The Final Months…

Teenagers. We were all one at some point. We were all probably pretty snarky to our parents, and the majority of us probably thought we knew it all and could take on the world.

As a parent, no one tells you just how difficult the final few months are; those last few months before they turn 18, when they are just chomping at the bit to leave the nest and start their lives. The home stretch just seems to drag on forever, and then, before you’ve realized it, 18th birthday has happened, and bam! They are running out the door before the candles on the birthday cake are out.

I currently have one teenager left in my household. She’s the final one of my underage kids. It’s been a very long journey; if you’ve followed my blog, you’ll know that my life has pretty much consists of raising kids, since I was 16.  Even before I had kids, I was the neighborhood / church babysitter. So basically, my whole life has revolved around children. I don’t mind it so much, but now I’m at a crossroads. I’m getting ready to be a fulltime “free” mama. This opens so many opportunities up for me, but that’s a blog for another day.

My last teenager as of late, has been really trying my patience. I love her dearly, but honestly, she’s getting to the point where I just don’t want her around right now. Don’t get me twisted, readers. I won’t give up on her, I won’t throw her out on her keyster. She’s a smart girl, but she is dumb in life. She makes thought-out choices in most situations, but her attitude of “I know best”, is getting the best of me. Not to mention, she’s said so many hurtful things within the last couple of months, it’s broken my heart. I know, I know. All kids do this. It’s perfectly normal. (Hell, I once was a heathen and completely disrespectful to my own mother).  But, as of late, she’s getting a little more bold with her mouth, I’ll spare you the gruesome details of that little slice. Grounding her just won’t work now, she’s too close to the end. So, let’s just say that I am thankful she has friends she can hang out with, and other parents to deal with her; it gives me a break and I KNOW she is better behaved when she’s out then when she’s at home. Repeat after me: This. Is. Normal.

She’s always saying how much she hates living at home, because she feels stranded (we kind of live out in the sticks, so I get it). She’s always talking about moving in with her friends. (Good luck with that, kiddo).  Once a parent observes her snarky ways, they’ll quickly give her the boot too. Granted, she may not be that way with the others, but you never know. Once the “new’ wears off, her attitude and unwillingness to help out on the parent’s terms, they’ll quickly give her the boot.

She is begging for a set of wheels, but she’s got no job, and I am just not in a place where I can afford to pay for a 2nd vehicle, let alone insurance. She knows that if she wants a car, she’ll have to work for it.  She’s failing right now in that department. I get that too; she wants to be a kid, and hang out with her friends, hiking, swimming, etc. She’s basically stuck between kid-dom, and adulthood.

What she doesn’t realize, is that when she’s out the door, I stop paying for all of her things; makeup, eyelashes, birth control, phone, clothes, food, etc. I probably won’t stop paying for her phone, but I will severely limit what she has access to. (meaning, she’ll get the joys of talk and text ONLY, but no snapchat, IG, or any other form of SM, because she won’t have access to unlimited data anymore).  I’ll still probably pay for her birth control, because she’s SO not ready for a kid, and admits that. Still, I’ll “threaten” her with it. (poor parenting? Maybe. But what would you do??)

I have high hopes for her, but she’s so unfocused right now; I feel like she will fall, and fall hard. I understand it’s part of the growing up process, but that doesn’t mean I’m not scared or worried for her. I can’t help that. Not only is she my last, but she’s my only girl. I don’t want anything to happen to her, the way things happened to me. I was stupid, I admit it. However, I was a product of my surroundings, and didn’t know better, not entirely anyway.  I was also a mom by 18, and I had way more responsibility than I knew what to do with, and had to make some pretty serious choices that would not only effect me, but my son as well. This is something I hope she doesn’t have to deal with at such a young age. (Raising babies as a teenager is harrrrrrrd). 

I can only hope I’ve done right by her, and pray that she can make it in this crazy, mixed up, world.  My job was to raise her into a strong, independent, fierce, smart young woman. She is all those things, but she hasn’t even begun to “live” yet. I never claimed to be a perfect parent, in fact, I probably had more failures than accomplishments. But I would say about 98% of the time, my kids came first. I made mistakes, lots of them. But I’ll never give up on these blessings I was given, no matter how hard they push me. God gave me a job to raise these children, and see them into adulthood. Some of them have had it harder than others, but they all turned out amazing. And as much as she is pissing me off right now, I feel she’s destined for greatness.

In the meantime, four months and counting. I’m hoping they don’t just drag on. I’m hoping they are easy. I’m hoping it’s a pleasant time for all of us. I’m hoping I can talk some sense into that little head of hers, and hoping that she’s got the gumption for understanding that, if you wanna act like a grownup, I’m gonna treat you like a grownup. But she’s damn sure gonna treat me with respect in the process, or she’s going to get a crash course in life, real quick.

