Bitter Sweet Love

Anyone who really knows me, knows that I have been on an on again - off again weight loss journey. Well actually, most of the journey has to do with the starts and stops, more than the actually sticking to a healthy diet and exercise regimen.

Here is where I feel I can justly blame being ADD... No really... he he
I so want to start a diet,  gym class, this blog or anything for that matter, and finish it with great results.  I would love to stick to the momentary choices I make to change my lifestyle the way the people in the endless 'live healthy' articles I have read do. In my head, I can and will do it. I will be a success because I will be determined enough to eat healthy for how ever long is required to beat the flab jiggling around my waist. It will happen! Someday, One day, I will finish a diet!

And one day, Someone will make food that tastes horrible, and cake will smell like dead fish which will put me off it for life and force me to stick to that diet that requires me to really put in a effort to pre-make and pre-plan my meals. Someday, I will become allergic to ice Cream and potato chips and my body will reject any CARBS I bring close to my lips. It will Happen!

A Girl Can Dream right...

So in my search for something to help drop the weight, I found Banting. If you have not heard about it, you live under a rock.
I bought the books, had Hubby prepare the meals and I lost 6kg in a month and a half by going to gym 6 days a week as well. It was going great!
Then on the Banting Group I am a member of kept discussing this Full Cream/Butter Coffee that sounded yummy but I was waaaay to afraid to try. It sounded very much like a creamy Cuppa-chino to me, so I started drinking that with a little honey in the morning before work as it was sort of allowed and I needed some indulgence.

Behind the Cuppa-chino counter, I made a Friend, T, who knew what I came for every morning, and then at lunch, and sometimes during my tea breaks.
Yes, I fell in love.... No, not with T, with this little white cup of brown bitter liquid with a little foam on the top, that lathered my tongue with the perfect combination of bitter and sweet, leaving my lip with a little mustache after every sip. It became all I thought about drinking, finding an excuse to go out and get one over the weekend!

So instead of busting any more kg's, I am indulging in a Cuppa which makes my flab okay with the world because that is something I can start and finish!

Next week, its back to Banting with a friendly Cuppa to Cheer my new start on :)

All that, for a cup of Coffee...XOXO

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Mommy Bride to Daddy Child

Its been ages since I did a post for Mama Kat's Writers workshop, but for someone who blogs very little, it is a good way to get new writing juices flowing.
This weeks topics did not stand out to me immediately, but after spending some time in thought, I realized that there is something that you learn being married for the time that I have been married.

When I was young, I had my wedding all planned out in my head. I had a theme, How I wanted to look and pretty much got it all accept the Ice sculpture I wanted.
The one thing I did not plan or prepare for was the groom. In my head, he would be everything I need. I NEED....

Almost everyone I grew up with had 'daddy' issues, including myself. So it is easy to assume that we all looked for someone who would take up where daddy left off. But when we are in the heat of passion and literally 'fall' in love, we never stop to think what marriage with this person would be like. My mother never really discussed how marriage was until I already was married and it took me some time to adjust to life as a married woman as it was faaaar from what I expected.

Don't get me wrong, I love my husband and I respect him as the head of my house, but I had no idea how hard being a wife would actually be. It is very true that men are the heads of the house, but at the same time, they are our BIG babies. My Hubby goes weak in the knees if I just rub his head the right way.... he he he.

My Hubby is quite impulsive and goes with what he feels in the moment, which is not a bad thing, but when you have to make a choice between buying a super expensive flashy car or a house for your family, its time to take a few steps back, right.
Wrong!
He bought the car because just the thought of it made him hot. I should have been mad, I should have scolded him, but then in a moment of clarity, you have to be grown up enough to realise that being the grown up does not mean you try to teach him a lesson for misbehaving. Instead, embrace his choice, no matter how hot the fire in your belly rages... 'Laugh out loud'.

Needles to say, we got the home after the flashy car was written off and the thrill had worn off.
Until now, he probably does not even realize the choice that I had to make in that moment, but he loved every moment in that car, and that was a memory worth giving him.

