The Ultimate Journey ~ C.L. Anderson

            We take many journeys in our lifetime. I think the journey from your parents’ household to running your own ranks in the top 10 for sure. We live through differing stages in our lives without ever thinking twice about it. We talk with our friends and hold some of those friends more intimate than others. For me, getting through everyday life was interesting to say the least. I spent most of my time trying to figure out a good painless way to check out because I hated the school I was in, couldn’t stand my parents and my moms’ friends were all losers who lived in an altered worldly sense of reality. Obviously that didn’t work, you’re reading this now.

            My road trip through life has seen some interesting things but more importantly; I’ve been able to see parenthood. The time in your life when you sacrifice every single thing for this little person that looks up at you with big round eyes and calls you mom or dad brings a journey that takes you through more perils and triumphs than you ever thought existed. Were we this emotional, irrational, immature at a young age? I’m sure we were, but we were also more mature; we had to be. Most of us were left to figure things out ourselves due to the fact that our parents worked. We did what we were told (for the most part) and had it done before they got home and that was that. Somehow our turn as parents seems vastly different than our own parents. Our journeys seem so much more outrageous you really start to wonder if the hospital sent you home with the wrong kid. There’s no way something born from me could act that way, think that way, just BE that way. The journey of parenthood, don’t we all just love it?

            The next journey is the one we take with our friendships and acquaintances. You’ve seen me write about friendships and what they really mean and the actual number of people you can call a true friend, did you agree? We meet a lot of people throughout our lives, some we call friends and some are on that drive by tip; we call those acquaintances. A lot of people don’t realize that the people you know actually take you on a different journey on a constant basis, sometimes good, sometimes not so good. Each person that comes into your life seems like a new journey for you to take and learn something. As a mom, I’ve learned a lot from watching the people that have come into and out of my son’s life. Some of his choices of friends I’ve liked, some of his choices of friends had me wanting to meet the parent and slap the stupid out of them for putting such a product on this planet. Have you ever found yourself thinking things are déjà vu when it comes to your kids’ friends? I have all the time. They’ve always seemed to need something and always wanted a ride. I’ve often thought for kids coming from two parent homes, they’re a lot needier than my single parent son. The journey of the teen years ROUND 2. Funny, I didn’t enjoy round two as much as I enjoyed round one.

            I’d like to think I’ve cultivated a close network of friends that I don’t mind sharing things with. You all know I’ll put anything on Facebook, but there are things that I only share with a certain few. I enjoy watching the journeys my friends are taking. I’ve seen religious journeys, food journeys, self evolution journeys and a lot more. The self evolution journeys are the most fun to watch, don’t get me wrong; anytime someone discovers something about themselves it’s a good thing. I just find it funny that it took someone all these years to see what most people saw way back when. I guess as long as you figure it out sometime it’s a good thing. I don’t trust easily and I for sure don’t trust a lot of people; so if you’re one that I’ve been writing to personally that shows you are truly appreciated.

            All of these things are ways to prepare us for some of the toughest things we may have to face in life. This is when you find out if you’ve cultivated the right mix of friends to share your most intimate thoughts, good or bad. Think about this: for some reason, everyone loves to hear bad news…about someone else. Don’t deny it; you all have someone or several someone (s) that you hardly hear from; write something public about something that isn’t good and presto!!!! You have everyone trying to find out what’s going on, and the need to know is what???? All of a sudden they like everything you put up or texting hoping you answer. I call that trolling, the ones that never really say anything; just go on your page to see what’s being said, waiting to see something bad so they can pipe in and ask what, who, how. Those are the ones I like to say “hey, if you were actually paying attention, you wouldn’t have to ask all these questions” or “hey, I haven’t heard from you in how long? Now you want to know what’s going on….ummm no” That’s the equivalent of a person dying and all these people that never kept in touch showing up saying all these nice things.

