Category Archives: Family

Outing and Weird Mommy Moment

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Outing

I had a fun day out with my husband and daughter on Saturday. That was the first time in a long time that I have enjoyed being away from the house for that long. We rambled around doing nothing in particular, just goofing off. It was not my first choice of what I wanted to do, I wanted to be at home working on my blog, catching up on blog reading and writing. However, something dawned on me last week. My husband was feeling like I was ignoring him because I had gone out all day with my mom a couple of Saturdays ago, and while he was out of town this week I went out with my grandmother and daughter. I think he felt that if I could force myself out of the house for those people, then I should be able to force myself out of the house for him. In a way, I think he was correct. Just because I do not want to go somewhere does not mean that I should not. I felt as if I needed to compromise more, but also make it clear that there would be some days that I would not go places. I also needed to set some boundaries up if we were to go places together more often. I prefer only one or two destinations in a day out. Much more than that and I get a little nutty. Also with it being as hot as it is, my feet swell up and quite frankly they hurt pretty bad when they do. I think my compromising today allowed my boundary setting with him to have more impact, because he could see I was willing to compromise on some things. In fact, he got a phone call after we got home from picking up some medications for me, and he had to run out again. Because of my boundary setting he knew that I was done with running around today. So when he left, there was none of the usual him begging me to go with him and etc., he just told me he loved me and would be back in a little bit. Which meant a whole lot less stress for me.

This further emphasizes the error of my ways. I have been demanding that my boundaries be met, without taking into consideration what other people’s needs and wants might be. This is not to say that I should not set boundaries, it just proves to me that I need to be more considerate of other people at the same time I am looking out for myself.

Weird Mommy Moment

This is a picture of my daughter…..


She is a very intelligent, and in my opinion, pretty young lady. It did not dawn on me until this evening that she is at an age that other people might find her attractive as well. Namely….TEENAGE BOYS!!!

We were eating at BoJangles this evening, and some how our order got messed up.  A young man who worked there was asked to bring us the items that were left out of what we had ordered.  He came to our table and would not leave…he stayed there and kept talking to my husband and daughter, especially my daughter.  I realized that he was trying to flirt with her, however, it totally went over my head that she thought he was cute, until after he left our table….finally.  I said something to my daughter like “That boy is weird”.  She got all red in the face and said she thought he was pretty funny.  It is hard for me to picture my daughter who I still think of like this…


as being old enough to think boys are cute. I have made the decision to buy myself a rather powerful cattle prod so I can use it on any boy that attempts to even look at her when I am around. That should take care of anyone wanting to date her until I am mature enough to deal with it.

My Daughter's Inheritance

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When I think of the word inheritance several things come to my mind, money, property. a house, and personal items.  Sometimes I think about a bumper sticker I occasionally see on cars around here,  it says, “I am spending my children’s inheritance”.  In other words, what I usually think of when it comes to the word inheritance is material things.  Tangible items that can be owned, sold or fought over.

Today, I started thinking about the intangible things that our children inherit from us.  Body type, personality traits, facial features, and diseases, are just a few of these.   Obviously some of the intangible things that they can inherit are more desirable than others. Big, beautiful eye lashes (which my brother got) are more desirable than ending up with a replica of the big, hairy mole that mom has on her nose.  There is a benefit to this type of inheritance, most likely no one will fight over who gets what, like they would over who gets dad’s toenail collection.

Unless I win the lottery, my daughter will probably not inherit much in the way of material things from me.  She will get a few, very special, sentimental items, but nothing of any real value.   As far as her intangible inheritance goes, she has already received a sizable portion of it.  I wish I could say all of what she has inherited is good, but that is simply not true.  She is stuck with a gene pool she partially inherited from me, as well as personality and behavioral traits she received from the examples I displayed in front of her.

Some of what she has inherited is being at a higher risk for developing diabetes, heart disease, cancer, and restless leg syndrome.  She even has a higher chance of developing depression.  She already exhibits symptoms of the anxiety I modeled in front of her (starting when she was very young), causing her to be painfully shy at times. Her inheritance also includes migraines, skin that is easy to sunburn, and a gift for sarcasm.

She inherited my love for books, staying up late, reading with a flash light just like I used to do.  She got her beautiful, red, curly hair from both sides of her family.  Her annoying stubbornness definitely came from her father, there is no doubt in my mind where her intelligence comes from.  Her ability to roll her eyes around in her head when she is annoyed seems to be an inherited trait that the women on my side of the family all seem to possess.

Her inheritance has included a good sense of humor, a caring nature, and a love of animals. She has my nose and her father’s chin, and has received some tall gene, because at thirteen she is almost taller than me.