I’d pray for strength, but experience tells me that the more I pray for strength, the more “obstacles” are put in place to “teach” me how to be strong.  I am just praying for her to be relaxed, open-minded, focused, loving, and respectful to all of us.

Until next time, dear readers…

~Mama

What Being Unemployed is Teaching Me…

As being someone who is recently unemployed, let me share with you a few lessons I’m learning along the way:

• There will be a LOT of unsolicited advice from those who are currently employed.
• You WILL get a lot of looks and comments from people who think they know or even, understand your situation.
• There are a TON of hoops you have to jump through, just to get noticed, or even apply for some sort of assistance, once you’ve eaten through all of your savings.
• Depression is a total bitch, and gets worse by the minute if you even stop long enough to think about the “what-ifs”, if you don’t gain meaningful employment, and soon.
• On a positive note, your house could potentially be….immaculate. (If you’re anything like me, dear readers, being stuck in the house all day, even after you’ve beaten on every door, and sent out 30 resumes and made just as many follow up phone calls, you tend to get a little stir crazy, and start organizing everything from kitchen cupboards, to living room furniture. Sweeping and mopping, a chore that was once a week or even every two weeks *gasp!* now becomes a daily occurrence.
• You start to experience your neighbors daily little nuances, like the all day trash burning. (Seriously, my lungs can’t handle it! and WHY would they put the windows so they open facing the fire pit, instead of against it? All that does is trap the smoke inside my house. So you get the idea that the only way to get around it, is to close up every window, and sweat (because it IS summer), only to realize that all that does is make the house stink even more, because the stench inevitably still finds a way in).
• You become hyper-aware of everything that is coming due…and try your damndest to figure out how to stave off the collectors, or pleading with the companies to keep your lights on.
• You begin to daydream about what you COULD be, if you had the money and the time to go to school. (A writer or journalist. A photographer. A party planner. An architect. Someone who works for places that makes a HUGE difference in the world around them).
• You start to think that maybe, juuuust maybe, you’re asking too much of a salary (even though you know damn good and well that the salary you had, is just enough to get by)
• You start thinking of creative ways to earn money until you find that career (Uber driver, donating plasma, newspaper boy, even selling off your possessions).
• You find creative ways to save money; for instance: taking only 2 or 3 reusable grocery sacks to the market, and only buying the necessary things that will fill it. (milk. bread. that all-important migraine medicine…)
• Your self-esteem takes a downward spiral because with each passing day you don’t receive a call-back or an interview, you think you’re just not worthy, smart enough, or maybe too old to be considered a great addition to a new team.
• You do your best to smile in front of others and avoid questions like, “how’s work going?” (Because you know that if you mention you’re without a job, they are looking at you with such pity, that it makes you feel so embarrassed and ashamed).
• When people ask, “hey how are you?” You’re first response is, “well, that’s a loaded question”.
• Praying (at least for me anyway), becomes a much more regular occurrence, even more than before. I find myself constantly thanking God for my life, and everything in it. The good, the bad, and everything in between. I ask for guidance. I ask for support. I ask for the constant migraine to go away long enough to be able to think with a clear head.

Yes, being unemployed sucks. No matter how you look at it. I look at others, especially now, with such envy. Look at how much they’ve accomplished. Look at those lavish vacations they are taking. You got a new car? That’s great! You’re buying a house? Man, are YOU lucky!

It all goes right back to, how the hell did I manage to live a life that is just mediocre? Oh, that’s right. I decided to have kids. I got accepted to go to college on three separate occasions. I gave that up to be a “mostly” present parent. With that, comes giving up a better future, career wise. It means, I only have my experience to rely on and the recommendation of others.  It means, I have to work harder NOW to succeed, if I’m ever going to. Sure I could go now, but that means I have to work a menial job and find more hours in the day that I just physically don’t have to do so. Sure it’s a temporary thing, like 4 years at most, but the payoff is better, right? Call me lazy, call me stubborn. I call it severe exhaustion.  The mind is willing, the body is not.

But, At least I have my kids to show for my life, right? That’s something positive? They really ARE great kids, even WITH their flaws. They are beautiful and wonderful, even if that doesn’t pay the bills, at least I know I raised ’em right, on matter how much grief I got from others on my methods.

The question I get a lot is, “If you had the opportunity to live your life differently, would you? What would you change?” While I can’t change the family I was raised up in, I probably would have taken up the option to move in with my father, instead of staying with my mother. She tried, hard, God love her, she tried. But she was very distracted. I didn’t feel protected. I didn’t always feel loved. But, I had great friends. I grew up in a great church. High School sucked, and I never fit in. I was looked down upon as a statistic because no one knew my story. I probably would have never had the opportunity to visit my grandmother in VA every summer until I was 16.

