Forty Something Parents

The Ins & Outs of Parenting


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Field Trip: The Grand Children’s Festival

–Fun…FREE Activities For Home School (or Traditionally Schooled) Kids–

In my last post, I wrote briefly about this past weekend…when we attended the Children’s Festival down in the Strand District.  It’s a really fun time for kids of all ages, and very family friendly.  Best of all, the festival is FREE!  And even though this was our first year to attend, we certainly don’t plan on it being our last.

In the meantime — I wanted to share some of the fun moments from this past festival.  The numerous booths and activities were enough to keep us busy for the entire weekend; though the event is only for one day.

The learning experiences that Nixi was able to be a party to, I feel, will stay with her for years to come.  As for me…?  I realized I’m absolutely no good at hoola-hooping, but I  can still do the Lemon Twist; or an updated version of the old classic jumping toy I used to love as a kid.  It was great to show my husband and child, that this middle-aged Mamma can still ‘cut-a-rug’.  I look back on it, and I have to laugh.  –As I feel I’ll do…for years to come.

*Forever Young*

*Being Young-at-Heart*

*Remaining Active Over 40*

 

 

 


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Home School Cliques and Bullying Among Adults

We met late last year, after my daughter had attempted to eat her son’s toy.  My husband had witnessed it as it happened, and made Nixi apologize to the woman’s little boy.  It was laughed off, and we started talking: me and the one I will refer to only as ‘C’…for sake of not gossiping.

She seemed pretty nice when we first met, though the signs of control were there from the git-go.  I noticed it after briefly discussing travel and where-all we’d like to go.  I told her I had always wanted to visit New York.  She quickly came out with, “No…  You don’t want to go there!  Everyone just acts like you’re not even there when you walk down the street.  They never look you in the eye, and they’re rude.”  I just left it alone, but took notice for future reference.

did want to go to New York…still!  Just because someone I’ve just met, and wasn’t sure I wanted to get to know, says NY is no good…doesn’t make it true for me.  Besides, I have friends there; never-mind we’ve lost touch for a number of years.  Still…they are friends.

I’d clearly had my first ‘red flag’ that day; no matter how well our kids were playing at the time.  We had exchanged numbers and decided to get together for a play-date.  But it would be a few weeks before that actually happened.  Again, we ran into her at the library and sat and talked a bit more.  And…again, another ‘red flag’ quickly shot up.

I had noticed her staring and laughing in the direction of a very pretty woman, though quite heavy in size.  The lady had apparently made a bad fashion choice, according to ‘C’.  She stared and laughed under her breath, but it was still very obvious.  I kinda didn’t say anything, but took notice.

Even if I did agree, I still felt bad for the other lady…C’s target of the day.  Still, I felt myself getting sucked into the meanness, but caught myself on the verge…and dismissed the adolescent behavior that was ensuing.

Remembering what I was trying to teach my Nixi, I knew it was very rotten citizenship to behave in such a way.  After-all, being an adult should mean we’ve outgrown such antics as bullying.  One might think so, anyway.  Needless to say, another major red flag.  Two strikes against C!

Well…aren’t just a glutton for punishment!  I overlooked the red flags, and continued getting to know C.  We exchanged a few texts, and even talked over the phone a little.  The play-date plans were made, and…soon-after, we met her and her son for a day at the park with a few other home school moms.

It was a very fun day for us all, and I found myself second-guessing my previous opinions and warnings.  Parting ways that day, I was sure I’d found a friend for both me and my daughter.  This is going to be a fun year!  I said to myself; later telling my husband Nico how much promise this new friendship was showing.  He, of course, was very happy for us.  Soon, another play-date was planned, and it was just C and I…and our kids.  It went off without incident, we laughed and enjoyed visiting.  I couldn’t have been happier.

Taking a step further, we were soon inviting each other over to our most sacred of places — our homes.  We first visited C and her family at their end of the island.  I loved her little place — a split-level carriage house they’d been renting on the East end.  It was cute and quaint; though it smelled very strongly of natural gas.  I didn’t mind.  I had lived in a house with gas heaters for many years…and grew used to it after about half-an-hour.

So…we got on with what was leaning towards a very nice visit, and even had dinner with them.  The more I got to know C, the more I felt I must have been wrong with my first assessment of her.  Still, there was another red flag that evening.  –Again, I let it slide.

At our last play-date, I had shared our music with C, and she had really loved it, she had said at the time.  So…that night we visited, we had brought our instruments for an impromptu jam session with her husband who played bass guitar.

