Feliz Navidad and a couple of trumpy bears.

 This year, we celebrated on Christmas eve. We had our family meal. It was a Spanish theme, tamales, arroz con pollo, menudo, roasted corn, (it was boiled, but I choose to remember it as roasted), tacos, etc, etcetera, et cetera.

Now I’m chilling on the couch watching the kids graze. They eat, play and eat some more. I enjoy that.

 The gathering is light, missing a lot of people who’ve chosen to skip the event. I’m okay with it. Well, I have to be ‘cuz what else am I to do? They’re adults. Deep sigh.

 I’ve heard it said that abandonment is the mark of good parenting. I choose to believe that today and every day after. Parenting isn’t for the weak or gentle minded. My parenting career has been fraught with hellish events, sprinkled with some love and laughter. I’m uncertain as to whether I go back and do it again…. if I had to choose.

 Let me say, that parenting hurts your heart in ways you’d never believe or could ever be prepared for. Even after adoption there are times when I feel as if I’m just “foster people”. It something the sister of my chosen daughter used to say. “She not your mom. She’s just foster people.”

sigh

Well, this foster people is wanting to stop her from making what I believe is a huge mistake. He isn’t the one, but she has allowed herself to be manipulated and it all reminds me of when it happened to me and I want to wrap my arms around her and squeeze the idea out of her. But alas, we must all walk our own paths.

Thanks for listening. Thanks for the words of encouragement, they are much appreciated!

 Oh, and no one received a trumpy bear, it had been a threat, but I suppose they couldn’t find one for purchase.

Ten things, er Five things no one tells you about parenting

 There are times when I envy my childless acquaintances. They will never know the agony of it all.

I’ve been praying. I’ve been pondering and I now understand why my mom wanted me to be a single, free, accomplished woman. I used to think that she was wrong in her disappointment of my choice to get married and have children. Now, I understand her hearts desire for my happiness.

I wanted the same thing for my children, my version of their happiness. I’m not wanting to dictate choices, I just want them to learn from my mistakes. And there were many of them, especially in relationships.

 Oddly, my children, even those grafted into my heart and adopted as mine, all seem to be struggling in that area. I get that we all learn from experience, but, however, my mommy heart hurts. Even as I write this my mommy heart hurts.

They are all, each one, living their lives. Period. End of sentence. Yes, I could say more, I am very well aware that if I transitioned from this eaeth tomorrow, they’d still make what I see as wrong decisions. And yet, I did the same thing – defied my parents’ wishes, hopes, and dreams for my life.

So, I wish I could tell a new mom to cherish the first six years. That’s the apex of parenting. It’s during that time when you have to most control, yes, control over what gets poured into them, like a foundation. Years seven through thirteen are the tweaking or fine tuning years. These years show you what you’ve missed in the foundation. It’s during these years that you get a glimpse of the adult they’ll become.

Ironically, I’ve found that years 14 through 18 deeply correlate with years 2 through 4. The difference is, they’re harder to discipline, meaning they’ve lived with you long enough to know who you are and can make the decision to comply or ignore, OH and they’re sexually aware of … well, everything. And when asked anything or an observationis made, “I know mom!” is the usual reply.

Eighteen is considered adult. Who ever came up with that dumb Sugar, Honey, Iced Tea should be shaken. I didn’t know squat at 18, but I certainly believed that I did. Sigh

 The hardest part for me is letting go and not watching them sail or fall. I’m trying to keep my mouth shut when I wanna scream, “LOOK OUT!!!!

Deeper sigh

I apologize for any typos and maybe not getting all five points out for you, but like I’ve said, my heart hurts.

Selah

One ship left

I used to watch my kids play video games. Their games are far more complicated than any of the games I grew up playing, and they don’t have to leave home play. They experience the highs and lows of game play in the comfort of their own space. I suppose that that’s why the anxiety of having spend more money when you lose doesn’t enter their game play. They can just take a bathroom break and start over.

My generation understood that your success in the game was directly tied to skill and of course how many quarters you had in your pocket. I feel like that now, in life. I noticed yesterday that I’m feeling like I’m losing the game and I only have one more chance. I get what’s happening in the spiritual.

Enemy has thrown the usual things at me, however this man is faithful, I recognize that God is our supply, my body image no longer distresses me because I married a man who sees me and loves every bit of what he calls his buffet. I’ve learned to accept that my children are grown, making their own decisions whether I like or understand them or not… they’re grown.

So, I sit here writing to you to say simply that worrying gains nothing positive, which is why scripture tells us to not worry or be anxious about anything. The peace I feel is odd… scripture says this is the kind that (passeth all understanding). I like to imagine that this is what my Nanaboy feels as he goes about his day. No worries because Nana is there to fulfill his needs and wants. All he has to do ask and he can do it in two languages, well three if you understand what the shake of his sippy cup means.

I’m choosing to be an adult about all things right now. I must play as if I have limitless quarters, and I’m playing in the comfort of my own home.

No, no, no, I want a do over

Man, I saw a post asking what I’d tell my 15 year old self, if given the chance.

Many things cross my mind, but the main thing would be that I am loved. And just before the moment was over, I’d tell myself who not to trust.

