My Dear Adia,
I think about your future quite often. I think of what you'll be like as a teenager. I think of the boys that will be trying to win your heart. I think of the man you will choose to marry.
Over the years, you will read the fairy tales of all the happily-ever-afters. You will hear people talk about finding 'the one'. You may start to believe in what you hear and see in movies or read in books. But I want to assure you, there is no perfect 'one' person out there for you. There isn't a singular soul-mate out there waiting to stumble upon you.
There will be many different men that you could be happy and in love with for the rest of your life... the choice is yours as to who you choose to be 'the one'. The decision is completely in your hands. Choose very carefully though.
The term soul-mate has recently attained a new connotation for me. There will be friends and family that you have a deep connection with. These people will know who you truly are without needing you to talk about yourself. They will know your desires and dreams. They will be your encouragement when you lose faith in yourself. They will recognize your sadness even though you don't share it, and they will comfort you in a way only they can. They will love you unconditionally, no matter your mistakes. My mom, my dad, and you are collectively, each for your own individual reasons, my soul-mate; the love of my life. And when I picture my life without one of you or all of you, I have a feeling of no control and complete hopelessness. I am happiest when I have all three of you around me. You are home to me.
I hope you find that home in others when you get older. It may be with friends, it may be with the man you choose to marry, or it may be with me. You will know who they are though. When you feel like you don't need walls around your heart or thoughts, you are with your soul-mate.
Wednesday, January 15, 2014
Wednesday, January 30, 2013
Potty Training...
My silly Adia,
You will probably roll your eyes and hang your head when I tell this story in years to come. And when you have a child, I hope you find humor in the these situations as well.
Shortly after you turned 2 years old, we bought you a potty. We went to Target and let you choose your potty. Of course you picked the pink one with a princess crown, that played music. We thought it was really cute so we went ahead and purchased that potty. When it was time to start using the potty, the cute factor went right out the window.
Potty training day 1, you were so excited to sit on your own princess potty! You sat down and pointed for me to leave the bathroom. I left the bathroom and a few seconds later I heard the music go off. I was walking into the bathroom smiling, so excited and ready to praise you... and you were running out in horror. The music that played when you pee-peed scared the ever-living life out of you! The cute, pink, musical potty was now an evil torture device....
You refused to get back on the potty. I showed you how fun the music was by pouring water into it and dancing around when the music played. You were not impressed. I even took the music part out of the potty, so it became a regular potty. I showed you how it wouldn't play music by pouring more water into it. You weren't convinced. You would cry and say, "Scary potty.." So I decided to let you heal from that experience for a few weeks.. but later, every time I would try to get you to use your potty you would freak out.
So now 7 months later, I got a seat that just fits on the big potty. Yesterday was the first day of the second potty training experience. You will sit on the big potty and you are perfectly content. You just won't pee-pee. We sit, we wait, you get down, pull-up goes on and then you pee. Every time. Day 2 is much of the same. You are just too silly, Adia. I don't know what I am going to do with you. I know you can use the potty, you just don't want to. Last night you said, "I want baby diaper." And I asked, "You want a baby diaper so you can be a baby again?'' Your reply was simply: "Yes."
Even though I would love to keep you as a baby, you are growing up. You have to go potty like a big girl. So I'm going to keep putting you on the potty, and one of these times you are going to forget to hold it and you will pee-pee!!! Hopefully....
I love you and your independent, sometimes rebellious nature. Things hardly go as planned, and nothing is typical with you except you doing what Miss Adia decides to do when you decide to do it. Thankfully, most of the time all your antics are hilarious and entertaining. Thanks for keeping me laughing, now just pee-pee in the potty!!
You will probably roll your eyes and hang your head when I tell this story in years to come. And when you have a child, I hope you find humor in the these situations as well.
Shortly after you turned 2 years old, we bought you a potty. We went to Target and let you choose your potty. Of course you picked the pink one with a princess crown, that played music. We thought it was really cute so we went ahead and purchased that potty. When it was time to start using the potty, the cute factor went right out the window.
Potty training day 1, you were so excited to sit on your own princess potty! You sat down and pointed for me to leave the bathroom. I left the bathroom and a few seconds later I heard the music go off. I was walking into the bathroom smiling, so excited and ready to praise you... and you were running out in horror. The music that played when you pee-peed scared the ever-living life out of you! The cute, pink, musical potty was now an evil torture device....
You refused to get back on the potty. I showed you how fun the music was by pouring water into it and dancing around when the music played. You were not impressed. I even took the music part out of the potty, so it became a regular potty. I showed you how it wouldn't play music by pouring more water into it. You weren't convinced. You would cry and say, "Scary potty.." So I decided to let you heal from that experience for a few weeks.. but later, every time I would try to get you to use your potty you would freak out.
So now 7 months later, I got a seat that just fits on the big potty. Yesterday was the first day of the second potty training experience. You will sit on the big potty and you are perfectly content. You just won't pee-pee. We sit, we wait, you get down, pull-up goes on and then you pee. Every time. Day 2 is much of the same. You are just too silly, Adia. I don't know what I am going to do with you. I know you can use the potty, you just don't want to. Last night you said, "I want baby diaper." And I asked, "You want a baby diaper so you can be a baby again?'' Your reply was simply: "Yes."
Even though I would love to keep you as a baby, you are growing up. You have to go potty like a big girl. So I'm going to keep putting you on the potty, and one of these times you are going to forget to hold it and you will pee-pee!!! Hopefully....
I love you and your independent, sometimes rebellious nature. Things hardly go as planned, and nothing is typical with you except you doing what Miss Adia decides to do when you decide to do it. Thankfully, most of the time all your antics are hilarious and entertaining. Thanks for keeping me laughing, now just pee-pee in the potty!!
Tuesday, September 4, 2012
The Meaning...
Adia,
When I found out I was having a little baby girl, I pondered a few different names. But I was certain Adia would be your name. It is a beautiful and very uncommon name. I wanted a special name for my special baby. So how did I decide 100% on this name?
When I was 14 years old, I got a Sarah McLachlan CD and a song named 'Adia' soon became my favorite song. I remember my little teenage-self telling my mom while riding in her Blazer, "When I grow up and have a baby, I want to name her Adia." I loved the way the name sounded; it was so different.
Flash forward 10 years later, I have a baby girl growing in my womb and it's time to pick out a name. I think back to my love of the name Adia and ask your Daddy if he likes it. He agrees that he wants an uncommon name, a name that's different from the norm. We wanted a name that would stand out among all the other typical girl names. The next step was to look up the actual meaning of the name Adia. Seeing the meaning of Adia sealed the deal for both of us.
Adia :: meaning Gift, in Swahili
Adia :: meaning Gift from God, in Hebrew
You are definitely a gift from God. Not only to me, but to everyone you see. You pick out the scariest people in my eyes, (the big, old, scruffy, tattooed, thug-looking men) and you smile, wave and say "Hiiiiii!!" They can't help but to smile and say "Hi" back to you. When we go through the check out line in Wal-mart, the cashier can be the type that doesn't talk to us and just wants her shift to be over (can't blame her) but you smile and tell her "Thank you, Byyyye!" She smiles back at you, and says "Bye, baby." We can be walking around downtown; pass by a group of men and when they see you they all stop talking and smile.
I believe you can warm the coldest of hearts, you can brighten the dullest days, you can bring joy to the saddest eyes. You are God's gift to this old, cruel world. I hope you stay this happy, joyous, and confident. And with a name like Adia, I think the odds are in your favor that you will always be a unique and wonderful gift to everyone you meet in your lifetime.
I love you more than words can say, Adia. Thank you for being you.
When I found out I was having a little baby girl, I pondered a few different names. But I was certain Adia would be your name. It is a beautiful and very uncommon name. I wanted a special name for my special baby. So how did I decide 100% on this name?
When I was 14 years old, I got a Sarah McLachlan CD and a song named 'Adia' soon became my favorite song. I remember my little teenage-self telling my mom while riding in her Blazer, "When I grow up and have a baby, I want to name her Adia." I loved the way the name sounded; it was so different.
Flash forward 10 years later, I have a baby girl growing in my womb and it's time to pick out a name. I think back to my love of the name Adia and ask your Daddy if he likes it. He agrees that he wants an uncommon name, a name that's different from the norm. We wanted a name that would stand out among all the other typical girl names. The next step was to look up the actual meaning of the name Adia. Seeing the meaning of Adia sealed the deal for both of us.
Adia :: meaning Gift, in Swahili
Adia :: meaning Gift from God, in Hebrew
You are definitely a gift from God. Not only to me, but to everyone you see. You pick out the scariest people in my eyes, (the big, old, scruffy, tattooed, thug-looking men) and you smile, wave and say "Hiiiiii!!" They can't help but to smile and say "Hi" back to you. When we go through the check out line in Wal-mart, the cashier can be the type that doesn't talk to us and just wants her shift to be over (can't blame her) but you smile and tell her "Thank you, Byyyye!" She smiles back at you, and says "Bye, baby." We can be walking around downtown; pass by a group of men and when they see you they all stop talking and smile.
I believe you can warm the coldest of hearts, you can brighten the dullest days, you can bring joy to the saddest eyes. You are God's gift to this old, cruel world. I hope you stay this happy, joyous, and confident. And with a name like Adia, I think the odds are in your favor that you will always be a unique and wonderful gift to everyone you meet in your lifetime.
I love you more than words can say, Adia. Thank you for being you.
Thursday, June 21, 2012
Your Memsie...
Adia,
I could not have asked for a better Mama. And you could not have a better Memsie! She is such a special woman in so many ways. I want to share a glimpse of my relationship with Memsie through the years and your blossoming relationship with her.
