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

A Word About Hospitals

I’ve been pretty lucky (to say the least), when it comes to spending time in a hospital bed. I have had only a few overnight stays, mainly due to childbirth.  I have had a few outpatient procedures that kept me from spending more than a day in recovery.

Sadly however, I have spent more than enough time within the confines of these buildings, due to others illnesses such as cancer, or in the case of my brother, severe colitis. (there is a specific name for what he deals with, and it’s really technical, but unfortunately I can’t remember what its called).

As he lay slumbering in the midst of professional caregivers and sterility, I feel compelled to write today.

The room service lady comes by every few hours with “ensure” in hand. Her smile greets us warmly as she places the protein drink next to the three others he hasn’t touched. He wakes briefly, and makes a silly comment about the movie playing on the TV overhead, as he readjusts his pillow and reaches for his phone to check his messages.

A bit later, the nurse comes in and gets vitals, and offers to administer an opium tincture to relieve the pain and nausea. She is playful and he refers to her as his “favourite nurse”.

As he drifts back to sleep for a short nap, the beep from the machine monitoring his health breaks through the silent air. It proves to be a bit vexing after a while, and eventually the nurse makes her way in to makes it stop.  I can’t even imagine what its like as the beep continues well into the wee hours of the night.

Soon enough, he awakes for a “constitutional”, and he seems a bit more alert.  He even feels well enough for a short walk around the floor, two laps is all he can muster before he’s tuckered out and ready for another nap.

In between moments of quiet, there are the defining moments of chaos; from the orderly who brings him fresh scrubs and changes his bed linens, to the plumbers fixing his sink. Brother is polite, but I can see on his face that he’s exhausted and just wants to rest.

I don’t consider him to be a “patient” of sorts, but rather still just a man who has hopes and dreams of what he wants in his future. We’ve talked about some of these. I imagine how frustrating it must be to be confined to his home, except for the occasions he’s moved to the hospital for monitoring.  He calls it his “mini vacation”. 

While my first reaction is to feel pity for him, or for any other patient in here, I don’t. I feel, empathy. I feel, hope. I feel as if those here, will get well. I know some won’t. I refuse to believe he’s here to die. I feel, just as a car would be in the shop for maintenance, he is doing the same.

When I spent many days here in the past as a support for my Dad who was fighting a hard battle against colon cancer, I had a different attitude. Back then, hospitals felt hopeless, where people came to die, not get well. When my Dad passed away, I became angry that life just wasn’t in the cards for him.  I was angry at the doctors for not doing something more to “save” him. Ironically, he wasn’t even at the hospital, but at home when he died.

As I sit here, I think about those times I spent with my Dad, and these moments I spend now, with my Brother.  We are approaching the 7 year anniversary of my Dad’s passing, (July 30th, actually), and these weeks of July are the very same weeks I spent with my Dad, here, ironically a few doors down from where my Brother is currently staying. I was also unemployed at that time, as I am right now. There are too many similarities about this situation that are unnerving, and I pray every day, that my Brother doesn’t pass on here, not any time soon.  We have only recently reconciled our relationship (something I never expected to happen), and we have a LOT of missed years to catch up on.

Hospitals can be a scary place, (and some people are terrified of being here), but rest assured, they are filled with very intelligent and caring people.  I can’t imagine how many prayers have been said in the very corners of this building, and how much life was brought forth, as well as how many ended here.

Be well, readers. Be well. Until next time,

~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

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

Tid-bits of information about yours truly…

I had created a list of fun facts the other day, and shared it on my facebook page. I decided to share them here, with a few additional noteable notes added.

Sci Fi is my favourite genre of movie, but I really get down with hitchcock classics, anime, and period pieces.

I never watch scary movies after dark.

I (still) don’t know how to cook for just 1 or 2 people.

I love spontaneity.

Lying is a huge dealbreaker for me, in any situation. (you get one freebee and after that, if and when I find out you’re lying to me, you can say goodbye). If you lack the respect to be straight with me, then you’re proving you don’t value me or our relationship, whether its a simple friendship or something more. To me, lying is the same as cheating, beating, and stealing, because none of these things come from a trustworthy place. So save the lip service, and be honest and real with me. I’m a big girl and can handle truths a helluva lot better than a lie, no matter how brutal).

I always put ketchup on my mac n cheese.

I believe in the power of prayer.

I will always have Enigma cued and ready to go on any given playlist.