I probably wouldn’t have gotten molested as a child, or raped at 16, or be a teen mom to a mother of 2, by the time I was 19.  I wouldn’t have been blamed for the break up of my mother’s 2nd marriage. I never would have met my first (abusive) husband, or lost a baby. I never would have travelled up and down the east coast. But…I would have had a stable family growing up. I may have been closer to my siblings, than I am now. I would have gone to college. I would have driven at a younger age. I wouldn’t have turned tricks and I certainly wouldn’t have been homeless, or forced to live in the middle of nowhere (literally, the closest town was 15-20 miles, and it was a one-stoplight town with no grocer or eatery, just a post office and a few buildings).  I would certainly be a lot better off than I am right now.

I realize that, while things would be way different if I had done things differently, my life would not have affected those around me either.  I wouldn’t have been there for my brother when he needed me to be. I wouldn’t have been there for Cat, as she experienced some of her trauma. I wouldn’t have had the kids I have now. I wouldn’t have made great friends.

My life feels like a total train wreck so often, I need to remind myself, that my life really has touched others, in ways I’ll never know.  I often forget that there IS a purpose for me, I just haven’t figured out what that purpose is….yet.  I can’t see the whole picture, but I feel like there just has to be something good coming…eventually.

So, I ask, as I always seem to do, please keep me in your prayers and send good thoughts and positive vibes my way.  I’m spending wayyy too much time in my head, and really need to be able to focus on getting my life straight.

Until next time, readers….

~Mama

 

Forced to Reflect

It seems like every so often, I get a bee in my bonnet (as the saying goes), and I’m compelled to write.  For me, writing is a cathartic act, and one of futility. It seems that most of my inspiration comes spewing forth in the midst of crisis, as is the case with this particular blog post.  Today I write this, in the hopes that it gives me some relief, and a moment of clarity; just enough so that I can move forward and make positive changes.  Consider this as my moment of purging my mental sickness, and the writing is my prescription to emotional well-being.

Backstory: I swore in 2017 that 2018 was going to be my year. Let me say that again: MY. YEAR. And as it happens, it started out, incredibly. I had a beautiful man, a real and true gentleman.  I had accepted a position at an up and coming deconstruction firm. I finally bought myself a well-deserved, economical and updated vehicle. I even started the long-awaited divorce proceedings.  Yes, 2018 was really shaping up to be the best year I’ve had in a long time.

Things were coming along nicely; we celebrated my youngest grandchild’s first birthday, and my Marine came home for a visit. I was able to go on a trip to Utah, to celebrate my bestie’s 40th birthday. My guy whisked me away for a lovely weekend in the islands. We  had gone to several plays and shows. I was able to “afford” living, meaning I was able to pay my bills on time, and even had a little money left over to save.  I was finally feeling like I was able to breathe. After 40-something years of being stressed out, things felt…right.

Then, one by one, things started falling apart. That great guy? He left me. No real reason to it, he just decided he wasn’t interested anymore. That great job? They let me go. (It was one of those, “last one in, first one out” situations. They couldn’t afford to pay me what I was worth, so they gave me the boot).

My old boss begged me to come back to work for him. When we spoke about it, he refused to pay me what I was asking, even though he just lost an employee. (Really, all I was asking for was a slight increase, to make what he would have been paying her, for that position. He refused and said I could make it up in commission, but that’s not a guaranteed income, and I couldn’t rely on that).

I found temporary employment for a large conglomerate who shall remain nameless, but as I quickly found out, they refused to pay me a better wage, took away my weekends, informed me that there would be no reprieve for the holiday AND OT was mandatory. This is not the type of schedule I can work, due to family obligations, and my health situation.

Let me not forget to mention that while I’m over here struggling to find employment, my son/daughter, has to have surgery for an illness that was on-going, but didn’t rear it’s head until now. Combine that with his baby mama/life partner, being in and out of the hospital for another cyclical vomiting episode that leaves her weak and dehydrated, they have no one to care for my granddaughters.  At least I can help them with that…for now. Since they are without a vehicle, I am able to get them back and forth to the doctor, and take the girls a little more while they recover.

During all of this, about the only thing that went right was my divorce, even with a slight hiccup in the courtroom (their computer system crashed), I was finally granted freedom from the “spawn of satan”.

So, here we are today.  Jobless. I’ve applied for countless positions. But, I’ve been made to feel bad by someone very close to me, who seems to lack a filter when it comes to speaking their mind. Granted, this person was extremely apologetic, and understood the error of her ways, but her words resonated with me for a long time. I feel very ashamed that I’m back here, with no way to support my family. I feel like I’ve let them all down.

I hear the voices of the past in my ears, judging me as they have before.  It physically hurts to think about it as I uncontrollably replay it, over and over. PTSD is a total bitch. Her sisters, anxiety and depression are even worse.  The hole I’m in doesn’t feel good at all, no matter how many times people tell me, “don’t worry, it’ll be okay”.  The last people to tell me that, screwed me over so bad, that it pushed me to the edge of darkness, the likes of which I’ve never seen before, and hope to never see again.