            So this is where all of this finds me; on another journey. This is a journey that will be long, but ultimately will be my last journey. I’m ok with that because there’s still a hell of a lot of smaller journeys I can take along the way. There’s a small circle of friends that I have allowed to hop on this crazy journey with me, I promise to take you on a crazy ride and keep it funny. This does not mean I want the obligatory “I’m sorry” posts coming in, hell get over yourself! I don’t want the post saying we need to get together, I’ve lived in the burbs my whole life and we haven’t really gotten together so let’s just keep things the way they are. I’m not a prayer warrior by any means, but I have one in my corner, guess I’m lucky like that. To the fantastic seven, sit back and relax; to those that don’t admit to reading everything I write, you sit back and enjoy as well. I’m going to Carla up and take you all on the ultimate journey!~ Just my two cents

Self Redemption Leading To Self Acceptance~ C.L. Anderson

            Redemption: to reclaim, absolve and atone. If we believe what we were taught in our younger years, we will spend our entire lives looking for some type of redemption. We are taught that if we pay a man to wear a very expensive robe he will be able to offer redemption and you will be atoned for your sins. We are told that darn near everything we do, we will have to seek some type of redemption; heck we even get slips of paper that can be redeemed for a percentage off your groceries. So while you are busy seeking some type of absolution from another human being, did it ever occur to just practice self redemption?

            The road to self redemption is a lot longer than the perceived road to perdition. I think I’ve travelled this road many times; yet I’m still feeling close enough to perdition that my toes are burned. It’s easier to stay set on that burning path instead of opening your heart to yourself and allowing your inner self to accept and redeem from within. It takes a lot to realize that no one person can give you what you seek and no one person can say you are forgiven for whatever you’ve done or have thought of doing. Sometimes, these lessons manifest quickly and one can move on through this life with satisfaction. For others, myself included, we need to be smacked around and driven to that fork in the road. You know that fork; the one where the road is shiny on one side and crappy looking and beat up on the other side. As I sit here pondering my own travelled worn out roads, I think I definitely don’t want to reclaim anything.   I don’t recall asking for any type of atonement for any of my actions, now that doesn’t mean I’ve done nothing wrong, this is me we’re talking about.

I remember when my brother first went to Ohio, my mom missed him something fierce. I on the other hand, well let’s just say I didn’t miss him that much. So I had these thoughts floating through my head, do I seek redemption??? I think not. Of course his choice of girlfriends just solidified the thoughts I had. His choices were not great, then again when do any of us make perfect decisions. My brother has been gone seven years come October, all I can say is time flies and will not slow down for anyone. My brother was a momma’s boy, which was made quite clear. I was the smart one and stayed to myself. We were a family of four until my parents divorced. Now half my family is gone, makes you think about a lot.

I always said you can’t choose your family but you do choose your friends. I tell ya, I got the short end of the stick on that one too. I used to hang out with the most ignorant group of people. They bowled with my mom and when I was younger, I thought they were pretty cool. As I became an adult, I wondered why my mom stopped being around these people. Even after the “token black jokes” I didn’t wake up. I think it took one too many parties with my “friends” letting me drive home a little too tipsy that got the message through to my head. This was a group of ladies that were hell bent on being drunk most weekends and the night of bowling. Exit stage left. I’ve had so called friends tell me I’d be a good friend if I would just indulge with the foreign substance they chose to snort up their nostrils. That wouldn’t have worked for me, I hate using nose drops.

            So here’s where self redemption comes to play. I can’t go back and correct a lot of bad choices I’ve made. Why would I want to reclaim any of that anyway? To own it, ha; I lived through it so I already own it. Seems the things that happened in the past need their due place…in the past. Now, as for things that happen from this point forward, just say it’s a work in progress. I look at my contribution to this planet and lately I’ve spent a lot of time wanting to figure out a way to put that contribution back. My contribution will be 19 this weekend and weighing heavily on my heart is how much puberty can change innocence into master jackass status. Just the thought of the dramatic difference brings tightness to my chest. This is the part in my life when I blame myself for the things that go awry, not that I blame myself on purpose; it just happens to get tossed in my lap. When you see this contribution of my mine, you think oh what a great individual, sweetheart, blah blah blah. Reality is, you don’t live with the contribution. Sounds like I’m talking about a disposable commodity huh? Well the truth is, at a certain age your contribution makes you feel like YOU have become disposable. An ignorance rises up so fast and far you would swear the devil himself implanted some type of wire leads in the brain and whenever your contribution chooses to actually let you in their world, hit the switch and your contribution instantaneously becomes your worst nightmare.