The things I would like her to inherit in the future are a strong sense of self worth, the ability to be open about her feelings, the strength to never give up and the knowledge of how much she is loved.

What is your child/ren’s inheritance?

Grandbaby And A Brag

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Guess What? I found out last week that I am going to be a grandmother. My son and his wife are expecting a baby. Right now the tentative due date is near the beginning of January. I suppose most women would be rather excited by the news. I want to be excited, part of me sort of is. However, I am not nearly as excited as I thought I would be when I received this news. My son still barely speaks to me, and he has already had some huge problems in his marriage (he and his wife have only been married since December). His wife is making an earnest effort to keep me up-to-date on what is going on with him and her, but I get the feeling that he does not really care if I know or not.

I love my son but I really dislike his behavior over the last few years. He has not treated his family very well. By family I refer to me, his sister, his Father (the man who raised him and loved him and adopted him), his grandmother and grandfather, great-grandmother, and Uncle and Aunt. It is as if he does not want to have anything to do with any of us anymore. From what I understand, this has become a bone of contention in his marriage. His wife very much believes family should stick with family at all times, and she is upset and perplexed by his behavior. I guess I am perplexed by his behavior. At one time I would have been upset, but I am long past allowing him to upset me.

In other news….

I have a niece who has had some trouble in the past.  As a result she is currently on probation.  The other day I had a chance to speak with her mother and she told me that the judge who had heard her daughter’s case said “You better be prepared to kick her out when she is 18 because she is going to be in and out of jail for the rest of her life.” Rightfully so, her mother was upset by what the judge said.  To me it was as if the judge was saying that this child 1. did not deserve a second chance, and 2. that she was incapable of turning her life around.

From what I understand, as part of her probation, she has to graduate, do some, in my opinion, very cool community service work, and deal with a juvenile probation officer.  Some of her community service has included working in an animal shelter run by a local not-for-profit animal rescue group, working in the office of one of the local churches, and I think even working in the office of one of the local court houses.  All of which she said she enjoyed.  Besides that, I think those community service projects were so much more educational and positive than having her pick up garbage on the side of the road.

Graduating from high school turned out to be more difficult than one would have thought.  Not because the young lady was not doing her work, but because the teacher’s, for the most part, stuck her in the back of the classroom and and basically gave her NO assignments.  Her mother went to the school principle about this and what he told the mother is that the teachers have decided that my niece had been labeled as a trouble maker and they did not see any point in giving her work they figured she would not do anyway.  After speaking about this to the juvenile probation officer, and the local school superintendent’s office, her mother placed her in a local alternative school.  She attends night classes there.

Her mother went on to tell me that not only is her daughter passing, her grades are in the A’s and B’s! Her probation officer is impressed with her turn around and the judge has been taken by surprise.  This child obviously needed the type of intervention she got from the state, probation and the probation officer, however, what really makes me angry is that other people who should have and could have helped her as well just flat out gave up on her.  What she needed has been the individual help she had gotten from the probation officer, the alternative school, and the positive role models she has had to to do her community service for.

I am very proud of her, she seems to be a happier kid, who has made a huge turn around in her life.  Not many people would have put the effort that she has put in to do things differently.  My hope and prayer for her is that she continues make good and positive decisions and actions about her life.

Bully In The Family

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My husband has a nephew who is one day older than Anna. It is unfortunate, but at thirteen this young man is a bully. Due to bad parenting, adults in his life not willing to set limits, and witnessing a very nasty divorce between his parents he has been “taught” that his behavior is acceptable in his family. In fact, his mother has been a bully of sorts since I have known her.

I realize as a child, especially when he was younger and more impressionable, that he is a victim of what his parents and the other adults in his life have taught him by their actions. When he was younger and acted out violently, I was usually the first to defend him to my husband and children. I believed and still do, that the example set by his parents, and other adults, and the things he must have witnessed during his parents divorce has left him with some serious mental health and emotional issues.

Over the years it has become very evident that his violence is escalating and I am finding it harder and harder to feel sorry for him and defend him. Especially, when his bullying behavior is directed at my daughter, his own cousin. To be more truthful, part of me feels incredibly sad for this young man. He has to be hurting so much. The other part of me feels incredibly angry that he would bully Anna, physically and verbally. Right now, the angry part is in charge, more out of protecting my daughter from him then anything else.

Recently, he….

I find it interesting how my writing challenges me to examine myself. I must confess when I sat down to write this post, the angry part of me was in charge. I was going to “show” you some recent, not nice messages he sent to Anna. However, I have decided not to. I now believe that posting those messages would not be helpful and could possibly be harmful.

