Blocked

Can't think, brain numb
Inspiration won't come
Bad ink, no pen
Best wishes,
Amen!

Just in case you were wondering, I am still alive and well...just haven't had inspiration to write anything. I've got ideas brewing...just thinking though.

I remember that little poem being written in my yearbook a long time ago. For some reason it came back to me when I was trying to think of something I wanted to blog about. LOL.

Stand by...will be writing soon. :)

Tragedy and Thankfulness

Last week I noticed an article on a friend's wall on facebook. The article was about a little girl named Lilly that was murdered here in the town I live in. She was murdered by her mother's boyfriend. I thought to myself, "How horribly sad...I hate hearing things like this." A few minutes later I received an email from my home school yahoo group from a lady I know (we'll call her Mary), talking about this same incident. I finally put two and two together and realized that I knew who this little girl was! Last soccer season I befriended Lilly's grandmother (we'll call her Sherry)who like me, is a home school mom. She'd bring Lilly with her to the field when her mother had to work. My son played with this little girl on several occasions while my daughter and Sherry's son would play soccer. She was beautiful and precious.
I had not seen or spoken to Sherry in several months, but immediately I called Mary, who sent out the email, and we decided we would get a meal together for this family. I called Sherry and found out she was out of town when this happened. She caught an immediate flight home to face this tragedy and a busted water pump at her house. So, not only did they need food...they needed water as well. I met Mary at Sherry's house with food. I talked with Sherry for a little while. She told me that abuse was suspected a few weeks ago and she told her daughter. Her daughter kicked the boyfriend out, only to allow him to come back after deciding she wanted to prove her mother wrong about the allegations. Well, the mother was called at work to be told her daughter was found unconscious in the bath tub and the paramedics were working on her. The boyfriend showed no emotion as all of this was happening...he didn't even ride the ambulance to the hospital. Lilly was pronounced dead at the hospital and the boyfriend was arrested for murder. Apparently there was enough evidence to suggest he committed this treacherous crime.
The next evening, I went to the funeral home. I've been to funeral homes before...usually to pay condolences to grandparents or elderly parents of friends. The youngest I've paid respects to was a 20 year old who overdosed. I thought that was hard...and it was. But, seeing a two year old baby in a miniature casket surrounded by her favorite toys...not breathing...not playing with her toys or running around, was by far the most painful experience ever. I kept thinking to myself, "This is so unatural...breathe...just breathe." Even though I knew she wouldn't breathe, I couldn't help but think this b/c that's the way it should of been. She should have been breathing. Instead, she was covered in makeup to cover bruises on her face, clothed in a dress that was much to neat for a supposed-to-be rambunctious two-year old and she was still....completely still...forever.
I told Sherry that I would send an email out to my home school group of 50+ families in order to get enough food and water to feed her family and relatives that would be staying with her for the funeral. You would think that it would be an easy task to get people to chip in a little for a family in need of so much, nevertheless, no one responded to my email. My friend who had posted the article on her facebook volunteered to help and I asked a dear friend of mine to help. Sherry called me the next morning asking me to babysit her son while they all attended the funeral. Her ten year old son didn't want his last memory of his niece to be her funeral. This worked out perfectly since I was bringing food anyway. I already knew I wouldn't be able to attend the funeral b/c of no babysitter, so I went. When tragedy strikes or people have babies...I feed people. It's my thing. I love to feed people. My job in my home school group is the meal coordinator...the position was actually made for me since I was already trying to feed people anyway. :) Even though I get frustrated at people for not wanting to help, most of the time people are still taken care of by at least a couple of people and this does my heart good. It really didn't do anything for my heart this time, however. Nothing but time will heal and justice.
Normally when I hear stories like this on the news, I'm saddened but it usually doesn't take long for me to bounce back b/c I'm not usually close to the situations. Lilly has made me think long and hard. I've been thinking about my children even more so. I've been thinking about how impatient and irrational I can be sometimes. I don't always spend my time wisely for my children. So many days here recently I've been lost in a sea of frustration with my 2 yr. old son, for his 2 yr. old ways. I haven't appreciated being a mother as much as I thought I already did. Over the past several days, I've been making a mental list of things that I'm thankful for...even some things I wasn't thankful for beforehand, have become so precious to me now.
I'm thankful for my children's health. I'm thankful to hear my son beating on his window in the morning trying to get the neighbor's dog's attention. I'm thankful for my son's temper tantrums. I'm thankful that my daughter talks my head off all the time. I'm thankful for my children's laughs. I'm thankful for my daughter's help around the house and with her brother. I'm thankful when my two year old burps in my face and thinks it's so funny. I'm thankful for the huge messes at the end of the day. I'm thankful for the fingerprints all over the glass door. I'm thankful for the poopy diapers. I'm thankful for the forgiveness that my daughter bestows upon me everyday when I mess up. I'm thankful that my daughter gets upset with me if I'm not home to tuck her in every night. I'm thankful for the raspberries that my son blows on my cheeks instead of kisses. I'm thankful for my children changing me everyday...making me a more patient person. I'm thankful for all the driving around I do to get my daughter to extracurricular activities. I'm thankful for my children being alive and well and giving me the reward of being able to love them every single day. I'm thankful to be reminded that children are the most precious creatures in the world and to never take them for granted.