It was a fun thought, when we had planned it.  But after my first song — which was being drowned out by our kids playing, yelling, and laughing — C came off with, “You need to work on your confidence.”  What the ‘blankety-blank-blank was that?!  Now the red flags were really flying!

 I quickly chimed in with something like, “The song is supposed to be sung softly, it’s just really loud in here.”  Something along those lines.  Nico said the same thing…in a nut-shell.  A few songs later, with her standing over us like she was some sort of expert, I knew she did not appreciate our music and seemed to be picking us to pieces.  Her husband seemed to like it just fine; though he didn’t speak two words the entire time we were there.  We were quickly replaced by video games before the visit was over, and we didn’t stay late.

Red flag number…4?!  I stopped counting at that point.  And I should have cut contact with her then.  If I’d had any sense at all…I would have.  But…I must not, because I invited her for a play-date at our place.  And anyone who knows us…knows that we live quite differently than most folks.

Our lifestyle fits us, just as our tiny home-on-wheels fits our lifestyle.  We don’t expect everyone to ‘get it’, but…then-again, we aren’t trying to impress anyone or get their approval.  Mermaid Mansion is perfect for us, and we’ve worked very hard for what we own…bought and paid-in-full.  ‘Sure beats renting, or a 30 year mortgage!  And, even better, she goes where we go.

So…C came to visit our caravan home, and let-on like she loved it.  I was happy, but hadn’t been worried whether she did or didn’t like our place.  I just opened our home up to her and her son, feeling that perhaps I had over-reacted a little.  Man…!  If I had only known then what I know about her now!  That day never would have happened.

She stayed way after dark, and so, we invited her for supper.  All had gone okay up-to-then, unless you count earlier that day…when her son had been pitching dirt up into the air for it to blow back into my face.  She never said a word about it because she was too busy ‘labeling’ me as a home body.

“Excuse me, girl?!   Just because I love my home life, and don’t feel the need to fly the coop each and every day (just looking for ways to get away from my husband who, according to YOU, sleeps all day and plays video games all night), does not mean that I am a homebody.  And, did you…just maybe, consider that I might not want to be around you that long…locked in a car, off the island to where ever (anywhere but home), you flee?!”  Such are just a few of the reasons why I never wanted to go running around with C each time she invited us.  I listened to intuition those times.

But getting back to her visit to MM–  Inviting her for dinner?!  Was I crazy?!!    I must have been!  By the end of the night, I knew the budding friendship was fading fast.  Her making reference to kids with Down Syndrome as being ‘retarded’ should have been enough; being quite certain that I had told her about my little grandson having DS!  Again, I just sat in disbelief at what had just come out of her mouth…and let is slide.

If I had only seen what Nico later told me about when she’d left, the line would have been drawn right then-and-there.  Had I only seen her getting on to my daughter (I had thought she was reprimanding her son), in MY home…she’d have been told off and ordered to leave. My back was to it at the time; having dinner as the kids played in Nixi’s room.

I found out later that my little stinker-monster was being mischievous, and attempting to push C’s son off the bed.  If I had seen it, my daughter would definitely not have gotten away with that.  I’m not one of those moms who thinks my kid never does any wrong.  I know she does; like all other kids on this planet–including C’s.

So…there I was!  –Not knowing quite what to do about it all, other-than just steer clear of her from that day on.  One would think that it would be a no-brainer!  Right?  Wrong!  A few weeks passed and we kept our distance.  Then, out of the blue, she text me for a play-date.  Never mind that I had suspected that her and the other moms were getting together without inviting me and my daughter.  –‘Not sure why, though. I had never done anything to anyone, and we all seemed to get along great at that first play-date; which was the last time I’d heard from any of them…except for C.

I quickly suspected something was up.  And there was no question who I might have to ‘thank‘ for it.  –None-other than the very ‘friend’ I had invited into my home, and shared with her the illustrations I had painted for my new children’s book.  –Even the story itself, I shared with her.  She was very complimentary at the time; even asking if she could scan my paintings to animate them.  I wasn’t about to let that happen, so I politely declined.  Her niceties, I know now, were completely artificial.  –Just like our friendship had been all along.

Still, even though I hesitated…and went against my gut feeling (which was screaming, Noooooo!  Don’t do it! It’ll end badly!!  NOOOOoooo!!), I went to the play-date, right around the corner from our place; refusing the ride C had offered.  Anything less than a mile from home, we always try to walk; happy to get the exercise while helping to be kinder to the environment.