I think it began to dawn on me, that posting those messages would have been wrong when I referred to him as a victim. He is a victim, who has turned into a bully as a way to protect himself from the things that go on in his world. Maybe on some level his mother realizes this and also sees how she had a hand in what has happened to this young man. That could explain why she refuses to discuss some of his behavior towards Anna with us.

I will no longer allow him to have any contact with Anna, because of his bullying behavior. It is not healthy for her. However, I am no longer angry. I will be praying that someone or something intervenes in this young man’s life before he hurts someone worse than he already has, or ends up in jail.

Shameless Plug

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My daughter-in-law just took up blogging. She started it for much the same reason I started blogging. Using it as a journal of sorts. She also has had some struggles with depression and suicidal thoughts. I would take it as a personal favor if ya’ll took the time to visit her site. I am very proud of her. Keeping a public journal is not always easy, and she is being very brave by doing so.

Here is the link to her site Krystal Mashburn

The Mom Who Eats Worms

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Most people have at least one irrational fear. Spiders, snakes and dogs seem to be fairly common fears. Gayle at Monkey With Glasses has a fear of getting lost. As for me, I have an irrational fear of earthworms.

I always thought that my fear of worms was just a personal quirk of mine. After all, it does seem a little silly to be afraid of an earthworm. They are harmless creatures that help our gardens grow, and are really helpful in a composter. Yet, I am terrified of them. I felt alone, living in a world full of earthworm loving people.

I am not sure why I did it, but the other day I went to my favorite search engine and put in the words “fear of earthworms”. Guess what I found? There is an actual name for it…Scoleciphobia. I am so excited to know that there are tons of people who are afraid of earthworms. I am not the only person who has an irrational fear of these harmless creatures. I am not alone in my weirdness!

Over the years, I have put on a brave front when it came to my fear of earthworms. Especially in front of my children. I did not want them to know their mother was afraid of worms. As impressionable as young children are, I did not want to take a chance of passing my fear on to them. Also, let’s face it, they are my children. If they had found out, they would have thrown worms on me.

The lengths I would go to in order to keep my earthworm fear a secret surprises me at times. One incident in particular sticks out in my mind.

My son and I had moved into a small house. For us, it was a welcomed move after living in apartments in not so safe neighborhoods for a few years. Even though we were renting, I decided to plant some flowers in front of the house. My son was out there with me as I was digging holes for the plants. While I was digging, he and I discovered an earthworm. My plan was to ignore it and the hole until it went away. My son had a different plan.

His plan was to pick the earthworm up and show it to me. He really wanted me to examine it. I really wanted to run away screaming. Instead, what I ended up doing would come back to haunt me. I told my son that I wanted him to put the worm back on the ground so it would not die. The reason I gave him was that it needed to get bigger. It needed to be much fatter before I could eat it. You read that right, I told him that I ate worms just to make him get the worm away from me.

Not very long after this, my son traveled to China, where my parents were living, with one of my mother’s friends and her grandson. My mother was very good about sending me pictures and videos of my son so I could see what he was doing there.

On one particular video tape you can tell that it had rained recently. My son and the boy he traveled to China with were jumping in puddles and talking. They both stop to examine something that they saw on the ground. It turns out to be a rather large earthworm. After the boys examined the earthworm for a minute or two I hear my son say, “Don’t kill it. My mom eats worms!”

Just when I thought he had forgotten all about that, it showed up right there on the video tape. There is no telling how many people have watched that video over the years. I am sure at least a few of them are referring to me as “The Mom Who Eats Worms”

They Were Thirsty…

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My darling daughter has always been one of those kids who could be funny without even trying. Even as a toddler she could reduce me to laughter when I probably should have been disciplining her. The logic she exhibited as a toddler was as amazing as it was funny.

When my daughter was very young, my family used to foster dogs for an animal rescue group in our county. Along with our dogs, we usually had one or two others we were trying to get ready for new families. The kids were great at helping take care of the dogs we were fostering, each doing what they could based on their ages.

One Spring, I got a phone call from an older woman who said that she believed three puppies had been dumped at a house right across the road from her. No one was living in the house, so she was very concerned about the well being of these puppies. She figured that they were about eight weeks old. The kids and I made plans to drive over there and pick them up.

Of course, the kids were excited about the prospect of having puppies in the house. I was too. We located the puppies and brought them home. After we got the home, we figured that they were not eight weeks old, but closer to five or six weeks old. Too young to be put outside with the other foster dogs. We made a little bed in the corner of the kitchen and kept a careful eye on them.