Memsie is my best friend. She has always been my best friend. I have always felt very proud of the special relationship my mom and I have.. I can only hope and pray that you and I will one day have this same relationship. Growing up my mom was a perfect mother. She was extremely patient, slow to anger, nurturing, loving and selfless. I never longed for attention. She was always around to give me encouragement, reassurance, hugs and kisses. I always had my needs met and she payed attention to anything I was interested in.
Memsie can make anything fun. She could make driving to the flea market into an exciting adventure! She'd wake me and Uncle Adam up on Saturday mornings to take us on one of her magical adventures. We'd end up at the flea market, the beach, the park, the mall, Walmart, or maybe McDonalds. Yes, those places were very exciting to us as young children! One day that adventure took me to sign up for Girls Scouts. Once I got into middle school, the surprise adventures turned into a Saturday morning tradition of going to either Hardee's or Chick-fil-A for a chicken biscuit. Memsie and I did the biscuit tradition until we moved to Savannah.
During middle school and high school, some friends of mine would comment on the relationship my mom and I had.. they thought it was nice that I was so close to my mom. I would openly say that my Mom was my best friend. A lot of teenagers go through a stage where they strongly dislike their Mom and completely shut them out of their life. I never went through that stage. I knew I needed my mom, still do. I stayed out of a lot of trouble during my teens and I chalk that up to having such a close relationship with my mom.
Even though my mom has been my best friend, there were still rules and I have always respected her. There's never been a time when I thought I knew better than my mom about something. She still knows better than I do about things! She has definitely helped me with becoming a mom myself.
Memsie loves you to pieces. She's so good with you. And oh, so, patient. Watching her interact with you makes me feel like an inadequate mom compared to her. When she's hurting and sick, she stills gets down on the floor or marches around the kitchen with you. When her back is killing her, she stills holds you and loves on you. That's some unconditional love!
She inspires me to be a great mom. If I am half as wonderful as she is, then I'll be happy. And all the credit to me being a good mom goes directly to her. She is simply amazing as a mom and as a Memsie.
I could not have asked for a better Mama. And you could not have a better Memsie! She is such a special woman in so many ways. I want to share a glimpse of my relationship with Memsie through the years and your blossoming relationship with her.
Memsie is my best friend. She has always been my best friend. I have always felt very proud of the special relationship my mom and I have.. I can only hope and pray that you and I will one day have this same relationship. Growing up my mom was a perfect mother. She was extremely patient, slow to anger, nurturing, loving and selfless. I never longed for attention. She was always around to give me encouragement, reassurance, hugs and kisses. I always had my needs met and she payed attention to anything I was interested in.
Memsie can make anything fun. She could make driving to the flea market into an exciting adventure! She'd wake me and Uncle Adam up on Saturday mornings to take us on one of her magical adventures. We'd end up at the flea market, the beach, the park, the mall, Walmart, or maybe McDonalds. Yes, those places were very exciting to us as young children! One day that adventure took me to sign up for Girls Scouts. Once I got into middle school, the surprise adventures turned into a Saturday morning tradition of going to either Hardee's or Chick-fil-A for a chicken biscuit. Memsie and I did the biscuit tradition until we moved to Savannah.
During middle school and high school, some friends of mine would comment on the relationship my mom and I had.. they thought it was nice that I was so close to my mom. I would openly say that my Mom was my best friend. A lot of teenagers go through a stage where they strongly dislike their Mom and completely shut them out of their life. I never went through that stage. I knew I needed my mom, still do. I stayed out of a lot of trouble during my teens and I chalk that up to having such a close relationship with my mom.
Even though my mom has been my best friend, there were still rules and I have always respected her. There's never been a time when I thought I knew better than my mom about something. She still knows better than I do about things! She has definitely helped me with becoming a mom myself.
Memsie loves you to pieces. She's so good with you. And oh, so, patient. Watching her interact with you makes me feel like an inadequate mom compared to her. When she's hurting and sick, she stills gets down on the floor or marches around the kitchen with you. When her back is killing her, she stills holds you and loves on you. That's some unconditional love!
She inspires me to be a great mom. If I am half as wonderful as she is, then I'll be happy. And all the credit to me being a good mom goes directly to her. She is simply amazing as a mom and as a Memsie.
Friday, May 4, 2012
Watch The Lamb...
Adia,
Today you and I are having a music day. Some days we just listen to music and color or dance until nap time. Today I was on YouTube and looked up a song I've known since I was a young girl. It is an incredible song and so moving. As we listened to it today it brought tears to my eyes. The song is called, "Watch the Lamb" by Ray Boltz. When I was a young girl I performed in a skit that acted out the words of this song. Your Papa played the Daddy. I was one of the 'sons'. Some people of my church acted out the angry mob, shouting "Crucify Him, Kill Him" when the man playing Jesus came walking down the church aisle. I remember feeling scared but then I reminded myself that this was just pretend. I remember the Roman Guard actor forcing my Dad to pick up the cross that Jesus couldn't carry anymore. I remember him being shoved around by the Guard and I felt so helpless. But again, I reminded myself my Dad wasn't really being hurt, this was just a skit. At the end of the song the words say, "I felt two little hands holding tight to mine.." At that point, me and the other actor walked up and grabbed my Dad's hands. When he looked down at us, he had been so moved by the song and the skit, he was really crying. I felt sad, I didn't like seeing my Dad cry. I started crying too. In the skit, the children were supposed to be upset because it was their responsibility not to let their little lamb run away. We asked for forgiveness because the lamb had run away. My Dad fell to his knees, hugged us, and then pointed up to the cross and the man playing Jesus while these words were sung, "I took them in my arms and we turned and faced the cross. Then I said, 'Dear Children, Watch the lamb.....'"
Jesus is our lamb. Every time we sin, Jesus has already paid the price so we can be forgiven. I don't want you to ever lose sight of the real lamb. We all sin, but I hope you always remember how much God loves us. He sent his son to die for us and we should strive to live the way Christ lived. So willing to die for us, so willing to forgive the hands that killed him.
I love you Adia.
Today you and I are having a music day. Some days we just listen to music and color or dance until nap time. Today I was on YouTube and looked up a song I've known since I was a young girl. It is an incredible song and so moving. As we listened to it today it brought tears to my eyes. The song is called, "Watch the Lamb" by Ray Boltz. When I was a young girl I performed in a skit that acted out the words of this song. Your Papa played the Daddy. I was one of the 'sons'. Some people of my church acted out the angry mob, shouting "Crucify Him, Kill Him" when the man playing Jesus came walking down the church aisle. I remember feeling scared but then I reminded myself that this was just pretend. I remember the Roman Guard actor forcing my Dad to pick up the cross that Jesus couldn't carry anymore. I remember him being shoved around by the Guard and I felt so helpless. But again, I reminded myself my Dad wasn't really being hurt, this was just a skit. At the end of the song the words say, "I felt two little hands holding tight to mine.." At that point, me and the other actor walked up and grabbed my Dad's hands. When he looked down at us, he had been so moved by the song and the skit, he was really crying. I felt sad, I didn't like seeing my Dad cry. I started crying too. In the skit, the children were supposed to be upset because it was their responsibility not to let their little lamb run away. We asked for forgiveness because the lamb had run away. My Dad fell to his knees, hugged us, and then pointed up to the cross and the man playing Jesus while these words were sung, "I took them in my arms and we turned and faced the cross. Then I said, 'Dear Children, Watch the lamb.....'"
Jesus is our lamb. Every time we sin, Jesus has already paid the price so we can be forgiven. I don't want you to ever lose sight of the real lamb. We all sin, but I hope you always remember how much God loves us. He sent his son to die for us and we should strive to live the way Christ lived. So willing to die for us, so willing to forgive the hands that killed him.
I love you Adia.
Saturday, March 10, 2012
Your Papa...
Adia,
I am so happy that you have an amazing relationship with my Dad. He loves you to pieces and you are already getting away with so much more than I ever did. I'm sure there will be many different stories and things you will hear about Papa but I just wanted to put down in words how he has made me the person I am.
The very first thing I remember bonding over with my dad was music. On trips upstate to visit family or to go on vacation, I would have to have my cassette tape player and some of his tapes. He was born in 1951, so he was a really big fan of the music of the late 50's, 60's and 70's. I developed an almost obsession with that era of music at a very young age. My first favorite songs on his tapes were: "The Leader of the Pack" by The Shangri-Las, "Little Red Riding Hood" - by Sam the Sham, "Turn, Turn, Turn" by The Byrds, and "With a Little Help from My Friends" by Joe Cocker. He had the music of Woodstock on cassette tapes and I would fast-fast forward and rewind that tape so many times to listen to that Joe Cocker song. I'm surprised any of his cassette tapes survived my childhood. And I'm realizing right now, you won't even know what a cassette tape is when you get older. Oh wow, way to age myself.
Papa started my love for history and politics. Since I was already in love with music from a very intense political era, I became interested in John F. Kennedy and the Vietnam War . Later I developed a strong interest in World War II and the Holocaust. Papa and I love historical war movies. In fact, I remember going to see 'We Were Soldiers' in the movie theater with him. Just me and Papa. I can't remember when I became so into politics, but I have been as long as I can remember. At the dinner table during my college years, our conversations would mainly be about politics or current events happening in the world. I couldn't wait to have discussions with Papa about different things my professors would say or just get his opinion on news topics. The dinner talks were definitely the highlight of my day.
He taught me how to be modest when it came to dressing myself. When all the other girls at church or school would wear short skirts/shorts, tight jeans, and low cut shirts, my Dad would not let me leave the house in anything he thought was immodest. Which I am really thankful for now. You don't have to show anything but your personality to be attractive.