            I’m slowly learning to accept things as they are; they may or may not change. I see no need for redemption, absolution or anything else along that matter. From here on out the only thing I plan to redeem is my sanity. The world will go on whether I’m in it or not. Learning to get back to me and letting go of my contribution is hard. I’m still wicked in some ways, for example, to see this contribution fall on his face just once will bring a smile to my face. You can’t be a jerk forever and expect good things to continue to happen. I guess at that young age we were all jerks. Hmmm, guess maturity and mother wit is a type of redemption after all. How about this; full redemption is already within you. You can’t live to please everyone so don’t try. The reality is you don’t need to go someplace else to ask for redemption just to go out and do the same thing again. Reality, if you really want to seek out some type of redemption, go online and get yourself ordained, then you can do all the redeeming you want. Whatever you choose from here on out, remember; redemption begins when you accept yourself. ~Just my two cents

No One Really Wants Complete Honesty- C.L. Anderson

            Do you believe that title is true? Are you one that is always honest? Are you honest with everyone, or do you pick and choose when you want to be honest as to not hurt someone’s feelings? After really thinking about it, I actually fall in the middle. I don’t lie, but sometimes I do choose to keep quiet, I know hard to believe right? We teach our kids to be honest (knowing as they get older things do tend to be a little south of the truth) yet we aren’t completely honest with them. Why is that? Partly because we don’t want to hurt their feelings and as they get older they spend most of their teen years in denial, so why waste your breath.

            Let’s ruffle some feathers here. How many people would you consider true friends? Now think carefully before you answer that. The reality is, we know many people and consider many people to be friends, but if something happened and you needed a friend in an emergency at some ungodly hour who would you call? I know a lot of people that say “if you need something call me”; they really hope you don’t call. Of course there’s the opposite, you have kids that are overly generous with your personal time, money and transportation. Oh yes, you’ve taught them to be kind hearted and generous and they turn that around and you’re the one that ends up being kind and generous on their behalf. You know this is true, think about it; how many times have you provided transportation to your kids’ friends and you really didn’t want to? They have those couple of friends that lack in the hygiene area and they seem to be the ones that always need a ride and your kid is more than willing to say “let me ask my mom”. Sounds like I’ve been down that road more than a few times, huh? Of course you say yes when you really would rather say no and there goes that honesty angel, out the window.

            Let’s throw some complete honesty out there without naming names and watch the feathers ruffle. First off, when you put clothing on a body that is over 300 pounds and your face looks like features were just thrown on to a blob of skin, there is nothing in the world that will make you look good. However, if you utilize some soap and deodorant, you may smell a hell of a lot better. You over there, stop thinking you’re all that and a bag of chips, wake your butt up, that ship sailed a long time ago. You could never catch so stop trying to catch a long lost youth. What are you trying to smile at? Please close your mouth, your teeth are more yellow than butter and look like they were filed down to little nubs. You were willing to let someone else get blamed for you embezzling money? Death isn’t even good enough for your scumbag behind. Really, you think you’re that cute? Ok, if homely equals cuteness now; sometimes people are given gifts they don’t deserve, but of course if a person gets stuck into it, I guess you make sure one way or the other you’re never alone.  You may be talented but talent will only get you so far; check that attitude and stop feeling like the world owes you something. That pyramid scheme you were running and trying to get others to join…yea, how’s that working out for you now? You were phony way back in the day and you’re still phony now.

