No Shot Glasses

My children have always done a pretty darn good job of keeping me humble and embarrassing me. Children have a way of doing that and my two little people are no different.

On Saturday we went grocery shopping and it was crazy busy. As we were shopping, little man say’s to me, quite loudly, “Mommy, are you getting thirsty for a beer?” WTF?

The people in front of us turned around and looked at me for my answer. I like beer and really like it on a nice hot day in the summer but it’s winter right now so seldom drink it. Quite honestly I am not a big drinker and if I do, it’s after he and little lady go to bed. I answered him with a simple “no” because I knew that no matter what I said, it would make him keep talking about it. And may I add that little lady repeats everything he says. May I also add that while we don't hide that we drink, we don't make an issue of it, nor do we party in front of them.

Then we go down another isle, and little man asks me quite loudly, “Are we going to the liquor store to pick up beer? What direction is the liquor store? Can I go in the liquor store with you? WTF? Little lady of course echo’s her brother so she of course had to scream, “I want to go to the liquor store too!” Dear lord.

This time, all the people down the isle turned and looked
at me or I should say stared at me. Some had smirks. Some looked disapproving. I am sure I looked like no mother of the year. He has never been in a liquor store and I am just not getting his fascination with beer or the liquor store.

So I did what I usually do when he says such ridiculous things to me, I ignored him. I ignore both of them and they stopped.

We checked out and as we walked by the eye glass center, little man says quite loudly and in front of the eye doctor and another worker, “They have glasses. They have sun glasses. But no shot glasses.” WTF? These women’s heads whipped around to stare at me in my embarrassment. I put my hand over his mouth and got them out of there. Dear lord I am too old for this. Dear lord I looked like one of those parents. I'm not...really I'm not.

Just so you know, I asked him what a shot glass was and he didn’t have a clue.

Idiosyncrasy's?

Each of us have quirks or idiosyncrasy’s… those habits, mannerism’s or characteristics that define our individuality. It’s these things that make us unique from one another. Instead of being cookie cutter copies of one another we have these little(okay sometimes big) quirks that make me, me and you, you.

I happen to like quirks. I enjoy the idiosyncrasy’s of other’s. They make me smile and sometimes laugh. It’s these idiosyncrasy’s or quirks that make the world go around…makes life interesting. Yes, these quirks can drive me crazy and yes they can get annoying, but nonetheless we all have them. Yes, you. And you. And me of course. And since we all have them, we may as well enjoy them or at least accept them…our own and other people’s.

Life would get pretty boring if we were all the same…all copies of one another. It’s the idiosyncrasy’s that make each person stand out from the rest and expresses who they are. For me, perfection lies in the idiosyncrasy’s of my loved ones…it’s what makes my husband perfect to me…it’s these things that other’s might call flaws, that I love about him.

I am sure that I have many more quirks than I realize. I am sure if I were to ask my loved ones, that have been around me for a long time, they could give me an ear full. I am sure I have done a pretty good job of driving people crazy with my idiosyncrasy’s and I’m even more certain that I have entertained these same people with some of my quirks.

I was thinking it would be more fun to write about the quirks of those in my family, then to write about mine but then I thought they might not like that, so I better stick to writing about my own.

Are you ready? Here they are…

*I am kind of obsessive when it comes to working out. If I can’t exercise for at least an hour I won’t do it. If I get interrupted during my exercise time, I have to start all over again. And if there is not enough time to start all over again, then I just stop. If I am in exercise “mode”, it’s all I think about and all I want to do.

*I walk really, really fast. All of the time…even when I don’t need to or shouldn’t. I just walk fast and don’t even think about it. I walk like I have ants in my pants or like the house is on fire. I find myself getting very annoyed with slow walkers or people that get in my way. This drives my husband and children CRAZY. We will be some place, like the mall, and I’ll realize that I am walking by myself and I’ll stop and turn around and my husband will be way back, just standing there, waiting to see how long it will take me to notice that he’s not walking with me. You should see how fast I can walk when I am actually trying to walk fast for exercise. Let's just say my husband cannot keep up with me.

*Laughing. I talked about this in a post not long ago and just so you know I am still doing it. While I am happy to say that I have laughed at no funerals lately, I continue to laugh at things and times, when I shouldn’t be.

