MY KIND OF KIDS

  I don't have the kind of kids that pictures of them are posted on Facebook with captions below that read, "I'm so proud'.  They aren't holding giant trophy's with a little comments below that says, "My kid Rocks"
God didn't give me those kind of kids. Instead,  He gave me kids that cause me heartache, and pain, and sorrow, and quite frankly, every effort I can possibly muster.  I'm not talking about my little one of course.  She still loves her mama.  Little kids love their mama!  Thank God for that.  It's when they grow up that they become a problem.

My friends & family tried to warn me.  They did.  They used to say, "your boys are so good, wait until they become teenagers".  I didn't believe them.  My standard answer was, "not my boys."  My boys were angels when they were little.  And then,  they became teenagers.

My boys are 21 and 22 now.  Maybe if I had help with them things would be different.  But things aren't different, and quite frankly I'm tired!  One of my sons is in the hospital and has been for 6 months now.  If you've read my blog before you know this.  The good news is, he is getting better.  I believe that putting him in the hospital saved his life.  I should say that God saved his life, because the actual procedure for getting him in the hospital literally brought me to my knees.  I didn't think I could do it, and pretty much had a breakdown getting him there.  I was literally throwing up in the bushes while the ambulance & police and Orange County M.H. were all standing around telling me I was doing the right thing.  It was an ordeal!  The last 6 months have not been easier.  Everyday trips to the hospital.  Watching him get better, then slipping back.  Days full of prayer and anguish and crying, and more prayer.  It's been an emotional roller coaster and I am definitely  ready to get off.

My other son, well he is 21 now.  He just recently got his first job!  No, He has never had a job prior to this, nor was he going to school.  He was pretty much doing nothing but irritating the shit out of me. Nagging at him never worked.  Being nice never worked.  Taking away his 'stuff'  never worked.  Not giving him money never worked.  He said he didn't need money.  He said, "Jesus, used to walk with no shoes, and I will too."  I finally said to him in a very calm, 'I'm not going to get mad voice', "yes son, you have to have a J.O.B. to live here.  You HAVE to either go to school or have a job or both. period"  That was my repeater sentence. The sentence I just keep repeating over and over again.  And I did.  For two years. I stopped giving him money unless he EARNED it.  Go clean my car, clean the bathroom etc. etc.  Maybe I should have done that years ago.  I'm sure I should have done that years ago.  But never the less, he has a job now.  However, with that job comes a rotten stinking attitude.  Im so over it!  My younger son has always been the sweetest kindest person on the planet.  It's like the devil has over taken him.  He's just a jerk now, and I can't stand it!  I'm sorry to talk about my kid like that, but I'm serious!  I wonder if I'm the only one that ever feels like this about their kids?

Lastly, my little girl is only seven.  I have already taken her to apply for jobs!  Anytime she gets an attitude with me it's off with her head!

I will continue to be the mother that I am supposed to be, and continue to pray for patience and guidance.  Lord Help Me!

THE TRUTH HURTS

For those of you who don't know: I am not available to get caught up in your crazy, chaotic life. I am also not available for obsessive, stalker men. I am not available for drug addicts, drunks, or abusive people. I am however, available as a good friend who will tell you exactly how it is. If your are NOT looking for honesty, then please don't call me. #thetruthhurts

GO AHEAD. THROW ANOTHER WRENCH

  Therapy and God saved my life.  Seriously.  Some people don't believe in therapy.  I guess it's not for everyone.  For me, I HAD to have someone who I could bounce my thoughts off of.  Not a friend or family member.  I just didn't have any family I could talk to about things that were going on in my life.  My family is of the old school where we just 'handle things' and not talk about them.  My friends are super biased-Thank God.  And they just tell me what I want to hear, as all good friends should.

My therapist.  She was a different story.  Sadly she has moved on to a bigger and better job and I'm finding that I miss her dearly.  Especially when wrenches are being thrown at me.  I made this comment to her once,

Me:  "I feel like there are all these wrenches being thrown at me and I'm just ducking and dodging them."
Her: "Why wrenches?"
Me   "What?"
Her:  "Why wrenches?  Why not knifes, or bullets?"
Me:  "Who the fuck cares?  I'm over her dodging shit!"
Her:  "Well it's interesting that you said wrenches"
Me:   "No, what's interesting is that I cant see who is throwing them. I can only see them coming at me. All different sizes and they're coming quick"
Her:  "Why wrenches?"
Me:  "Fuck you bitch"

I meant that F.you in a loving, kind way.  She was the kind of therapist that could handle me saying that.  I left the office that day with her saying, "let me know next week why wrenches."

It bothered me for a long time.  I never could figure it out.  I had, and still have this vivid image of wrenches being thrown at me.  Like a nightmare I just cant get away from.  I still cant see who is throwing them.  Its only a shadow from a far off distance hurling them at me.  Someone strong, because they're coming fast.  I picture myself standing there, just ducking and dodging.  I'm not even running.  I'm just standing there, dodging.  I don't even know if I get hit.  Yeah, maybe, like when I throw my arm up in self defense.  Yup it hurts when I get hit.