            These are some of the things I keep to myself, but if I’m asked I will speak the truth. Would you do the same? If I said name your best friend, would you think about it so as to not offend someone else or would you just name the person. When my mom died, I told people that had known my mom for years and some of my friends. Well, one friend didn’t even remember the phone call the next day and another said the familiar “call me..blah blah blah”. Well, at the risk of ruffling feathers, let’s just say meet the middle finger to both of them. A friend that had never met my mom was there, now that’s a friend. That meant a lot. That also happens to be a person that doesn’t bite their tongue either.

            So why is it people don’t want complete honesty? No one really has the answer to that question. I would like to think that sometimes people are afraid to face their own truths so they don’t want someone else pointing them out. That actually sounds logical, but then I’m the one that says “ok, you know this to be true, don’t you think others notice as well”. I am one that likes honesty, even if it pisses me off, I can respect that person more. I love it when a person admits they don’t agree with what I write, that creates an open dialogue and maybe we can both learn from each other’s point of view. What I dislike is the person that publicly tries to blast you for what you say, then remove themselves leaving you no way to respond. That is the cowards’ way out and what little self respect that person had is probably sitting in the bottle they’re drinking from. Think about it; if there were more honesty amongst friends don’t you think the trickle affect would happen? Honesty starts with friends and family, as we get older; we start to realize more and more that this really is a small world.  Take a look at your friends’ list and you will see that somebody knows a few people that you know or someone is friends with people you don’t like. Wow, that six degrees of separation stuff is true.

            It makes sense that I say your friends before puberty are the ones you tend keep in touch with. They are the ones that knew you before you started making up this fake persona you wanted everyone else to see; wait, there was one that was fake then too. They are the ones that knew you before you perfected that less than honest behavior you have. I keep things as real as I can; I have no problems putting it out there if I’m happy or if I really dislike something. I also stand by the saying if you don’t like what I say then kindly remove yourself from my page. Exercise your right to make your leave quietly, I probably won’t notice anyway. I guess I’m as guilty as the next person when it comes to 100% complete honesty, but I guarantee you I’m more honest than even you can handle. ~Just my two cents

            

When Mom Is No Longer There C. L. Anderson

            This weekend we celebrate Mother’s Day. This is the day that phone lines stay busy half the day because everyone wants to call Mom and catch up for a bit. You can almost smell the flowers, can’t you? Moms put up with a lot of …. well, for lack of a better word…. CRAP. On top of the crap, moms deal with a revitalized upheaval of men telling them how much they should make, how long they should get maternity leave and what if any, of their basic rights they should be ALLOWED to have. For those lucky enough to still have their moms with them, for at least that one day, I hope they swallow those words and give their mom ALL the praise she deserves.

            We see the rhetoric against women every day, but do we stop to think there is a mom behind that person delivering such rhetoric? Do we stop to think of what she may be thinking or how she’s feeling? I know my first thought after listening to some of these people is how they can kiss their moms with those mouths; not only their moms, but their wives; the mother of their children (insert perfect family photo op here). To those long suffering, held in the background, BACK BONE of the family I say Happy Mother’s Day to you! These men know, without mom and wife, they wouldn’t be here. Let’s see them bear children, nurse them when they’re sick, show up at all school functions and a plethora of other things. Now, I do realize there are some men that do these things, sit down and shut up, I’ll get to you in June.

            On a serious note, this is the second Mother’s Day without my mom. Now, don’t get all sappy and start saying things like “prayers are with you” or “thinking of you” and whatever other cornball thing that is at the tip of your tongue. My mom and I had one of the rockiest relationships (again no cornball crap) and believe me; she found the most interesting ways to really mess up Mother’s Day. Growing up, Mother’s Day in our house consisted of going to our church and then going to church with my moms’ mom. It wouldn’t have been bad except, I hated sitting there listening to some bonehead lecture about what a wonderful blessing mother’s are and how they should be revered, yet they could have no active role in the church. Then the day would get worse at my grandma’s church, it was a Catholic Mass in Latin. What the hell were those people saying?!!!. All the kids had to go be blessed by the priest and this is where I tended to get in trouble. I refused to go up, not only did I embarrass my grandma; I seriously pissed off my mom in front of her mom. Of course, me being me, I loved every minute of it. I would simply say I refused to go up and have some guy, that was already half way to drunk, touch my forehead and bless me in Latin after praying to a frickin’ statue. Yep, stubborn way back then.