*I get stuck on certain words and then use that word all of the time. For example, recently, I use the word “ridiculous” a lot. I am not sure if it’s because then the little people say it too and it sounds so darn funny and cute when they say it. I will catch myself saying it all the time until I pick up a new word.

*Last, is my need for hot black coffee right away in the morning. I am not a morning person. I need coffee and quiet at the beginning of my day…please, please, please do NOT talk to me in the first half hour that I am awake. This is hard with little people that wake up early and have a hundred things to say to me, but let’s just say I’ve been training them to cooperate with my morning program.

Do you have any quirks you want to share? I would love to hear about them!

This post was part of Jen’s Spin Cycle topic on Quirks at Sprite’s Keeper. To read more go here!

If you know me at all, then you know how much I LOVE spending time with family. You also know that it's hard for me to have most of them living far away. You also know that it's hard for me to let go. Getting this unplanned visit from my eldest granddaughter,due to her other grandma dying, was special for me. I was there when she was born and we have had a special unique bond ever since. She announced to me during this visit that her and I would always be close because our hearts are connected. She is the sweetest girl ever.

She is almost 10 and in the 4th grade...it will not be long and she will be bigger than me. Our visit was spent sharing tears, laughter, playing, lots of cuddling and talking. These moments with her are priceless. I wanted to hug her and never let her go.

When she was little, we started a tradition, whenever we said good-bye, of kissing each others hands and putting those kisses in our pockets so that we each always had the other's kisses to pull out when we need them. That is the last thing we did before parting on Sunday. I've used her kisses many times already.

She loves spending time with the little people and they of course adore her. I think little lady worships her actually. They wanted her to stay.

We did girl things, like make avocado face masks. She fixed my hair.(Sorry, no picture!) We playing the music real loud and danced. We went shopping and out for supper and she loved that everyone thought she was my daughter. We talked about death and heaven...and about cute boys and mean girls...about dreams and fears...we talked about all the things she wants to be when she grows up...we talked and we talked...

Now that she is gone back to Florida to much warmer weather, I miss her with all of my heart.

Tomorrow, I will drive to the airport and pick up these two...

My youngest daughter and her son, who will be 2 years old next week, are flying in from Florida, and will be here until Monday. I can hardly wait to hug them. If you don't see me around your place or mine, for the next few days, you know what I will be doing!

Star Light, Star Bright

Star light, star bright,
the first star I see tonight.
I wish I may,
I wish I might,
have the wish, I wish tonight.

I remember saying this poem when I was little and wanting to believe so badly that my wishes could come true. That somehow the magic of these words would make it so.

After saying this poem the other night with the little people and talking about what it means to wish…which of course led to naming wishes we each had…lots of silly wishes and the kinds of wishes that little ones wish for…like, “I wish the moon was purple.” “I wish that we never had to go to bed.”(obviously, it was not me that made that wish) “I wish I could have candy right now.” “I wish I could walk on the ceiling.” “I wish the snow would disappear.”(If you guessed this was mine, then you guessed right.)

I remember my grandma saying to me, “Be careful of what you wish for because you may get something you really don’t want.“

I think about all the things I have wished for during my life time and I’m happy to say that some of my wishes do come true. Like my wish for my own prince and now here I am married to him. I wished for healthy children and I have them.

I also remember making wishes while pulling on wishbones and blowing out birthday candles. I remember how we couldn’t share our wishes because if we did, then they wouldn’t come true. Very seldom could I keep my wishes to myself.

Some things I wish for today(some things never change)…

I wish that my children and grandchildren didn’t live so far away. Or that I had the time and money to travel to see them frequently. I wish that I could hug each one of them right now.

I wish that my worker compensation case would be resolved so that I can move on from this phase of my life. Thus giving me the opportunity to seek out treatments to help with the pain. Better yet, I wish for a life with no pain.

I wish that my step daughter would get the help she needs, get her life together and be a part of our family again.

I wish that my friend would get some relief from her pain and physical ailments. That she would have financial freedom and be able to do the things her heart desires.

I wish that my husband and I could go away on a long vacation, just the two of us, to a place warm. I don’t even care where it is.

I think of each of you and the wishes I have for you…a wish of good health and healing for you and your loved ones.

…a wish of comfort and peace for those of you experiencing deep sorrow over the loss of loved ones.