He taught me to be respectful. I remember one time my mom was sewing an Easter dress for me. I think I was in 3rd grade. My dad over heard me saying something to my mom that sounded rude. It was along the lines of, "No, I don't want to try it on again." She made me go show my Dad to see what he thought of the dress, he said, "You do not talk to your Mom that way." Talk about putting the fear of God into someone... Sometimes, most times, all Papa would have to do was give me a look and I knew to straighten up. Again, I'm thankful he was a true disciplinarian. When you respect others, you respect yourself.
Papa taught me that no one is perfect; we all make mistakes. But he also taught me you can be perfect in your imperfections. He doesn't hold grudges and you will never hear him judging anyone, unless it's a politician. He absolutely hates gossip and you will never hear him get involved in it. He taught me that I am no better than anyone else. He is non-confrontational usually. In his line of work I think some people think they can back him into a corner and he can't/won't do anything. He taught me sometimes it's better to just hold your tongue. It takes a strong person to let things go, and Papa is just that.
I hope to pass on to you all the values and interests Papa and I share. You are Papa's little angel.
I am so happy that you have an amazing relationship with my Dad. He loves you to pieces and you are already getting away with so much more than I ever did. I'm sure there will be many different stories and things you will hear about Papa but I just wanted to put down in words how he has made me the person I am.
The very first thing I remember bonding over with my dad was music. On trips upstate to visit family or to go on vacation, I would have to have my cassette tape player and some of his tapes. He was born in 1951, so he was a really big fan of the music of the late 50's, 60's and 70's. I developed an almost obsession with that era of music at a very young age. My first favorite songs on his tapes were: "The Leader of the Pack" by The Shangri-Las, "Little Red Riding Hood" - by Sam the Sham, "Turn, Turn, Turn" by The Byrds, and "With a Little Help from My Friends" by Joe Cocker. He had the music of Woodstock on cassette tapes and I would fast-fast forward and rewind that tape so many times to listen to that Joe Cocker song. I'm surprised any of his cassette tapes survived my childhood. And I'm realizing right now, you won't even know what a cassette tape is when you get older. Oh wow, way to age myself.
Papa started my love for history and politics. Since I was already in love with music from a very intense political era, I became interested in John F. Kennedy and the Vietnam War . Later I developed a strong interest in World War II and the Holocaust. Papa and I love historical war movies. In fact, I remember going to see 'We Were Soldiers' in the movie theater with him. Just me and Papa. I can't remember when I became so into politics, but I have been as long as I can remember. At the dinner table during my college years, our conversations would mainly be about politics or current events happening in the world. I couldn't wait to have discussions with Papa about different things my professors would say or just get his opinion on news topics. The dinner talks were definitely the highlight of my day.
He taught me how to be modest when it came to dressing myself. When all the other girls at church or school would wear short skirts/shorts, tight jeans, and low cut shirts, my Dad would not let me leave the house in anything he thought was immodest. Which I am really thankful for now. You don't have to show anything but your personality to be attractive.
He taught me to be respectful. I remember one time my mom was sewing an Easter dress for me. I think I was in 3rd grade. My dad over heard me saying something to my mom that sounded rude. It was along the lines of, "No, I don't want to try it on again." She made me go show my Dad to see what he thought of the dress, he said, "You do not talk to your Mom that way." Talk about putting the fear of God into someone... Sometimes, most times, all Papa would have to do was give me a look and I knew to straighten up. Again, I'm thankful he was a true disciplinarian. When you respect others, you respect yourself.
Papa taught me that no one is perfect; we all make mistakes. But he also taught me you can be perfect in your imperfections. He doesn't hold grudges and you will never hear him judging anyone, unless it's a politician. He absolutely hates gossip and you will never hear him get involved in it. He taught me that I am no better than anyone else. He is non-confrontational usually. In his line of work I think some people think they can back him into a corner and he can't/won't do anything. He taught me sometimes it's better to just hold your tongue. It takes a strong person to let things go, and Papa is just that.
I hope to pass on to you all the values and interests Papa and I share. You are Papa's little angel.
Thursday, February 23, 2012
American Pride
Adia,
You and I went out to get some groceries today. When we were driving through the neighborhood I noticed only one American Flag. We are the youngest family living in this neighborhood, and the only family who flies an American Flag. At first, the thought just made me kinda sad, then it made me angry. We have become so comfortable, as a nation, we take our freedom for granted. And we don't unite as one people. Right now, there is a lot of bickering over the current Obama Administration and the Republicans are fighting each other for the nomination to run against Obama later this year. I am very interested in politics and very passionate about what I believe. Your daddy and I have our own political debates, and I'm sure once you can form sentences you will join in. And I encourage and will hope that you educate yourself on politics. But I don't want you to be political and not patriotic.
Sometimes we are so busy with the messy details of each party that we forget we are ALL Americans. No matter if people are Democrats or Republicans... We are all Americans. We should all be so patriotic and grateful for our freedom that we all fly American flags. We should all respect the soldiers who have fought for our freedoms. We should all stand to say the Pledge of Allegiance, and when the National Anthem is played.
Tonight I was watching news coverage of rebel fighters in Syria who are trying to overtake the current government. The government has now killed 6,000 people and Syrians are pleading to the US for help; to save their lives. And there I sat, sitting on my couch eating tacos. I thought how awesomely free I am. I'm sitting here with basically no immediate worries on my mind, while there are people in other countries getting killed because they voice disapproval of their government. It's times like these I swell up with pride in and thankfulness for my forefathers who sacrificed so much for me to be free.
We decorate every Fourth of July. We stand when we ever hear the National Anthem and place our right hand over our hearts. We pay our respects to American soldiers by attending memorials. We shake a soldier's hand every chance we get and say thank you for your service. We vote to make sure Veterans get their well deserved benefits. They took care of us, we need to take care of them. And we fly our free nation's flag proudly!
You and I went out to get some groceries today. When we were driving through the neighborhood I noticed only one American Flag. We are the youngest family living in this neighborhood, and the only family who flies an American Flag. At first, the thought just made me kinda sad, then it made me angry. We have become so comfortable, as a nation, we take our freedom for granted. And we don't unite as one people. Right now, there is a lot of bickering over the current Obama Administration and the Republicans are fighting each other for the nomination to run against Obama later this year. I am very interested in politics and very passionate about what I believe. Your daddy and I have our own political debates, and I'm sure once you can form sentences you will join in. And I encourage and will hope that you educate yourself on politics. But I don't want you to be political and not patriotic.
Sometimes we are so busy with the messy details of each party that we forget we are ALL Americans. No matter if people are Democrats or Republicans... We are all Americans. We should all be so patriotic and grateful for our freedom that we all fly American flags. We should all respect the soldiers who have fought for our freedoms. We should all stand to say the Pledge of Allegiance, and when the National Anthem is played.
Tonight I was watching news coverage of rebel fighters in Syria who are trying to overtake the current government. The government has now killed 6,000 people and Syrians are pleading to the US for help; to save their lives. And there I sat, sitting on my couch eating tacos. I thought how awesomely free I am. I'm sitting here with basically no immediate worries on my mind, while there are people in other countries getting killed because they voice disapproval of their government. It's times like these I swell up with pride in and thankfulness for my forefathers who sacrificed so much for me to be free.
We decorate every Fourth of July. We stand when we ever hear the National Anthem and place our right hand over our hearts. We pay our respects to American soldiers by attending memorials. We shake a soldier's hand every chance we get and say thank you for your service. We vote to make sure Veterans get their well deserved benefits. They took care of us, we need to take care of them. And we fly our free nation's flag proudly!
Sunday, February 5, 2012
African American History Month...
Adia,
If there is one thing you learn from me I hope it is seeing everyone as an equal to you. No matter the skin color, you are no better than anyone else. Growing up in the south is not an easy place to be if you're trying to be accepting of all people. There are still many hard lines drawn in the sand about what is right and what is wrong when it comes to other races. It's getting better though, and my hope is that it will be an even lesser issue when you are grown. I also encourage you to cross those lines, ignore those prejudices, and to be 'color blind'.
February is African American History month. I have always been interested in the history of African Americans and the civil rights movements of the 1950's and 1960's. I have tried to educate myself on African American history, which I will encourage you to do as well. I am looking forward to taking you to Montgomery, Alabama to see where Rosa Parks refused to give up her seat on the bus. There is a Rosa Parks museum in Montgomery and a Civil Rights Memorial/Museum as well. I grew so much as a person from going to those places and being surrounded by that history.
In the Rosa Parks museum, they have a walk-through exhibit of the exact events that occurred the night Rosa Parks was arrested. The museum has a replica of the bus that Rosa Parks was on that world-changing night. As I was standing in front of the bus, listening to audio of men and women screaming obscene, demeaning vulgarities and threatening the life of Mrs. Parks, I started to shake. My heart started beating faster. I started breathing heavy, and was getting chills. The audio ignited the 'fight or flight' mechanism in my body and I wanted to run. I felt this hopelessness wash over my body and was frozen in fear. When the audio went off, I exhaled with relief thanking God it was over. Then I realized, this was an every day occurrence in the life of so many African Americans during that time. My heart broke into so many pieces over and over during the days I spent in Montgomery, Alabama. It is so impossibly hard for me to believe that one human being could treat another human being so horribly. I believe it happened for far too long, and I passionately believe it must never happen again.
Some people you encounter through the years will voice that they don't see why there should be a month specifically dedicated to African American history. The reason I want you to remember is, we need this month to come around every year so we will never forget the horrible things African Americans have gone through. History must not, and simply cannot, repeat itself in that way. So by remembering all the tortured African American souls and their stories in February of every year, surely we will be reminded of the inhumane mistakes we made and continue to learn from those mistakes. We also need this month to remind people about all the great accomplishments and inventions African Americans have contributed to our country and to the world. Some people will continue to be raised to think African Americans aren't an equal, but by reminding them of the genius minds of African Americans, maybe one day they will realize their ignorant beliefs are so unfounded.
