Mom in a Blender

The life of a mom is like living in a blender

Broken Buddha

I have a Buddha statue that has been standing at my front door for 13 years. I have Buddha’s throughout my house. To me buddha represents tranquility and love.

Through the years my Buddha has weathered the seasons well. So much so I took photos of Buddha titled seasons of Buddha. Buddha covered in snow with an extra dollop of snow on the top knot. Buddha in the heat of the summer and in the fall surrounded by falling leaves. Buddha in the spring with fresh shoveled mulch.

It has not always been pleasant for Buddha and I. Try as hard as I could to protect my Buddha he’s been broken.

One night at 9:30 one of my daughters came rushing into the house asking me for tape. Another daughter came rushing in asking for glue. I knew something happened, but man was I for a surprise. My kids went back outside and I naturally followed. Apparently, when my kids took out our dog the leash of the dog wound around Buddha, Buddha fell and Buddha’s head fell off. I was horrified! My girls wanted the tape and glue to try to fix my beloved Buddha. All I kept saying was Buddha, Buddha, Buddha. My kids just laughed but knew the seriousness of the situation and promised to fix Buddha back.

The next morning in the clear of the day I saw Buddha’s head was attached but there was a hole in his head, he was missing a finger and he was chipped. Oh well I thought to myself, he’s still Buddha.

I love my Buddha so much when I leave donations on my porch I attach a note to Buddha that states Buddha stays or I just bring him into the house.

The other day was extremely windy. As I was leaving the house I received a text from my daughter suggesting I bring in Buddha because of the wind. I texted her back great idea! I opened the door and saw Buddha had been knocked down. A few feet away was Buddha’s head. Oh no! Not again! I carefully picked up the headless statue and the head and brought it inside. I texted my daughter Buddha’s head fell off. My daughter texted me back we can glue the head back on. I am going to leave that assignment to my kids.

I look at my broken Buddha and think to myself my Buddha may be broken but it’s still my Buddha and we will be ok.


Moldy Donut

I have always loved reading. Reading is my escape. As a child I read books and escaped into the lives of imaginary families where dysfunction was no where to be found. At the time I never knew the term dysfunction, but I knew I was living in a dysfunctional family. I don’t read as often as I used to. Life gets in the way I suppose or maybe I get in the way.

It’s funny how reading, or seeing something can trigger a memory. After Lord knows how long I started reading a book that was given to me titled What Alice Forgot. I am already hooked, captivated. I suddenly recalled a memory stuffed into my distant past of when I was pregnant with my youngest child.

When I was oh 7 or 8 weeks pregnant I was out of town on a mini vacation. I stopped off at a market and bought some discounted donuts. Who doesn’t love a discount or donuts? I decided I would eat one of the donuts the next day for breakfast. A nice little treat I told myself. The next day as planned I started to eat a donut and about more than half way through I noticed the donut was moldy. Oh shit! I thought to myself. What have I done? Is my baby ok? I panicked. I went through a lot to get pregnant. I was so terrified about what that mold would do to my growing fetus.

Women get pregnant but that is just a tiny step in the long journey of motherhood. We must take care of ourselves in hopes of doing what is right for our baby. We must labor and deliver and then the difficult caring…

The moldy donut had zero effect on the baby thank God and I went on my merry way through pregnancy, labor, and delivery. My pregnancy was rife with complications. Mainly from my child’s father.

Looking back, all I can do is laugh at my silly fear of a moldy donut when in actuality I needed to fear the father of my baby. I really want to cry, but I am strong and know crying will do nothing.

My child is 6 ½ years old and her father will not let me see her. I don’t understand people. I don’t understand people who hurt people. My child is an extension of me. I am like a mother bear. My child’s father says if I want to see my child I must fight him in court. Fight him I say? Why should I have to fight him to see my child? I don’t understand the concept of fighting. In a fight there is a loser.

I think back to how silly I was with that donut. Thank God the mold was harmless. I have found in life it is silly to fear things and it’s people I need to fear. I love all people but it seems not all people love me. Those who profess their love to me end up hurting me more deeply than I could ever imagine.