There are days when I wish my Hubby would just 'grow up', but in hindsight, our home would be pretty dull if he did and my boys would never know how to be great men if he was not the big kid he is. Even though, being the grown up has made me pretty boring, my Hubby is definitely the 'lighter' side of me. So I was right... I really did NEED him ;)

So J, this is to you, my BIG Baby... XOXO

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Simple, right?

My little handsome Superman is now a whole four years old, but his mouth just turned twenty. I knew that  having a little sister would raise some uncomfortable questions, but never did I think they would come up so soon.

We are very open about our bodies and "private parts" in our house, I just did not want my kids feeling that their nakedness and parts were something to be ashamed of. Much to my mothers dismay, we have very accurate names for those parts. I really don't think names like "flower" and "willy" really made any sense, so just imagine what the kids thought.

Many parents may not agree with my views on this, but I read a lot about it and would rather have them know their bodies for themselves at a young age, other than having people outside of our home teaching them about all they have. I can just see my mom cringing to this topic...lol

Well, since hubby works out at night a lot, I take care of the kids mostly on my own, and bathing both separately did just not make sense since I have to do it while I am busy cooking supper. Knowing that they are both in the same place and that L could call me if something was wrong with A at any time, puts my mind a little more at ease. But of course bathing them together would spark a little more interest in the different sexes than I would like right now, but what can I do?

At first L used to tell me how he and his dad are the same, and have the same "parts", which was fairly easy to explain. He understood that, and was happy that he and his dad were so closely related in those areas.
But then things took a sudden surprise turn. Here is how the conversation went:

L:       "Mommy, I need the toilet."
Me:     Helping him to sit down.
L:       "Mommy, Daddy and me are the same neh"
Me:    "Yes L" 
L:       "And mommy, we both have........, neh"
Me:     " Yes L"
L:       Taking a second to think
L:      " Mommy, so what do you and A have?"
Me:     Laughing hysterically
Hubby:   Runs to hide in the kitchen, laughing out loud.
L:       Staring at me curiously.
Me:     " Why do you ask that L?"
L:        "Mommy, me and Daddy are the same, you and A are the same, but what do you have?"
Me:      Trying to compose myself, still laughing.
Me:    " A and Mommy have ....."
L:        "Oh, okay. Mommy, Please wipe my bum"

And that is where it ended. For some reason I thought the questions were going to become more detailed in nature, and was terrified of how I was going to answer all those questions. But he is still four, needs his mommy to wipe his bum, and in that little brain of his, that was a satisfying answer, I guess.  He has asked a few times what it is called again, but never more than that. Maybe he just needed a name to associate it with, and boy and I glad he had the courage to ask me. I really would not want him to find out from some other misinformed four year old.

So this was the beginning of many years of awkward questions, and since hubby takes the first exit when the topic comes up, I will be the one answering all the not so nice to answer questions.

Simple, Right?

This Post was inspired by Mama Kat's Writers Workshop Prompt No 1. Simple.

Mama Kat's Writers Workshop

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They Call me Detective

Sitting in the car, wind blowing through my hair as I hit the bend at high speed. I pull out my pistol, climb out of the window of the car and drive using my feet. I aim for the back tire of the car I am chasing and shoot! The killers car comes to a halt and I jump back into my car and stop it, leaving skid marks behind. As the dust blows in the wind, I walk out in slow motion with the killer cuffed, in victory that I have solved the case.

This is a scene from my childhood dream. I remember always wanting to be a detective as a kid, yes I did want to be Michael Jackson's wife too, but I would then be his strong and fearless, gun toting 'Shebe,baby' of a wife. The gun fights and the mystery were what made being a detective so interesting to me. I loved the 'no uniform' code I saw on TV and the "perks" like getting to drive like a maniac and being one of the few people actually allowed to carry a gun.

