds positive: “Political Correctness.”

Source: Political Correctness: The Scourge of Our Times

It sort of takes the shine off of trying to be all-accommodating, doesn’t it.

I also found a video that I thought was an interesting summation of political correctness, too.

Vodpod videos no longer available.

more about "The History of Political Correctness", posted with vodpod

The bottom line? Enough is enough. It doesn’t really matter how it started, it’s time to stop the insanity.

It’s possible to OVER compromise and you know what? I think America has. It’s time to stop being politically correct and get back to our core values and BE PROUD of those core values.

If people don’t like it? If people aren’t willing to accept our rules, our language, our culture?

Then leave.