Thank God for books… Read more…


Suicide is heartbreaking. Living loved ones are left wondering why. Suicide committers are often called selfish. I disagree. When I was a child I wanted to commit suicide. My mother abused me so terribly I felt if I committed suicide I would not hurt anymore. The hurt was so bad I thought death would be better. I am glad I did not commit suicide but I have an understanding of what suicide committers are dealing with.

When a person is abused they are never the same. They may turn to drugs, or alcohol or anything else to try to numb the pain they feel. Speaking for myself I learned to cope with the events of my life, but those events still linger. I know people knew about my abuse and did not help me. That hurts. I think if only someone helped me maybe my life would have been better.

When I am around family members who knew about my abuse and they do not seem to try to understand where I am coming from in explaining my feelings I feel like a lone soul on an isolated island. I expect suicide committers probably feel that way. It gets frustrating when you try to explain why you feel the way you feel and no one gets it. I am sure inside they wonder what is wrong with you people? Why can’t you get yes I am functioning, but a part of me still hurts and will always hurt?

I don’t think it is selfish to take your own life because often times suffering people are selfless trying to keep it together to make everyone else happy when they themselves are suffering and finally they say I want to think of myself for once. It gets tiring trying to live the way everyone expects you to live.

I hate we live in a world where people commit suicide. I hate we live in a world where people bully, intimidate and threaten. Not only did my mother abuse me but my ex husband constantly threatens and intimidates me to the point I am afraid he will try to kill me or be happy if I committed suicide. I won’t give him or anyone else that satisfaction. I love living and life too much.

The point of this post is not to glorify suicide but maybe really try to listen with empathy to people who are suffering. Sometimes that is what helps. When I speak to someone who was abused I easily identify with their pain. I tell them I am so glad they are alive. When a person just cannot take it anymore, they know it. It’s not selfish or giving up or quitting but that person taking control of their time. I bet my opinion is not popular but as someone who experienced the thought of suicide but did not I knew it was not my time. My idea of happiness is not the same as another’s idea of happiness. Things are often never what they seem. My hope is instead of judging people we work harder to empathize with people and truly listen to help. It is possible and there is always hope…


Through the fire

I have been listening to Joel Osteen since 1999. From the first few seconds of listening to Joel I knew he had a special talent with preaching the word of God. I grew up in an environment where you were damned to hell if you sinned and to follow the Ten Commandments. I struggled with the sinning as I am a sinner and realized everyone is a sinner and the commandment of honoring your mother and your father.

First off, I was adopted. Second my adopted mother tried to kill me and my adopted father was never home. I always thought how can this woman who claims to be a born again Christian try to kill a child of God and expect that child to honor her? I did try to honor her and I did countless times forgive her for the pain she inflicted upon me.

This is where Joel and his preaching come in. Joel has spoken about the three teenagers Shadrach, Meshach and Abednego being thrown into a fiery furnace hands bound because they would not bow down to a false idol. Their faith in God was so strong they did not even try to save their live’s but bravely faced death than to betray God. I love this story because their faith brought them through the fire. They were thrown in the furnace and in the natural they should have burned to death, but in the supernatural they lived.

I write this because I came through many fires and the only way I can say I survived was by having faith in God and knowing God has a plan for me and He has a plan for everyone. As a child I was little. Not much has changed as today I am only 5 feet tall. When I was 5 my mother came to my room one day and grabbed me hard. She dragged me down to the basement. Our basement as dark and scary. Mother dragged me to the dryer and in horror I knew what she was about to do. I fought as hard as I could but mother was amazingly strong. I was fighting for my life. That’s a common theme of my child hood. Fighting for my life. I lost the fight against my mother and she successfully put me in the clothes dryer and closed the door. It was then I felt the dryer start to turn and I was tumbling around so afraid. I looked in the back of the dryer and saw it was so hot it turned orange. That was my last memory of the dryer. As an adult I know God allowed me to go in the fire and He brought me through the fire. Not one burn.

My child hood was one giant hell of a fire God brought me through.

I know faith is difficult to explain but all I can say for myself is walking by faith and not by site has gotten me far. I have stumbled along the way, but I get right back up and try not to stumble again.

I do believe my child hood was robbed from me and because of this I still have that child like faith. I am kind of like Peter Pan never wanting to grow up.