Okay, so this was more of an obsession than a dream. I owned a few toy guns of my own and used to have high speed car chases with my mini cars. I mean, being a detective was the life! The best part was trying to solve the mystery. I used to come up with elaborate stories of murder and deceit, that only I could solve. It seemed like the ideal job to do.
But as I am sure you all know, these dreams often drift and I did not realize a few years later that my dreams had changed, not because I wanted them to, but because life changed direction.

So I sat on my couch one day, turned on the TV to Mnet and there I was reminded of my child hood dream, but now it was a more vivid dream and so much more sophisticated than what my child like brain had thought up so many years before. Okay, so he was not a woman and he was not even South African, but he was what I wanted to be.
They call him Grissom... Yes the very same Grissom from my much loved CSI. I was glued to the TV, not only because CSI is a great show, but because I relived my dreams in their weekly stories.The mystery, the guns, but now also the forensics, which kept me fascinated with every single episode.

CSI opened up something I had long forgotten about, a dream job I would still love to do. I could just imagine myself hunting down criminals and solving mysteries, I mean, how sexy is a woman with a gun?  What a great feeling it must be to know that you have saved so many lives by sacrificing your own to track down these disturbed people.

There is however one thing I would be weary of, as Grissom was putting on strain toward the end of CSI Las Vegas, would I be able to withstand the stresses of dealing with these dark situations? Who Knows? One thing I do know is that I have to go to check out a forensic lab before I die.

This Post was inspired by Mama Kat's Writers Workshop Prompt No 3

If you had made a career out of whatever you wee passionate about when you were ten... what would you be doing?

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If I could Change Hisory

When I thought about the topics for Mama Kat this week, none of them really stood out for me accept Prompt number 2. If you could witness (or take part in) any event in history, what would it be? Why? (inspired by Texan Mama from Who Put Me In Charge Of These Kids).

As you can tell, I am South African and man have we dealt with a lot of things in the past. Apartheid being the most prevalent thing in our past and the horrors that came with the hatred of colour, one would easily assume that it would be easy to write about. Unfortunately I don't have much personal experience with this time myself and only identify with being called names for being coloured when my parents put me in a school in a predominantly Afrikaans white suburb. It did not hurt as much to me because I did not understand the struggle, I was not there. When I hear the stories of Steven Biko, it is so strange that all that happened to him happened in this country and at the hands of people who are the very same colour of my close friends.

This time is no more to us and I went to schools where the colour lines were blurred and strive to teach my kids the equality between people. So this is not what I will write about.

When I went to Public school in grade 8, it was very foreign to me. If you have read my previous post on my Childhood label, you will know that I never attended Mainstream or even public school until my first high school year. I felt strange and awkward because there forty students in a class and I did not relate to the environment and the teachers at all. Then I met Mr C. He was assigned to be our English teacher that year. I thought he was a strange man, he had a reddish tone to his skin and an accent I had never heard before. It turned out that he was from Israel and was a pretty good teacher. He taught me something that will live with me for the rest of my life. It was not English, but something in history my mind never knew existed and the more he told the more I was drawn into the events of that time.

Hiroshima is a City in Japan that was millions of Kilometres away from where I was raised but it is a place I long to see one day. Mr C told us about the Atomic bombs that devastated the city on August 6, 1945 during World War II. The horrors that he described, people's flesh being burnt from their bones and dying in agony, really hit my core. I used to sit and think about how much these people suffered when the bomb hit the ground. The innocent children that lost their lives that day are what bother me most. Did they have to die so brutally, did they have to die at all.

The way I would if I could change the horrific day from even coming to pass would be simple. It is said that Japan was a few days from surrendering to the US and if only those few days were allowed, hundreds and even thousands of people would have been saved. I still sit and wonder how people find it in themselves to murder others, much less thousands of people. In my mind, people were born with good in their hearts, were they not, so what happened between birth and murdering someone. When Harry S Truman made the decision to drop the bombs, what his thought pattern at the time? He could not possibly have deemed all those innocent lives as a threat, could he? Was that the legacy he wanted to leave behind. I certainly wish I could have been his wife that day, to talk him into thinking more clearly because I think one life should be saved at all cost, and humanity is more important than possession.