I still have trouble focusing when I meditate.

I used to sing. A lot. When I was younger, I was part of our church choir (both children’s and adult), the school choir, and I spent several years in a girls choir. The last time I sang in a choir was as recent as 10 years ago.

I was a long time cynic on true love, romance and happily ever afters. Since I’ve had time to re-evaluate my life, I don’t necessarily discredit these things, but I don’t believe they are for everyone. (Some people’s higher purpose, I think, doesn’t have anything to do with being in a relationship, but rather to focus on loving others and making a difference in the world). As for me, a long time learning lesson has been that once I learn to love myself enough, (and I’ve come a long way on this), I KNOW that God will provide for my needs and that He has my best interests at hand, whether its with my soul mate, or as a lover of the world.

I hate gossip; it leads to hate, resentment and anger.

I have no less than three ideas that I want to sell online and at craft fairs, but sadly lack the capital to put them into action.

I put a ton of sugar in my iced tea, (it’s a southern thing, unless you been there, you wouldn’t understand this), but prefer cheerios or cornflakes over sugary cereals.

I hide candy all over my house, but usually forget about it before it goes bad.

I lack a sense of style, but in my own head, I think I’m pretty damn stylish.

I haven’t celebrated a birthday or holiday for that matter with an SO in many years. When I did have an SO, they were either too busy to spend it with me, or I would be dumped right before the event. I can’t even tell you the last time I was kissed on NYE or under the mistletoe by anyone. It’s kind of hilarious to think about, really.

I haven’t been able to wear heels since i was a teenager.

I simply adore old movies, and my favourite actor of said older movies is Jimmy Stewart.

Bellydancing, ballet and yoga are my favourite forms of movement. I do NOT know how to twerk and can’t help but laugh when I think what all those twerking, squating girls are gonna look like in their old age when they can’t do it anymore and their booties start sagging big time. (of course, if i could do squats or twerk, I’d be right there with ya’ll doin it too).

I love walking around the house, sans clothing.

I am not sure I’m cut out for single life, or for committed life.

Traveling to places like Morocco is something I’ve been longing to do for many years.

I have a secret crush on a man there.

I haven’t been able to watch Pink Floyd’s The Wall for many years now. It awakens too many demons i’ve banished to hell, but I absolutely love the passion and the artwork that’s in it. Very tempting tho…..

I have a very freaky side that has laid dormant for many years. MANY years. She’s been knocking at the door recently, and wants to come out and play.  She’s been hanging out in my music as of late. Gotta watch that one.

On the flip side of that, I listen to a LOT of top 40 christian tunes. I started really enjoying it when I started going to my current house of worship. Of course now, I just belt out the tunes to piss my daughter off, but I enjoy singing them anyway.

I love a man who shows he’s not afraid of my independent life and large family, who doesn’t try to “save” me, (unless I’m sick lol), but would do anything to show he’s interested and really cares about me.

My receiving love language is quality time, acts of service and occasionally gifts. My giving love language is quality time, words of affirmation, service and ocassionally gifts.

I plan on traveling to unusual foreign lands someday.

I loathe big crowds and city life; I’m a small town kind of gal and love where I live. a lot.

Some of my most creative works of art come from a place of darkness. While I choose not to spend time there anymore, I do miss the beauty that comes out of it.

I miss the days of simpler times; talking in the phone, friends or neighbors showing up for coffee, no social media, going on leisurely strolls, you know, when you had to actually interact with someone, instead of doing it virtually.

and finally…I don’t care how old I get, I will always laugh at loud farts. Farts are funny, period. (and don’t get me started on the word duty. *snickers*)

What about you. Got any fun facts about yourself you’d like to share?

Random Thoughts

I was going to try to write a blog about each individual, profound (to me), thought I had, but then I decided against it, simply because there are not enough hours in a day, and well half my day is spent at work, the other half taking care of my family. My blog would turn into more of a book that would take probably decades to write. So, I present to you, the most random thoughts floating around inside my empty brain as of late.