So, I was talking to my friend about this last night.  Telling her, I feel like wrenches are being thrown at me.  Then I tell her the story of my therapist and "why wrenches" and I'm like fuck you bitch, and my friend says, in only the most beautiful eloquent way that friends can say.  "Of course its wrenches!  Knifes would kill you. Bullets kill you.  You are a strong women.  Things may come at you but they're not going to kill you.  Hell no!  Of course its a wrench.  That shit hurts!  A wrench might knock you down, but its not gonna kill you.  If it was a knife or bullet, you'd be dead."

And there it is there.  After a long day of dodging wrenches, my beautiful friend tells me exactly how it is.  So what if a wrench gets thrown at you.  You and God can handle it  (notice I didn't say just you).  Wrenches hurt, but they don't kill.  I am a warrior and I can handle a lot.  I have handled a lot.  Sometimes, that requires help.  Through a therapist, or Prayer, or good friends, or doctor, or whatever you need.  Help is good.  And helpful.

Do you need help?

What can YOU help with today?

WRITING ON THE INTERNET

  As I sit down to write this it occurs to me I am not free to write anything I would like.  Sadly, I do have stalkers in my life that tend to check up on me in an effort to hold my words against me.  I know it sounds crazy and paranoid, but  it is just that.  Like that one time I wrote about when I went to jail....
That somehow came up in custody court years later.
 
So, instead of writing about what I would like to write about, I find myself instead heading a warning.  I'm sure you have all heard it before.  But just in case-The internet is a vast web of information.  You can find anything on the internet, which in my opinion is a blessing and a curse. 
 
Like that one time I was about to go out on a date with a guy.  Instead of finding him in the American Medical Association, I found him on 'report your ex'.  I can do vast amount of research on the internet and Im not even a researcher.

So please.  Writers' write.  But if your going to be honest, change the names.  Probably not wise to post pics of yourself on Facebook.  Especially if your 20, have a bunch of pics with you and underage girls drinking,  and attending Harvard Law.  I'm just sayin...

APPEARANCES

   I live in Newport Beach California.  Land of beautiful people.  Sunny skies, beach house estates, Bentley's are driven like Honda Accords.  They're everywhere.  I wouldn't trade where I live for anything.  I love it here.             
  The fact is, it's all an illusion.  I'm talking about the people of course.  I look around me daily.   I do mean daily, and I see people going about their lives.  Looking fabulous, actually enjoying their lives.  At the park, at the mall, especially at church.  I am in awe.
  I don't have that kind of life.  I have a life full of trials and tribulations, and really, really rough times.  There are things that have happened to me, with me, for me, against me, narly, treacherous things, that no person should have to endure.  Yet I have.
  I am not having a pity party.  I'm only sharing that to make my point.  I appear to have it all together.  I'm super cute, I workout, I 'look' fabulous, I live in a nice place, I drive a decent car. I appear to have it all together.  Appearances.
  The truth is, God didn't give me an easy life.  He gave me a life full of heartache, pain, broke and brokenness.  He gave me gut-wrenching sorrow that has brought me to my knees.  Literally.  And that is my point.
  I have a son who is in the hospital.  He will be in the hospital for a very long time.  This consumes me pretty much every minute of every day.  I cry at the drop of a hat, sometimes in my car, sometimes at my office, mostly when I'm writing, always in church. 
  I have another son who is not working or going to school and doesn't have a clue about what he wants to do with his life.
  I have a daughter who is a ball full of nuclear energy, who does not stop moving, talking, or singing from the second she wakes up to the time she goes to sleep.  And I mean that literally.
  I had a spouse who I was deeply in love with and left me for drugs.
These are things that would appear to break me.
  I am so grateful to be where I'm at.  Full of humility and gratitude for the blessings I have.
  I have a son who is in the hospital and getting treatment.
  I have a son who is clean and sober and taking time to figure out what he wants in life.
  I have a daughter who keeps me skinny, and active, and laughing everyday.
  I get to date super fabulous men (& some not so fabulous) that provide hours of comedic material in case I ever want to write a sit-com.
  It has occurred to me that the beautiful people all around me, only appear to be fabulous.  Don't get me wrong, some are, and that's a blessing too.  But many aren't.  They have they're own trials and tribulations.  They have their own demons to wrestle with.  They're own obstacles to overcome. 
  My heartaches have left me much more compassionate towards others.  She probably has a story too.  He probably does as well.  It may be way worse then mine.  Ive learned to listen.  Ive learned to be grateful, Ive certainly learned to be humble.  This is a gift I get to pass on. 
Appearances are only that. I hope someone reads this and spends one day not judging others by what they appear to be.

BLESSINGS








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