This Post was inspired by Mama Kat's Writers Workshop

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My Childhood Label

When I was young, I never really payed much attention to what was going on around me. I loved to climb things and have fun in everything that I did. I always woke up in the morning expecting to have a busy and adventurous day. That was just me, until I turned 7. This was my second year in school and I never really thought there was anything wrong with me or the things that I did. I did get a few more lashes and scoldings than any of the other kids in school and my dad was prone to discipline me before my sister. But I was a child, you would expect a child to be naughty right?

I remember going to school with my mom one day to sit down and have a meeting with my teacher. My mom and teacher had a lengthy conversation, I still don't know about what exactly but I do know that it changed my life forever.

A week later, my mom and dad were home with me and I was taken to a specialist for some tests. I honestly had no idea what was going on at the time so just took it all in. Later in the day I was lead into a room with big machines and the nurse put this rubber thing on my head. I remember to this day how it felt on my head, and still get the sensation when I am feeling overwhelmed. I was scared as you can imagine, and still nobody had told me what we were doing at this place.

About two weeks later my mom told me that I would be going to a new school in another suburb. I was exited about the move and never really thought anything about it until my first day there. I was taken into the school office to see the Psychologist who asked me many questions and played games with me. Nothing seemed out of place until she gave me a pill to swallow. She said it would help me concentrate in class and I needed to take one every day.

It was only a few months later that I actually found out that I was diagnosed with ADD ( attention deficit disorder ) but I still had no idea what it meant. My mom used to always tell me I was too busy and had too much energy but I had no idea that the two played a roll in my ADD. Things really started to make sense in the year before I was supposed to go to high school. Our aim that year was to do well enough so that the school psychologist could recommend that we attend a 'Main stream' school. Did this mean that we were not normal? The school that we attended was not for normal pupils? What was wrong with us, with me?

This really hit me hard as only then did I understand the reasons for taking my daily Ritalin and why we had to see the psychologist once a week. I was broken and because nobody had explained all this to me, the pieces I put together made me feel like an outcast. I thought I was doing well in school and I was proud of everything I had done up until then. All of a sudden those achievements seemed like nothing because to me, when compared to a 'maistream school student', were not good at all.

Unfortunately nobody really explained what ADD meant until I had to read up on it myself years later and it was what lead me to try and express myself in other areas. I failed horribly in school but was too proud to ask for help because I was afraid to show anyone that I was 'broken'. So I struggled through school, struggled to concentrate on studying and home work. I rather found pleasure in talking to people or being the one people could come and talk to. I pretended to study and pretended to have things under control. It did not help that my parents allowed me to leave things unfinished so the minute I could not focus on one thing anymore, I was on to the next.

ADD was and still is my label. I hate it but have learned to love it. It is part of who I am and had brought me to a point in my life where I realize that I can change so many things about myself, except that. I have pushed myself to be disciplined in some area's, but studying still remains an issue. I am a self taught Photographer and am trying to learn new things every single day. I have given birth to my baby in the way I set out, thanks to my ADD. There are so many things I have done and mostly at once all because I have ADD. I am called a scatter brain and that I don't know how to slow down, but that's just it,  I don't know how to slow down. I have to be researching 3 things at once and man do I love it.

So do I regret having ADD, no, what I do regret is that there are people who always tried to make feel like less of a person because I had it.

My greatest lesson in my experience is to always tell my kids what is going on with and around them. They need to know that they are precious and that nothing they do or have should taint them.

I am still working on the stain in my head that ADD has mad me 'broken', because it has not and it will not.

This Post was inspired my Mama Kat's writers Workshop Prompt no. 1

 

 

 

 

 

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NO mom its nothing

I started this blog to write about all the events in my life and everything that effects me, this includes my family. There are a million reasons why I would not want my mom to read anything I have written here.