A personal story relating to our family during the 1920-40's in the south: Your Great-Grandfather Moore was pretty much raised by a black man, named Sam. When I first learned about this as a younger child, I was so ashamed that my family would participate in, what I thought, was slavery. But I later learned the real story and he was not a slave at all. Your Great-Grandfather's mother preferred and loved working outside, so she would work the fields while Sam watched the kids. The exact quote to describe a typical day in their life was, "Mrs. Moore would be out working in the fields while Sam sat, played and read with the children under the trees." I think that is such a neat history. Sam lived with the Moore's and I'm assuming they paid him to watch after the kids, but I know they treated him as one of the family. I wish so badly I could have met him. I believe he helped mold the mind of your Great-Grandfather. Sam helped your Great-Grandfather see that everyone is indeed equal. Your Great-Grandfather passed that knowledge down to your Papa and your Papa passed it on to me. From what I've heard, Sam was an easy-going and down to earth man, as was your Great-Grandfather. I truly believe Sam is very much a part of who I am, and a part of who you are as well... And for that I feel privileged and so thankful.
I am very much inspired to learn more about Mr. Sam. And I hope to record it all down for you. Always remember, every human being is a gift to this world so make sure you treat them that way.
If there is one thing you learn from me I hope it is seeing everyone as an equal to you. No matter the skin color, you are no better than anyone else. Growing up in the south is not an easy place to be if you're trying to be accepting of all people. There are still many hard lines drawn in the sand about what is right and what is wrong when it comes to other races. It's getting better though, and my hope is that it will be an even lesser issue when you are grown. I also encourage you to cross those lines, ignore those prejudices, and to be 'color blind'.
February is African American History month. I have always been interested in the history of African Americans and the civil rights movements of the 1950's and 1960's. I have tried to educate myself on African American history, which I will encourage you to do as well. I am looking forward to taking you to Montgomery, Alabama to see where Rosa Parks refused to give up her seat on the bus. There is a Rosa Parks museum in Montgomery and a Civil Rights Memorial/Museum as well. I grew so much as a person from going to those places and being surrounded by that history.
In the Rosa Parks museum, they have a walk-through exhibit of the exact events that occurred the night Rosa Parks was arrested. The museum has a replica of the bus that Rosa Parks was on that world-changing night. As I was standing in front of the bus, listening to audio of men and women screaming obscene, demeaning vulgarities and threatening the life of Mrs. Parks, I started to shake. My heart started beating faster. I started breathing heavy, and was getting chills. The audio ignited the 'fight or flight' mechanism in my body and I wanted to run. I felt this hopelessness wash over my body and was frozen in fear. When the audio went off, I exhaled with relief thanking God it was over. Then I realized, this was an every day occurrence in the life of so many African Americans during that time. My heart broke into so many pieces over and over during the days I spent in Montgomery, Alabama. It is so impossibly hard for me to believe that one human being could treat another human being so horribly. I believe it happened for far too long, and I passionately believe it must never happen again.
Some people you encounter through the years will voice that they don't see why there should be a month specifically dedicated to African American history. The reason I want you to remember is, we need this month to come around every year so we will never forget the horrible things African Americans have gone through. History must not, and simply cannot, repeat itself in that way. So by remembering all the tortured African American souls and their stories in February of every year, surely we will be reminded of the inhumane mistakes we made and continue to learn from those mistakes. We also need this month to remind people about all the great accomplishments and inventions African Americans have contributed to our country and to the world. Some people will continue to be raised to think African Americans aren't an equal, but by reminding them of the genius minds of African Americans, maybe one day they will realize their ignorant beliefs are so unfounded.
A personal story relating to our family during the 1920-40's in the south: Your Great-Grandfather Moore was pretty much raised by a black man, named Sam. When I first learned about this as a younger child, I was so ashamed that my family would participate in, what I thought, was slavery. But I later learned the real story and he was not a slave at all. Your Great-Grandfather's mother preferred and loved working outside, so she would work the fields while Sam watched the kids. The exact quote to describe a typical day in their life was, "Mrs. Moore would be out working in the fields while Sam sat, played and read with the children under the trees." I think that is such a neat history. Sam lived with the Moore's and I'm assuming they paid him to watch after the kids, but I know they treated him as one of the family. I wish so badly I could have met him. I believe he helped mold the mind of your Great-Grandfather. Sam helped your Great-Grandfather see that everyone is indeed equal. Your Great-Grandfather passed that knowledge down to your Papa and your Papa passed it on to me. From what I've heard, Sam was an easy-going and down to earth man, as was your Great-Grandfather. I truly believe Sam is very much a part of who I am, and a part of who you are as well... And for that I feel privileged and so thankful.
I am very much inspired to learn more about Mr. Sam. And I hope to record it all down for you. Always remember, every human being is a gift to this world so make sure you treat them that way.
Thursday, February 2, 2012
What you do for your children...
Adia,
Lately I have been unfortunate to see parents not doing the best things for their children. I whole-heartedly believe that as your mother it is my 100%, God-given responsibility to do anything and everything to provide you with a safe, happy, loving, and healthy life.
On a general level, parents may sometimes have to work a job they hate in order to provide for their children, parents may have to move away from the only home they have ever known in order to provide a healthy, adequate living for their children. Parents might not be able to do the things they did before they had children. They might have to give up going shopping anytime they want, going on trips, or buying expensive nonsense 'things' for themselves. Once you are a parent, everything is about your child/children. No matter how much you don't like the sacrifice you need to make, it's your duty as a parent.
On a personal level, if your Dad and I had not moved from Florence I would have never been able to be a stay at home mom. There were no jobs available for Dad in Florence in order for him to be the official bread winner, allowing me to stay home. Granted, I had to make a major sacrifice. I had to move away from my family and friends. That was not easy and still isn't easy. I don't think it will ever be easy being away from my family. It's hard living in a new city where I don't have close friends. It's hard not being able to have date nights with my husband because I don't trust anyone but my parents to watch you, yet. We also had to limit our spending on ourselves in order for us to afford my staying at home. Daddy had to give up his shopping for designer clothes/new cars, and I had to give up my addiction to eating out at restaurants/weekend getaway trips. BUT I am able to stay at home with you every day. I know you are being fed exactly what you need to eat, I know you are being changed when you dirty your diaper, and I know you are being treated the way little ones should be treated. I was able to witness your first steps, and hear you say 'Mama' for the first time. I can take you to the doctor at any time you need to be there. When your Daddy and I were both working, that was a big issue.
So believe me, the sacrifices I made have been worth it. There is nothing in this material world that would keep me from taking care of you to the absolute BEST of my ability. There is nothing that would stand in my way of keeping you safe and healthy. If I had to move to a new place every year, in order to give you the best life possible, we would make it work. There would be no excuses. We would work jobs we didn't necessarily like, we would live in a one bedroom apartment, we would sell our cars and use public transportation, we would starve so you could eat. I promise you, you will always be taken care of, no matter the sacrifices we have to make. No sacrifice is too much for you. I only wish all parents would come to realize their duties.
Lately I have been unfortunate to see parents not doing the best things for their children. I whole-heartedly believe that as your mother it is my 100%, God-given responsibility to do anything and everything to provide you with a safe, happy, loving, and healthy life.
On a general level, parents may sometimes have to work a job they hate in order to provide for their children, parents may have to move away from the only home they have ever known in order to provide a healthy, adequate living for their children. Parents might not be able to do the things they did before they had children. They might have to give up going shopping anytime they want, going on trips, or buying expensive nonsense 'things' for themselves. Once you are a parent, everything is about your child/children. No matter how much you don't like the sacrifice you need to make, it's your duty as a parent.
On a personal level, if your Dad and I had not moved from Florence I would have never been able to be a stay at home mom. There were no jobs available for Dad in Florence in order for him to be the official bread winner, allowing me to stay home. Granted, I had to make a major sacrifice. I had to move away from my family and friends. That was not easy and still isn't easy. I don't think it will ever be easy being away from my family. It's hard living in a new city where I don't have close friends. It's hard not being able to have date nights with my husband because I don't trust anyone but my parents to watch you, yet. We also had to limit our spending on ourselves in order for us to afford my staying at home. Daddy had to give up his shopping for designer clothes/new cars, and I had to give up my addiction to eating out at restaurants/weekend getaway trips. BUT I am able to stay at home with you every day. I know you are being fed exactly what you need to eat, I know you are being changed when you dirty your diaper, and I know you are being treated the way little ones should be treated. I was able to witness your first steps, and hear you say 'Mama' for the first time. I can take you to the doctor at any time you need to be there. When your Daddy and I were both working, that was a big issue.
So believe me, the sacrifices I made have been worth it. There is nothing in this material world that would keep me from taking care of you to the absolute BEST of my ability. There is nothing that would stand in my way of keeping you safe and healthy. If I had to move to a new place every year, in order to give you the best life possible, we would make it work. There would be no excuses. We would work jobs we didn't necessarily like, we would live in a one bedroom apartment, we would sell our cars and use public transportation, we would starve so you could eat. I promise you, you will always be taken care of, no matter the sacrifices we have to make. No sacrifice is too much for you. I only wish all parents would come to realize their duties.
Friday, January 6, 2012
Beating hearts...
Adia,
You've been sick this week. You had an ear infection so I've been giving you antibiotic. I hope the illness is gone. You've been pretty restless at night, so that makes for a really tiresome day. Tonight you crawled up into my lap and sat with me. You wanting to be held is a pretty rare thing so it made my heart sing. You looked up at me with such sleepy eyes. So, I rocked you and you fell asleep within seconds. I haven't rocked you to sleep since you were probably 4 months old. I was able to carry you up the stairs and lay you in your crib without disturbing your sweet slumber.