So, I fight. I push. I cry. But, I don’t give up. I have to find employment, somewhere, and soon. I really want to go to school, but I don’t have four years to spend on it. I don’t have the energy to work and go to school. I can only rely on the experience I have, and hope that’s enough for employers to really give me an opportunity to flourish. If I could go to school, I would study languages, theology, art history, and ASL.

I think back to when I was accepted to not one, but three different colleges for their art program. I think about the circumstances that prevented me from accepting those offers, from my mother being sick and in the hospital for three months or so, and no one to care for my siblings, to being a single mom and not able to attend college because I had four small children to care for (working full time, having a large family, AND going to school just was too big a task to take on alone).

I have worked most of my life.  I have managed to make ends meet, one way or another. Even when we were homeless for six months, I didn’t give up. I couldn’t. Everything I ever did, I did it for my children. And here I am, once more, doing things for my family. I still have one minor child at home, (for at least 6 months). I am struggling. Again. This brings me to my question…

Why do some people seemingly have better luck, than others?

Are they more or better prepared? Are they afforded certain luxuries and perhaps, more privy to better info than say those who were never told or shown?

What makes it so some people fight their whole lives to get on top, only to barely make a dent in the ceiling, while others are able to glide right up there and see above the crowds?

Am I not fighting hard enough? Am I not worthy of great things? Or…did I just draw the short straw?

I hate to use the word envy and luck, because it sounds so sinful and prideful. But, in some cases, I am envious of others “luck”.  Case in point, I know several felons who spent 20 or more years in prison. Recently (and some not so recent), their term came to an end. Once they were out, they were given opportunities to succeed. And those men? They aren’t just surviving, they are thriving. One owns a local business, and is close to the Mayor of our town. The other is getting ready to buy his own home and recently started his own business. Sure, they have to follow a little more rules, and check in with PO’s and jump through some additional hoops. I’m sure it’s not easy, but it’s got to be easier than what I’m dealing with. They even have women that stand by them!

Hell, even my own sister, who basically caused my mother to lose her house that she worked so hard to get, who gave up 3 of her 5 kids, who is married, and has a great life (at least, she perceives it this way), is seemingly way more successful than I am. She’s been forgiven, by the family. Yet, They won’t forgive me, because I won’t apologize for my life, or my “wrong-doings” that had zero effect on their lives. The prodigal daughter returned, and because I made a choice to protect MY child, I’ve been shunned, despite all my efforts to try to win their approvals. This seriously boggles my mind.

I begin to question it all; what makes that felon or my sister, any more deserving than I? Why do they get handed a golden ticket? Why do they get an opportunity to prove themselves, but someone on the outside, who’s spent more years struggling than succeeding, any more undeserving of those same opportunities?  Do I have to commit a major crime or ruin a family, just to get them too?

They say, “Keep your head down, work hard. Have faith, take risks. Learn all you can and you’ll have great rewards in the end”. So, I do that. I keep my faith. I work hard. Damn hard.  What do I have to show for it? A big family. No money, and I’m on the verge of possibly losing it all (for a second time), but I have a big family. I have my kids. My grandkids. I have a decent circle of friends. But those friends all have the material things needed to survive. A home. A car. Savings. No real worries about losing any of it.

So…what am I doing wrong??  I know I’m not alone in this struggle, there are probably thousands, if not millions of people like me, who struggle daily, if not more than me. There is no fairness in life, and it’s total bullshit that things can’t be easier, for everyone.

Fact is, I am a twice-divorced, single mother of 4, who’s been raising babies since I was 16 years of age. I have been working for a long time, and I’m falling down the rabbit hole again. I’ve no continuing education, no long term relationship, and for what it’s worth, I’m feeling just…ordinary. I don’t have any stand-out qualities. I feel like a total failure. I’ve done right enough by my kids, but in all other aspects, what have I done, to make a mark on this earth? Not a damn thing.

In closing, I’m going to keep doing me. Keep pushing forward. I’ll keep the faith and hope and continue to pray fervently, that something amazing is going to happen in my life, something is going to give, and things will come to a head, and will make it so I won’t have to struggle so much. In the meantime, I’ll keep loving on my babies, and their babies too. I’ll do my best to be a positive light for them. It’s all I got.

Until next time….

~Mama

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

Learning to Save Money with a Teenage Girl

Most of my friends have children that are babies, toddlers, or elementary school age. There are a few that have high schoolers, but it seems that they are newbies at the whole teenager thing.  They have not had the experience yet of the next step of children: becoming teenagers.  This has proved to be a  difficult thing for me, in that I have had to do most of my learning and commiserating with women who have no idea what I am talking about.  The few friends that actually do have teenagers about the same age as mine, don’t really understand the joys of parenting said teens on a more than tight budget.