…a wish of relief, hope and healing for those who are experiencing pain physically or emotionally.

…a wish of strength, hope and renewal for those of you that have children with health problems or learning challenges.

…a wish for employment, job security and financial stability for those of you that are without jobs or struggling because of the economy.

…a wish for healing and restoration for those of you experiencing difficult relationships or marriages.

…a wish for success for those of you that have books being published and new exciting endeavors that you are embarking on.

…a wish for much patience, endurance and wisdom for all of you that are teachers.

…a wish for forgiveness and grace for those of you that are bound with guilt and unforgiveness over wrongs committed by yourself or someone else, so that you may be free.

…a wish for resiliency, protection, hope and freedom for those of you that are up against people or situations that are overwhelming and seek to destroy you.

I wish that each one of you will know your worth and value and the gift you bring to this world. I wish for you each to be happy, loved and fulfilled in this life. I wish that each of you could know how much you have come to mean to me. I sincerely wish for all these things and more.

When you wish upon a star

Makes no difference who you are

Anything your heart desires

Will come to you

If your heart is in your dreams

No request is to extreme

When you wish upon a star

As dreamers do
　
What do you wish for?

When We Think Of You

When I seen that this weeks Spin Cycle at Sprite's Keeper, was on creative writing, I was excited and all prepared to write a story but life has brought many interruptions since my friend passed away. My eldest granddaughter is here from Florida, until Sunday, so I have been spending as much time as possible with her. In helping her to grieve the loss of her other grandma and at the same time, find joy in remembering all the wonderful things about her, I thought I would have her write a poem with me, for this weeks creative writing spin. We dedicate this post to her.

This is for you grandma. I love you and this is good-bye for now.

Grandma, When We Think Of You

When we think of you, we think of the many things…
…that made our hearts sing.

When we think of you, we think of the beauty of your heart…
…and your mind that was so very smart.

When we think of you, we think of your strength and how much you fought…
…and how you were the one that other people sought.

When we think of you, we think of how you never gave in…
…and stopped living your life so this illness could win.

When we think of you, we think of how you never said an unkind word…
…your words of love we always heard.

When we think of you, we think of all the support you gave…
…so that other’s could be brave.

When we think of you, we think of the sound of your voice and the smile on your face…
…the memory of these, time will not erase.

When we think of you, we think of your hug and kiss…
…they are something we will always miss.

When we think of you, we are thankful that the pain has past…
…because you are with Jesus and free at last.

Two of my favorite people

For more spin's go here.

I Will See You Later

Last week, someone near and dear to my heart passed away. She was my eldest granddaughter’s(she’s almost 10) other grandma. We’ve had a special bond over the past 11 years. She was a most beautiful soul, that had a beautiful deep faith in God and loved Jesus with all of her heart.

Even though she hasn’t been well for the past year, she had been doing better recently and we thought that there would be time for our oldest granddaughter and her youngest son, to come home, from Florida, for a last visit. This was her wish but her time ran out.

My granddaughter and her father flew in on Saturday and while it is wonderful to see my granddaughter, it is not wonderful to have it be under these circumstances. It is not wonderful that someone had to die to bring them home. But, it seems like this happens. We get so caught up in living life and meeting our commitments that sometimes those things we should do or people we want to spend time with, get put off…and sometimes we run out of time.

In the big picture, I know that she is in a much better place. She is no longer in pain or suffering. She is no longer confined to a wheel chair. She is now free of this body that failed her.

While I am thankful for all of this, I am still sad. It is hard to see my granddaughters sadness and that of her husband and the rest of her family. I feel for my daughter, who could not come home for the funeral today and grieves the loss of this woman who treated her like a daughter. She adored my daughter and that did not stop when my daughter was no longer married to her son. I have treated my former son-in-law in the same manner. As the father of my granddaughter, I will always love him and have a relationship with him.

I think about this woman and all that she taught me with how she lived her life…with how she loved…with how she forgave…with how she believed.
As always, when someone we love dies, our perspectives change. In these moments, we are forced to stop and face our own morality. Things that we thought were important cease to be. Things that we thought were meaningless, show their significance.

Death pulls us to hug our loved ones a little bit tighter. Death forces us to see that we don’t know when our time on this earth will run out. Death causes us to let go of the trivial and to embrace the importance of people. Death reminds me that I might have unfinished business in my life and that it would be of my benefit and the benefit of others, to take care of these matters.