First of all, she hates that fact that I like to talk about my life. As far as my mom is concerned, your life is yours, and yours alone. When I told my birth story on television two weeks ago, she could just have died. If my mom had to read what I wrote about things like poop, I know she would probably not talk to me for a year. She cant even talk about having a wind for Pete sake, I could count the amount of times I saw her go the bathroom ever!!

My mom, bless her heart, is a very conservative lady. She grew up that way so I cant blame her for her misjudgements. So there are things like the ones I am writing about her here, that she would flip out over completely.

She was always aware of the issues in our house, but she did not dare utter them and if anybody brought them up, she would be far less than pleased. "Those things are not for discussion" she would say.
I am not even allowed to disclose her age because 'ladies don't talk about their age'. Well I suppose that is a good thing for her though because she most definitely does not look like her age.

So here's the deal, my dear old mom knows about the blog (sort of) but really has no idea what I write about and actually cant understand why I would want a blog, facbook account or twitter page at all.
                                        
                                            So lets home she does not read this :)

This Post was inspired my Mama Kat's writers Workshop Prompt no. 3.

Why I’m not inviting my mother to read my blog…

(inspired by Just Mom from All The Other Kids Are Doing It)

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The Worst Job Ever... To Me

There are a lot of jobs I think I would try, even if it is just for a an hour. I think I am pretty versatile in this area and would never back out for a challenge. I mean, the experience could be fun and if not, at least a warning to my kids one day.

There is however, just one thing I would die before I ever did. Ok maybe not die, and I could even be paid a Mil to do it... only for like an hour..maybe.
Just the though of it sends shivers down my spine. I mean it is the one thing my sister and me both are not too friendly with and make us very uncomfortable. I am not as vocal about how I feel as she is but I still get creaped out about it.

My dad had us do it when we were little and man was it nasty ( well because there were crossed parts.. it was torcher and something I would rather not have anyone around me do either.
Ok, trying not to hurl at the thought.
So you wonder what that one thing can be. Trust me you are in for a disappointing surprise.

Being a pedicurist is a Job I could never understand or ever do. I am so not a fan of my own feet, so why on earth would I want to touch another persons smelly, waxy and uuugly toes?

Ok so I know, it sounds ridiculous, but just think about it.

Touching someones feet is like wearing someone else's dirty underwear because you have no idea where it has been. What is worse is that feet smell really bad, I mean do you really want you hands to smell like poop...ugh!

Pedicurists and Podiatrist really have to love what they do to do it. That makes me wonder, when 'Johny' was a young boy, what made him wake up one day and think to himself " I want to work with other peoples feet for the rest of my life ". Was it the smell of his dads feet every night when he removed his shoes?

So let me warn all the feet happy people out there...

Do not dare bring your bare feet within 5 inches of me!

I don't Play footy footy for romance and would rather not like to smell you feet from across the house.

There you have it, I am sorry to all the Spa's that will lose my money for pedi's because I WILL NOT DO OR HAVE ONE DONE OK...

This Post was inspired my Mama Kat's writers Workshop - Prompt no 1.

What was it about that movie? Describe A movie you once had memorized.

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Pooty - WHO?

I have always loved movies. I used to watch action movies with my dad as a kid and particularly loved movies that were wild and crazy. My mom had to stand in front of the television set just to get my attention half the time because I would focus so much that every other unnecessary sound was blocked out.

Unfortunately, I am still like this. But now instead of the odd action movie, I have fallen in love with films that are weird in nature or have a really disturbing twist. I know, it seems strange but that's what I like.

Anyway, I have listed my favourite movies on a few occasions and a few stand out. I loved "Something about Mary" the first time I watched it, and thought nothing could beat it. Then there were films like "Unbreakable" and " The sixth sense" that had twists that had me licking the floor with my jaw. But there were two films, films that were unlike any other ever made. Films that had me captivated from the first scene, the kind you know you will never find again.

