Commitment...

I often have a continuum of thoughts, I believe maybe that is why I initially began blogging...I needed somewhere for those thoughts to go. One such thought just popped into my head which prompted me to share this question...what is the one thing you have committed yourself to and stuck with?  

Well? Let me see, I started blogging a year ago and took a very long break so....not too committed. I have started countless diets and well...a picture speaks a thousand words and since there is no picture then let me just say not so committed. I once committed myself to get and stay organized...that was a colossal waste of time and money on organization crap I barely used. I could go on but I won't because I am painting such a loser picture of myself.  At any rate...it hit me, as I grabbed a bag of my favorite chocolate covered pretzels and a can of pop (because I am committing tomorrow to stop eating junk so I have to get in before midnight---don't act like you haven't done the same thing) --totally digressing...IT HIT ME....I have succeeded at commitment at least once in my life...my marriage.

Some of you may think this is not a major task. Well, I love my husband, however, we are all human and well...it is a commitment to love and honor, in sickness and in health....til death do us part. Let me tell you, that til death do us part doesn't mean you get to choose your crime scene, so choose your mate wisely. That til death do us part IS the part that will make you speak in tongue when you come home after having left him with your precious angels, only to find the house looks as if a gang of vandals had attacked and left food, clothes, toys, and hot chocolate finger paint stains all over the place. Til death do us part is a commitment. Ladies, here's the skinny...the two of you are not always going to be cute, sexy, adorable, and sweet...one day you WILL wake up (even in the BEST of marriages) and want to straight-up throat punch him---BAM--- (hmm...throat punching, now that's an entirely different blog). Yep, doesn't mean you love him any less just means you are human. Heck, he may feel the same way about you. 

My point is, I committed to be a wife no matter what, through the best of times and through the worst of times. I committed to love someone not because he is cute, sexy (he is) or brings me gifts (although the gift giving can be the difference between sleeping on the couch vs sleeping in the bed...just kidding...not really) on the contrary, I love him because of his heart and love for me.

To honor and obey, in sickness and in health, til death do us part--no other time in one's life has a nobler vow been made.  Marriage is not JUST about loving another person, I think that is the easy part. It's about patience, kindness, forgiveness, empathy, constraint (keeping your words and your hands to yourself), tolerance, friendship and faith. It's about praying your way through the things you don't know how to get through, giving God praise at every level, asking for help when needed, learning from your mistakes, realizing you belong to him and he belongs to you, submission in the purest since, and allowing God to have reign. 

The latter is likely why my marriage and other marriages, that have far exceeded mine, have stood the test of time...it is a bond that we set before God and promised to cherish. When I feel that my life is too much I know where my help comes from, my help comes from Him, his grace and mercy has carried me through.

That, my friend, is the epiphany. All other life commitments have likely failed because we leave God out of them and try to tackle it all on our own...at least that is my thought. Whether you believe in my God or not, there is some greater power than our own that allows us to stay the course.  My desire is to commit to life, health, and happiness the same way I have committed to love and marriage.

Be good to yourself and a blessing to others.

 

It Was An Accident...

Why do we "accident" ourselves into disaster?  We are so far removed from personal responsibility that we don't even see when we are at fault.  Everything we see, say, and do is one big OOPS. Oops, I know I am dieting but my husband just purchased a large pizza and I ate 1/2 of it. Oops, I just accidentally had sex with someone that wasn't my spouse.  Oops, I just accidentally shot my girlfriend numerous times, but judge, I thought she was a burglar, hiding in the bathroom screaming. It was all an accident. How old are we, 5?  No, we are grown people living in a world that allows us to be irresponsible. My 3 year old knows the difference between an accident---pottying in his pants at nap time---and intentional behavior---standing outside, buck-naked, peeing in the yard.  Big difference.

The problem is that everyone thinks that everyone else is the culprit but we don't want to admit we are just as irresponsible as our friend, neighbor or the guy we pass on the street. Truth? The truth is that we cry, 'it was an accident' only when we get caught in the act of wrong-doing.  Case in point, the other day my son got busted out by his sister---he finger painted his room with a mix of Ovaltene, chocolate drink mix and water....well it looks like poo, although it was not because The Princess would certainly have taken greater pleasure in announcing the finger paint job if her baby brother had used poo. At any rate, what was an intentional act (because that boy knew good and well what he was doing was wrong) turned out to be an accident when he was confronted---oh mommy mommy I so sawry, it was a assident (in the his best 3yr old voice). Isn't it funny that, as adults, we still operate like that.