Today, as attend her funeral, I picture her climbing the stairway to heaven.
I picture her looking down proudly, at all she has left behind and saying "I did good." I picture her running through fields of flowers. I picture her beautiful smile and her laughter. I picture her singing and clapping her hands. I picture her dancing before Jesus. I picture her free.

Here's to you my beautiful friend...this is not a good bye but an "I will see you later."...until we meet again...I love you.

The Ugliness of Racism

Last week, while at the check out, little man, said “hello” over and over again to the woman that was checking us out and she ignored him. Little lady said “hello” and immediately the woman said “hello” back and smiled at her and then commented to me about how cute she is. Little man was standing right next to his sister and this woman refused to acknowledge him. As little man tried to get her attention once again, I tried to distract him while we finished checking out. I know damn well, that this woman has a problem with him being dark skinned and I wanted to protect him from knowing this.

I knew that she had a problem with me too, because she treated me in much the same way. His sister is very fair skinned with very blond hair. People assume I am their mother and see I have two children that obviously have 2 different fathers and they come to their own conclusions about me. This is not the first time this has happened and I know it will not be the last.

When we are out and about, little lady will be given attention by others and often times little man will not, unless he is relentless in his attempts for their attention and then sometimes it will be given reluctantly. There have been comments said just loud enough for me to hear, by other shoppers. I pretend not to hear these things that go over his head but not mine. There was one time that little man took it a step further and said to the person, “What about me? I’m talking to you too.” And the person just looked at him and walked away.

Racism is alive here in rural Minnesota and it is ugly. Little man is clueless of it at 3 ½ and although I could see the hurt in his eyes as this man walked away, he had no clue to why he was rejected. He see’s his sister being accepted and he has no clue it’s because she is white.

I don’t understand any of this. No matter how hard I try to understand meanness I can’t. I don’t get it. I don’t understand hating someone for things that have nothing to do with the person they are on the inside. I can not comprehend being mean or mistreating people period, let alone, for something that is not in their control. I cannot fathom judging someone based on the color of their skin, let alone their religion, beliefs, sexual preferences or orientation or what they look like.

When I was dating and almost married a black man, many of this family, were racist against me for being white. They judged me for the color of my skin. Some of them didn’t even want to get to know me…didn’t want to even give me a chance…all because the color of my skin was white. I remember how much this hurt me.

When I went through drug treatment in the mid 80’s, I met many wonderful people there. Drug addiction and alcoholism shows no preferences when it comes to skin color, religion or beliefs, social or economic status, sexual preference, age, body size or physical appearance. Every color of skin was represented. There were those with a lot of money, those with none and many in-between. The very beautiful to the average looking people. Obese, average in size and anorexic thin. There were those that were hetero sexual, lesbian and gay. Young, elderly and many in-between. Homeless, to housewives, to professional hockey player, to a man in the mafia, to college students, to professional gamblers, to doctors, policemen and lawyers. Catholics, Muslims, atheists, born again Christians to Buddhists.

All people trying to get their lives cleaned up…all trying to find hope…all trying to find sanity in their insane addictions…all at rock bottom(or close to it since some had not reached their rock bottom yet). Each one of us, different human beings, with one thing in common. Addiction. There were many that came to treatment with their prejudices against various groups of people but the beauty of being in rock bottom is that when your with a group of people that are in the same place as you, you unite.

Walls of racism were torn down. People with ugly hate inside for people outside of their “group“, laid down their ignorance and fear and embraced those people they previously hated. I watched as a gay man and a man that claimed to hate gays hug as they worked through something they both struggled with and become good friends. I watched a very obese woman sob and a man that had admitted to being prejudice against heavy people, hold her while she cried. I watched a great friendship evolve between them. These are just a couple of examples of many, that I witnessed the beauty of walls coming down. It was a beautiful thing seeing hate and meanness broken down and ripped away. It was like the blinders came off their eyes and hearts so that they could see people for who they really were.