• With all the deaths this year of not only our beloved celebrities, (George Michael, ZaZa Gabor, Alan Thicke, David, Bowie, Prince, to name a few), and the seemingly increased violence at home and abroad (between the riots over water, elected presidents, and oil pipelines here in the states, and the devastation in countries like Aleppo), did we ever stop to think that maybe God is trying to tell us something? Maybe we should knock off our stupidity and start focusing on sharing love, compassion, empathy and comfort of those around us, instead of self-gratification.
• Have we given thanks for all our blessings lately? The gift of life, the gift of family, the gift of love. Even things that we take for granted daily, that others don’t have, life food, shelter, clean water, electricity.
• When the children are all grown up, how does a mother know when her job is done?
• Everyone is getting ready to post their resolutions for the new year. I hate to think that people are focusing on things that’ll never keep steady, like the old, “I’m going to lose 50 pounds by Valentines day”,  or “I’m going to eat healthier, work out more, give up some vice that I’ll never really have the patience to really give up for more than a week after I make the resolution”.  I would really like to see people resolving (and sticking to!), to do things more for others; for the homeless, for the hungry, being nicer to their neighbors, regardless of skin colour, race, creed, religious preference, sexual orientation, or economical status. Maybe by treating our neighbors with respect and kindness, our world will be a nicer place to live.
• Lately I’ve been feeling like a total shlub, and while I’m excited to finally have found a workout partner, I am torn between being the “big mama” (big in figure, big in family), and being the totally fit and fabulous person I should be. It’s really frustrating when I work in an environment where the men are constantly smoking, there’s a lot of dust and chemicals in the air, which ultimately makes it difficult for working out because it’s hard to breathe.
• Are we on the brink of a huge war / breakdown of society?
• This time next year, there will be a brand new family member added to our table, in the form of my newest granddaughter! My excitement is out of control!
• A friend of mine played a scratch ticket, and hit $75,000.00.  He spent his cash on vehicles, motorcycles, a new shop. This got me to thinking, what would I do if it was me who won that money? I would pay off my rent for a year, get my divorce, pay off my debt, and use some for a down payment on a house. put some away for my kids / grandkids. But the first thing I would do, is give a portion to my church, for everything they’ve done for me and mine. They say money changes you, but they never say if it’s for the better or worse. My hope is that it would change me for the better.
• How do you know when you’re in love and when it’s true love??
• I miss my SIT who’s off at basic right now. And in 2 days, my oldest soldier goes back to base. I’m glad I have 2 kids that are still near, well one is under 18 and the other has a family he’s dedicated to, in the next town over. Being a mama is hard, but the rewards in the end, are the moments filled with love that are the big payoff.

There is so much more rattling around in there…I may come back later and add an addendum to this post. We will see.

Until next time, darlings!

~Mama

Finding my Boaz…

Are you familiar with the story of Ruth and Boaz? If you’ve never read the story, let me give you a brief synopsis. Basically, Naomi is married, and has two sons. Ruth marries one, and Orpah marries the other. (Yes, her name really was Orpah, and yes Oprah Winfrey was named after her, but chose to spell it differently after it was mistakenly mispelled, it just stuck).  After a great famine, all the men-folk die and left the women widowed. Naomi decides to go to Bethlehem and tells the DILs to stay behind. Ruth convinces Naomi to take her her with her to Bethlehem, but Orpah is convinced that she should not go and heads back to Moab.

So, Naomi and Ruth are without money and Ruth ends up doing some work in the grain fields.  While there, she sees this really well to do guy named Boaz who just happens to be passing by  as she’s “gleaning” the grain fields. (not to be confused with gleaming the cube. haha) There’s a part in there about where Boaz says to leave some grain for Ruth, and be nice to her too.

So, Naomi gets wind of it, and really wants Ruth to marry this guy, manages to convince Ruth to sneak into where he was and lay at his feet while he slept. Ruth, who pledged to do whatever her MIL says to do, goes in and lays at his feet.

Boaz, was really surprised by this, and wants to marry her, but long story short, there’s another person who has first dibs, but this other fella wanted some sort of land that Naomi had, and had little interest in taking Ruth. So, this dude gives up his “claim” on Ruth, and this left Boaz free to marry her. As the story goes, they lived happily ever after, and had a son, who was the grandfather of King David.

Okay, so shoot me if I don’t have all the little details all correct, but that’s basically the jist of the story. Why have  I chosen to write about this story? Because I am currently in a situation where I may have found my potential Boaz.

When I read the story of Ruth and Boaz, I see a lot of compassion, empathy, and hope. Love is the bi-product of these, because in the end, they get married and the rest is history. If it weren’t for Boaz, she may not have been able to get the extra grain, and being a single gal, working the fields, she may have been poorly mistreated. He offered her empathy (God’s divine intervention, perhaps??), even if she wasn’t aware of it just yet.