As I was laying you down, my hand could feel your heart beating. Time stopped. I looked at you and thought to myself, "Beating hearts are such miracle. How fragile are our lives and why don't even notice. We are kept alive by a simple beating heart." I went on to thank God for giving me my own living miracle to share this life with. Then I thought, "I don't know what I would do if your heart ever stopped beating.." I know one day each of our hearts will stop beating here on Earth. But I pray to God that mine will stop beating before yours.
You've been sick this week. You had an ear infection so I've been giving you antibiotic. I hope the illness is gone. You've been pretty restless at night, so that makes for a really tiresome day. Tonight you crawled up into my lap and sat with me. You wanting to be held is a pretty rare thing so it made my heart sing. You looked up at me with such sleepy eyes. So, I rocked you and you fell asleep within seconds. I haven't rocked you to sleep since you were probably 4 months old. I was able to carry you up the stairs and lay you in your crib without disturbing your sweet slumber.
As I was laying you down, my hand could feel your heart beating. Time stopped. I looked at you and thought to myself, "Beating hearts are such miracle. How fragile are our lives and why don't even notice. We are kept alive by a simple beating heart." I went on to thank God for giving me my own living miracle to share this life with. Then I thought, "I don't know what I would do if your heart ever stopped beating.." I know one day each of our hearts will stop beating here on Earth. But I pray to God that mine will stop beating before yours.
Monday, December 12, 2011
Before You...
Adia,
Sometimes I look back at pictures of your Daddy and me before we had you. And one day in particular, my first thought when I saw one picture was "We look so lonely without Adia." I thought about that for a while... and it's so true. We were just two random people until we had you. You have made us who we are. We are Adia's Mama and Daddy. Life before you wasn't miserable, but we both knew we were missing something.. and that something was you.
This is the picture that brought that thought to my mind.
It was taken on our honeymoon. We thought we were living the most happiest time of our lives. And it was a happy time; an awesome time! But no time we have ever had is better than the times we spend with you. As I'm writing this I am reminded of the book I got you for your First Valentine's Day, which states an absolute truth... "If you weren't my little girl, there'd be a hole in the world. A piece would be gone; I just couldn't go on. The world wouldn't work without you."
Your Daddy and I love you so incredibly much. You complete us. You make us a family. We are so thankful for the precious memories we get to make with you. We wouldn't trade the life we are living with you for anything!
Sometimes I look back at pictures of your Daddy and me before we had you. And one day in particular, my first thought when I saw one picture was "We look so lonely without Adia." I thought about that for a while... and it's so true. We were just two random people until we had you. You have made us who we are. We are Adia's Mama and Daddy. Life before you wasn't miserable, but we both knew we were missing something.. and that something was you.
This is the picture that brought that thought to my mind.
It was taken on our honeymoon. We thought we were living the most happiest time of our lives. And it was a happy time; an awesome time! But no time we have ever had is better than the times we spend with you. As I'm writing this I am reminded of the book I got you for your First Valentine's Day, which states an absolute truth... "If you weren't my little girl, there'd be a hole in the world. A piece would be gone; I just couldn't go on. The world wouldn't work without you."
Your Daddy and I love you so incredibly much. You complete us. You make us a family. We are so thankful for the precious memories we get to make with you. We wouldn't trade the life we are living with you for anything!
Thursday, November 17, 2011
Painted Finger Nails
Adia,
Last Saturday, I did something I have not done in years... I painted my finger nails! Now, to just anyone having painted fingernails is not a big deal at all. But for me, it is.
From way back, as far as I can first remember Aunt Lib always had her finger nails painted. Even in her sickest days, her daughters would paint her nails... She just would not have anyone see her without her nails done! When I was a little girl sometimes she would give me a manicure. Those were the best times. I felt like I was getting the royal treatment!
Probably a year or so before she left us, she grabbed my hand and flipped it palm side up. She put her hand next to mine and pointed out that we had the same crooked pinkie finger. And we sure did! She said, "You and I are the only ones in the family with this crooked pinkie. But that just means we're something really special, Katie Boo."
As I get older, it becomes more and more noticable how similar my hands are to my Aunt Lib's. I remember, as a child, watching her hands on the stirring wheel. Now I look at mine on the stirring wheel and they look just like hers.
I think I have subconsciously not painted my finger nails, because of the memories it would bring back of my Aunt Lib. Now that I have painted them, I don't think I'll ever stop painting them. The memories my painted nails brought back are good ones; ones I'd like to keep around. I can't wait until you are old enough to start painting your nails so I can tell you this story. And I'm anxious to see if you have our crooked pinkie too! You're my heart, little one.
Last Saturday, I did something I have not done in years... I painted my finger nails! Now, to just anyone having painted fingernails is not a big deal at all. But for me, it is.
From way back, as far as I can first remember Aunt Lib always had her finger nails painted. Even in her sickest days, her daughters would paint her nails... She just would not have anyone see her without her nails done! When I was a little girl sometimes she would give me a manicure. Those were the best times. I felt like I was getting the royal treatment!
Probably a year or so before she left us, she grabbed my hand and flipped it palm side up. She put her hand next to mine and pointed out that we had the same crooked pinkie finger. And we sure did! She said, "You and I are the only ones in the family with this crooked pinkie. But that just means we're something really special, Katie Boo."
As I get older, it becomes more and more noticable how similar my hands are to my Aunt Lib's. I remember, as a child, watching her hands on the stirring wheel. Now I look at mine on the stirring wheel and they look just like hers.
I think I have subconsciously not painted my finger nails, because of the memories it would bring back of my Aunt Lib. Now that I have painted them, I don't think I'll ever stop painting them. The memories my painted nails brought back are good ones; ones I'd like to keep around. I can't wait until you are old enough to start painting your nails so I can tell you this story. And I'm anxious to see if you have our crooked pinkie too! You're my heart, little one.
Tuesday, October 18, 2011
Broken Hearted..
Adia,
There have been so many stories in the news about young kids committing suicide. It is so upsetting to hear about kids so young feeling so helpless. Many of these kids say bullying and non-acceptance is the reason why they just didn't want to live in this world anymore. I would say that a Mother's biggest fear, when it comes to her child, is having to bury him or her. I never want to do that. If your life ended, I think it would also be the end of my life.
Some of these kids were being bullied and were not being accepted by their peers, teachers, and even their parents because of their homosexuality. As a Christian, I do believe what the Bible teaches and the Bible says that homosexuality is a sin. But the lines between right and wrong when it comes to homosexuality are getting more and more blurred for me. I won't get into the 'deep stuff' yet. I know this will be a really confusing discussion to have in the years to come, but I don't believe anyone should ever be that hated by society to where committing suicide is a better option than living.
Some Christians are very hateful, verbally and physically, towards the homosexual population. I don't believe in using Christianity as a right to degrade someone. You have to put yourself in other people's shoes sometimes. I have thought, "What if it were my child that was gay and felt so hated?" It really opened my mind. You would never be without the support of your Mama. I would do everything in my power to make sure you know how important you are and how this world would be a horrible place if you were not in it. It's so heart-breaking to hear that a child's own parents refuses to give that child love because of their homosexuality. I would never reject you.
I just want you to know that no matter how you choose to live your life, you will always have your Mama's love. And if people throughout this life reject you and hate you, I will always try to find the pieces of your broken heart and make it whole again. I love you and you will always be my perfect God-given angel!
There have been so many stories in the news about young kids committing suicide. It is so upsetting to hear about kids so young feeling so helpless. Many of these kids say bullying and non-acceptance is the reason why they just didn't want to live in this world anymore. I would say that a Mother's biggest fear, when it comes to her child, is having to bury him or her. I never want to do that. If your life ended, I think it would also be the end of my life.
Some of these kids were being bullied and were not being accepted by their peers, teachers, and even their parents because of their homosexuality. As a Christian, I do believe what the Bible teaches and the Bible says that homosexuality is a sin. But the lines between right and wrong when it comes to homosexuality are getting more and more blurred for me. I won't get into the 'deep stuff' yet. I know this will be a really confusing discussion to have in the years to come, but I don't believe anyone should ever be that hated by society to where committing suicide is a better option than living.
Some Christians are very hateful, verbally and physically, towards the homosexual population. I don't believe in using Christianity as a right to degrade someone. You have to put yourself in other people's shoes sometimes. I have thought, "What if it were my child that was gay and felt so hated?" It really opened my mind. You would never be without the support of your Mama. I would do everything in my power to make sure you know how important you are and how this world would be a horrible place if you were not in it. It's so heart-breaking to hear that a child's own parents refuses to give that child love because of their homosexuality. I would never reject you.
I just want you to know that no matter how you choose to live your life, you will always have your Mama's love. And if people throughout this life reject you and hate you, I will always try to find the pieces of your broken heart and make it whole again. I love you and you will always be my perfect God-given angel!
Friday, September 2, 2011
Slowing Down..
Adia,
It has been an insanely hot summer this year. Every summer, I read about or see a story on the news of a parent accidentally leaving their baby in the car. It was always sad to me in years past, but now that I have you it absolutely crushes my heart. I cannot imagine a baby being left in such a hot car and how the baby must feel. And I cannot imagine how a parent must feel when they realize what they have done.
When I hear of incidents like this happening, I think to myself, "How could a mother forget that her child is in the car?" It just didn't make sense to me. It still doesn't. But I saw a story of a mother who honestly forgot her child, and it was a fatal mistake that taught her a hard lesson. It taught her to slow down. She was so caught up in her routine and making sure her to-do list for the day was being checked off that she forgot to take her baby out of the car.
My life revolves around you. That's why it's so hard for me to understand forgetting a child. If I forgot to get you out of the car, as soon as I got in the house I would realize you weren't there. But I would never forget you. You are like a part of my body. There is not one waking second that you are not on my mind.