So…we walked to the park, and there they were: C and her son, and another home school mom I had met briefly at the first play-date.  She was a very nice lady who didn’t say much…and –I suspected–never did any harm to anyone.  She seemed a gentle soul.  I liked her.  No red flags, no signs. She was just genuinely nice.  As for the  other home school moms, I liked them all too.  Even though C had ‘confided’ in me that she didn’t like one of the moms for what ever reason.  Something to do with drama?  I can’t remember really.

Even still, whether they included me or not, I thought they were all nice, and they had never done anything for me to not like them.  Though I suspected they didn’t reciprocate such feelings towards me.  It led me to realize that, since they did not know me, they’d been given false truths about me.  I suspected, but never knew for sure.  Still, no skin off my back.

That last play-date got off with out a hitch, but not for long.  I’m not sure what had gotten into my Nixi that day, but she was being a stinker…again.  Never mind that two of the other mom’s boys were wrestling and, I guess, play fighting; Nixi had no right to go up and smack the smallest boy.  I saw it about to happen, but couldn’t catch it in time.  Nixi was reprimanded and made to apologize.

The boys mom, the nice mom, didn’t seem to be offended. She could see that I had taken care of it, and she didn’t have to say anything.  She was very mature about it all.  Still, I felt bad that it had happened.  And, of course, C had to chime in when Nixi came over for a drink of juice.

“You shouldn’t hit, you know.”  She had the nerve to correct my daughter, after she had previously made it clear that she didn’t like when other moms correct her son?!  My blood was beginning to boil to the point of ‘blanking out’.  When I lose it–completely boil over–I have a tendency to blank out. I didn’t want to do that there, and set such a bad example for the kids.  It had been years since I’d last let anyone get to me like that.  I didn’t like C at all!  Negative all the way!  Toxic to the core!  I could finally see it very clearly.  She was bad news!

The play-date ended badly that day.  –After my Nixi was being mischievous…again, only to the boys; since she’d made fast-friends with the other mom’s daughter.  This time, though, Nixi hadn’t hit anyone.  She was simply picking grass and throwing it at others.  Still not nice.  I know.  Like I said, I’m the first to admit it.  She’s not the only one, though. C’s son would absolutely not share his scooter.  The few times Nixi or any other kid got a chance to ride it, he came and took it away.  C said nothing. She was too busy saying something about someone.  I was half listening.  But I was watching her watch my daughter.

Then it all broke loose!  C got up and stormed towards my daughter, not realizing I was right on her tail.  I was still surprised when she looked like she was going to put her hands on Nixi.  She’d better be glad she didn’t, too!  My boiling point would’ve over-taken me and bad would’ve turned to worse.

It was all so surreal.  There C was, having the nerve to get onto my child.  I stopped her, though I cannot recall exactly what I said; since I was already blanking out at that point.  But it was something along the lines of, “I’ll get onto my child!”  I didn’t crack a smile, but am quite sure I looked really P.O’ed.

C said something like, “It’s time to go.”  As if telling me and my daughter we needed to leave?!  Seriously!  There we stood, at our neighborhood park.  The one had shown her!  More nerve than a bad tooth, this girl had!  I can’t even refer to her as a woman, since she stooped to the level of Kindergartners.

I said a few words to my daughter, careful not to shame her, but to talk to her and see what was going on inside her young mind.  I knew there had to be a reason why she was acting up that day.  We turned and started heading for home.  And I was seething when I turned around to thank C for the scarf and hat she had made for Nixi.  It was a late Christmas gift she had said.  It played a lot into why I kept my cool that day.

I wanted to think it was all just a huge misunderstanding.  Surely C knew I would be offended for her getting after my daughter, if such-a-thing offended her as well?!  Still, she seemed to not know any better.  Her problem I guess, but it wasn’t going to be mine anymore.  I had thought about calling C and asking her what was going on?  Why would she lunge at my daughter and expect to remain friends?  To me, she seemed to not even care.  Nor did I at this point.  Things were best to be left unsaid.

THAT was then!  This past weekend was a deal breaker, though.  We had gone to the children’s festival to meet another friend of Nixi’s; one we’ve never had a bit of problems with at all.  –A really nice little girl, with a really nice mom and grandma.  They respect others because they respect themselves.  And no gossip!