He ended up being her “kinsman-redeemer”, because early on, when she went to work in the fields, he noticed her. She was hard-working, took care of her MIL when no one else could. Ruth, showed compassion towards her MIL. She didn’t choose to go back to her own mother and father, she stayed with her MIL and supported her. God saw favour in that, and it was said that she would be rewarded.

Basically, what I’m gathering from this story is that, if you are patient, and do the right thing, God will reward you. Her first husband died. She made a promise to take care of her MIL, she worked hard, and stayed faithful to her promise. But with a little divine intervention (as I mentioned earlier), her MIL AND Boaz both ended up helping her with those blessings & rewards of happily ever after.

As I sit here and write this, I think to myself about the events over the past two years. I’ve remained true and faithful to God, I haven’t really dated, and I’ve put my faith first. I’ve grown spiritually, as well as mentally. I am, for all intents and purposes, in a very good place in life, and I’ve become very comfortable in my own skin. (If you know me IRL, you must know that this is a huge victory).

One day last week, purely by chance, my “potential Boaz” appears in the dark of night, to help me with a situation. Since then, I have managed to attract his eye a little more and have, as of yesterday, gotten to know “PB” on a slightly deeper level.

Like Ruth, I am still, at the mercy of another, and it could be an easy or difficult fix. Time will tell. In the end, I believe that 2017 will be the year of great discovery; with the closing of one story, and beginning of writing a new one. I believe that because I took time to reset my life, and refocus on my faith, my family, and what I truly want in life (what has been prepared for me!), is going to be the big payout in the end for me and mine.

At this point in my life, my faith won’t falter, and my prayers will still be said. The good Lord above will continually be the guiding force in my life.

This morning in fact, as I stood in the shower, it all came flowing out of me.  I asked for guidance and wisdom in all things, especially with my “PB”.  I couldn’t even tell you where the words came from, but they sure did come fast and furious, and provided me with a sense of preparedness and calm.

How about you? Have you found your Boaz, or your Ruth? What lessons have you learned from your experience?

Here’s to finding Boaz, and here’s to keeping the faith.

Until next time, darlings….

~Mama

“Act Your Age!”

As a child, how many times did you hear this expression? From my own experience, I heard it countless times, from teachers, my parents, grandparents, and other various, random people I knew. It wasn’t until recently, (like within the last year or so, more frequently in the last month), I have heard this phrase uttered across the lips of my 16 year old daughter’s mouth.

I am constantly being told by my dear daughter, “I’m worried about you”, or “Mom, please act your age, you’re too old to be acting like a child”, and my personal favourite, “Stop it. You’re not two”.

The first time I heard her say this to me, I laughed it off. But recently, one or more of these phrases comes flying out of her mouth, at least once a day. Now, I shouldn’t have to defend myself, but I had to stop and really think about why she keeps saying this to me. This is what I came up with.

I was 16 when I had my first child, 19 when the next came along, 25 and then finally, 30. Prior to that, I was everyone’s babysitter. Church folks, neighborhood families, and my own siblings were watched by me. (I reckon that’s what happens when you’re the oldest child?) Apparently, my brother, who is 13 months younger than I, was helped to be potty trained by yours truly. Yes, at the ripe old age of 4, I was teaching my younger brother how to make Tee Tee on the pot. I guess you could say that I have pretty much been raising babies since I was knee-high to a grasshopper.

I had to be pretty responsible very early on. I didn’t have much time to be a kid, because I was too busy lookin’ out after everyone else’s kids. (Not to say that I never had any kid-time to myself, but I distinctly remember spending a lot of time watching kids when I should have been growing up. And of course, when I would act a fool at a young age, those 3 little words would be spoken. (Act. Your. Age.)

The older I get, the more I realize, that I am really starting to become a goofball. I think it’s probably because I’m not so stressed out about things. I mean, I am stressed out, but not as much as I used to be. I am starting to relax more, and take pleasure in things that are stupidly comical, like bodily functions (I don’t care who you are, farts are funny), ridiculous puns (man who fart in church, sit in own pew), or phrases like, “I’m on duty”. (haha…she said doody). Okay, mayyybe not this much poop humour, but it’s all I can think of right at the moment.

Things like Cartoons make me laugh, or when the ketchup bottle farts, or when I fall on my ass in the ice. I make funny faces on the bathroom mirror when it fogs up. I sing twisted tunes (“walkin’ round in women’s underwear…sung to the tune of walkin’ in a winter wonderland”).