I am lucky to be a stay at home mother. I'm lucky that I don't have to stress about work on top of being a mom. But even if I did work, I still believe I would be just as in tune with you as I am now. I would get to know you just as well as I know you now, even if I was dog-tired from work. Some days it is easy to get caught up in what needs to be washed or what should I make for dinner. But usually I catch myself or you scream for my attention and I realize I need to slow down. For example, I was busy putting clothes in the wash and folding clean clothes while you were fussing in the background. I was aware that you were crying, but didn't let it register that something may be wrong. When I 'woke up' from my housework daze, I stopped to see what was wrong and you were fussing because of an uncomfortable dirty diaper. I felt horrible. But thankfully a dirty diaper isn't life threatening. I know that house work can wait because time I could be spending with you doesn't wait. You will be a grown woman in the blink of an eye. And that housework will still be there! :)
Everything I do is for you. Sometimes I consider getting a job so we can have some extra money. But I would go without many things before giving up the time I get to spend with you. I'd go without eating before you'd go without food. I'd go without getting clothes for myself, before you go without clothes that keep you cool and clothes that keep you warm. You are my priority and I love that.
I know I will never be super mom and I know I will do many more things wrong. But I do try to do the best I can do for you. I don't want to grow old and feel like I missed out on watching you grow up because of housework or because I was focused on myself. Your blue eyes and your sweet smile remind me everyday to slow down and enjoy my time with you! I love you more and more every day.
It has been an insanely hot summer this year. Every summer, I read about or see a story on the news of a parent accidentally leaving their baby in the car. It was always sad to me in years past, but now that I have you it absolutely crushes my heart. I cannot imagine a baby being left in such a hot car and how the baby must feel. And I cannot imagine how a parent must feel when they realize what they have done.
When I hear of incidents like this happening, I think to myself, "How could a mother forget that her child is in the car?" It just didn't make sense to me. It still doesn't. But I saw a story of a mother who honestly forgot her child, and it was a fatal mistake that taught her a hard lesson. It taught her to slow down. She was so caught up in her routine and making sure her to-do list for the day was being checked off that she forgot to take her baby out of the car.
My life revolves around you. That's why it's so hard for me to understand forgetting a child. If I forgot to get you out of the car, as soon as I got in the house I would realize you weren't there. But I would never forget you. You are like a part of my body. There is not one waking second that you are not on my mind.
I am lucky to be a stay at home mother. I'm lucky that I don't have to stress about work on top of being a mom. But even if I did work, I still believe I would be just as in tune with you as I am now. I would get to know you just as well as I know you now, even if I was dog-tired from work. Some days it is easy to get caught up in what needs to be washed or what should I make for dinner. But usually I catch myself or you scream for my attention and I realize I need to slow down. For example, I was busy putting clothes in the wash and folding clean clothes while you were fussing in the background. I was aware that you were crying, but didn't let it register that something may be wrong. When I 'woke up' from my housework daze, I stopped to see what was wrong and you were fussing because of an uncomfortable dirty diaper. I felt horrible. But thankfully a dirty diaper isn't life threatening. I know that house work can wait because time I could be spending with you doesn't wait. You will be a grown woman in the blink of an eye. And that housework will still be there! :)
Everything I do is for you. Sometimes I consider getting a job so we can have some extra money. But I would go without many things before giving up the time I get to spend with you. I'd go without eating before you'd go without food. I'd go without getting clothes for myself, before you go without clothes that keep you cool and clothes that keep you warm. You are my priority and I love that.
I know I will never be super mom and I know I will do many more things wrong. But I do try to do the best I can do for you. I don't want to grow old and feel like I missed out on watching you grow up because of housework or because I was focused on myself. Your blue eyes and your sweet smile remind me everyday to slow down and enjoy my time with you! I love you more and more every day.
Thursday, August 25, 2011
Our Faded La-Z-Boy
The La-Z-Boy was bought by your Papa and Memsie back in 1983. It rocked your Uncle Adam first when he was just a baby, then it rocked me! This chair helped our feelings stop hurting; helped heal our colds. It relieved our fears after a bad nightmare. It soothed us when we had a boo-boo. It was our spot where Mom and Dad would rock our cares or sickness away. When we grew older, it was our amusement ride. We would try to rock the other out of it. It was, basically, our jungle gym.
My parents gave me the chair when Papa got a new one, and I put it in my room. When your Daddy and I first starting dating, I would sit in this chair to write emails to him or to write in my journal about him. Then when Daddy and I got married we took it to our new home. I sat and rocked in it when I was pregnant with you. It was so relaxing to come home from work and recline my swollen legs up in the air to take a cat nap. I would sit in the chair and read to you while you were in my belly. I curled up (as much as I could at 39 weeks pregnant) and cried in this chair when Aunt Lib died.
When you were born, I would sit with you and rock you to sleep. When you would cry, we would rock while listening to music. I would rock you and sing lullabies after feeding you. I would look at you, with tears of joy and disbelief, while rocking you in this faded ole La-Z-Boy.
Now, when you're really sleepy you'll let us rock you in the chair. Mostly you are using it for your jungle gym now. But when you get a boo-boo you come to me; we sit in the chair and start rocking the hurt away.
This faded old recliner isn't much to look at, but it's a part of the family. When you look back at your baby photos and see it in pictures I'm sure your first thought will be, "what an ugly chair" or "why did my parents have that old, ratty looking chair when they could have a new one". This can go for anything in life, it doesn't matter what something or someone looks like, all that matters is how you feel when it comes to the object or person. If I didn't have so many fond memories that involved this chair, then I would think it was ugly too. But when I look at it, I see home and when I sit in it, I am home. Just wanted you to know the history of the ugly chair you will be seeing in many pictures through the years.
Tuesday, August 9, 2011
Aunt Lib, Your Namesake
Adia,
I cannot believe you have been out of the womb for over a year now. Time moves faster the older you get. When you are in school, especially middle through high school, you will think time is going by at such a slow pace. In fact, you may even question whether the Earth is still turning! But as slow as you will think time is dragging, that's how fast I will think time is flying. I wish I could freeze time at any moment, just to soak up the memories. And I wish I could go back to any point in time to relive some memories.
Memories are so precious because no matter how many material things come and go, or how many people live and die; memories can't be taken away. Some of my dearest memories of my childhood involve the trips to Upstate South Carolina to visit my Aunt Lib. She was more like a Grandmother to me and I wish so badly to take you back in time so you could meet her. After all, she is the amazing woman I named you after.
My Aunt Lib's real name was Elizabeth. No words will ever be able to describe the person she was, but I will try to put down in words how important she was to me.
Aunt Lib was my mom's oldest sister. When Memsie was 17, her mom died. And just a few years later her dad died. So, all my mom had were her siblings. Aunt Lib stepped into the mom role in Memsie's life. Memsie was extremely close to Aunt Lib, so naturally I became very close to her as well. Aunt Lib would always say I was like a daughter to her.
I never doubted that she loved me unconditionally. She never forgot my birthday. Even though she hardly had any extra money, she would always send me something. She would let me come stay with her for a week during the summer when I was a child. I remember those summers like they happened yesterday. She would tell me stories of the Stephens' side of the family. I loved hearing about my grandparents that I never met. When we would go out on a drive somewhere, she would always let me hold the stirring wheel so I could "drive". And if I ever happened to be visiting her on a Saturday morning, we would go get a Hardee's Chicken Biscuit and a Coke. Visiting her was like being in a different world, a perfect world. When I would leave to go back home to Florence, she would hug me so hard it hurt. And she would say, "I love you, my Katie Boo."
Gosh, I miss so many things about her. The things I miss most are her hugs, her laugh, and the way she made me feel like I was someone so special. I could be talking about the most ridiculous and stupid things, yet she would listen with her full attention on me. She had a way of building up my self esteem. She never thought of herself first at any point in her life. She did so many things in her community and so many people respected her and thought so highly of her. She was not soft spoken by any means, and if you did or said something she didn't like, she would definitely let you know. I think that's why so many people liked her. She was a true, honest person and that's really hard to find these days.
The Saturday morning Hardee's tradition continued until she was no longer able to eat the chicken biscuits anymore because of her pain. And the hugs continued until her strength weakened. I can't eat Hardee's chicken biscuits again yet. And I miss those hugs, desperately.
Aunt Lib was diagnosed with cancer. We had great faith that she would surely be able to beat the cancer. She is by far the strongest woman I have ever known. She would go through some bad months and then she'd start doing better. But, I guess, God wanted her to be closer to Him. I was so angry when she died. I cried out to God to ask him, "Why now? She suffered all these years and you take her the week before my baby is born?" I was so angry that she wasn't able to meet you at least once. She was so excited for me and she couldn't wait to see you. She was happy to finally have something to look forward to. I still don't understand why the timing was the way it was, but I'm not angry at God. I'm just sad when I think about it.
Shortly after you were born, I was watching some show on TV and a lady said she believed that one soul from a family must die, so another one could be born into that family. I'm not sure if I like that saying or not. But it somehow made me feel better because I already see so much of her in you. You have her face and her spirit. I think I will have my hands full for the rest of my life trying to keep up with you. But I will love every minute of it. Nothing could make me prouder than if you were just like your Great Aunt Lib.. She was an all-around amazing woman and as soon as I knew the baby in my womb was a girl, I knew exactly what your middle name was going to be... Elizabeth.
I love you Adia Elizabeth!!
I cannot believe you have been out of the womb for over a year now. Time moves faster the older you get. When you are in school, especially middle through high school, you will think time is going by at such a slow pace. In fact, you may even question whether the Earth is still turning! But as slow as you will think time is dragging, that's how fast I will think time is flying. I wish I could freeze time at any moment, just to soak up the memories. And I wish I could go back to any point in time to relive some memories.