            My brother and I always had to make cards in school; it was interesting to say the least. My brother would always try to make something special to add to the card. He would tell my mom he was going to be an inventor. Of course, there I was standing there telling him what an idiot he was because he spelled inventor wrong. Ahhh family love! On top of making cards at school, mom would take us to the store to pick out cards for our grandmas. My brother would always find some pretty cool cards; me on the other hand, I just stood there staring at the Hallmark section saying I can’t find anything, I can write better sappy stuff than this. Now at that age, I doubt if I could write better sappy stuff, but it was a good case to try to present. My main arguing point (seems I argue about everything, huh?) was that my grandma’s never got me a card or anything so why am I standing here wasting my time looking for cards. Not only did I lose the argument, I think my behind was burning a bit when I went to sit down.

            It’s fun to recall childhood stories you’ve had with your mom. I think as we age we learn to appreciate them just a little more. Some are funny and some are depressing; they are all true and that’s what shapes us as moms to our kids. Sometimes recalling these stories does act as a quasi therapy, oooh free benefits! I often wonder what stories my son tells about me and what stories will he tell his kids. Oh to be a fly on his walls! Scratch that, he’d probably squish me and watch me splatter. I can only hope my son has fond, funny memories of his life growing up. I know I’ve laughed more than one parent should, but I’ve also shed some tears. There are times when I feel I have the most ungrateful, unappreciative son in the world. I’m sure all moms feel that at some point. Through the turbulence of watching some creature become a human being, then morphing into a man, I can happily say I have enjoyed being a Mother. Good, bad, happy or sad; everyday has been Mother’s Day and I’ve been very lucky.

            Keep the stories and the laughter close to your heart. Appreciate what you’ve been taught. No matter how it was taught, trust that there was a lesson for you to learn and grow from. For those that had or have less than stellar relationships with your moms, there’s a lesson there as well. I think for me it was a life time of grooming me to become a better mother, to love being a mother and to appreciate being a mother. I think I was given 42 years to prepare for when mom is longer here and to appreciate that as well. To my son I say, I may not be perfect but ha ha, your scrawny butt is stuck with me! To all the moms out there, have a very Happy Mother’s Day! ~ Just my two cents

First Year Lessons Learned (Things That Smack You in the Head)

              

           

The first year of college is coming to an end. Did I survive? Did my college student survive? Short answer yes and that’s only because we aren’t in the same state, however; realistically it is a tad more complicated than that. We have these grandiose dreams that our kids are going to graduate high school and go off to a big name school. My grandiose dream schools were Notre Dame and Morehouse. My college students’ list included Drake, Eastern Il, Millikin and one other school. Notice my choices didn’t seem to match his. He got accepted to all schools he applied to and then it happened. Several schools started contacting him and making offers, one school gave him an open ended offer and gave him up to a year to decide, in case he changed his mind.  A small school in Iowa came a calling and Mister “I don’t want to go to a small school” answered that call. The letter of intent was signed October of Senior year and this is where my first year lessons started.

The very first wakeup call I got was when the high school coach botched the day of signing and the deadline was almost missed. That was one of many wakeups I’d had with this coach. The transitioning process from high school student athlete to college student athlete started to take shape. Attitudes started to change, extreme laziness kicked in (more so than normal) and everyone seemed to want a piece of this kid. Here I am standing on the sidelines screaming “You did nothing to help get this kid to where he is going, now step aside!” There was a personal battle between this young man and the head coach that no one could seem to figure out. This coach seemed to knock this kid at every turn; any extra team awards were always given to less qualified athletes, of course, after announcing that my student athlete is the one that should get it. Upon graduation, my student athlete was one of the most decorated runners to leave the district. Sure there were a few before him, but those athletes had competed in summer programs since they were small kids, so they included those awards with their bounties.