So what’s my point? God is everywhere and even though bad things happen to everyone that is life. Dig in your heels and stay in the light and forgive. God may allow you to in the fire but He will also bring you through the fire and it’s going through the fire that will make you stronger than you ever thought possible.



I have been a Survivor fan for many years. Not as many years as the show has been on, but many years just the same. I love the social intricacies of the game players and still get shocked by blind sides. I have seen some crazy moments on the show. The craziest was the season where one of the players destroyed the rice. That changed when I saw the episode where Zeke was outed by Jeff Varner as transgender. I was so emotional I cried. I looked in Zeke’s beautiful sad, shocked eyes and just wanted to hug him.

I am a mom and I have this habit of calling everyone my kids and saying I love all people. I truly do love all people and as much as Survivor is a game with a chance to win a million dollars which is a lot of money, is that money worth hurting people on such a personal matter? Clearly, it is not.

I was so happy to see the reactions of support of Zeke from his fellow cast mates. I know Jeff Varner felt bad and I bet if he could go back in time and change what he said he would.

In my history watching Survivor I have never seen that kind of tribal council where it was clear who needed to go home. At the end of the day Zeke is a beautiful person of God, as is Jeff and everyone.

Now let me address forgiveness. God wants us to forgive others as he forgives. Sometimes that is easier said than done. Jeff Varner betrayed Zeke and millions of people witnessed this betrayal. The silver lining is we got to see compassion from those in the group. The silver lining is hopefully the world can grow to accept people from all walks of life. That is what life is about. Acceptance and love and understanding.

In a sense what Jeff Varner did was bullying and childish and it backfired on him. We can learn from Jeff. We can learn that maybe even if we are playing a game, perhaps play fair. Sometimes when you lose sight of what really matters you are the loser.

On an upbeat note I look forward to the rest of Survivor and I am excited to see who will win. As of now I don’t have a favorite, but all the players are brave and I wish them the best! If I could hug everyone in the world I would! God Bless!


Knowledge is Power

The mind is like a garden. I am not a gardener but I am a witness to the beauty of gardens. Maintaining a garden requires hard work. Tilling the land, planning, planting the seeds, watering the seeds, protecting buds from threats such as drought, cold, insects, and animals. The hard work produces a beautiful finished product.

Now how is the mind like a garden? I tell anyone who will listen knowledge is power. The knowledge we learn is the planting of the seed. To make the seed grow we must learn more. The sky is the limit. Our minds can be cultivated with beauty or junk. The choice is ours. My favorite gardens are filled with flowers and butterflies. Those gardens make me smile. I have never seen a garden of weeds and dead things and thought to myself wow that is beautiful.

The news is filled with so much negativity, junk. I don’t need to read about it to know it exists. I don’t need to cultivate my mind with negativity as I feel it would take away what I am trying to accomplish. I come from negativity. My mother tried to kill me. I lived my child hood afraid my mother would kill me. Thank God she failed.

I am reading a book called 3 Things Successful People Do by John C. Maxwell. I am planting the seeds to make my mind the most beautiful garden for me. The three things are so simple. Finding your purpose, reaching your potential in your purpose and sowing seeds that benefit others.

I always knew I had a purpose. From my early child hood days sitting in the dark basement after my mother pushed me down the stairs I would look up and see light that comforted me in the dark and knew I survived because there was a purpose for me. Call it hope, but I call it God.

Fast forward to today. One Saturday I started listening to a Podcast called The Positive Head Podcast hosted by Brandon Beachum. The opening theme I heard this man say my purpose is love. He did not care who knew but he knew and I started to cry and thought eureka that is my purpose too. To love! I always tell people I love them not really understanding that was my purpose! Sometimes I am slow. 43 years slow! Brandon interviewed Kute Blackson and wow what an interview! I am inspired there are people in the world who spread light in the midst of the dark.

Now back to success…Success is in all of us. We all face adversity. Never give up. Feed your mind with knowledge that will help you so you can help others. That is what it is about. Knowledge is power…

Just a game

I am not a football fan. I am not a fan of any sports. No particular reason, I just don’t follow any teams. I understand the team aspect of sports and the motivational aspect of sports and coaching. I did not watch the super bowl.