Malice: A film that came out when I was only 7 years old, but still is one of the best films I have ever seen. I love a film that leads you to believe one thing, and then changes things up on you. There is nothing like finding out that the perfect husband and wife were actually a farce, and that the life they lived was planned down to the separation. The film is really long, and you have to have the patience to get through the  first 45 min or so, but once you get past those few minutes, riveting stuff start to happen. I don't want to give to much away for those who have not seen it, but the twists are what make it such a captivating film to watch and they definitely don't leave me disappointed.

But the point of writing this was not to tell you about Malice at all. I wanted to talk about the film that I not only once had memorized, but I still have in my current memory. ( maybe that's why my memory is so bad ). A film that I went out of my way to buy,  no not on DVD, but on VHS.

When I was in High school, we were the last of the people I knew to get DSTV (Digital Satellite Television). All I used to look out for were new music video's on MTV and movies. One day I came across a film created by Chris Rock, and I was drawn in by its strange humor.

"Pootie Tang" is my top most favourite films EVER!!! Its not because of the twists or even the genius hilarity of the film. I love it for the sheer weirdness. I mean where have you ever met a guy who has his own language, that people actually understand (WADATA MY DAMIES) who women cannot get enough of. He is the coolest guy I have EVER seen. The way he pules that belt from his waist to teach the bad guys a lesson, is just beyond heroic. One of the best scenes is when he does a duet with Missy Elliot, Hellooo, he sings with Missy and she melts over him too. The great thing is, he is a guy of integrity and wants to change the lives of the TIPY TIES children for the better.  I have never and probably will never find a film that captured me as much as Pootie Tang has. I still don't understand why the video store guy was in such rush to get rid of the video. I mean it is a classic, it was probably the only film we say Wanda Sykes wearing Hot Shorts!! She is a Cold Tony....My Damie.

If you haven't seen it, go get it...YOU WILL NOT BE DISAPPOINTED!! I think....

This Post was inspired my Mama Kat's writers Workshop - Prompt no 3.

What was it about that movie? Describe A movie you once had memorized.

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A Letter to Fred Hammond...

Dear Fred,

I have known you since I was in my mothers whom. I heard you voice and danced to your tunes from the time I could stand. My family loves your music ministry since you formed Commissioned in 1982. My mom, my dad, my uncles and even my grand parents were ecstatic that a group was formed that did gospel music in a way that spoke personally to them. I remember long vacation drives, sitting on my knees, staring out of the back windshield, singing "love is the way" to the people in the car behind us...lol

I grew up to your music and my life was changed by the words you used to describe the love of your life. There was a sense of excitement in our house every time we heard of a new release, and the time we spent waiting for it to finally come to South Africa were agonising. I used to sit for hours learning the lyrics to the songs once we got the album and would always be the popular one in Sunday school because I always knew your music best.

Your music took us through dark times too. In October 2005, when you finally were coming to SA, my grandfather passed. I was in the car on my way to your first show and had no idea that my dear oupa (O paa) had gone to be with the Lord. My mom was with him when he passed and chose not to tell me since I had been waiting years for you to come to our country. She did not want to make it a sad occasion.

My entire family came to see the show on the Friday in honour of my grandad and in the words of my Uncle E "Life would not be the same if we did not go and see Fred Hammond, and dad would want us to go"

I am so grateful that I have had your music as the theme song to many events in my life. You have given me great memories to relive with my kids and now when I watch L sit and learn the lyrics to "Take my Hand"  on the 'Love Unnstopable' album, I hope that he enjoys good memories from your music as well.

Thank you for listening to the heart of God and fulfilling your destiny in the way He intended for you.

You have truly been a blessing in out lives and will probably never know it.

With the Love from our Father

M.Jay.

This Post was inspired my Mama Kat's writers Workshop - Prompt no 4.

Open letter to a celebrity.

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My Lovely Summer...