One afternoon, my daughter was playing with the puppies. I walked out of the room for a few minutes, not very long at all. When I re-entered the kitchen a surprise was waiting for me. All three puppies were on the kitchen table and a very large glass of water was tipped over.

As much as I love dogs, I really do not think they belong on tables. I was a little irritated that my daughter had put them up there and now I was going to have to clean up the mess they made. I asked her what she had been thinking when she had done it.

Without hesitation she gave me her answer, “They were thirsty and there was a glass of water on the table”

Any irritation I had instantly flew out the window. How could I argue with that logic? Of course, the fact that I was holding back laughter at her answer also made it difficult for me to continue to be irritated with her.

Even now as a thirteen year old, my daughter is just as quick witted as she had been when she was a toddler. I still find myself holding back laughter. I am proud of her quick wit and ability to be funny at the most serious of times. I believe that both of those qualities will benefit her as she grows older.

All About The Good Stuff

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A couple of really cool, good things happened this week. I like it when good things happen. They act as a positive touch stone for me. I can look back at them on the not so good days and boost my mood if I need to.

Last week I entered a writing contest. I posted my entry
One Child’s Inspiration here so ya’ll could have a chance to look over it as well. I received news today, that I came in first for that writing contest. I am pretty excited by that.

You may notice a change here in there with my writing style, I am going to be experimenting with different ways to write so I can be a more well rounded author.

Have you ever gotten a phone call that made your day, week, month or even your year? One of those phone calls where the person on the other end said the exact thing that you needed to hear? Recently, I received one, and it took me by surprise.

My mother called last week. She started off the conversation with something along the lines of “She needed/wanted to talk to me about something”. For the first time in months, my stomach tightened up and I figured she was upset with me about something. I started to try and prepare myself for whatever was going to come next. Imagine my surprise, when instead of her being upset with me about something, she tells me she is calling because she wants to share with me how much she enjoys my company and considers me her friend. Since I had been gearing up for a completely different conversation, I was totally taken off guard by what she said. I was sort of at a loss for words.

It really is a wonderful feeling to know that my mother enjoys hanging out with me. I know I enjoy hanging out with her. We can talk about so many things now, not just the same old stuff we used to.

You Will Not Die!

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There was no hint that anything unusual was going to happen. It was another very ordinary morning in a long line of ordinary mornings. Coffee was made, breakfast was eaten, and as usual Anna was sneaking herself some coffee. There was not much conversation, mostly Anna and I speaking in grunts. Neither of us care for mornings very much.

Once we progressed past the grunting stage of our morning, a real conversation could start.

“Mom!”

“Yes, Anna.”

“Mom, Mom!”

“Yes, Anna. What do you need?”

“Nothing. Hey Mom! Guess What?

“No”

“Please Mom. I’m not going to do it”

“Okay. What?”

‘Chicken Butt!!!”

She did it.

After our morning conversation, I go back to grunting, and Anna heads for the shower. A very long shower. I have resigned myself to the fact that it is in the genetic make up of a thirteen year old girl to take very long showers. However, this gives me twenty minutes of quiet time every morning. I either use this quiet time to write or to cat nap, sometimes both. This particular morning I was doing both. I started writing, and would doze off now and then, with my hands still on the keyboard. When I would wake up, I could see a line of L’s on my screen. I was so absorbed in my dozing off and writing that I did not notice that the shower had been turned off.

The next thing I am aware of is Anna screaming and running out of the bathroom. She was on the verge of hysterics. Initially, all that can be understood of what she is saying is the word stung. Eventually, in between screams, she manages to say that she has been stung, on her foot, by a scorpion. Knowing that her only exposure to scorpions is from TV, I had an idea of what was going through her mind.

“Anna! You will not die!”

The screaming stopped.

After sitting on the couch with an ice pack on her foot, Anna becomes convinced that the stinger from the scorpion is still in her foot and starts to become upset all over again. Afraid that there might be more screaming , I quickly explain to her that scorpions do not lose their stingers like bees do. Which meant that there is “no way that there is a stinger in her foot“. She calms down a little more. At this point she demands that I smush the scorpion.

After grabbing one of my husband’s boots, Anna and I head to the bathroom. That is when she reveals that she is not sure where the scorpion is. The scorpion’s stinger had been stuck in her foot, with the scorpion dangling from it, when she saw that she shook her foot and the scorpion went flying. After some searching we located the scorpion and I smushed it.