My family is sports crazed. Mainly football crazed. They all have their favorite team. Their favorite team was not in the super bowl and as soon as the game started I started getting group texts on my phone from family members. The recurring theme of the texts was hatred of the patriots and Tom Brady. I am neutral as again I am not a fan. I did not put my two cents in as I had nothing to add to the text trail.

I did not want to hear my phone buzzing all night so I put my phone on do not disturb. The day after the game I saw I had 38 unread texts. For entertainment purposes and to get thoughts and to find out who won I started scrolling through the texts. I was surprised to see the texts went from football and hating Tom Brady to POLITICS! One family member texted first the republicans win and now the patriots! Oh the horror. The worst text was from an uncle who texted if he were around Donald Trump he would blast his brains out. Reading this sickened me beyond belief. My uncle served in Vietnam and he is proud of this. I am proud of all who serve in the military. I am not proud of killing in general. One family texted God takes care of everything.

God does take care of everything. I find people who say that don’t always believe it, but that is where blind faith comes in. I texted to the family, yes God does take care of everything and it’s just a game and the comment about blowing someone’s brains out is not appropriate.

I drove to work crying, yes I am emotional. Not one person responded to my text. How odd I thought. Did I strike a nerve? Is it ok to curse a football team and talk about violence but when I contribute my thought nothing? After a few hours I was still bothered so I texted them to please leave me off the texts. I stated I don’t like to be around negativity. I stated we should celebrate the win, whoever won, football is an American past time. Congratulate the winning team.

My cousin texted me on a single text stating the group text is a way to connect with family. I texted back a text of someone stating they wanting to blast someone’s brains out is not healthy. My cousin retorted my uncle is passionate about his team. I said his comments were extreme and anyone who thought otherwise may need to get their head examined.

I have a history with this uncle. He is my mother’s brother. My mother physically abused me as a child and her family knew but did nothing. Whenever I bring this up everyone goes silent. It’s like they think I will forget what happened, or that if no one talks about it the memories will just disappear. It’s the dirty little secret of the family. One of many. I heard my uncle recently said, my mother could not help herself, she was sick and everyone should feel sorry for her. Wow, I thought to myself upon learning this. My poor mother was so sick she took knives after a little child and kicked her and punched her and was a monster but everyone should feel sorry for her because she was sick. God takes care of everything…

My point is there are some very disturbed people in the universe. Not just in politics but homes all over. Life is what you make it and it is survival of the fittest. I recently read a story of a mom who kicked her child for not brushing her teeth. The child died. She was four. When I read these stories I think that child could have been me. People in my family want to sweep away what happened to me like it did not happen. I was forced to be quiet as a child but today I will not be quiet. I will not be quiet to ease another’s discomfort over how I was treated.

There is way too much turmoil in the world and I am happy I can speak up for myself and boldly state it is never ok to state you want to blast someone’s brains out.

God bless America and God bless the world and God bless the patriots!


Sexual Harassment

For as long as I can remember I have been sexually harassed. During the election mudslinging as I call it and the revelations of Donald Trump sexually harassing women through the years and all the uproar around the allegations I found myself reflecting on my own experiences with men through the years.

Unfortunately, we live in a world where people harass each other. People harass each other for having different opinions, different skin color, outrageous I know, harassment for who they love and harassment just for gender. It’s sad really…

I won’t go into all the times I have been sexually harassed as there is no point. I will go into a few recent instances that left me feeling sick to my stomach.

I am an attractive woman. I cannot lie and say I am ugly. I happen to have a large busom. It is what it is. I work for a company where we achieved a prestigious award. For achieving this award the company threw a big celebration for everyone in the company at a very nice venue. We were required to dress nice for the occasion and I wore I pretty blue dress with heels. The dress I chose showed some cleavage but nothing outrageous as the venue was professional. I dress classy regardless as I am a 43 year old mom of three.

The event took place on a Monday during working hours so the workday started off as usual and then everyone would eventually proceed to the event. During our Monday morning kickoff everyone talks about their weekend and what they did. One male coworker talked how he took his wife out and how they had a really nice week end together. I listened to him talk and I remarked to myself how nice to have spent a nice weekend with his spouse. I was so very happy for him, for them.