"I wake up in the morning, stretch my legs and take a walk to the balcony. I am hardly surprised by what I see in the distance outside my window. I can smell it in the air and cant wait to taste it with my toes. I know it will sooth me and cool me down, and I get exited at just thinking about taking my step first step into it." I have adored the sea since I was a young child and would drop everything just to spend time on the beach for an hour. I savour every moment I get to spend enjoying the sounds, the smell and the sand. Nothing optimizes summer like the sea.

"I take a step outside and a feeling of wamth latheres over my body, yes summer has arrived and the birds sing to the warm light, inviting it in. There is nothing like the fresh smell of plants and soil, the moist air from the night before and the wamth in the morning causing these fresh scents to swirl in the early morning rays."

The hot sun and the evening rains here in the Southern Hemisphere are telling that summer has hit our doorstep. The air smells so fresh in the morning from the rain that cleard it the night before. There is nothing more fullfilling than stepping out of the front door in the morning and being splashed with the smell of fresh plants and flowers in the.

"I walk back into the house, into the bathroom and take a quick shower. This is the part that gets me all rilled up. I take the bottle, open it and smell its contents. It smooths over my body, sweet smelling and softness which lasts all day. Its like making love for the first time, on a beautifull smmers day with the ocean so close by. This little bottle just makes it all so perfect"

Wondering what it is.... well to me the smell and feel of Lux lotion is what makes summer perfect for me. I love the way it feels and cant get enough of the smell.

My lovely summer

This Post was inspired my Mama Kat's writers Workshop - Prompt no 5.

What five images paint a perfect picture of summer to you? Put those five images together in a piece of writing. (Inspired by writingfix.com)

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Maaa!

Mummie,

From the first day I was born, you worried about me. My education, my future and my
life consumed your every thought. You are always trying to make provision for good schools
and trying to help me speak properly. I see that family and friends give you a hard time because
you are trying so hard to make us good citizens in society. And now that I am almost 4 years old
and almost all grown up, I can see that what you are trying to do is good for me. I am sorry that you have to worry about A's eyes and deal with my needs (wants) at the same time. I am sorry that I will only realize when I am older that my tantrums made you think you did something wrong.

I just wanted to ask you to take it easy, relax and enjoy us. We are safe in the Fathers hands and it is His job
to protect us and your job to love us. We are doing well thus far and we know that you only have our best
interest at heart. I would like you to just have fun with us and leave worry for other people. You are my mommie and I want to enjoy you for as long as I can.

Remember that I love you Ma!
L

This Post was inspired my Mama Kat's writers Workshop - Prompt no 1.

Dear Mommy and/or Daddy…(write a letter to yourself from one of your children)

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" Riding in car's with boys"

I had this friend whom I used to attend church with, M. We were close enough to know quite a bit about each others lives and relationships. Well she had this boyfriend, E, that was a total nerd. He wore huge goggle glasses and spoke like he did not know how to swallow his saliva lol.
Well I kept away from him while she was with him and actually could not stand the sight of him. When they broke up she was devastated but acted as if things were ok until she heard that he liked me. I befriended some of his (good looking) friends and when they came to my house, they brought him with.
We slowly got to know each other quite well but I still had no feelings for him WHAT SO EVER!

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You are in Heaven

Dear Aspen

It has been six months to the day that I felt like I was in heaven.
I went on a journey for 9 months to start my battle on the 21st of  January 2010 and only to be victorious 36 hours later. The victory was a release of the negative energy I received from doctors, friends and family over my decision to have my you at home. I had to be an advocate for you, my body and for all women who were told never to attempt a natural birth after a c section. Some days it was exhausting, I was in so much pain that a c section seemed easy, but I did it. I made it, we made it.

I laid on the hallway floor with you in my arms, daddy holding me and just embraced the moment. The calm that fell over me was amazing.

I hear people say that when you go to heaven you walk into love, that moment was the equivalent. I persevered in love, pushed in love, and today I hold you with love.

Aspen you are a constant reminder of how strong I am, how strong you made me, how heaven feels.

