Thanksgiving

Every day is thanksgiving for me. Every day is an opportunity for people to give thanks. Every night before I go to sleep I recite the Now I Lay Me Down to Sleep poem. I have recited this poem in my head for God knows how long. When I get to the part where if I should die before I wake I recite it with conviction because there is no guarantee I will wake up and if by chance I don’t I do pray the Lord my soul to take. So the next morning and each and every morning after that I give thanks to God for my life. I listen to people who are down in the dumps and though I cannot make anyone feel better I tell them at least you are alive.

I have my good days and bad days and sometimes I am down in the dumps, but I am thankful for the sun. My God, I love the sun! I am thankful for my job. I love my job and I love my coworkers. I support many people and I juggle many balls and sometimes I get so frustrated because I get overwhelmed trying to give all that I can to support these people. Just when I am at the bottom of despair and frustration I get a “thank you for all you do” or someone brings me lunch or my favorite muffin and I feel thankful for getting thanks.

I am a simple person. I appreciate the little things in life like the sound of mommy from my happy baby, or a surprise batch of brownies made from my daughter decorated with hearts.

I hate feeling sorry for myself, but sometimes I do. It’s the times when I am feeling sorry for myself something or someone comes along to snap me back to reality and thankfulness.

On this day of Thanksgiving and every day I am thankful for my children, I am thankful for the shining sun, I am thankful for my one true friend in this world and she knows who she is and I am thankful for life.

So tonight when I go to bed I will do the same routine of reciting that poem or prayer and hope that if I die before I wake, God will take my soul.

Happy Thanksgiving!

Over and out 🙂

Crazy…

My children think I am crazy and I agree with them. I think we are all crazy in some way. I am an even tempered person. I have a tremendous amount of patience, but sometimes my patience gets pushed to the limit. My children drive me to the brink of insanity sometimes, but I guess that is what children do. I am sure I sound like a broken record to my hippie chic daughter. Every day I tell her to brush her teeth, take a bath, put on deodorant, and brush her hair. I don’t think that’s too much to ask of a ten year old. She also has chores like to put the recycling outside and to clean her dishes. She is no Cinderella by any means.

One day when I got home from work I asked my hippie chic daughter to take a bath and brush her teeth. A while later I asked her if she had done what I asked. She said no and I asked her why. Her response was I forgot. WTF! I blew up at her; I just don’t understand how she could forget to do two simple things I asked. As I was yelling at her she just looked at me like I lost my mind. That really burns me up. I don’t spank because I know my children think my spankings are funny. I also don’t think spanking is an effective form of punishment.  I tried to appeal to my daughters emotions by saying if a friend asks her to do something, she never forgets. I just want her to feel a little gratitude for her mom who takes her here, takes her there, buys her lunch at school, and gives her shelter.

My appeal did not work for the next day I learned from my older daughter that my hippie chic daughter said mommy needs some “happy pills” and she laughed at me. I will not say anything to my hippie chic, but my feelings are hurt. I hope one day she will see maybe I am crazy, but perhaps she contributes to my craziness…

Over and out 🙂

Writing

When I was younger I never thought I would be a writer. I hated writing. Perhaps I was too embarrassed to have people read what I wrote about. When I was a child my mother had a copy of the book Mommy Dearest. That book had a lot of meaning to me because I lived my own Mommy Dearest. That book made me think one day I would write my own book. I always loved to read. I believe stories help us identify with others and help us get through life. Through the years I have tried to write about the events of abuse at the hands of my mother, but I always thought my writing was too bitter, my words so filled with acid. There is no sugar coating of abuse though and sometimes I do feel bitter. To this date I have not documented anything worth people reading. I am still trying to figure out how to convey the message.

When I started college I learned I had to write many papers. Oh crap! I thought to myself because I never thought of myself as a writer. As those first days of college went on my fellow class mates told me what a great writer I was. The positive praise I received helped push me to enjoy writing. When people hear good things about themselves, it helps motivate. I became motivated. I will never forget the first paper I wrote. The paper was about Gays and Lesbians and their acceptance in society. In doing my research on the topic I was saddened and outraged to learn children who are gay or lesbian who do not have acceptance from their parents commit suicide. I wish I could hug all those children and be the one to tell them someone out there accepts them for who they are. If a parent does not accept their children, I am sure the thought is who else will? I wish parents would see that being hard on children may lead to such actions of suicide and feeling sorry after the fact does not help. I myself wish I could be a source of comfort to kids who feel alone as I often felt alone growing up.

In my opinion, the more people write the more people will read and learn there are people out there who do experience the same thing and it’s better to live to tell about it. I encourage my daughter to write or blog to get her to see she is not alone. Someone out there is facing the same struggles as her and with writing she may reach someone. She may be helpful and she may be helped.

Over and out 🙂