My accidental, late night, food binges have been the catalyst to my overweight disaster (along with those blasted mint m&ms). Tiger Woods' plethora of affairs was the disaster to his failed marriage and tarnished career. Mr. Olympian Blade Runner, Oscar Pistorius' rage was his disaster, as it resulted in him killing his girlfriend. And let's not forget the chick, Jodi Arias, who stabbed her boyfriend 27 times, and says it was an accident....she doesn't remember any of it or parts of it or the past is jumbled up with the present...yada yada yada. Come on! We have all arrived at our disasters, in great part, by our own doing. Man up. Woman Up. You are NOT 300 lbs on accident---never (well, maybe if you are Fat Man from the Austin Powers movie, I guess telling grown folk to 'get in my belly' can put the weight on quickly, especially if you miscalculated the fat/calorie content--- and yes, I know that wasn't his name, hush).  The fact of the matter is, the devil did not make you do it and there are no green monsters hiding under your bed. We all need to decide that we are going to be responsible for our own actions. In the spirit of Lent, regardless if you are religious or not, let us all give up irresponsibility.  Being responsible has no age limit, big or small, we all have it in us to know, understand, and accept right from wrong.

Let me start, I am responsible for my body, my finances, my beautiful children, my madness (actually my husband and children have a hand in that), my words and my well-being. No one else can make me or break me, other than God Almighty. Now, your turn.

Until next time,
Be good to yourself and a blessing to  others.

Butt-Whoopin Angel

Do you ever get tired of the shear stupidity of people? I mean, come on, when did it become okay to just be downright inconsiderate, backbiting, and ignorant?  Somewhere along the way our society has allowed us to be a nation of careless, non empathetic people. These characteristics are now the social norm. We used to be a people who watched out for each other, who took care of each other's children...we were a village. Now we are a bunch of punks...looking out for numero uno, not wanting to get involved even if what we are witnessing is wrong.

For example, I know that riding a school bus is an experience, and a, somewhat, difficult challenge for kids. I rode the bus as a child and let me tell you, it was miserable. I was, at times, made fun of, because I was overweight. I was bullied but not to the degree of torment. Not that ANY level of bullying is ever alright, because it is totally unacceptable, however, I hear about what children go through today and I want to go into attack mode. I saw, on either t.v. or some other social network, where this mentally challenged young girl was being bullied by not only another child on the bus but his ignorant parent once they got off the bus. REALLY? First of all, why didn't the bus driver put a stop to it.  I know I am not a bus driver, and would likely be arrested if I ever were,  but it would seem like humanity would trump all other aspects of that job.  I have 5 kids, you can ask each of them, down to the 3 year old, "has mommy ever stopped the car to yell at you"...the 3 oldest may state that there was more than yelling involved, maybe something about spanking their butts and not being able to sit on them afterwards. But as a  bus driver, yeah, I am pulling that bus over and I am going a little 'crazy momma' on them. That may have nipped some of that mess in the bud.

Or how about those stupid people who think that just because they are "keeping it real" that gives them a license to say whatever comes to mind. For real, don't nobody want to hear every word that pops into another's head, especially when it is rude, disrespectful, and poisonous to another's self worth. For instance, take that dumb show 'Dance Moms' (I think that's what it's called), the owner/instructor is this overbearing, loud, and incredibly rude woman who believes that God put her on the earth to share every despicable thought she has in her head. She spews ugliness to not only the mothers on the show but to the young dancers that are working their tails off to win her medals for her studio. Insane! I'm not certain who is worse, the obnoxious woman who owns the place or the mommas who allow their daughter's and themselves to endure this woman's crude behavior.

That's why I think God needs to implement a Butt-Whoopin Angel. Lord, if you are listening, please make sure this angel is built like a gladiator and has the no-nonsense attitude of Madea (for you who don't know you need to ask somebody). Yep! That angel's duty is to come to earth and open a can of whoop @#% (sorry, there really is no other way to say that phrase) on all those folks who have lost their ever-lovin minds. You want to bully someone, you get a smack down. You want to stay out until ungodly hours of the morning and have your momma worrying because you are 18 and think you are grown....you get a whoopin! You cheat on your spouse, whoopin! You yell at your momma and call her names....WHOOPIN.  And I don't mean a little tap on the butt, get your feelings hurt kind of spankin either. No-sir-ree-bob. I mean the kind of whoopin that has you crying and snottin,  mumbling...I'm sorry, I won't do it again...you know the kind of pleading I'm talking about (if you got a butt spankin as a child),  the I'm sorry I won't do it again followed by the parent's "this hurts me more than it hurts you" kind of whoopin.