It would be excellent if we could have do overs. The problem is that they’d have to be limited and none transferable. However, in this life, I’ve found that humans have vile ways of doing things, more often than I’d ever want to believe. So the idea that someone would be held hostage for use of their do overs, doesn’t surprise me, neither does someone selling one for profit, or using them as bargaining chip.

We don’t get do overs, but second chances exist. We just have to be able to recognize them and make excellent use of the opportunity, which requires a certain level of discipline and consistency.

Certain things can cause me to weep, especially a glimpse of hope deferred. The Bible says that hope deferred make the heart weak. I can attest to that truth. Then the next thing is to be truly honest about the level of discipline, consistency, and diligence I’ve attained in said Hope. I must also address an old foe, the little girl inside of me that still believes she doesn’t matter in this world. I know it’s a lie and yet it hinders my forward progress and nurtures the stagnation. YIKES! Anything stagnant stinks.

This is my first post in 2023. It is the 20th day of the year. I’ve told myself to work on consistency. And to count the victories, no matter how small and this post is a victory.

BE Blessed!

Let he who is without sin…

 I heard about the T. D. Jakes thing and it made we question my Christianity.

 I know from my studies that Jesus didn’t spend time with the church of his day unless he was teaching and the Bible gives us only one account of that instance. The other time was in anger and the other was to watch the offering service. Most of his time on earth he did the opposite of what the “church of his day” allowed. He healed on the Sabbath. He hung out with the scorned, dregs of the community.

 When I hear about the people who teach, preach and profess Christ being maligned, I always wonder how the church of today would see Jesus. I for one would have to just watch and see if the Spirit of God is made manifest. I would like to believe that the spirit in me would know him because I call him friend.

 I always remember “Judge not lest ye be judged” but every one seems to forget that we set the measure of how we are judge and forgiven by the one in whom we profess belief.

 No man can rightfully point the finger at anyone because their sin is something we wouldn’t do. Heaven doesn’t judge on a curve, sin is sin.

 I strive to err in the side of what is right by my understanding of scripture. It’s how I choose to live my life. Pray for those you believe have fallen into the practice of sin. Keep your mouth from uttering slander and always remember: “Let the one who is completely without sin, cast the first stone.”

 Apologies for any and all typos.

I have to do this earlier in my day

Pet Owner Fatigue

My dog is almost 12 years old. We’ve had her since she was six weeks old.

She barks at odd hours of the night. She wants out. She wants in. She wants to be in different areas of the house… her fav place used to be in the garage, but now she’s just not happy anywhere.

Right now she’s barking, but she doesn’t want to go outside, or even out of the garage. Hubby has checked around the house, nothing we can see or hear out of the norm.

I want sleep. I’m having not so nice thoughts… I’m about to cry from sleeplessness. Sigh.

We’ve tried many things… and I refuse to replace the weighted jacket thingy she ate. Sigh

I just want her to sleep.

Just a Shameless Plug…

Hey peep!

I have to let you, my 1200 followers, lnow that I haven’t posted lately because I’m trying to get my podcast up and running.

It is a LOT more involved than I’d imagined. . I have to purchase a microphone and some other things AND I have to write content. I’ve always believed that Podcaster meant just firing every thing up and saying what ever is in your mind… which is mostly true, however if you don’t want to sound cray cray… you have to write it out first.

It’s on Anchor. I should post the link, but I’m in the car writing this and well, I will post it in the next post.

Thank you so much for making this blog a successful one! I’m looking forward to an equally successful podcast!

Smooches! BE Blessed!

Ten year old Suspended from school over alleged drug possession

Yep, you’ve read that correctly.

A ten year old boy saw something on the floor in school, picked it up and showed it to a friend. The friend told the teacher, boy who found object in question was suspended for drug possession!?!?

Now, I got this story from the boy’s mom and then from the boy.

The boy is my grandson. He is African American, or Black. He is as all kids his age, curious. He isn’t afraid of much, if anything. He is fastidious, especially about how he presents himself to the world. He has adopted his grandfather’s morning routine, almost exactly. His mom won’t allow him to wear cologne.

He is also brutally honest. He learned at a young age that honesty is the best policy after we told him that it’s the road to less retribution. He accepts corrections, sure sometimes not graciously, but he accepts it.

AND, yes he gets in trouble – he’s 10.

I watched my hubby speak to him after I brought him home from school the day he got suspended.

First, let me say, we know he’s not perfect. In all honesty, he has done some kid stuff that this zero tolerance school culture frowns upon… he took an old vape out of the trash and took it to school… I must admit, it was cool looking. (Hence the lawsuit for marketing to teens) (I may include a pic of it)

Next he was rough housing on the bus and well… yeah. He did that. We accepted the fact that he’d earned that one day suspension from the bus.

However, this drug thing, is another thing all together. The Principal has admitted to being overly sensitive about what appears to be drug related issues because of losing her brother to drug addiction. And while I’m trying to tell myself that my grandson wasn’t racially profiled… I’ll admit it comes across that way. I had to leave the room when I heard my hubby began to tearfully have THE TALK with our ten year old grandson.

He didn’t even know what was in the baggy, which was why he picked it up.

Sigh, I believe that this could have been better handled by the school. They have wrongfully assumed that he brought the item from home, which puts the ball squarely in my court. Game on!

I’ll keep you posted.