My family consists of 4 children; 3 boys, 1 girl. All the boys have long since moved out on their own, to raise families, start careers, or become members of (no particular) branch of the military, (another part of the “firsts” for my circle of friends).  The only child left, is my (almost) 16 year old daughter. In one respect, I’m very grateful my boys were first, and all that’s left is the girl.  (I never really knew or understood just how much energy and effort it takes to raise girls.  By comparison, my boys were easier.  Sure, they had their own set of issues, but nothing compared to the girl).

So, backing up for a moment, when I had all four of them living at home, expenses were tight. Real tight. I had to really utilize a budget plan, and make things work with very little money. Dinners were made usually from scratch, because it was slightly cheaper (and healthier), than buying all sorts of pre-made junky stuff. (Not that we didn’t eat our fair share of of mac and cheese and hot dogs, top ramen, or pancakes, mind you).  We relied on food banks, and help from others. Christmases were generally provided by charities, families, and so on. I afforded only a small amount of cheap presents, while the “good stuff” came from others. (talk about feeling bad about a situation).  Still, we made the most of it. We had our traditions, (Christmas story readings, Christmas eve mass, pumpkin patches, egg hunts, etc., anything that cost very little or nothing at all). There was no child support. Of course, I did go out to the bar, but I rarely drank, instead had my drink of choice: cherry coke, with 5 (yes 5), cherries in them. (or, someone would buy me a drink).  I nursed the hell out of it. I just needed the time be out of the house and be an adult, not just a “Mom”.

There was not extra income; I could only really make time for 1 job while raising a family.  Like I said, I had no choice but to buckle down, just to live paycheck to paycheck.  And that’s what I did. I managed my money, to the best of my ability, making sure the bills were mostly paid on time, and we kept a roof over our head (for as long as possible).  At one point, we lost our home, But that is a story for another day.

Since the boys moved out, (the last one moved out in June of this year), it’s been interesting to say the least, on trying to figure out how to adhere to a budget. While I have a little more breathing room, I am still scraping by. Not really sure how to fix this, or why I’m still scraping. Then it dawned on me. I have a teenage girl.

I really took a look at this, and how we are spending money. More than half the time, we eat out. I will “splurge” and by things she wants, on a whim. The biggest expense as of late? Homecoming.  After I tallied up everything I paid for (excluding the dress and shoes, someone else bought the dress, and the shoes were from last year’s outfit). I still ended up spending over $500.00. (Dinner, nails, makeup, ticket, accessories, etc.).  This really bothered me, a lot. How the hell could I manage to spend that much money, on ONE function? I had it planned out; I needed to save money too, because her birthday is less than a month away, then the holidays are back to back, and then, I’m throwing my youngest a going-away party as he heads off to basic. So much for saving money.

As the winter months come rolling in, and all these expenses pile up, I’m sort of at a loss. My brain hurts from trying to figure out how to spend less, while teaching my daughter about money all at the same time. She gets it, (sort of), but still expects me to go full out for these events. (Unfortunately, she got an early glimpse of being spoiled early on, because being the only girl, she sort of became “token” and was showered with gifts and things early. My boys did not have that luxury. It was definitely not an all encompassed way of life for them, and it was very frustrating for me, to say the least, because now I have the monster that has been created, and I’m dealing with how to correct this before she gets out there in the real world).

Basically it boils down to this: I need to find a way to make more money, or learn to save it better (where did that discipline go??), and teach my darling daughter, that if you want nice things, you have to earn them, and not just expect them to fall into your lap. I’ve tried the allowance thing, but that doesn’t work too well, because she spends the majority of her time with her friends. (her thing is, “well I don’t make all these dishes, why should I have to wash them? I don’t make all this trash, why should I have to empty it? While I kinda get where she’s coming from with that, it’s frustrating because I don’t have a better come-back than, “Because I said so!”

I hope as these next few months play out, that I can figure out a way to manage my finances better, and make all these events happen, with minimal spending.  I subscribe to various newsletters that help explain these sorts of things, but it’s all about being held accountable for it. I have no one to do that for me, except myself, and like most people, I fall into a pattern of sheer laziness, simply because it’s easier than actually being disciplined and focused. (Come one, admit it. You know you do too).

Any ideas on how to make that happen? Any ideas on how to hold myself accountable, without giving in to the slothiness of instant gratification?

2015 – or – The Year I turn 40

Welcome, welcome, one and all, to the year 2015.  As the title states, I will officially turn 40. I have been looking forward to this moment, with bated breath.  Why?  Because I will finally be an “adult’.  I made it thru my childhood, my teens, twenties, and thirties.  Look out world, glorious forty is almost here!

When I was a teenager, all I could think about was becoming an adult, to get out from my mother’s rule, and do the things I wanted to do.  Before I was even 18, I had one child in tow. I had to figure out how to be a kid, raise a kid, and be a “good sister” to my siblings.  Finding that balance eluded me, and it lead to much teeth gnashing and hang-wringing.