While I am smushing the scorpion, I cannot help but to remember when my brother gave Anna a lollipop with a scorpion inside it. Which leads to me to wonder how easy it would be to put the scorpion in a Popsicle and freak Anna out with it.

Once the scorpion has been dispatched, Anna settles back down on the couch with the ice pack on her foot again. She sits there quietly for quite some time. Most likely she was in some form of shock after her traumatic morning. As the pain leaves her foot, she starts acting like her normal self again.

Well, almost normal. Now when she walks barefoot through the house, you can see her examining the floor, the corners of rooms, and walking on her tip toes.

A quote from my brother after hearing about the incident…

“Yeah everybody warns us about snakes and bees but no one talks about scorpions.”

My Writing Journey

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This blog post is dedicated to my biggest fan.  Without her I would not be writing. I love you bunches!

I have always liked the idea of keeping a journal, but I have never been the type of person to keep one. I tried. I would always start off with the best of intentions, I would keep up with writing in it every day for a few weeks, then I would only write in it once every couple of weeks. I would progress to only writing in it once a month or so, finally I would just quit writing in it all together. Eventually, I would even forget that I had a journal.

There are times that I wish I had managed to keep up with my journaling. It would have been a great way to preserve my thoughts and feelings about a particular event in my life. I also seem to have a memory problem. There are a great many events in my past that I just do not have much or any memory of. A journal would have been a good memory aid.

There were many reasons I could not keep up with my journaling. I found it boring and tedious. I never liked what I wrote, and I never thought that I was a very good writer. I did not think it was worth the effort that I would have to put into it.

In September of 2009, my attitude about writing changed. The previous six months had been some of the hardest in my life. I had attempted suicide, started therapy for my depression, had been on several anti-depressants that had failed to work, and I had been hospitalized for a brief period of time in a state run psychiatric hospital. During this time period I became aware that I basically had two emotional states, extreme anger or extreme lack of emotion. When I was experiencing extreme anger, I behaved and said things that were horrible. I knew what I was doing, but I was unable to stop it. I began to believe that if I could write down my thoughts and feelings, that I would have more control over my emotional state.

Given my history with journaling, I knew the chances of me keeping up with my writing would be slim to none if I did not change my approach to it. I decided what I needed was some accountability. A real life person who would notice if I did not write anything for a few days. Not wanting to place yet another burden on my family, I decided to start blogging.

My approach to what I blogged about was the same approach I applied to my therapy sessions. Only the truth would do. The idea of being so honest in my writing did not seem that big of a deal. It was not until I sat down for the first time to write a blog post that I realized that writing the truth about me was going to be difficult. I would be showing myself in a less than positive light, and some of the subject matter that I wanted to write about would be emotionally painful.

Writing honestly on a blog seemed to work, for a while at least. I was able to express my out of control emotions in a constructive way. Between my writing and my therapy, I become a much calmer, less angry and anxious person. However, that type of emotional writing was very exhausting for me, especially since that was the only type of writing I was doing.

Around the end of November of 2009, I put writing in the blog aside for a while. I needed a break, some time to rethink how I approached my writing so that it would not be so exhausting for me. It was also around this time that my asthma began to bother me again. My inability to draw in a proper breath of air was also adding to my exhaustion. It took two months and a week long stay in a hospital for me to get back to my writing.

After so long away from writing, I lacked the motivation to begin again. Day after day went by and I never even attempted to put anything on paper. I figured that no one even noticed that I was not updating the blog, and the more time that passed the less important it seemed to me. I was wrong. The person who voiced their disappointment about the fact that I was not writing took me by complete surprise. It was my thirteen year old daughter.

At that time, I had been unaware that my daughter was reading what I had been writing. It was not until she came to me one day and said, “Mom, it has been a long time since you wrote anything. When are you going to write again?” that I realized she had been paying close attention to everything thing I had written, and for whatever reason she was enjoying it. However, I still did not do any writing. She came to me with that same question every day. I always answered it the same way, “Soon.”. This scenario was repeated many times over the next two weeks. Finally, I gave in. It was easier to give into her, than to have to listen to her ask that question one more time.

My approach to writing on the blog was different this time. I still did the emotional, truth filled blog posts that I had always done, however, this time I also did some silly, fun filled posts. It was a more balanced approach. I found that I really enjoyed writing, even when the topic I was writing about was emotionally difficult.

At this time, I cannot put into words how much writing has come to mean to me. It has come to be a part of who I am. I have found myself dreaming about how far I might be able to go with it, and have taken proactive steps to improve my writing skills. I enjoy the opportunity that it has given me as a way to bond with my daughter. By far though, the one thing I like the best about it is that my daughter is my biggest fan.