*Thank you Dear Lilly for the lessons you taught in the little bit of time you spent on this earth even though not everyone knew you well. May God forever comfort you in His big rocking chair singing sweet lullabies in your ear. Rest in peace sweet little one...forever and ever.*

Needing motivation

I think perhaps, the hardest part of homeschooling is being motivated when motivation is needed. Don't get me wrong...I LOVE homeschooling with a passion that I've never had for anything else in my entire life, but nevertheless it is a blessing that has a lot of work that goes into it. I've always been the type who needs structure but at the same time I really value freespirited moments that become some of the most teachable moments in my child's education. Sometimes I'm a bit too free spirited, so I've never really embraced lesson planning, grading, or report cards. This year I am doing these things. Usually, we just go by the books and get things done when we get things done. This year I am goal setting. I want to start at a place and have some idea of where I want to stop. Even though my child does pretty well on standardized tests, I always feel like we should be shooting for excellence and not mediocracy. I want to know that I am putting my "all" into making my child's education the very best that it can be.
Another problem I'm having is I think I have entirely too much curriculum. lol. I have so much I want to do and I'm not sure if I can fit it all. I love the Charlotte Mason approach and have tried to get in a place of switching over totally but my need for textbooks and structure seem to keep from this.
These are my goals: Write down lesson plans for one month at a time, get a grade book, and get report cards just so my child has a tangible way to see how her hard work pays off.
My other goals aside from homeschooling are to get my new garden ready this week, start exercising and continue to try to get my diet under control. This is me trying to hold myself accountable! :)

Misti

In my past blog about my history, I told about how I got pregnant at the age of eighteen. Well, I'm going to tell you more about that part of my story. Many months before I got pregnant, I was living the party life. I was at clubs on the weekends...spending time with lots of guys, including my future baby's daddy. Eventually, I became so tired of this lifestyle and started asking the big inevitable question for new adults, "What do I want to do with my life?". Of course, I was feeling very guilty at this point b/c I felt like I had turned my back on my religion totally...and when someone is as devout as I was, it's only a matter of time before that someone feels the need for change. So, I did what any little southern baptist chicky would do and went straight to christian counselors. I called a hotline and talked with someone. I told the person that I wanted to travel and bring glory to God. The counselor said, " Why not mission work?". So, I approached the missions minister at my church and he signed me up for a trip to Guatemala. At this point Omar, my daughter's father, had disappeared (as he did on many occasions)for quite a while. So, my little addiction to him could be put on the back burner. So, of course I became quite popular in the college ministry amongst my peers b/c I was doing the Lord's work. I went to Guatemala, came back, gave my testimony to my peers. A few weeks later, I was driving to the grocery store and lo and behold who do I see on a bicycle? It was Omar, the test I knew that God was throwing before me. I was determined to "witness" to him this time...but, well you know what happened next...I failed God's test with flying colors and I got pregnant. Not only had I immersed myself in mission work...signing up for another trip to Guatemala, I was also teaching Sunday school to middleschool students. lol. I was also in college. Well, next came the big confession. I told my church leaders, and my peers about my "sin" and they all were super supportive in their own way. As a matter of fact, they told me that I should start attending the Unwed Mothers Sunday school class (which by the way took place in the basement of the church)hmmm. Well, it was there I met many different pregnant girls...pregnant thirteen year olds, Florence Crittenton girls, ex-druggies, girls who had already given a couple of children up for adoption and pregnant again, and little girls from suburbia (like me)that just plain got knocked up. It was there that I met a girl named Misti. She was several years older than me. She had been horribly abused all her life and she was a druggy who had stopped b/c she was pregnant. She was also an ex-prostitute and an ex-stripper. I thought she was super nice and very funny. When she talks, all you hear is color in her speech...whimsy even. She wore do-rags and had a tatoo of Taz....to go along with her tongue ring. She was from Massachusetts and came to NC where she had lived long ago. She was impregnated by a guy in prison and was living at Florence Crittenton. She would go back and forth between Massachusetts and NC...and she was due to have her baby about a month later than mine. She came back not long after I had my daughter, in preparation to have her kid. The doctors found out that I contracted a disease that could hurt my daughter so they took me by C-section in order to prevent her getting it...but told me to be on lookout for symptoms anyway. Well, my daughter began to run a fever and the doctors took immediate action. At the time I had no one really to support me b/c my parents were in the middle of separating and I was staying with a friend who was about to go out of town. My Sunday school teacher called Misti (I didn't know it) to tell her that my daughter was being taken to the hospital immediately and that I needed someone to be there for me. Even thoough Misti didn't know me well, she came to the hospital and was waiting in the hospital room before I even got there. I was in tears and so ashamed at myself, but there Misti was to comfort me. Well, my daughter stayed in the hospital for days but she was ok in the end. Well, Misti had her baby and I was there at the hospital for her. After that, we hung out together a lot and I even kept her son for her while she worked. When I went into a program to help single mothers, it was her place that I took b/c she got kicked out for not following the program...sometimes I think that I took the future that God had planned for her. I told her that many years later and she smiled at the thought. Well, after she got kicked out of the program, she returned to Massachusetts and met a man who wanted her to be his playdoll. He wanted her to change her name, change her look and he did not want her kid. Misti will claim that she didn't abandon her son for this man but I know she did. She took her son to her mother and ran away with this guy. I kept up with her through phone, and begged her to get her son back. She didn't like this so we stopped talking for years. Her mother died, and so Misti took her son to her brother in Florida. After several years, he was tired of taking care of Misti's son and told her she needed to pick him up. Well, after she picked him up, she came to NC and stayed with me for a few days. Her son is just a beautiful boy full of goodness and I am scared of what will happen to him. Misti told me how she'd been prostituting again with her boyfriend's blessing, b/c he stayed home while she worked. She had gotten lapband surgery b/c her boyfriend didn't like fat girls. She vomited every few minutes while she was staying with me. Well, I told her that if she was in trouble and decided that she couldn't be a mother, that she should bring her son to me. She was thankful.
Well, in the past few weeks, she finally broke up with the big loser only to take another one in and she is very obsessed with him (she's a relationship addict). She told me that she leaves her 9 yr. old son home alone (home is a motel by the way) in the bad part of town in Las Vegas to have "private" time with her new boyfriend that she met at a Narcotics Anonymous meeting. I flipped out on her and basically told her that she's nuts for doing this and begged her not to do it again. She told me I had a right to my opinion but she felt like there was nothing wrong with what she's doing. I was in tears thinking about how often her son is home alone and thinking about the mess he will surely be b/c of living with Misti. She told me that even though I'm home with my kids that anybody could just break in to my house and kill us on the spot and I'd have no control over this. She said she would have no control over anything happening to her son, so there's no point in her worrying about it. This is how she justifies leaving her child alone at home. Well, I told another friend about this and she told her husband. Now my friend's husband is criticizing me for not calling any authorities. Well, I don't know her address and I'm pretty sure she'd run if she got any tip on this. It's not against the law in Nevada to leave a child that age alone at home but it is "frowned upon", so chances are that she might not get in trouble anyway. So, I feel like the only option I have is to keep the lines of communication open with her, and hopefully be a voice of reason to her. Am I doing the wrong thing? I just do not know what to do. I truly care for her and her child and am afraid of what the future holds for the both of them if Misti keeps going in the wrong direction.