Memories are so precious because no matter how many material things come and go, or how many people live and die; memories can't be taken away. Some of my dearest memories of my childhood involve the trips to Upstate South Carolina to visit my Aunt Lib. She was more like a Grandmother to me and I wish so badly to take you back in time so you could meet her. After all, she is the amazing woman I named you after.
My Aunt Lib's real name was Elizabeth. No words will ever be able to describe the person she was, but I will try to put down in words how important she was to me.
Aunt Lib was my mom's oldest sister. When Memsie was 17, her mom died. And just a few years later her dad died. So, all my mom had were her siblings. Aunt Lib stepped into the mom role in Memsie's life. Memsie was extremely close to Aunt Lib, so naturally I became very close to her as well. Aunt Lib would always say I was like a daughter to her.
I never doubted that she loved me unconditionally. She never forgot my birthday. Even though she hardly had any extra money, she would always send me something. She would let me come stay with her for a week during the summer when I was a child. I remember those summers like they happened yesterday. She would tell me stories of the Stephens' side of the family. I loved hearing about my grandparents that I never met. When we would go out on a drive somewhere, she would always let me hold the stirring wheel so I could "drive". And if I ever happened to be visiting her on a Saturday morning, we would go get a Hardee's Chicken Biscuit and a Coke. Visiting her was like being in a different world, a perfect world. When I would leave to go back home to Florence, she would hug me so hard it hurt. And she would say, "I love you, my Katie Boo."
Gosh, I miss so many things about her. The things I miss most are her hugs, her laugh, and the way she made me feel like I was someone so special. I could be talking about the most ridiculous and stupid things, yet she would listen with her full attention on me. She had a way of building up my self esteem. She never thought of herself first at any point in her life. She did so many things in her community and so many people respected her and thought so highly of her. She was not soft spoken by any means, and if you did or said something she didn't like, she would definitely let you know. I think that's why so many people liked her. She was a true, honest person and that's really hard to find these days.
The Saturday morning Hardee's tradition continued until she was no longer able to eat the chicken biscuits anymore because of her pain. And the hugs continued until her strength weakened. I can't eat Hardee's chicken biscuits again yet. And I miss those hugs, desperately.
Aunt Lib was diagnosed with cancer. We had great faith that she would surely be able to beat the cancer. She is by far the strongest woman I have ever known. She would go through some bad months and then she'd start doing better. But, I guess, God wanted her to be closer to Him. I was so angry when she died. I cried out to God to ask him, "Why now? She suffered all these years and you take her the week before my baby is born?" I was so angry that she wasn't able to meet you at least once. She was so excited for me and she couldn't wait to see you. She was happy to finally have something to look forward to. I still don't understand why the timing was the way it was, but I'm not angry at God. I'm just sad when I think about it.
Shortly after you were born, I was watching some show on TV and a lady said she believed that one soul from a family must die, so another one could be born into that family. I'm not sure if I like that saying or not. But it somehow made me feel better because I already see so much of her in you. You have her face and her spirit. I think I will have my hands full for the rest of my life trying to keep up with you. But I will love every minute of it. Nothing could make me prouder than if you were just like your Great Aunt Lib.. She was an all-around amazing woman and as soon as I knew the baby in my womb was a girl, I knew exactly what your middle name was going to be... Elizabeth.
I love you Adia Elizabeth!!
Monday, June 13, 2011
A New Life
Adia,
Well, Little One, we will soon be celebrating your first birthday. The year has flown by in a way, but then again it feels like you've been here forever. I can hardly remember what it was like holding you when you were just 6 pounds and 11 ounces. I tell myself not to be sucked into missing you as a newborn baby, because then I would miss all the new and crazy things you are learning to do now! But, I'd like to reminiscence just a little bit right now so I can share your birth story.
The week of June 20th, 2010 I started noticing some cramp-like pains in my belly. But I didn't realize they were contractions because they would only stick around for half a day. I just thought they were little muscle pains from my big belly. On Thursday June 24th, I woke up with contractions and they continued throughout the day. I called Memsie around 2 o'clock in the afternoon to tell her about the pains. She came over to my house and we started to time how far apart the contractions were coming. By 5 o'clock in the evening, the contractions were coming 2-3 minutes apart. I knew I should head to the hospital soon.
Your Daddy was at work until 9 o'clock that night. So, I called Daddy and said, "I think I want to go ahead to the hospital when you get home." Well, apparently he sensed no urgency in my voice, because when he got home he took a shower and packed like we were going on a week long vacation! I was thinking to myself, "Well, maybe I should leave without him." I was trying to remain calm, so I gently said, "Eddie, I'm seriously in labor - it's not super painful, but I just really don't want to have this baby here." After about 30-45 minutes we were finally ready to head to McLeod Hospital.
We arrived at the hospital around 10:30 that night. They admitted me into the Labor and Delivery section so they could verify whether or not I was in labor. They offered me a wheelchair and I said, "No thanks, I'm able to walk. We'll save the wheelchair for afterward." Once we got placed in a room, I laid down on the bed with a monitor strapped to my belly. The monitor determined that sure enough, I was in active labor. The nurse said I was 3 centimeters dilated. With my contractions being so hard and fast, she suspected that we'd have you in a few hours. But, there was a different plan en route. Around 12 o'clock, I got an epidural. (If you're reading this when you're a grown woman and in favor of a natural birth..Sorry, but your Mama likes drugs) Actually, I got two epidurals because the first one didn't work in the area the nurse first stuck me. I was told by moms that the epidural was the worst part, but I didn't feel it going into my back either time.
Honestly, I was never in any real pain, even before the epidural. The nurses were shocked that I walked up to the unit without any assistance. And they were surprised how well I was taking the contractions. At one point Memsie said, "Are the contractions hurting pretty bad?" My response was, "No, they aren't bad at all. They just feel like cramps." The nurse, while looking at the contractions monitor, said, "Um, no, they are pretty bad contractions. You must have an extremely high pain tolerance." This is my secret to getting through what you know is going to be painful - Imagine the very worst pain possible. If you expect it to be horrible and if you expect it to keep getting worse, you are going to get through it just fine. But I still got the epidural anyway.
Around 1 o'clock in the morning, on June 25th, the doctor finally broke my water. By 5 o'clock that morning I was ready to start pushing and at 8:30 that same morning I was still pushing. I was highly exhausted from not sleeping at all through the night and from three and a half hours of pushing. Finally, the doctor realized that you were not going to be able to fit through my bones. And by that time, I had completely stopped contracting!! The doctor decided to do an emergency c-section. The following few minutes were pretty scary because nurses were flocking in prepping me for surgery. I was so overwhelmed by the fast paced emergency mode, I cried. I think it was a combination of exhaustion, relief and nervousness.
But hallelujah, you were born at 9:05 in the morning on June 25th, 2010 - which was your actual DUE DATE!! You weighed 6 pounds 11 ounces and you were 20 inches long.
Everything else in the whole world didn't matter anymore. A new little life was finally here. You were finally in our arms. And, yes, I would do it all over again.
I love you so much, my sweet Little One!
Well, Little One, we will soon be celebrating your first birthday. The year has flown by in a way, but then again it feels like you've been here forever. I can hardly remember what it was like holding you when you were just 6 pounds and 11 ounces. I tell myself not to be sucked into missing you as a newborn baby, because then I would miss all the new and crazy things you are learning to do now! But, I'd like to reminiscence just a little bit right now so I can share your birth story.
The week of June 20th, 2010 I started noticing some cramp-like pains in my belly. But I didn't realize they were contractions because they would only stick around for half a day. I just thought they were little muscle pains from my big belly. On Thursday June 24th, I woke up with contractions and they continued throughout the day. I called Memsie around 2 o'clock in the afternoon to tell her about the pains. She came over to my house and we started to time how far apart the contractions were coming. By 5 o'clock in the evening, the contractions were coming 2-3 minutes apart. I knew I should head to the hospital soon.
Your Daddy was at work until 9 o'clock that night. So, I called Daddy and said, "I think I want to go ahead to the hospital when you get home." Well, apparently he sensed no urgency in my voice, because when he got home he took a shower and packed like we were going on a week long vacation! I was thinking to myself, "Well, maybe I should leave without him." I was trying to remain calm, so I gently said, "Eddie, I'm seriously in labor - it's not super painful, but I just really don't want to have this baby here." After about 30-45 minutes we were finally ready to head to McLeod Hospital.
We arrived at the hospital around 10:30 that night. They admitted me into the Labor and Delivery section so they could verify whether or not I was in labor. They offered me a wheelchair and I said, "No thanks, I'm able to walk. We'll save the wheelchair for afterward." Once we got placed in a room, I laid down on the bed with a monitor strapped to my belly. The monitor determined that sure enough, I was in active labor. The nurse said I was 3 centimeters dilated. With my contractions being so hard and fast, she suspected that we'd have you in a few hours. But, there was a different plan en route. Around 12 o'clock, I got an epidural. (If you're reading this when you're a grown woman and in favor of a natural birth..Sorry, but your Mama likes drugs) Actually, I got two epidurals because the first one didn't work in the area the nurse first stuck me. I was told by moms that the epidural was the worst part, but I didn't feel it going into my back either time.
 |
| Pretty & swollen. Before epidural. |
Honestly, I was never in any real pain, even before the epidural. The nurses were shocked that I walked up to the unit without any assistance. And they were surprised how well I was taking the contractions. At one point Memsie said, "Are the contractions hurting pretty bad?" My response was, "No, they aren't bad at all. They just feel like cramps." The nurse, while looking at the contractions monitor, said, "Um, no, they are pretty bad contractions. You must have an extremely high pain tolerance." This is my secret to getting through what you know is going to be painful - Imagine the very worst pain possible. If you expect it to be horrible and if you expect it to keep getting worse, you are going to get through it just fine. But I still got the epidural anyway.
