I took both my kids (11.5 and 9) to see Bully and I am so glad I did. For those who don’t know, Bully is a documentary that follows five kids and their families who are being effected by bullying in different ways–some more grave than others, all heartbreaking. I took a little flack for it from some friends as it was before the NR rating had changed to the PG-13, but here’s my POV: if I let my kids watch the news (kinda) and read The Hunger Games (yes), then they can see this movie–which, btw, is far more relevant to their lives than the news and more appropriate for them than Hunger Games.
I’m getting ready to go on vacation for spring break and nothing is better than the anticipation of having free, uninterrupted family time to relax and enjoy each other. It’s times like this that I am reminded of the vacations I spent as a kid in the Caribbean with my parents, as they were probably the happiest of my entire childhood and because of that they leave me with a deep ache and a profound sorrow for the loss of my Dad.
Weddings still get to me. I imagine they always will. Every kind of wedding from a small family affair to the Real Housewives of Beverly Hills. It’s not because of the joy or anticipation of watching two people join lives–although that is also lovely. Seeing a father walk his daughter down the aisle, lovingly give her over to an officiant and her betrothed and kiss her for the last time as his little girl. Then watching a father/daughter dance is another tear-jerker… Ok, its more of a sob fest.