A holy ghost smack down is what needs to begin to happen in our nation! That's what I should start praying for, "dear Lord, will you please send the Butt-Whoopin Angel down to spank my child, husband, neighbor, friend, co-worker".....Ya'all better watch out, I am switchin my prayers up because some of you need a good old fashioned butt whoopin and the Lord just might be listening and send that angel your way. Ain't no whoopin like a holy ghost whoopin cause a holy ghost whoopin don't stop!

Until next time
Be good to yourself and a blessing to others

Cyrano is a joke!

Cyrano is a joke! For those of you who don't know who I am speaking of, Cyrano is this unattractive (Pinocchio looking), very poetic, love lyricist who was in love with this girl named Roxane but because he was insecure with his looks he let his good-looking buddy, Christian, have at her. The kick though was that Christian didn't know squat about talking to women or wooing them so he would have his buddy Cyrano hide in the bushes and feed him lines so that he could talk to Roxane.  He would also have Cyrano write love letters to Roxane, as if he were Christian. WHEW....So, now that you have the Cliff Notes (look it up)...

Here's this guy who is poetic and knows how to woo a women, Roxane to be exact. But can I just say, she is a dumb broad. Really? When Cyrano and his friend, Christian, are both standing under the infamous tree and she doesn't know the difference between their two voices, what a sap, or when Christian decides to profess his love to Roxane without his sidekick hiding in the bushes and all that comes out of his mouth is "I love you....bunches" (okay, well I paraphrased). I would have figured that mess out quick. At that point I would have had to make a decision---good looks or great words...hmmm.That crazy Roxane fell in love with Cyrano's words spoken through Christian. Unbeknownst to her, she really was in love with the unattractive Cyrano (which she didn't discover until it was too late....dumb broad).   I like a good love story just as much as the next person but why do they have to be so unrealistic.

An all time favorite of mine is the classic love story, Pretty Woman (or anything with Julia Roberts, that's my girl).  How often do you get to see a movie where a hooker lands a millionaire ("woot, woot")?  We watch all these love stories and search for our rich Cyrano's and are in awe when all we encounter in the real world are the humbly waged Tim The Tool Man kind of guys. There is absolutely nothing wrong with the Tim's in the world but our chic flix need to better reflect the men out there.

People, listen, love is not that dang sappy and unrealistic. Love is tricky, crazy, mind boggling, HARD WORK sometimes stupid and jacked up, but when you discover the right one for you all that stuff seems to make sense. I am so sick of people throwing in the towel and not putting in the work all because life seems easier single....well, it may be easier but I will have to say that love--the truly good stuff---was not designed to be easy. That kind of love is built on dedication, patience, kindness, respect, and sometimes a good stiff drink or come to Jesus moment, whatever your preference (I ain't mad atcha).

If you think I am kidding about the crazy but somehow it works kind of love let me share my love story. It was not one of a Roxane and Cyrano or The Hooker and The Millionaire (although... :) ). Nope, mine was all about the persistence of a good man with a compassionate heart and desire to please a young woman. Now that's a love story. My guy isn't, nor ever will be, a Cyrano or a debonair millionaire (God and I are still having a discussion on that one), on the contrary, he was just a guy who was in love with a girl who hoped that girl felt the same.

True story; on our first real date he took me out for dinner. It was a wonderful dinner, I was beginning to "know" he was the one. Great food, good conversation, a little hand touching...ahh smiles.  When dinner was over and the rain was pouring down, my guy had me wait at the door of the restaurant while he went to retrieve the car. As I stood in the doorway, waiting with some of the other restaurant customers who were waiting out the rain I see my guy pull up in his car. As we all stood there in the doorway watching the rain just pour out of the sky we catch a glimpse of  this man, my man, who did something no man has ever done before.  With the rain beating down he rolled down the passenger window and threw an umbrella out for me to retrieve! In case you missed that last line....he THREW an umbrella out the window for me to retrieve! Now, in his defense, he stated later that he thought it would make it to the door. Um, no. It made it halfway! It didn't even land under the awning. We all stood inside the door, some of the customers laughed, some were puzzled, yet no one knew who this man belonged to until out of my mouth came the words "oh no he didn't!"  Yes he did. YES he did.  I laugh now but back then, ooowee.  Needless to say, I stood there as he got out of the car, picked up the umbrella and escorted me out of the restaurant to the car. My guy. My love.