By the time I was 19, I had two children, a husband, and I was living at home.  So again, I had to find the balance between, wife, mother, sibling, and child. This led to me leaving home for good.

In my twenties, I lived with my husband, and was made to be subservient. (are you seeing a pattern here?) I left him after a year and a half of bullshit abuse, broken bones, and the loss of baby #3.

I kept trying to find my niche, my calling.  Where did I fit? I never felt like I fit in anywhere.  What was I good at?  I never really felt good at anything.  My babies were always first tho, and over time, I came to realize, that being a mother was what I am good at.

By the time I was 25, I had one more child added to my growing pile of minions.  I made mistakes in laying with all of my childrens fathers, but from my promiscuity came such greatness in the ones I love. (and before you cast that first stone for having multiple baby daddies, know that I learned from my mistakes and came to realize that sex should NOT be given freely, just because someone bats an eye. I love ALL my children).

When I was 27, I lost the ability to have children, because they found the start of cancer in my uterus.  They found that the reason I had a period, everyday, nonstop for an entire year, was probably due to the cells they found that was going to take away this ability. I had a choice. Fight it, or kill it before it took over. I chose to end the process of babies. I had an oblation. No more periods, no more babies, just an empty, barren wasteland that was once a loving, safe environment for those I chose to have. I was beyond heartbroken, because I wanted….wait for it…..seven children.  Why so many?  Because of the love I have felt from them.  Children have shown me what most grown folks haven’t: unconditional love. I wanted to feel that more and more. I wanted to leave them with a feeling of belonging, family, love, support. I thought, well even if I didn’t have a partner to love me, I will teach them to love themselves, AND each other.  I finally gave up almost all hope I had of having more children.

29 was a HUGE milestone – God granted me the one thing I had been craving, a fourth child. The wheels were set in motion and I “adopted” my 5 year old nephew.  While never officially signing adoption papers, I did take full, legal custody of the boy. And boy was he a handful. He was a mess the minute I got him, just all over the place, totally hyper, out of control, mood swings, the works.  I remember standing in the courtroom for the 2nd and final time (a story for another day), and the judge banging the gavel that sealed the deal.  I remember when my sister got on her knee and kissed him and told him she loved him and that he was going to a better place for a while; and that she would write and call every day. I remember his dad saying the same. I felt that I had a duty to take care of this child that was placed in my care, and that we were going to be closer than ever. I believed in her, as much as he believed in them.  We drove to our friends house that day, we had to board a plane the next morning and I wanted to give him some time to relax and just be a kid.  I filled the tub, and washed him.  I was so careful with him, like he was a newborn. I remember how he loved the giant tub and how he splashed. It was very symbolic at the time, even before I realized it. We flew home the next day, and the feeling was…..indescribable. I was excited and grateful for this human that was given to me.  Little did I know he would become a permanent fixture in our life. God had granted me just one more child to care for. I was content with completing my family; 4 children.  Wow. what a blessing.

At 35, I married yet another asshole the size of the grand canyon.  I know, I know.  Lookin’ for love in all the wrong places only gets you burned.  But, I always tried to look past the negatives and see the better side of said assholes.  I failed. Every. Time. The best memory of that mistake?  My daddy got to walk me down the aisle.  He died a year and a half later.  And i’m the only one of his kids he got to do that for.

Here I am, 39 years old. What have I accomplished?  What have I given up?  Where has my path taken me? From lovers, abuse, motherhood, grandparenthood.  I never thought I would ever see 40.  I never believed I would accomplish any of my dreams and goals I set out for myself. I always struggled with the “well yeah, maybe I want to be a writer, a painter, an astronaut, a photographer”. I always dreamed I would go to amazing places and be well off.  I never thought I would be twice married, a single parent, and on occasion, a welfare recipient. I never imagined being homeless, or beat by my partners, stolen from, lied to. I never thought for a second I would have the children I have, the grandchildren, or the love that overflows from them.

My biggest fear of turning 40, is that in just 3 short years my last child will turn 18.  In 3 short years, I will be…..alone. No more babies to raise. I have no idea what that is going to be like.  I’ve never been…..alone. I’ve had my few days of quiet house here and there, but never had the freedom to just go wherever, whenever, with whomever (or not!), I choose.  While the whole thing excites me, I’m just not sure I can handle it.  I’ve struggled to find my identity, and while I figured that a big part of it is being a mother, I just don’t know what else I’m capable of…..I have so many questions that need answers, so many fears to lay to rest.  How will I be able to do this next chapter without children in tow?

I trust in God, that he will lead me to great things. I have faith that there’s a whole new world out there, and that He is just waiting for one time to end, so that another can begin.  It’s just…well I don’t know what “it” is, but I know this: I WILL BE OKAY. 