We had such a fun day, seeing all the going’s on and enjoying so many activities.  Nixi and her little friend never had a bit of trouble.  Though they were quite a challenge to keep up with; so full of energy and all.  We had been from one end of the festival to the other…and back again.

I had suspected I might see  C there, since she lives not far from the area.  And I was right.  When I least expected it, there she was.  I hadn’t noticed her until after I noticed her son…right after I had to stop Nixi from taking a dump truck he was playing with.  I corrected her, as I always do when she’s being a stinker.

I looked over and could hardly believe what I was witnessing.  C was pointing right at us, whispering into the ear of another lady who was sitting beside her.  Unbelievably immature!  Adolescent in every way!  Nico and I just laughed at her, not really believing she had the nerve to show such ‘class‘.

The truth is, If I really cared what she thought of us, I might have followed my urge to go ask her what was up.  Though, Nico probably would have stopped me before I could go put an end to it.  –Telling me something along-the-lines of, “she just isn’t worth the effort.”  I would’ve had to agree with him.  We had been having such a good time, and I didn’t want to cause a scene in front of friends.  We just stood our ground and stayed in that spot, despite C’s obvious slanderous gossip and cliquish behavior.  When the girls were done playing there, we headed on down the road to another fun spot.

Nico told me later that the entire time we’d been standing even remotely in the area, C had been pointing down at us and talking into the ear of another unsuspecting sounding board.  It made me think of the one rule of thumb I’ve always followed:  If someone is talking trash about one person, or everyone else, they will certainly talk the same about me.  This was the prime example: C’s adolescent actions.  I was happy to rise above such behavior and be rid of such a toxic person…clouding up my life and well-being.

Yes, my Nixi is still a stinker. But she is my little stinker.  And to this day…and all the days forward, I don’t suspect I’ll ever meet another mom (whether home school or traditional school) who will take kindly to any other mom getting onto her kid(s).  I always try to respect others, as I expect them to respect me.  Without that, friendship will never be.  And with friends like C, I’d rather not have a single one.  I’m happy with my own company, and that of my family and real friends.  With them, there’s little to no drama…and almost always a lot of fun. Life is just too short to waste on toxic people who only mean to deceive.

–Words I live by–

*Life isn’t rocket science.  There’s no need to complicate it with the toxic behavior of others*  *Love yourself and be kind to others*  *Kharma is only bad when sent out that way*  *Cliques are for kids who don’t know any better*  *Adults who bully, are still a child in their minds*

 


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Home School ‘Class Pets’

The other day…during outside playtime, my daughter Nixi and I discovered a baby snail stranded in the middle of our sandbox lid.  It must’ve felt like no ‘mans’ land to the little critter– I’m sure he was almost bird feed.

It was a very daring snail rescue!  –Nixi and I swooped-up our new class pet, created his habitat-in-a-jar, and named him Inch.  –Though we’re calling him a ‘he’, we really don’t know for sure.  Snails are difficult that way.  :  )

All in all…It was a fun day of learning to be kind to creatures more vulnerable than ourselves.  Nixi and I came inside and examined Inch with our magnifying glass, while referencing her book about shells; which identifies the parts of creatures living in shells…including snails.

I thought it might be fun to share our little adventure in nature, with you-all out there in this great big world of wonder.  Whether you home school your child (children), or your child (children) go the more traditional route, I hope our little snail, Inch, will inspire you to scout for your own class pet.

*Discover a universe of nature in your own yard.  The world is an adventure….waiting to happen!  –Free for all to enjoy!*

 

 


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Finding Your Inner-Child…Late in Life

 

Who needs the Fountain of Youth when you have a Toddler and a positive attitude!  Feeling young, and staying young, is as easy as remembering your own childhood.  Here’s how I rediscovered my Inner Child…(click on pic or link for more).

Biking at Big Lagoon SRA, near Perdido Key, FL

Biking at Big Lagoon SRA, near Perdido Key, FL

http://voices.yahoo.com/forty-something-years-young-7804120.html?image=1513808&cat=44


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Ringing in the New Year…on the Sands of Time

Writing & Wanderlust

Memories of one New Year, spent on the Sands of Time.

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A White Christmas For Baby

One magical Christmas, when our Baby was as new as the freshly fallen snow.