Why did I later marry this same man? I didn't fall in love with his words, with his ability to woo me, those things can be short lived. No, I fell in love with his soft hands, his attentiveness, his patience, his character, his integrity, his work ethic and his desire and love for me. That, my friend, is a good love story. Real, uncut, devoted. Til death do us part.  Love is patient and kind; love does not envy or boast; it is not arrogant or rude. It does not insist on its own way; it is not irritable or resentful; it does not rejoice at wrongdoing, but rejoices with the truth. Love bears all things, believes all things, hopes all things, endures all things--the bible baby (1Cor 13:4).  I forget these things from time to time, but that's where the hard work comes into play. Love is not a game, it is not a fairy tale, it IS a precious gift that needs nurturing, pruning/weeding, and fed....and sometimes, a good healthy dose of crazy to help keep em in line--just sayin.

Until next time,
Be good to yourself and a blessing to others.

The Show

As I sat in the stands, in shear agony, I wondered---are there other parents in this place who are ready to run out on the ball court and snatch up their child and run out the doors? Are there? Oh my GRACIOUS Lord, sweet Jesus please let this game be over. These are the very words I screamed in my head as I watched my 5 year old daughter play her first, ever sport, basketball.

You may think that I am overreacting. Well, let's see...during the first half hour (which is the practice portion) she runs onto the court without her team, rolls around on the court and decides that she is thee only one she must acknowledge. The rest of us are all just bystanders, peering into the world of "let's set mommy crazy" starring "The Princess". Yep, and as if that weren't show enough, during her game (while she was suppose to be sitting on the bench) she sprints across the court only to run over to another ball court where another game is taking place. There she decided that one of the teams needed a sixth man.

OMGRACIOUS!  I know I said that once already but, holy moly, I was praying for the second coming because I just could not take the agony, not one more second. That practice/game was the longest hour I have ever experienced.  I had to send my husband out of the gym because his every word (not in silence) was "what is that girl doing, what-in-the-world is she doing"! Now, either we are just too old for this stuff or she was just off the chain, either way, I wanted to cry because I knew we were coming back the following Saturday to do this show again.  Oh, the humanity.

So, after a week of practicing at home, a whole lotta prayin, much discussion about what she should be doing on the court, and  some good essential oils (can't hurt to rub the girl down and pray--dear Lord Jesus help this child) we arrived at game number 2. I must say, I was much more relaxed. She made it through the practice portion, somewhat, focused with no 'show'.  She made it through the first 15 minutes of the game, no 'show'...now we're truckin....OH but wait...NO....who decides to join us, none other than, The Princess.  Yes, ladies and gentlemen, The Princess had arrived and decided, once again, that it was time for the "let's set mommy crazy" show.

That girl ran down the court giving some kid the double fingers to the eye move---you know, the I'm watching you move, TWICE. I hear parents laughing behind me saying, "did you see that girl give that boy the I'm watching you" fingers.  Laugh now, it only gets better. The Princess got stopped for stealing the ball (a no no in this kids league). As she sat the bench she decided to follow up with the 'kick a different ball onto the court' move, proceeded by the 'I'm gonna lay right here on the court' move, and the BIG finish was the 'let's make the other teams coach chase me for the ball' move. And, that, my friends, was THEE longest 15 minutes in the history of all time. The beauty of it all is that we get to do it all again next Saturday. OMGRACIOUS, sweet Lord Jesus....(if you are a praying people now would be the time to say a few).

As always,
Be good to yourself and a blessing to others

Lost Child

I finally seized the moment and did some much needed shoe shopping with my friend the other day--hallelujah! I went to an outlet mall. But let me explain a couple of things, first, I don't do cold and this was an OUTlet mall and, second, I don't have it in me to walk half-a-country-mile just to buy some danged ol'shoes. Having said that, God gave me a gorgeous, sun shiny, day and a friend who didn't care to do all that walking either (so I thought) and so, the adventure began....