Summer brought another wakeup call. Just when you thought things were quieted down, the battles to get things done starts. The constant nagging to start packing up a room that wasn’t even slept in was only overshadowed with the constant nagging to start the college application process. Talk about epic word battles for the simplest of things. Of course, tired of listening to myself nag, I started the packing. When it came to that wonderful process of shopping for college, I eliminated the indecisive one. I just shopped and displayed the items when I returned home. I don’t think it was actually looked at until it was unpacked on the campus. Thank goodness for a summer program that provided a job, one of us wouldn’t have survived the summer. I can say with most certainty that 18 is a magical number and not in a good way.

Now, one year removed from high school and one year of college under my belt, these are the lessons I’ve learned.

·         The sweet young person that was brought into this world lost his damn mind when he turned 18. Someone needs to find it and return it

·         The transition period actually lasts the WHOLE first year; although I’m not sure for which one of us more so

·         No matter how many times I tell him to do something, he will either claim he forgot, didn’t have time (“it’s called college life mom”) or it just won’t get done period

·         College life is strange for both the parent and the student; the more you try to let go, the more they want you. The flip side is, the more you try to parent from a distance, the more they shut you out. Notice I didn’t say you win

·         Taking care of EVERYTHING may not be the best idea, gives the student a false sense of security; that and the attitude that if they don’t succeed as well as we think they should, we’ll be there to bail them out

·         Sometimes you have to step back, throw your hands up and watch the chips fall where they may…you may be surprised

Of course, these are my lessons and I’m sure there will be plenty more barreling down the pike kicking me in the butt. These four years will go quickly and the hope is to transform a young unpolished, wet behind the ears demon creature into a well rounded educated man of Clarke University. I’ve quickly learned it doesn’t matter that our timeframes for getting things taken care of is vastly different. It doesn’t matter that I feel he needs time management classes…maybe a few of them. Room dusty, when you know you packed a lot of cleaning wipes??? It’s trivial, let that go. Late nights but homework isn’t really the focus??? Let that go as well. Grades aren’t quite where YOU would like them to be??? Well YOU aren’t the one that is taking the courses, let it go.

While I have thrown up my hands to a lot of things, I have not stopped being the parent. Since I’m still footing the bills, he still needs a parent; just not so hands on or so vocal. When I turn on the news I’m hit with the stark reality that there are far worse things this young man could be doing. The reality of the matter is, he beat society’s statistics. He comes from a single parent home, didn’t drink, do drugs or bring home any babies and he graduated on time. Yep, there are much worse things that could be happening.

I wasn’t sure if either of us would survive this first year, I’m sure later I will look back and have a good laugh about it. I raised a strong minded young man, believe me, I’m reminded of that every single time I talk to him. I firmly believed he would be a great attorney, but since he has integrity, maybe that isn’t a good choice for him. Graduation is always the day before Mother’s Day, I can’t wait! May 2015, as I watch this person that has provided me with enough fodder for a book, enough tears to form a liquid salt mine and enough pride to cover the globe; I will have gained a new perspective of both of us. We share a mutual respect now, yes folks there are teenagers that still show respect, but that day will bring respect for the MAN he will have become. These are my lessons learned after the first year. ~ Just my two cents

Mom’s Manifesto (Time to Let Go) C.L. Anderson

When motherhood beckons, and that call is answered, there are a few milestones that are greatly anticipated. The first day of kindergarten, 8^th grade graduation, driver’s license and high school graduation are some of those milestones. A college graduate is a bonus we hope for, but ultimately we know it’s up to the individual and the choices they make. Some mothers go through post partum and slowly start to enjoy what they have been given; some jump right out of the gate and enjoy it to the fullest. We are all different and we celebrate those differences. Then there are those of us that feel like we popped a pup for a second time later in life and suffer greatly from post partum symptoms, or at least post traumatic stress syndrome. I fall into the latter category. These latest bouts of oh oh’s have come to be known as “I’m off at college and I think I’m grown syndrome”. This is that time when I personally wonder what happened to my part in the circle of life, I didn’t eat my young. Can I get a do over? Moms, welcome to the college years! Stand up, clap your hands, and shout for joy. Ok, sit down now.