As much as I hate racism, I realize that I do discriminate. I discriminate against those who abuse children, the elderly, those with disabilities or anyone for that matter. I am against people who bully or inflict their meanness on others. I am against evil of any kind…against those that inflict pain or judgment against a person or group of people because of the color of their skin, their religion, their sexual preference, their size or appearance, their intelligence, their financial or social status. I am against those that knowingly exploit, take advantage of and profit from those that are weak and vulnerable, such as children, the elderly and the disabled. I discriminate against racism and those that support it. I discriminate against those that deal drugs, rape or abuse women and children and intentionally kill. I discriminate against the words nigger, fag, retard, Jesus freak, fat pig…ect. Any words that are meant to put down or inflict pain upon. These words make me cringe with their ugliness and their intention to put down.

I am trying to understand where this meanness, ignorance and fear comes from. I am trying to understand this racism toward my little man, whom doesn’t deserve it. I am trying to understand the thoughts behind the people that cannot see beyond the color of his skin and see him for who he is…for the beautiful, kind, loving, good little boy that he is. But, many people will miss out on him because they are blind and narrow minded.
For now he is oblivious to all of this and we are able to protect him from them that judge him.

But, what happens when he’s older and no longer oblivious? This scares me and hurts me all at the same time. I know I will not always be able to protect him from this. I know that someday I won’t be there to protect him or distract him from racisms arrows. I pray that I will have prepared him enough to stand against evils arrows…that I will have done a good enough job at helping him believe in himself and his worth and that he will know that his true beauty lies in not just the beauty of his dark skin but in his beautiful heart.

How have you experienced racism? To those of you with children, how do you teach your children about these things?

Survival

This weeks theme for Jen’s Spin Cycle is called Surviving the battle, winning the war. Since I wrote a post recently on the topic of change and that post talked about many of the things I have been through in my life, I won’t rehash all the things I have survived. There are things that I survived, that I don’t talk about here and very rarely in my real life. There are things…secrets, that I have never shared with anyone. I am a survivor. Or at least I was a survivor…of drugs, abuse, sickness, divorce, death and loss.




I have said it here before that it’s a miracle that I am still alive…that I have survived through some tough shit sandwiches that really should have killed me. Some of these shit sandwiches were of my own making. Some were not. Surviving changes a person…changes our perspectives. After those moments of survival…after we get safely to the other side, after we breath in that sigh of relief, and it’s time to start living again, because life always goes on regardless of what shit sandwich you are trying to digest…whatever circumstances brought us here…we have choices of whether these things we survived are going to break us or make us.


Living in survival mode can be a way of life because there is safety in living this way or at least we think so. In survival mode we are fighting for our lives, so we are on constant red alert for the next attack. Fight or flight. For some of us, it is how we grew up and what we learned…it’s all we know how to do and be. Surviving can be a habit because we have done it for so long. Stepping out of survival mode and into living is a big step…a risky step and a step that many will never know how to do. It can be like stepping out into an unknown abyss. Laying down our swords or weapons is necessary if we want to call a truce.




After we survive, we have a choice in how we will respond to life’s adversities…to those shit sandwiches. We can eat them with a smile on our face, pretend they are not what they are and that they have no affect on us. When really the stench they leave in us can be smelled from across the room. Because these things, are just like food that goes undigested or does not get put away properly, it spoils and leaves a smell and can make us sick. Everyone can smell us, but us. They leave their mark and everyone can see it but us.



The bitterness, the anger, the hurt, the hate, the shame, the blame, the unforgiveness…all those things that remain unresolved can cause us to act just as stinky as we feel inside. The rotten stench of things left out, and not dealt with leave us with thinking, actions and words that are stinky…and it‘s with this filter that we view life and those around us. Broken.


Or we can spit them out and not accept them. We can call these shit sandwiches for what they are…shit. We choose to do something about them. We take a good look and don’t pretend they are something they are not. We cry. We grieve. We even forgive. We even see the good parts of the sandwich…because every shit sandwich has layers and some of those layers are good…and we take the good out of them and keep them like a priceless gift. And when we are done, what remains of the shit sandwiches get flushed down the toilet, where they belong. We let them go. We don’t forget, but we don’t carry their stink with us. We don’t allow the stink that they caused yesterday to stink up today.



It’s a choice. We stop feeling sorry for ourselves and start feeling thankful for ourselves. And sometimes, if were lucky we are even thankful for the shit sandwich. It’s in these moments of choosing to spit out and not accept, that we go from survival mode to living. The filter through which we see ourselves and the world, is not seen through a shit sandwich.


