Happy 22nd year to my handsome, talented, gifted, creative, funny, brilliant, and most importantly, loving son David! Who knew that a crazy beginning would result in a perfect specimen such as yourself?
Captain Hook who kills the bad guys, the Vengeful Poet who wrote about killing the bad guys, and the Good Guy who is an artist extraordinaire. I love you David, for who you are, no matter what you do or don't do, simple as that.
The lack of anything becomes the source of craving and desire - for the most part. However, when the lack of money is the subject my insufficiency, then instead of the exciting anticipation of acquiring the reward, I instead grow anxious and overwhelmed as the payment due dates rapidly approach! Until recently, I would kick into high gear and find a part time something to fill in the needed extra zeroes at the end of my bank account balance, and breeze through another month unscathed by late fees and overdrafts. With the waning supply of readily available part time work and my aging feet, I am forced to become more resourceful and review my options.
How many times have I heard "re-invent yourself" or "work at what you are passionate about"? As though we all have deliberately chosen to work in the miserably boring or tedious, thankless positions we are employed in. So HOW do you work at what you are passionate about - but first how do you know what you are passionate about? Better yet, what if you are passionate about several things or what you are passionate about doesn't provide enough income to subsist in this crazy economy?
The book, "Cure for the Common Life - Living in Your Sweet Spot" by Max Lucado; has really opened my eyes and mind to the possibility of being able to go for it! I discovered my "sweet spot" is naturally in the creative field. I love to help people, and I also love working with my hands. These things I have always known, but reading about it and having it explained so well as the reason for my miserable feelings of inadequacy and constant searching for my "purpose", has given me a renewed sense of hope for my future. This long haphazard journey of my life is not just a trail of footprints in the sand to be washed away with the next generation. The experiences can be of help to someone, I am sure of it, I just need the correct venue to present them.
Evolution was not how we got here, but the evolution of thought has been how we have gotten this far. I just hope my evolving thoughts don't take as long as the age of industry or the others cause I ain't got that long to wait!
I think I have a new name in mind for this blog, but it isn't quite there yet....maybe something like "Single Mothers, The Sisterhood of Survivors"... but that seems so desperate and bleak for a tribute to lives filled with growth and purpose and change and courage. Hmmm, still thinking but must finish mowing the living organism that my lawn has become before it swallows us up, cars, home and all...it helps to clear my mind through the endless and mind numbing revolutions of the blades and paths of neatly trimmed grass - like neatly trimming my cluttered brain into manageable trains of thought.
Still thinking about names -
Single Motherhood - The Great Frontier
A Sisterhood Like No Other- Membership Priceless
Just Like Mama Used to Make - A Home Without Dad
Sisterhood of Single Motherhood
A Life No One Would Wish For But Happy to End Up With
SO I'M A SINGLE MOTHER - You Got a PROBLEM With That??
Ducks in a Row on the Roof {A Random thought just pops up every so often and I have to go with them!}
Better Than Before {That one is probably in the self improvement book section at Borders!}
Behind Every Successful Single Mother is Herself, a Pile of Bills and Laundry
Will This Fun Never End? A Tribute to Single Motherhood
Obstacle Illusions - I Am Better Than I think I Am {Another Self help documentary that I should also write someday}
AAARRRRGGGGHHHHH!!!!!!!!
I lost my favorite Sister in law a couple of weeks ago. She was the consummate single mother - adventurous, content to be who she was, full of life, and the mother, grandmother and great grandmother of nearly all of my nieces and nephews. She lived an impoverished life, but it was a trade off for the richness of her free lifestyle.
I have begun to examine my motives and purpose for living and found them severely lacking in comparison to her simple plan. I will miss her words and her laughter, her long gray hair and the way her small voice made a big difference - but everything else about her I carry with me and will flavor my life like no one else could.
She is the thin short haired girl next to my brother in the old picture at the top of my blog - pregnant with her first of five children - before single motherhood was even a thought in her mind, let alone a lifetime career.
My first born - the prize winning moment that transformed my life into the purpose I was created for - left the nest years ago. But still, when she wed the man of her dreams, it was never more pronounced and final than then. Her book continues to be written while mine is already into the next volume, compiling a collection of tragedies, triumphs, and mostly average adventures. Hers is one I am anxious to read, since the beginning chapters were so hard to put down.
Happy life to my all growed up little Shani-shine, I am so proud of you and I will love you beyond forever!
Another up all night - night. Not rocking my baby to sleep, but trying to unravel the turmoil of my teenage daughter... is it ever going to get easier? The response is always - it could be so much worse, never that it could be so much better. When did it happen that my perfect child became someone who should settle for less of herself and me who should accept it? A Mother's love accepts all but hopes and guides towards what is better. Did my Mom do that for me? I know she cried tears over my life and her own - mostly the failures, not the triumphs. I felt like such a disappointment - but now I know why she cried and how she must have loved me and how much I must have made her suffer without realizing it. I'm not crying for my daughter and what is just the beginning of a complicated and emotionally charged life. For now I cry for my Mommie and all the Moms who are misunderstood and who do have it so much worse...and thank God that for now, I am not among them.
I have a story to tell, and eventually it will be something everybody will want to hear. Isn't that what we all hope for since we are writing the inner most thoughts and opinions about life - mostly ours, (how boring), and thinking that we are making a difference somehow? Maybe a difference only to me - my audience for now and for now the most important, since I am the only one listening.