The Blessings of Baby's First Christmas

The Blessings of Baby’s First Christmas


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The Scent of Longing

I woke up this morning wishing I could call my mom; and wondering when my oldest daughter will get over the thing she thinks was bad enough to not speak to me for over 3 months.  If only I could have just three more months with my mom, I’d be the happiest girl in the world.  I miss her so bad on most days, that it’s unbearable.  She was a forty-something mom too. 

So many times she’d tell me the story of how I came to be; how my Daddy gave me my name; how I would always be her baby.  My heart continues to hurt.  I wish I could call her and have her be the mediator between me and my oldest daughter ‘M’.  I miss her pretty face.  I miss my precious little grandson; his smile that will light up any dark day or pitch-black room.  He is a gem…a priceless gem!  And I haven’t gotten to see him…hold him…smell the way my little guy smells; like a bit of dried up milk and…well…like my grandson. 

We all have our own scent; that one way we smell to those around us, whether it be good or bad.  When you love someone, that scent-of-a-person is always a welcoming thing; like going home after being away for a long…long time.  My mom always smelled like Roses and perfume; an indescribable scent that belonged only to her. 

I can open the jewelry box that I inherited; the one that had belonged to Mom since I can’t remember—perhaps longer than I’ve been alive—and it still has her scent.  I’m careful not to open it too often…so-as not to lose it forever.  At least that way, I still have my mom…at least a little.   

Even still, knowing the changes that will be taking place in our lives this coming month; the changes that are already taking shape, I want to see and talk to…to hug my ‘M’ and little ‘J’ even more.  My heart hurts more and more with every thought and wonder of how they are doing.  Are they safe…?  Are they happy…?  How much bigger is my little guy now than he was back in December; the last time I got to hold him in my arms all night because he was down with a fever and his mom had something to do.  I wish I could make it all right again.  I wish…I could cry more often…to release the years of pain and hurt built-up inside of my heart.  I wish my kids could see inside of me…inside my heart, then they would never have any doubt about how much I really do love them.  Nothing will ever change that.

So now I am faced with the tasks at hand: too many to mention in one sitting.  It is time to roll with the wind once more…and see what needs to be seen.  I have sat here day after day, wondering when it will all seem new again; when my kids will pull up into the drive; when it will all be better, but it is still just what it is.  That is why I have to go with the flow–do what needs to be done, face what needs to be faced, and hope and pray that one day…soon, my family will all be one once again.  We will all be alright…truly better for having suffered through this time; minus of course that one void we will never be able to fill.  My mom is still not with us.  I miss her.  I miss her. 

*Love like there is no tomorrow.  Forgive like you wish to be forgiven*  


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The Land of Lost Toys

Baby Cuddles Mr. Bear

Baby Cuddles Her Favorite Toy — Mr. Bear

It’s funny how we can grow attached to the simplest things when we’re kids (even adults); like my toddler’s Mr. Bear. He’s gone missing…so it seems, and nowhere we’ve searched has he shown his pink, fuzzy face. You see…? He’s not just any bear. He’s Mr. Bear! He is a very special little bear, when it comes down to that one toy my little girl wants when it comes time to travel, eat, sleep…anything in between. He is her favorite toy…out of all the rest, and he hasn’t been seen for several days.

It might sound funny to those of you who’ve never experienced the attachment one can grow to a seemingly unimportant object, but the love is in the giver, the owner, perhaps even the co-owners; such as Mommy and Daddy (Nico and myself). Either way, we are feeling a sense of remorse for not better-looking-after Mr. Bear; a feeling of grief that a member of our family is no longer with us. And his little owner is missing him very much these past few days; especially yesterday. She was asking for him when we were loading up to make a simple trip to the store. Nico and I just looked at each other; careful not to comment any further on Baby’s requests for her little guy.

Still, my heart aches for her loss of the bear she’s had since before she was ever born; the cuddly soft, once pretty and pink, little stuffed bear that her aunt–my big sister–had given her at her baby shower. Through all our travels, Mr. Bear has been there. When Baby came home, brand-spanking-new from the hospital, Mr. Bear was there. In all of her photos, from newborn on up to a few days ago, that not-quite-so-pink-anymore bear has been in her little arms; usually dirty because she won’t let go of him long enough for us to wash him. That’s how loved that little bear is by our little girl. And he’s gpne. I pray we find him, because–even though I know this must all sound silly to so many–we miss that grungy, flip-floppy, little guy. We really do.

So…this is a message, a warning of sorts, to all of you parents out there…to watch closely after that one toy you know your child would miss the most should it ever come up missing; I know I wish now, I would have.