Do you know that girl had me in nearly every stinkin shoe store there, spouting "you said you needed shoes so stop looking at the price and put a pair on your feet"...who's she talkin to? "Whateva"  (I know, such a brilliant come back, oh well). I struggle with paying more than $20 for a pair of shoes...STRUGGLE...let me rephrase, I struggle with buying myself a pair of shoes with a sticker price greater than $20. At any rate, after too many stores and too many texts from my hubby (pretending like my babies were missing me) I purchased 2 pairs of shoes totalling $42. UGH

However, the highlight of my shoe shopping was not the shoes nor the deals, no-sir-ree-bob, the highlight was a momma and her "lost child".  As I am standing in the Nike store waiting for my friend to pay for her purchase a momma came up to the clerk and asks "do you guys have a overhead speaker, my child is lost". As the clerk excuses herself to go get the manager I begin to feel panic for this momma. She, however, was way more calm than I ever would have been. So, being me, I ask "are you alright, what does your child look like, how old is he?" The words that came out of her mouth next made me want to punch her clean in her throat.  Yes, I said it...BAM...right in the jugular.. That broad had the nerve to say her baby was 20..yes.. TWENTY YEARS OLD...I had to check myself before I wrecked myself.

How in the world are you gonna stand in front of a store manager and ask him to help you find your grown (expletive) son! Really? Let ME help you---no loud speaker needed---BOY, YOUR MOMMA IS READY TO GO, DON'T MAKE HER COME LOOKIN FOR YOU!  IF YOU GOIN WITH YOUR MOMMA, WHEREVER YOU ARE IN THIS STORE, YOU BEST HURRY UP AND COME ON OR WALK YOUR HAPPY TAIL ALL THE WAY HOME! I guarantee he, and all the rest of the boys in that store, would have made his way to the front door....do not pass go...straight to jail (or in his case, the car).

Ooowee, I wanted to punch that broad---her child/baby is lost...he's lost alright...lost a ride, lost his man card, lost some hair after I done snatched him bald...Momma's please only announce a lost child if the child is indeed A CHILD (minor, infant, toddler, preschooler, etc).

Deep breath..ooowee...people are crazy.LOL...

Until next time,

Be good to yourself and a blessing to others.

Jillian vs Roseann

I will venture to say that every person---especially, every woman---reading this has experienced the roller coaster called weight control or out of control drama.  We vow, "I am done with chocolate, done with carbs, done with soda (pop), done with sweets...done, done, done!" Yet, we continue on the dreaded ride that we pray to get off of. I, for one, have been on this cursed ride nearly all my life and it has hindered me in countless ways.

l was 5'9 and weighed 150 lbs in Jr. High. I was the biggest girl in my class and was considered fat. Fat! At that age, young and dumb, I agreed, but NOW, oh my word! I wanna slap somebody right about now (where's that danged Wheezer when you need her)! I just cannot believe the poor body image I had and was allowed to carry around. Little did I know that my personal image during my youth would set the tone for the duration of my womanhood.

So here I am, smack dab in the middle of adulthood, facing the same god-forsaken demon---OH, the humanity! So, lose the weight, you say? I know, right? Why is it such a blasted struggle? I wish I had the magic answer. Hard work and determination, I guess, is part of the magic answer. The other part is you MUST have discipline, self control, accountability, and a team of support. If you are lacking in any of these areas then no diet plan or life style change in the world is going to help you rid that weight. Trust me, I have tried everything under the sun, EVERYTHING, some things have worked, others, well, not so much.

I tell myself often, I am done, but somewhere along the line I falter...I eat a few cookies (or a dozen) or a bag of chips..you know where I am coming from because you have been there too.  So, how do I get off this dumb ride? My inner Jillian says "just flippin do it!"  Somehow that broad doesn't win out in my head, it's the old, haggard, run down, Roseann that shuts Jillian down! Can't you just hear the battle between them now?

Okay, so I really do need to get it together. I am in my 40's, for crying out loud! I have raised three sons and am in the trenches with a 3 and 5 year old, this should be easy peezy! So, here's the plan gang, I am going to keep you posted and you need to keep me honest. I will revisit this subject matter in a week or so and tell you what has worked, what has not, and whether I have strangled anyone in the process.

In the meantime....
Be good to yourself and a blessing to others