In the meantime, how to celebrate 40??? 40 is such a monstrous milestone.  I had always hoped it would be the year of the “bang”.  Coming in like a lion, making such noise, having such pomp and circumstance. I kept thinking, I’ll get a crown! I ticker-tape parade! I’ll get to go on a real vacation!  I’ll be NOTICED! Now, I’m not thinking that’s going to be the case. I am just another 40 year old single mom. I deserve a cupcake at least, right? Any 40-somethings out there, have any advice as I turn the big 4-OH???

~Mama

First Christmas

A. Oleta’s first Christmas.

This is my youngest granddaughter.  I did her shots two weeks ago, for her first Christmas.  Despite comments made by some people regarding lack of skill set, I think these came out well.

Regardless, this post isn’t about that issue, this post is about grandchildren. She is such a happy baby, so full of smiles and just lovely.

I miss my own children being so little, but out their adulthood, I’ve gained grandchildren. I am thankful to see A Oleta regularly, but really wish I could see E. Rose.  The last time I saw her, was 3 years ago, at Thanksgiving.  She had such a wonderful time, we all did. I haven’t seen her since.

Her daddy, my oldest boy, got to spend a little time with her right before he left for basic.  It did his heart good to see her, but I know his pain is much worse. She doesn’t even know who he is, because her mother doesn’t want her to know him.  She just refers to him as a “friend from high school”. Kind of cruel if you ask me. I hope that one day, E. Rose will have an opportunity to know the truth, and be a part of our lives again.

Either way, I keep these beautiful little girls close to my heart, and deep within my prayers.

Happy last shopping weekend before Christmas.  Be safe out there, and enjoy your family. You only get a short time, make it count.

~Mama

Rumours

As the mother of teenagers and young adults, I’ve become quite familiar with just how quickly rumours and lies spread.  They aren’t kidding when they say it spreads as fast as wildfire, and creates as damage as much as one.  As of today, I’m learning the difference between rumours spread amongst boys vs. girls.

I always knew, even from my own experience growing up, just how vicious girls can be.  I was the butt of many jokes, usually because I was too skinny, too poor, wore hand me down clothes, or had glasses that encompassed half my face.  I was a four-eyed, nerdy, much too skinny girl from the ghetto.  Kids my age usually made me remember my place on the social ladder all too well.  There were the few occasions when I didn’t deal with this stigma, and usually it was when I went to visit my grandparents, or when I went to Christophany, a weekend teen retreat for young Episcopalians. I could find a way to not focus on my where I was from, how poor I was, and just be a totally different person, who was well-liked by all.

The reason I bring this up today, is because I realized a few weeks back that my own teenage daughter is becoming victim to the rumour mill.  She is normally a happy-go-lucky person, smiley and bubbly.  Talkative as hell.  Half the time I can’t get her to hush. As of late, she’s been quite the opposite; sadness in her eyes, not wanting to talk at all. It’s unnerving.

Today I received a disturbing text message from her “ex-bestie”, telling me that she thinks my girl was “drunk” this morning.  This girl went from saying people were telling her my girl was drunk, to, “oh I heard her say it in class”. (red flag number one).  Funny thing is, I can go home right now, and tell you that of the few bottle of wine I have, none have ever been opened. There is no beer, or hard liquor in the house either, and while she may enjoy the traditional “taste” of wine, just to see what it’s like, she has never once EVER had the opportunity to partake in full libations, nor does she want to.

I firmly believe this girl was intentionally trying to get my daughter in trouble, because her friends know that I won’t tolerate this type of behaviour.  I know that this girl and mine are no longer talking, but my girl has no idea why she won’t talk to her.  The girl has yet to give me a full explanation as to what happened, and just responds with, “just stuff”.

This isn’t the first time something like this has happened.  My daughter has had issues in the past with this girl, simply because my daughter wanted to be social with a mutual friend, even tho’ said mutual friend talked behind her back.  (no real proof, more of a heard it thru the grapevine, or rumour mill, if you will).  The friendship ended, the girl moved away, and that was the end of that situation.

Can you say, frustrated?  As a parent, I absolutely am.  Any other parents out there have any advice to share on this subject? I could really use it.

~Mama

Wish List!

The holiday season is upon us!  What is on your wish list?

When asked this question for the first time this season in church, (during the childrens sermon no less), there was only one thing IMMEDIATELY popped into my head. My son. I really want my son home for Christmas.  I started to cry a little, but tried to subdue it as I listened to the children shout out things like, toys, and clothes, and a new pet. I thought man, how lucky to want only material things!  They must have everything they could ever possibly want, so who can’t resist asking for a shiny new something under the tree?  My mind continued to ponder this.  I tried thinking of things I need and even wanted, like a new vehicle, or money for bills, or something for my kitchen even, but it all came right back to one thing…..family.