Oh! And Snapchat! Man does that thing have some really funny filters. Have you tried ’em out yet? I mostly keep em to myself, and save ’em so I can laugh later. (the bread filter was really funny!)

When my kids ask me questions, I’ll respond with something that I find to be quite witty, but they don’t see the humour in it. Altho’, my 21 year old has an awesome sense of humour – Yesterday, I was picking pepperoni off my pizza slice, and putting it on his, and I ended up missing the pizza and instead put it directly on the plate. He’s like, “Mom! Watch what you’re doing! I asked for pepperoni pizza, not pepperoni plate!” I laughed a good 5 minutes about that. Totally corny, I know, but I thought it was the bees knees.

I mean, c’mon. Who says that just because you turn 40, you have to put on your big floofy sweater, get out the ole’ cane and rockin’ chair, and talk about the good ole’ days, and wait for your AARP registration to show up in the mail . Hell, you can still do all those things, but really, why would you not want to laugh about it??

Seriously, laughing feels so good. I’ve spent much of my life in tears. Those days are over. Things are a lot more bright an shiny than they used to be. Not everything of course, (believe me when I say, I still have my struggles); these days I see a lot more good in my life, more than I have in a really long time. So why should I act my age?

Life is messy, life is hard. You’re going to have a lot of bumps and bruises along the way, and you’re certainly not gonna make it out alive in the end. You have to find the things that’ll make you smile. I don’t mean your kids, your pets or your family, well I do, but…they’re a given). I mean, find little things that will put those good wrinkles on your face. Watch Carol Burnett, or Benny Hill, or something equally silly. When they do something that’s hilarious, belly laugh! Don’t be shy! Let it out!

I love being silly. It’s a lot of fun. How about you?

Until next time, darlings!

~Mama

Remembering the “Great Purge of 2012”

4 years. That’s how long it’s been since the great purge. I’ve read, and re-read all the posts and blogs I’ve written about this life-changing event, & re-live all the memories, see the pain & stress of worry, and desperation of hoping for a miracle, and continually asking God for a miracle to save us from the hardship we endured. It was quite the harrowing journey for me and my family, but one we managed to survive and grow out from the ashes, a deep-seeded family with a lot of love and courage in our hearts.

As I try not to dwell in the past, and I try to keep everything from flooding back and sending me into a tailspin of hard emotion, I’ve decided to read all the comments from people, who continually showed their support and love for us, as we muddled thru it. 

This year, as I try not to spend so much time mourning the loss our our lives, (our possessions), I will focus as much as possible, on the good that has come from it:

*I’m grateful so many people were there for moral support.
*I feel blessed that so many people aided us in our struggle to get back on our feet.
*I’m thankful made it thru alive.
*I’m happy our situation didn’t break us, but made us stronger.
*I’m elated that it didn’t get worse, but improved over time.
*I’m so glad that all these events brought us to where we are today, because for all intents and purposes, we are all doing quite amazing.

And yes, even in the midst of all of this, I have managed to muster enough strength to forgive all those involved with our demise. I pray for them consistently, that they realize the error of their ways, and find a way to make things right, in their own lives, as to not put another single person thru something that horrific, again. I pray that they learn to be honest, trustworthy, respectable people that learn from that whole experience. I also pray, that not only myself, but my children, learn the warning signs of what it’s like to have a wolf in sheep’s clothing, knocking at the door.

Life throws us curve balls, but I think that’s the way it’s supposed to be, to break us down so we don’t get so hung up on all the superficial things that bombard our brains and make us lose focus of what’s really important.  I think, the only way to really get the most out of it is to go thru struggles, so we can build up our faith and re-center so we find ourselves. It’s up to us to use whatever we have to fight our way thru the darkness, to come thru the other side, with a knowledge and strength, some people will never get to know. It’s up to us, not to give up. It’s our choice to push on, or give in the towel, and let the darkness consume us.

I fully believe that some of us were meant to fight, to be an example of inspiration to others. While I would never wish our experience on others, I hope someone out there, takes my story and uses it to find their own courage within, and realizes, that no matter how dark the journey, there is always a bit of “shine” along the way.

Don’t give up. Your story isn’t over yet. All you have to do is turn the page.

Happy Halloween, my friends. Stay safe. Stay strong.

~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?