Happy Half Birthday my tooth fairy, I am so blessed to have you, more blessed to know you, and greatly blessed to raise you.

This Post was inspired my Mama Kat's Writers Workshop - Prompt no 4.

"How far to heaven? Just open your eyes and look. you are in heaven"-Shankar

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What would I change about my life if I could....

I love most of my life the way it is right now and have not dared to think how things would be if it were different since that would mean I would not have my kids, but if I were still to have the same ones this is what I would have changed:

I would have loved to be the sweet and good child who always listened to my parents and made them proud with the things that I did.

I would have studied harder in school, not to just pass, but to take the best of ... prize and to maybe get accepted into a university.

I should have applied for university when I finished school instead of spending the entire year dating a dead beat cannabis smoking thug and practically licking his feet.

I think the one thing I should have waited to do was having sex, I don't regret who I did it with the first time, but I do regret doing it so early in life.

I should have just dated my now husband without "trying" to fall pregnant and not knowing what the hell I was getting myself into.

Since I was pregnant at 19, I should have done more research on birth and child care, I was in a trance and just wanted it all over with, causing me to have and unnecessary C Section and I did not really bond with my son until about a year later.

I really wish I would have bought a house in a good suburb instead of the run down flat that we had to rent out when the recession hit.

We should have asked advice when we bought a car from the dealership because we just found out, three years later, that the car was in an wreckage and it in itself was and accident waiting to happen.

There are a few things I would like to change right now.
I wish I would be a good christian wife to my husband and inspire him to love the Lord like he used to.
I should be teaching my children about the Bible and God, but have put it off, for no reason in fact.
I should be applying for new jobs while I sit at my desk right now and write this lol.

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They think they know

I have made many friends over the years, good and not so good and only a few have stuck around long enough to know where and who I am today. I love to be close to people and have the habit of telling them everything about myself, or so they think. Although many of them may not believe it, I think there is a lot more to me than meets the eye, and there are some things I just sit and think about in my own time. This past weekend is the first time I shared some intimate feeling with my husband, things that I have felt for year that I never actually said out loud. The funny thing is that when I finally opened my mouth about it, I felt a little release and that I need to open up about thinks like that a little more.

My family and friends like to tell me that I am over opinionated and that I always think what I do is the best, well it may seem that way but it is not. What they don't know is that a lot of the advice I have given them does not actually come from what I think. I am so paranoid about making mistakes ( I know I cant avoid them) that I research everything. If something pops in my head, off to the Internet I go and find out what all these people and doctors I will never meet have to say on the topic. When I was younger, I gave people advice on my own accord, but experience has taught me that I ma not that good of and advisor and that there are an array of other people in the world who are educated enough to give the kind of advice needed.

I know there are times that I come across as arrogant and my sister continues to tell me that I like to push my opinions on people. What nobody really knows is that this is the only way I can make myself really heard. As a child I grew up thinking that nobody really listened to how I felt and what I needed. This is what led me to the belief that if people listen to you, and you to others, that so many issues could be dealt with head on. I am anal about listening to my kids when they need me and my panties really get into a bunch with  people who pay no attention to their children's attempts at getting their attention. Does your child really have to start smoking meth before you pick up that there is a need. These things start as early as three years old, and if we listen, our kids will learn to listen; (courtesy of Dr Phil) " we teach people how to treat us".

What I want to know is, is it so wrong to offer advice to people? In my case, the people who I give the advice to, are the ones who come and ask for it. Most of the time I have done so much research on the topic that I just know what to say. Is it arrogant to just know what to say? I think the horrible thing is that the people who want to advice are the ones that judge the advice.

At least I can say this, I don't do all this research for nothing. I want to be prepared one day when my kids come and ask me things about the world. I want to be the one that they come to because they know I listen and that my opinion never involves the statement "because I said so". People can judge me all they want for what and where I get my information but at least I am trying to be a step ahead of my ancestors and know that the advice I am giving is factually correct. Hopefully my kids thank me for it one day.

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