Welcome to the Mom’s Manifesto today! I am the voice that says what you are thinking and won’t say because you don’t want your “I think I’m grown now” son/daughter to be mad at you. Try to find your backbone as you read this and then stand the hell up and say something. Let’s break this down slowly…. College tuition rounds out to about $35,000 not including incidentals. Now, for this very large number this is what you get; room, board, use of the library,  multiple computer labs, medical on site, counseling, mail services, dining halls and a café; also, use of a weight room, gym, game room, bookstore and career services. Finally, you get life’s necessities (as if a bed and food weren’t enough), basic cable, wireless internet service, heat and maintenance. What good are these services when the only thing being utilized are not the things to help guide you on your path!!!! Explain how NOT using career services is going to help you find a job or help with your resume, or NOT talking with financial aid for YOUR tuition is going to get you closer to that degree! Notice I didn’t include the cost of insurance or books or items necessary for the room.

Let’s look at what happens if your son/daughter ends up right back under your roof. Remember, the goal is to keep them out and push them to succeed. Coming home should not be one of their options; have you heard “I got this”? Then let them “get it”, a hard lesson to learn for any mom. Anyway, back to them coming home; let them know they will be paying some type of rent, they will clean up after themselves and wash dishes, they will pay their own phone bill and the biggest one of all they will find a job in a timely manner. Stipulate that finding a job does not entitle them to the use of your vehicle; they will utilize the same two feet they used to stand on yours to dance when they were little OR learn how to use public transportation. Also, since they chose to put their tails between their legs and come back to you, make them realize that the freedom of hanging out all night walked out the door when they walked in. Finally, let them know in 6 months time, THEY will be responsible for repaying their own student loans. Remember, they got this!

Suddenly coming back home doesn’t seem a viable option anymore, huh? That’s the point! While we as moms love to embrace and brag of the successes, very few of us talk about what happens when that embrace is not wanted at this time. We don’t talk about what happens when your son/daughter turns on the only support system they’ve had their whole lives; we don’t talk about the hurt that comes with that. Somehow we allow them to take their lack of foresight and turn it into one of our faults. Now, we moms have faults of our own, our sons/daughters failures will not be one of them. While we never turn our backs and our hearts as well as our doors are always open, they should be open with the stipulation that things are not free and you still have to earn what you want. While they feel they can skate through life and do whatever they feel and you don’t need to know, we sit back through our tears and KNOW in the long run, yea; WE (the moms) are the ones that actually got this! We never let it go and we won’t start now. Sometimes we have to let them flounder in the wind and “smell their own ass”. We have to learn to sit back and watch them let their attitudes include or exclude them from the positives in life. We’ve given them the basics, it’s up to them with they do with it. I’m sure they don’t forget what they’ve been taught, I’m POSITIVE they don’t know how to use it once they leave home.

As the great Revs. James Cleveland and Clay Evans once sang “This Too Shall Pass”. Our nerves will be tested over and over, we will shed many tears and yet it will pass. I think once the “I think I’m grown” phase passes and the real maturity kicks in; we can sit back and say “Peace Be Still”. Until this all comes to fruition, sometimes we just have to learn that it may be time to let go. ~Just my two cents.

            

Do We Really Need Validation? C.L. Anderson

            Memories, those hidden treasures tucked away in the bowels of our brain that very readily seem to enjoy defying us at the most inopportune time. Stories of the things that happened when you were younger, a few years ago or even a few days ago can seem fuzzy at best when you’re trying to recall a really great story. Sometimes you’re left thinking if only someone, anyone was right here and could back up what you’re trying to say. This would at least prove you’re not making up some farfetched story or remaking some story someone else told you. That someone you’re looking for is called validation. Although, validation isn’t a person, a lot of people spend a lot of time looking for it.