A late night talk with my brother

It's been a little while since I've had the opportunity to sit down and blog...which is kind of a good thing b/c I'm like a shaken soda bottle about to blow. I've got so much to say, so it's gonna take a few blogs to get it all out...so more reading for your pleasure...er not. lol.
Well, this past week has been very interesting nonetheless. First, my brother Paul came into town. He spent the night with me the first night. I waited late for him while everyone else was sleeping. We went to grab some highly caffeinated drinks and brought them back here to my house and started talking. We got on the subject of religion. Well, before I go on, I should tell you that my brother has always mocked my religion when he's mad at me...and has always basically called me ignorant. Well, the past couple of years he hasn't even known that my belief system has been challenged and greatly changed as a result of it. I began to tell him how some of my beliefs have changed and how it irritated me when he would mock religion in front of me b/c he didn't take the time to even find out what I believe. We talked about scientific things such as evolution...The Flood, alternate universes, genetics, ionization, all kinds of crap. I told him at this point, I'm not sure what I believe, but that I still believe in a creator. He told me, "Well, I can respect what you're saying now." This is a BIG statement for him considering he can be a bit arrogant sometimes...a little bit of a know-it-all. I truly feel like we have bonded.
At the same time, I have to admit I am a bit melancholy. I feel like a threshold has been crossed. For the longest time, I had prayed that my brother would come to his senses and become a believer in God. I've always maintained my spirituality in front of him b/c I was afraid of chancing that I may be the only one who could be the light as far as ever affecting his belief system...or system of non-belief. Well, now the cat is out of the bag and I'm pretty sure that he feels even more smug about his "rightness" about all things scientific and spiritual. I am being sarcastic about this, because I do still believe in God, but b/c I'm not sticking with my old beliefs it's kind of the same as not believing, probably, from my brother's view point. As for me, a part of me does wonder according to my old beliefs if I have been a stumbling block for my brother and if I will be held accountable for his faith before God. Well, I suppose I'll know when I die....lol.