Around 1 o'clock in the morning, on June 25th, the doctor finally broke my water. By 5 o'clock that morning I was ready to start pushing and at 8:30 that same morning I was still pushing. I was highly exhausted from not sleeping at all through the night and from three and a half hours of pushing. Finally, the doctor realized that you were not going to be able to fit through my bones. And by that time, I had completely stopped contracting!! The doctor decided to do an emergency c-section. The following few minutes were pretty scary because nurses were flocking in prepping me for surgery. I was so overwhelmed by the fast paced emergency mode, I cried. I think it was a combination of exhaustion, relief and nervousness.
But hallelujah, you were born at 9:05 in the morning on June 25th, 2010 - which was your actual DUE DATE!! You weighed 6 pounds 11 ounces and you were 20 inches long.
 |
| Going home on Sunday June 27, 2010 |
Everything else in the whole world didn't matter anymore. A new little life was finally here. You were finally in our arms. And, yes, I would do it all over again.
I love you so much, my sweet Little One!
Sunday, May 8, 2011
First Mother's Day
Adia,
Words can't begin to describe what being your mommy means to me. I feel so blessed that God entrusted me with you. He purposely designed you just for me and I am in such awe of having a beautiful little girl to call my daughter. I definitely do not deserve to have such an amazing gift from God, but I'm so thankful He gave you to me.
Not a day goes by that I don't look at you and thank God. You are my heart. I love you beyond understanding. And I don't think I could count on six hands the amount of "I love you's" I say a day. I couldn't count the amount of kisses I give or the amount of hugs. I promise, not a day will go by without me telling you I love you, no matter how 'uncool' it may be to you in the future. And you will always have more hugs than you can stand.
When you were a newborn, I would just sit and watch you sleep. Even now that you're getting close to the one year mark, I still love to watch you sleep. It's always been so hard to not touch you or pick you up and hold you close. But I know you need your sleep, so I resist the temptation to hold you...most the time.
Loving you came so incredibly natural. I have some faults when it comes to the whole motherhood thing, but loving you is not one.
I watch in amazement of all the news things you are learning to do on your own. Even though it's already starting to break my heart, I'm excited to watch you grow. I look forward to teaching you new things and you teaching me new things.
I always knew that one day I would be a mom. I just had no idea when it would happen. God knew I needed my own little angel on earth, and on June 25th 2010 my little angel was born. You are a masterpiece and I will never be able to describe how it feels to know that God chose ME to be your Mommy. How did I ever get so lucky?!
Words can't begin to describe what being your mommy means to me. I feel so blessed that God entrusted me with you. He purposely designed you just for me and I am in such awe of having a beautiful little girl to call my daughter. I definitely do not deserve to have such an amazing gift from God, but I'm so thankful He gave you to me.
Not a day goes by that I don't look at you and thank God. You are my heart. I love you beyond understanding. And I don't think I could count on six hands the amount of "I love you's" I say a day. I couldn't count the amount of kisses I give or the amount of hugs. I promise, not a day will go by without me telling you I love you, no matter how 'uncool' it may be to you in the future. And you will always have more hugs than you can stand.
When you were a newborn, I would just sit and watch you sleep. Even now that you're getting close to the one year mark, I still love to watch you sleep. It's always been so hard to not touch you or pick you up and hold you close. But I know you need your sleep, so I resist the temptation to hold you...most the time.
Loving you came so incredibly natural. I have some faults when it comes to the whole motherhood thing, but loving you is not one.
I watch in amazement of all the news things you are learning to do on your own. Even though it's already starting to break my heart, I'm excited to watch you grow. I look forward to teaching you new things and you teaching me new things.
I always knew that one day I would be a mom. I just had no idea when it would happen. God knew I needed my own little angel on earth, and on June 25th 2010 my little angel was born. You are a masterpiece and I will never be able to describe how it feels to know that God chose ME to be your Mommy. How did I ever get so lucky?!
Wednesday, April 27, 2011
Scarlet Letter
Adia,
Sometimes I worry about the world we have brought you into. I know we will do our very best to teach you how to be strong and survive, but even with all our teaching, I know you are bound to experience hurt. The hardest part about being a parent is that you can't protect your child from everything or everyone. Sometimes the people that cause the most hurt will be the people you have know for the longest time. And the way those people will hurt you is through gossip or rejection.
When you're a bit older, you will realize that Mom & Dad had only been married 6 months before you joined our family. But you had perfect timing, or rather, God had perfect timing. Some may have called me harsh names. Some may forever look at me completely different. Some may forever gossip about "the preacher's daughter", and I do mean forever. But that's totally A-OK because, as The Good Book says, "Let he without sin cast the first stone." And, just so you know, no one is without sin.
Some may say you were an accident or even a mistake. But it doesn't matter what they say. I can't say it was a mistake, because you are the best thing that has ever happened to me. God knew exactly what he was doing. I'm not sure if I (or Memsie) would have made it through the grieving process of my Aunt Lib's death if it weren't for you.
I do feel as though I wear a scarlet letter when I'm around certain people. But, you know what? I've always loved the book and I wear this scarlet letter proudly. I will never be ashamed of loving your father and I will never be ashamed of having you.
Rumors and gossip will always exist. Just remember, the people who matter will love you unconditionally, no matter what is said about you or what you have done. I love you and you were put in my life at the exact moment you were meant to be. No matter how wrong one may consider it. Always walk with your head held high because only God can judge us and the only forgiveness that matters is His.
Sometimes I worry about the world we have brought you into. I know we will do our very best to teach you how to be strong and survive, but even with all our teaching, I know you are bound to experience hurt. The hardest part about being a parent is that you can't protect your child from everything or everyone. Sometimes the people that cause the most hurt will be the people you have know for the longest time. And the way those people will hurt you is through gossip or rejection.
When you're a bit older, you will realize that Mom & Dad had only been married 6 months before you joined our family. But you had perfect timing, or rather, God had perfect timing. Some may have called me harsh names. Some may forever look at me completely different. Some may forever gossip about "the preacher's daughter", and I do mean forever. But that's totally A-OK because, as The Good Book says, "Let he without sin cast the first stone." And, just so you know, no one is without sin.
Some may say you were an accident or even a mistake. But it doesn't matter what they say. I can't say it was a mistake, because you are the best thing that has ever happened to me. God knew exactly what he was doing. I'm not sure if I (or Memsie) would have made it through the grieving process of my Aunt Lib's death if it weren't for you.
I do feel as though I wear a scarlet letter when I'm around certain people. But, you know what? I've always loved the book and I wear this scarlet letter proudly. I will never be ashamed of loving your father and I will never be ashamed of having you.
Rumors and gossip will always exist. Just remember, the people who matter will love you unconditionally, no matter what is said about you or what you have done. I love you and you were put in my life at the exact moment you were meant to be. No matter how wrong one may consider it. Always walk with your head held high because only God can judge us and the only forgiveness that matters is His.
Sunday, February 6, 2011
Another move...
Adia,
I now have experienced the "mother hen" feeling. My world felt like it was breaking into pieces last night when I didn't have control over your or your Daddy's safety in our own home. I understand why movies sometimes portray the mother as the one who seeks revenge on those who have hurt her family. I understand why there is only a Queen Bee in the hive. I understand why the Statue of Liberty is a woman. I understand why hunters always fear the mother bear will be very near to the cub they have in sight. Women are strong in a fight; we are brave in the face of uncertainty. And we are tireless when it comes to protecting our family. As a mother, I want a home where my family will never cease to feel secure, safe, and worry free. We should never feel unprotected by the four walls around us. Unfortunately, these feelings have ceased in this home and we are not certain of our safety here. But I won't allow my family to live in fear. So, not even 12 hours later we found a new home. And we will move again and again in order to provide you with a home that will be your safe-haven.
You should never let anyone intimidate you, whether they are man or woman. But you should never allow your family to stay in a harmful environment. No matter what sacrifices you have to make, you must always take it to the limit, even possibly over the limit, when protecting your family. And remember, sometimes you can't wait for the authorities to make things right. You have to take initiative and remove yourself from danger.
And as your enemy stares you down thinking he has defeated you because of your decision to retreat, stare right back at him with your matriarch eyes until he has to question who defeated whom.
I will always go to the extreme when it comes to you and your Daddy. I would die for you; I would kill for you. All in the name of my love for you.
I now have experienced the "mother hen" feeling. My world felt like it was breaking into pieces last night when I didn't have control over your or your Daddy's safety in our own home. I understand why movies sometimes portray the mother as the one who seeks revenge on those who have hurt her family. I understand why there is only a Queen Bee in the hive. I understand why the Statue of Liberty is a woman. I understand why hunters always fear the mother bear will be very near to the cub they have in sight. Women are strong in a fight; we are brave in the face of uncertainty. And we are tireless when it comes to protecting our family. As a mother, I want a home where my family will never cease to feel secure, safe, and worry free. We should never feel unprotected by the four walls around us. Unfortunately, these feelings have ceased in this home and we are not certain of our safety here. But I won't allow my family to live in fear. So, not even 12 hours later we found a new home. And we will move again and again in order to provide you with a home that will be your safe-haven.
You should never let anyone intimidate you, whether they are man or woman. But you should never allow your family to stay in a harmful environment. No matter what sacrifices you have to make, you must always take it to the limit, even possibly over the limit, when protecting your family. And remember, sometimes you can't wait for the authorities to make things right. You have to take initiative and remove yourself from danger.
And as your enemy stares you down thinking he has defeated you because of your decision to retreat, stare right back at him with your matriarch eyes until he has to question who defeated whom.
I will always go to the extreme when it comes to you and your Daddy. I would die for you; I would kill for you. All in the name of my love for you.
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