Many Blessings that you never have to endure such a loss of your or your child’s, favorite thing in life; no matter how simple it may be. I pray we find our Mr. Bear soon. His family is missing him very…very much!

*Sometimes the Smallest things in Life, Matter the most*


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A Mother’s Dream

*I’m up early this morn–I had a dream about my daughter (the oldest one)* I miss her face and my GBear, too. : (

As the dream went:  She was at my door–where we lived before–and she looked very sad and lost.  I quickly unlocked the chain when I saw it was her.  She was wearing a red T-Shirt; the one she always wore to sleep, the words “I’m a Pepper” written across it.  I was holding my toddler on my hip, and she began asking about her nephew–my grandson…the son of my oldest–as they had become quite close since he came home from the hospital.  He had been born with complications and specials needs at only 3.5 lbs, but had quickly grown into a heppy…healthy little tyke.  *My heart hurts to see his smile.*

In my dream, my oldest (I’ll call her ‘M’), reached for Baby (my youngest) but Baby turned away and kept asking for my grandson.  My daughter ‘M’ didn’t seem to care that I was standing there, but then it all faded away and I felt a very eery feeling come over me….just before I woke up in tears.

Hubby heard my sobbing and tried to console me, even though he wasn’t quite awake yet.  Now, it’s early morning Saturday….and I’m feeling scared for my daughter and grandson.  I want to hold him in my arms.  I want to hold her like I did when she was young.  I feel so lost for answers, as I’ve tried to call her…but she does not answer.  I’ve tried to call my son too–though he’s another story entirely–he doesn’t answer either.

My kids (minus Baby) have 86’ed me from their lives.  The reason my daughter ‘M’ might give is that I stood her up for a dinner that I RSVP’ed to–though most people will never hear the part where she told me not to go, she didn’t want me there; right before hanging up in my ear.  We decided against exposing our youngest to any drama that might ensue should we go anyway.

As for my son–He never called me and asked what was going on between me and his big sister.  He just went to linching me right along with her.  Still, I’m not mad at either on of them…even if the trust has crumbled.  I miss them, even though they have the tendencies to dig up old bones, that are distorted in truth at best.  I love them…no matter what they do or say to me.  As I’m sure all mother’s know–Our love is unconditional.

Still, I wish I could go back to sleep…if only to see my daughter’s face once again.  My grandson wasn’t in the dream, though I wondered where he was.  I miss his sweet smile.  I miss my son’s goofy nature…and when was the class clown; the teachers always sending home notes.  I still hope that someday…he’ll become a comedian in movies, like Jim Carrey.  I’ll never give up on my kids.  I sooner give up on myself.

The sun is rising-fast across the lake.  How I wish they could be here with me to see it.

*Oh my aching heart*


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A Mother’s Prayer

The Joy of Innocents

 

Awoke early this morning — my mind an abundance of thoughts. The sun has-yet to show its face as I sit here and try to find my words. Still…nothing. Laying in bed this morning, I had so many things to say; if only I could record what I am thinking right when it strikes. But, my dreams remain elusive to the writing I attempt this cold, crisp…late December day.

I have been thinking a lot about my older children: the one’s who are now grown in years, but still so young in mentality; the one’s who are still not talking to me, mostly…I suspect, because they feel guilty for writing such harsh things about me on Facebook and disrespecting me worse than I ever imagined they could…or would. My heart was shattered that day; the day I had no choice but to block my own kids from my social page. I still can’t believe it wasn’t all a terrible nightmare.
But…it is only another day in my life…with my adult kids constantly blaming me for anything…everything that has ever gone wrong for them. Will it ever end? I wonder…

I pray that my youngest–still in her toddler years–will have a milder temperament when it comes to forgiveness, understanding, loving another unconditionally. I suspect, because she is partially of a different genetic pool, that she will not be so difficult as my other two have always been. There has been no break from drama for the past 10 to 15 years. Never a dull moment with those two. I miss when they were young and still so innocent and sweet. I worry where I went wrong; hoping I won’t make the same mistakes with Baby.

Being a mom is the single-most difficult, scary, frustrating, heartbreaking, rewarding, priceless job a woman can do in her lifetime. Being a dad is equally the same for dedicated fathers who stand by their wife (or ex-wife…be-it-so) through it all.

I commend those parents who seem to have it down to a science; the ones who have reared their children so well. I look up to them…and envy them, all at once.
The only thing I have left to do these days…so it seems, is pray.