First and foremost I want my son home (in case you missed it, he’s away at boot camp and will be shipping off shortly after that.  Where I do not know. When, I could not say. I just know its coming.  Could be today, could be 6 months from now).

Second, I want his family to come home too.

Third, I really want to just have some sort of normalcy within the rest of my family; within everyone.  Squash all the beef, put aside differences and childish bullshit and finally act like a “real” family, instead of just genetic acquaintances.  I doubt this will ever happen, as there is too much resentment and anger towards each other, and too many lives have been affected by the games and lack of trust within.  The lines were drawn a long time ago.  And no one is willing to cross them for fear of additional “drama” or anguish, myself included.

However, as I have said in the past, my door is always open. always.  I can say this to be true for one person in particular, that even tho’ the door is temporarily out of order, and this is due to protecting one of my children, it won’t be forever.  Right now, his best interest is my priority, not hers.  She gave me that right when she gave him to me and dropped the ball on him.

I harbor no ill-will towards her or ANY of my siblings.  In fact, I long for everyone to just get along and stop being part of some stupid clique. We are a family.  We have children, and we need to leave our lineage and legacy on to them.  How can we do that successfully and completely if we can’t get over our own selfish pride?

I feel a sense of solitude when I think of my family.  It seems they all congregate together, and keep each other informed.  I am usually the last to know things, and its from a roundabout source, like the internet or a conversation in passing, rarely ever direct.  It’s painful to think about. But I don’t dwell.  I know that people grow apart from each other, it’s part of life I’m told.  That would be fine if we all grew away from each other, but we didn’t.  I did, rather I was “ousted”.  I feel abandoned in some ways.  Not by all, but by most.

Whatever the reason for discord, it doesn’t even matter.  What matters to me most is family.  And my christmas wish is to have all our family united again. Maybe one day it will happen.  Tis the season for giving and forgiving.  Be humble and meek, and remember that blood is thicker than water.  And if we can’t be together now, I hope someday we all can.  And we can all grow together in love.  Time is precious little, and I would rather not waste it on the “i wishes”, but rather spend it on the “man i’m glad I did that”.

~Mama

Traditional Meal?

The big day is nearly here!  Well, if you’re in the states and celebrate it, that is.

Normally I do a traditional turkey dinner, with dressing, mashed potatoes and gravy, sweet potatoes with marshmallows, corn, dinner rolls, green bean casserole and cranberry.

Last year I made a very untraditional meal, and it didn’t quite go over as well as I had hoped.  I told my guests to pick one dish that they wanted to see on the table.  They all gave me a dish and it was a disaster, because no one was feeling what the others suggested, so it ended up being a waste because no one wanted to try it.  Or they tried it, and said it didn’t feel right.

The year prior, I was with my sister and I helped her create a fabulous feast.

This year, I’m going traditional again, with a few tweeks.

Oh yeah, and instead of being bogged down in the kitchen for two days with a mountain of dishes, a sore back and achy feet, I’ve been preparing the meal since Sunday evening.  I also went with a traditional fare this time, as it’s the most well-received and I’m not in the mood for wasting food.

So I bought my turkey, and baked it to perfection.  I carved it all up, scooped out the drippings, and got it all ready to go for tomorrow.  Last night, I made 2 pumpkin pies and the sausage and sage, cranberry dressing, rendered the bacon and caramelized the onions for the pasta. Tonight, i’m preparing the sweet potato puree, creamed spinach, corn bread, cheesecake, and apple pie. Tomorrow, all i’ll have to do is put the turkey into the crock pot, make the mashed potatoes and the macaroni and cheese.

The kitchen is a lot cleaner, and while my back hurts and my feet ache, I am thankful that they won’t as much as they normally do on the big day.

Other than the meal, what types of traditions do you usually have?  I miss the days of being able to watch the great Macy’s Thanksgiving day parade, (waiting for the end to see santa was always a major significant thing for me, because it meant we get to stare at the toy catalogue for hours and christmas was soooo close to coming!), I loved watching football, or even tossing around the ole pig skin in the yard.  I especially love hearing the blessing, and even listening to everyone tell about what they were most thankful for.

Mostly I’m in love with being surrounded by my family and friends.  This fills my heart to the brim, then overflows into such joy. It’s a beautiful feeling really.  While all my children won’t be home with me, they are close to my heart.  I hope to skype with my son tomorrow. It won’t be the same without him home. *sigh*

Happy Thanksgiving everyone….may your day be filled with friends, family, food, love and fun.

~Mama

14…

Today my daughter is 14.  She is the youngest of my children, the only girl, and the light of my life.  No, I’m not playing favourites, all my children lighten my world. Her gift is her light.  She teaches me so much. Time moves so quickly. Seems like yesterday she was this tiny little baby, helpless, dependent, lovely.  Enjoy your children, they do grow up, and grow up fast.

Happy birthday, darlin’…I love you everyday, and twice on Sunday.