I made the choice to spit. I made the choice to stop living life in survivor mode and just started to live life. Life is beautiful when your living outside of the box. Yes, part of me will always have a survivor in me. These things that I learned from surviving will always be with me. These shit sandwiches do not define me, but they did help make me who I am today.



In a sense these shit sandwiches are a gift. They are my gift. They are my gift that I share openly and willingly with others. I made the choice for these things I survived, to make me better instead of breaking me. In the end, it’s these things, that made me want to go from living as a survivor, to living life out loud.


How do you live?



This was my spin on survival. For more spins on survival go check out Sprites Keeper.

Manic Monday

It has definitely been a manic Monday here in my world. After my busy weekend, I did not want to get out of bed this morning. Of all days, my little people, did not want to get up this morning. They are usually up by 6, but this morning I had to wake them up at 6:45 so that we could leave on time. Ugh. Do you think they could do this when it’s my day off or on the weekend? So, no morning cuddles this morning.

Normally, they wake up ready to eat but this morning not so much. When it was time to leave they wanted to play. Putting boots, coats, hats and mittens on little people that don’t want to is not fun and I am sure to an outsider it sounded like I was beating them. Ugh. Add in the fact that going through the act of putting on these things every time we walk out the door is getting old! I almost left my house with all the lights on and then almost left without locking the door. I did leave without a coat but that was small compared to everything else. Seriously, I wanted to stop right then and there and crawl back into bed…and hide.

I am not a morning person, but motherhood forced it upon me 28 years ago. I’ve learned to adjust and go with the flow but some mornings, like this, I wanted a do over…to just go back to bed and get up and have another chance at it. I wanted to go back and have my morning cuddle time with the little people that normally starts my day.

After dropping the little people off at daycare, I had to take the young girl I mentor to school, which is in the same town that I work in. It’s a 35 minute drive so her and I had a chance to talk in peace and quiet. She spent the weekend with us and while we had a great weekend together, it is hard dropping her off because there is a part of me that just wants to hang on to her. Last night I stayed up until after midnight talking with her and I went to bed with an aching heart over this young woman, that has experienced more pain than any one person should ever have to. Later this week, I want to share how my weekend with her impacted me.

It was a tough day at work today because the woman I care for is suffering with such high pain and is very discouraged right now. Right now, her future looks bleak. It is hard to keep trying to give hope and encouragement to someone that is suffering, with no hopes of that changing. I try to be so strong for her but today I cried with her. Today, we had a quiet day, of her and I grieving together over the life she cannot live because of a body that will not let her.

My day didn’t get better with the news of there being a 100% chance of snow tonight, tomorrow and into Wednesday. And that the high for Thursday is -12. Enough already. They are saying that we could get at least a foot, along with 60 mile an hour winds, making it the worst blizzard in years…making it impossible to drive anywhere, which means I will not be going to work. As I look at the 2 feet of snow that is still sitting outside, this is not music to my ears. I have this sinking feeling that we will be making snowman bunnies at Easter time just like we did last Easter. Ugh.

After this manic day, I was really looking forward to going to my yoga class tonight but had to miss it because my husband came home late. Life happens. It doesn’t always fit into our plans does it?

On the bright side, my husband might not be able to go out on his milk route tomorrow either, so we could have a fun snow day together. I can only hope. On the bright side, I was able to be there for 2 hurting people, and not only made them smile but laugh as well. (I have a way of amusing people.)On the bright side, if we are snowed in, I will have time to catch up on your blogs and writing. I am thankful that we are all home safe in our warm home and are blessed with an abundance of food and we are without need, I am thankful that this manic Monday is almost to a close. A foot of snow or not, tomorrow will be a better day! How was your Monday?

PS Thanks for listening!

Friday Fill-in's

And...here we go!

1. Letting an elderly couple go ahead of me in the check out line was my last random act of kindness.

2. Another place, that I would love to travel to, is India.

3. Now that I am older and have lived my share of heartaches, I am much wiser in matters of the heart.

4. Coffee, tea or a spicy bloody mary is what I like to drink on weekend mornings.

5. I am thankful that my husband and I are no longer on separate paths.

6. Our life together reminds me that it's never too late to find love, how fortunate I am to have found him and to never take him for granted.