            I know some of you are probably thinking “Oh no, what did Carla do now” ha, I haven’t done anything. I am that validation tool! I don’t seek out anyone to validate events that have taken place; I have the uncanny gift of total recall. Before you say, that’s cool, or I wish I did; let me tell you, sometimes it plain sucks. If you happen to be someone that actually knows me or has known me for a long time, you know what I’m talking about. For those that don’t know me, I am a person’s worst nightmare. I will remember names, faces, what you did wrong, who you did it to and the outcome. If you’re someone that did something to me, believe me when I tell you I remember it all like it was yesterday.  See, I am my own validation tool!

            When I ask if we really need validation, the simple answer could be not unless you are a psychic making money by prompting questions that require validation. We don’t really need it, but sometimes it’s nice to have. I have told many stories about when I was younger and the crazy things that have happened. Sometimes, I’ve had people look at me like there is no way this could have happened. Jaws drop when there’s someone around that knew me from the “glory” days and they recall things that happened and wondered whatever became of me. I used to tell stories of things my parents did prior to getting divorced, I told a lot of these stories to my son. I don’t think he fully believed it until we ran into a friend of mine from my old neighborhood. I saw a little light bulb go off and it confirmed his mom was a nut job for a reason. Sometimes validation comes when you aren’t seeking it and that validation can be a bitter pill.

            There are many stories I have told about my childhood and how I was treated by my parents, grandparents and that other part we call extended family. It’s no secret that I think very little of my family on both parents side. Knowing I’m the honest, put it in your face type of person, I’ve taken a lot and bottled it up. It was like having a whole world watch what you go through and act like it wasn’t happening. Telling the stories is cathartic and at times funny. I’ve always known that people knew what was going on, but no one listened. Unless you were someone that actually hung around me on a constant basis, you had no clue. Those that were around me and knew/know firsthand, it’s still embarrassing but life moves forward. Just adds to the more funny stories I conjure up.

            So, here’s where the bitter pill comes in. Imagine a moment when you lose someone in your life that you didn’t particularly rate a 10 on the Richter scale of personalities, parenting and breathing. People call thinking they’re offering kind words and you’re sitting there hearing the teacher’s voice from Charlie Brown in your head; yep, you all know that sound. Then you talk to someone you haven’t spoken to since the last time Rip Van Winkle was awake and they drop a bombshell. “Your loved one was a nice person, but for the life of me I couldn’t figure out why she hated you so much and treated you so badly” Bam! A validation you for darn sure weren’t looking for. Ewwww, can you taste that bitter pill? Well, at least now there’s confirmation that a mind wasn’t slowly being lost into a spinning world of mediocrity and sarcasm for no reason; but did it have to come at that moment?!! Some people have no tact at all to say the least.

            That was the first unsolicited validation to come my way, there have been more after; but none that packed that sort of punch. Recently, I’ve had a validation that for some reason I always seek out and it’s not really a bitter pill. It’s more of a healing process; those are the ones you’re grateful for. When you know without a shadow of a doubt that you aren’t the only one that lived through a waking resemblance to hell and survived, the stories come out of your head and are pushed into the universe. Knowing that a superficial bubble shaped many lives the same way and many of the floating bubbles inside the bigger bubble had the wherewithal to know that things weren’t right is surreal. We all had the same thing in common at that time, no voice of our own and no one to speak up for us.

            Do we really need validation? No, not really. I think it can turn a person into one that is always searching and trying to please others before themselves. Can we all use a little validation? Absolutely, that may be the one thing that keeps us sane and reaffirms we haven’t totally fallen off the deep end. Perhaps, if more of us had been listened to when we were children, a lot of issues we see in this day wouldn’t be issues.

 ~Just my two cents