A couple hours later this coworker and I happened to be walking side by side and he put his arm around me as what I thought was a warm gesture as we have worked together for years and he whispered to me, “one day I would really love to grab your breasts.” Wow I thought and shrunk away. I was so bothered and felt so let down as I thought how could he talk about the great time he had with his wife and then disrespect her and me at the same time? I said nothing. That’s what many of us do…

A couple months after this happened I came to work wearing an orange skirt. I love fashion! I love dressing pretty and wearing high heels. I received many nice compliments on my orange skirt and one that just well, again left me feeling sick to my stomach. A different married coworker who I have known for years liked my orange skirt so much he offered me $500 to have sex with him! I told him that would make me a prostitute which I am not. I was so bothered by what he said. This actually happened around the allegations about Donald Trump came out.

I thought long and hard about the remark from my coworker and the next day we happened to be alone in the office I asked him if I could speak to him. I told him how his comment made me feel. I asked him how he would feel if his wife came home and told him someone made that comment to her. He really had no idea how hurtful the comment was or harassing. He believed he was giving me a compliment which I believe he really thought. He felt so awful and thanked me for opening his eyes and he meant it.

Both of those instances I could have gotten those men fired but I happen to be forgiving and recognize when it comes to men and women the thinking and behavior is different and sometimes instead of attacking we must have a conversation.

I am not married and I am often getting approached by married men who see me as this beautiful woman and want to give me pleasure. They do not seem to understand why would I want a married man to give me pleasure? How can I take pleasure in deceit? The thought is the exact opposite of pleasure. I am not on this earth to be a married man’s escape or his fantasy. Yes, it is flattering men find me attractive. No I will not sleep with them or allow them to touch me or pay me for sex because they find me attractive. I just think of their poor wives at home. I would not want my spouse taking me out for dinner and then going to work harassing women…

That’s just my two cents.


Come as you are

I believe racism, discrimination, and hatred or any kind of exclusion or mistreatment of anyone is ridiculous.

I was born to a Caucasian woman and an African American man. I cannot help who I was born to anymore than my hair or eye color or even my height. It is what it is. I accept this. Many in my path do not.

The day I was born my Caucasian mother gave me up for adoption. Raising a African American baby in the south in 1973 was just not acceptable.

I was adopted into an African American household. A household where my adopted mother’s family hated me. They hated me because my birth mother was Caucasian. Why hate a baby or anyone for that matter for any reason, especially for something beyond their control?

Growing up my African American adopted mother always talked about the struggles of African Americans and always talked poorly of Caucasian people and tried to make me feel like I was less of a person because my birth mother was Caucasian. My African American adopted mother abused me physically and emotionally for years.

I have never and will never think less of my birth mother because she is Caucasian. I will never think less of my African American adopted mother because she is African American. I view all as people. I love all as people. They are who they are, it is what it is.

I cannot hate where I came from because I come from black and white.

I believe too many people dislike what they do not know. I believe we can all learn from each other if we just take the steps to educate instead of immediate hate.

I recently watched a documentary on HBO about transgender people. I watched to educate myself on transgender because I always say knowledge is power. I looked at the beautiful people speaking of their experiences and smiled because I simply saw beautiful people expressing thoughts and feelings. God’s children. I thought to myself what would it matter to me if a person was born a girl and felt they were really a boy or if a person decides to dress as feminine one day and masculine another? Who am I or anyone to say that is wrong? Live and let live. Be happy. It’s so simple but so many live complicated and in their complication they lash out with hatred. Love is the path…

I thank God I did not grow to hate my Caucasian birth mother or Caucasian people because I would have hated myself. A piece of me. I am glad I did not grow to hate my African American adopted parents and their families because my birth father is African American and I would have hated myself. A piece of me.

The world would be a better place with less hate and more tolerance and acceptance. Instead of looking at people and labeling them abominations or less than human or not worthy, it would be amazing if we could look at people as just what they are. People trying to circumvent this crazy world just like everyone else.

Live and let live, come as you are and enjoy the ride of life!

God Bless!



Blissful morning listening to Joel Osteen. God Bless everyone❤

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