7. And as for the weekend, tonight I'm looking forward to spending time with my husband in peace and quiet, now that the little people are in bed, tomorrow my plans include picking up the young girl that I mentor and bringing her here for the weekend, making homemade pizza and watching movies with her and Sunday, I want to go help my brother and his fiancé clean and paint in the house they just bought!

For more Friday fill-in's go here.

My Daily Dose of Sugar

My little love bug...my daily dose of sugar!

This is my grandson(he will be 2 in less than a month) that used to live with me but now lives way too far from me. (sigh) I do talk to him on the phone quite often. He sings to me and is quite the talker, although he talks so fast I don't always understand what he's saying. Yesterday, after each song I sang for him, he clapped and cheered for me...which is sayin a lot, 'cause I can't sing worth a darn. He's darn lucky to be so cute because he is quite the busy stinker and I think the cuteness saves his ass half the time.

He is one of the great joys and loves of my life. I LOVE being his grandma. There is a possibility of he and his mom coming at the end of the month, for a short visit! Yay!!!! I am trying to not get my hopes up but you know how that goes.

A Grand Adventure

My life is an adventure. These day's, most of the time, it is a low keyed, boring adventure, which is fine by me. I tend to like a boring non chaos kind of life. I have had enough drama and chaos in my past, that I try to steer clear of it now.

I love children of all ages and I love being a mom more than anything in the world. I put everything in my life on hold, to raise the 5 of them along with the many daycare children that spent all their waking hours at my home. I became a mom when I was still a kid myself, so I had spent all my adult years being “mom”. I knew that eventually they would grow up and then it would be my time.

When I finally found the love of my life and married him, I was excited about the adventure that he and I were embarking on. I had waited my whole life for him and could hardly wait for our adventure to begin. It was only in that year before meeting him, that I had started living a life for me…doing things outside of mothering. With my youngest child, a senior in high school, I had more freedoms to do those things I had put on hold…and now I had found someone to share the adventure with.

We entered our marriage with many dreams and plans for our adventure. None of these plans included having children together. None of these dreams were of being “daddy” and “mommy” together. None of these were of being tied down on the weekends or our day’s off.

Three weeks after our wedding, our granddaughter, little lady, was born. It became evident that her mother, my step daughter, could not handle caring for her and her brother, our grandson, little man, who was 14 months old, at the same time, alone. There are no fathers involved with either of them so she was alone but she made that choice. We tried to support her as a mom. Tried to get her help. We were either caring for one or both of them, all of the time. She was not bonding with her children and the conditions of the children after being with her, were poor. She could not handle parenting and the children were suffering and no amount of help we gave her was fixing the situation.

We lived in denial of what was happening. We kept thinking this would end any day now and our adventures would begin. We were afraid for our grandchildren. We could not keep up with her lies and her refusal to take responsibility for her life, her choices and her children. No amount of support or help was doing any good. Talking with her, was like talking to a wall. She was the mother for gods sake, but here I was being the mother, 90 % of the time. We didn’t want to be the parents, we wanted to be the grandparents. We felt stuck in a no win situation. When it came to the point of her asking us to take them, we could have said “no” but how could we look at these precious children, and say “no“?

Thus, our birth into parenthood. Our lives were interrupted to become parents. I started this blog to write about the adventures of becoming a mommy again…to write about this interruption of our lives. Our plans and dreams have been put on hold, as our adventure changed directions. Somehow, those plans and dreams aren’t as important as what we are in the middle of. Our plans and dreams can wait, but children can’t.

It’s been a fight, as many of you already know…fighting to keep giving these children what they so deserve. I will fight until the fight is taken away from me. It has not been an easy road to travel and I know it will not get any easier down the road. Yes, there are times that we get a little weathered from the storms that hit and there are day’s I question if I am cut out for this job. But, most of the time, the sun shines brightly, with the love and the smiles and the giggles that over flow in my days.

I look at these two precious interruptions, and I cannot imagine my life without them. They have changed everything and they have changed me.
This grand adventure is worth everything I have given up and put on hold. What I have gained is far more grand and spectacular than what I imagined to be. This is the story of how our grand adventure began. This is the story of my journey.

This is my life interrupted. Thank you for letting me share it with you.

To read more stories on adventure, go visit the spin cycle at Sprite's Keeper.