Parenting

Doug's mother (if you want to call her that) gave up custody when he was only two years old. I guess she was too busy dating and just couldn't handle the responsibilities of raising a child while personally satisfying the physical needs of every male she came in contact with. Nevertheless, he always stayed in contact with her and tried to get as much love from her as he could possibly get her to fake. When we got married, we received a box full of dirt, broken pottery and a dead plant in the mail. Did I mention she was also a bit on the crazy side?

Doug's dad married five times. One of his ex-wives physically and sexually abused Doug, and made him give up every toy he owned. He also had to give up holidays and birthdays, as she was a Jehovah's witness. Doug had always been afraid of his dad even after the man went blind from glaucoma because he had always been physically and mentally abusive to him growing up. Doug always used to say that he felt like visiting with his dad was out of duty and not love. But he always managed to stay in touch with his dad and tried his hardest to build a relationship with him, even though it was futile. The man once got mad at us for sending him a birthday card and not a gift because his three step kids went in together to buy him a $10 watch. We on the other hand were struggling to raise two kids on a teachers salary. Whenever he visited, he always talked about sex, and put Doug down. Did I mention that he was a bit on the crazy side?

I married Doug December 31, 1976. My daughter Mandy was only four months old. Doug had asked me to marry him on our second date. We waited a three months. We had so much fun and connected so well before we got married, but then once we were married, things changed. He hugged me like I was a stranger. He was jealous and always accused me of wanting to cheat on him. He suddenly became totally un-affectionate and cold towards me. Suddenly, Doug did not like my family now that we were married. He distance himself from me, and tried to alienate me from my family. He would go to family get together's, sit away from everyone and blame them for not talking to him.

Doug and I had one child together, Phillip (PJ) who was born 10 months after we married, making him 15 months younger than his sister. PJ was Doug's chance to make up for the pain he had felt all of his childhood. He could protect and coddle PJ and make sure he never felt the pain that he felt of a mother and father who never really wanted to have a child.

Doug died when PJ and Mandy were 5 & 6 years old. He was playing racquetball and had a massive heart attack on the court dying instantly. When I called his mother to let her know that Doug had died, she couldn't make it to the funeral, but wanted to know if he left her any money. When his dad came to the memorial, he couldn't stay for the burial service. He later took me to court for grandparent visitation because I would not let the kids visit them without me along since they couldn't stand being with him. They won the battle, not the war.

I raised my kids alone and was both mom and dad to them. I didn't want to clutter their lives with a step parent and worry about some of the issues that come along with that, so I worked hard to do the best I could alone. I raised my kids in Church, while working full time; going to every school activity they were in; being scout mom; team mom; camp counselor; Sunday school teacher; struggling to pay for private school; always trying to make every event special and creating memories for them; while teaching them how important family and God are to them. I always told my kids that they were all each other had, and that they should always try to get along with each other.

Amazing! Doug worked so hard to keep a relationship going on with two people who didn't give a damn. They were self absorbed and had no time for anyone but themselves. My kids have always come first for me and I have always been willing to sacrifice anything including my life for them both. My love for them is unconditional, and nothing, absolutely nothing at all will change that I am and always will be mother to them both. Nothing will ever keep me from loving either of them regardless of what happens in our lives. I'm their MOM!

I think Doug's parents wouldn't have cared at all if he walked out of their lives. Neither of them would have blinked an eye if he turned away and never looked back. I on the other hand do care!

I have found that there are two types of children who never stop trying to build a strong and loving relationship with their parents.

1) Those who appreciate the love and sacrifices their parents made for them because of the unconditional love they were given.

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2) Those who are begging to be loved by parents who don't really care or understand what parenting is all about.

A Mother's Love

A Mother's Love

We are not all alike!

We don't always show our feelings, but we always want others to understand

them. Sometimes we wear them on our sleeve. Sometimes we suppress them.

Sometimes we feel everything, and sometimes we feel nothing.

Like my mother, I wear my feelings on my sleeve. I get hurt rather easily, but I

try to hide it from others through laughter. When I do tell someone I'm hurt, it

backfires. I'm either made fun of, or told how I only think of myself.

Not all kids are alike either.

I have two kids. One calls me daily and tells me how much she loves me.

The other one never calls, and tells me how weird it is to have his mom kiss

him on the lips. I love them both the same.

So why is it that mother's are willing to get hurt by their kids over and over again,

and still have unconditional love for them?

I believe it is because our Heavenly Father does the same thing for us. He loves

us even when we don't show him the love that he deserves. He understands that

we fall, but he is there to help us get up. His love is unconditional and always

present.

That is what I want to be to for my kids and my grand-kids. I want them to know

that regardless of what is going on, I am always there for them, always willing to

help, and always loving them.

But that does not mean I will always get back what I give. I have to be willing to

get what I get and get over it. So, that is exactly what I do. I rejoice for the good

times and pray for the tough times. I cling to those times that make me happy,

and try not to get upset by the sad times.

One day, I hope my kids and grand-kids know that in the end, all I ever wanted

for them was for thePublish Postm to be happy, healthy and loving God. And all I ever wanted

from them was their love and respect!

Love Mom!

Advice, Comments and Come Backs

Have you ever just wanted to say what you are thinking as opposed to what is politically correct or acceptable??? Well, surprise...I pretty much say what's on my mind most of the time. Don't get me wrong, I don't set out to create a scene or embarrassing moment, I just liven things up a little when ever I can. So whenever people ask me some questions, or give advice, or just make comments that unnerve me a little, I usually have a come back. For Example...

Question from a cashier: How would you like to pay for that?

My answer: Out of your pocket!

Advice from my daughter: Pick your battles!

My answer: I just did!

Greeting from the waiter: My name is Joe and I will be your waiter tonight.

My answer: My name is Bonnie and I will be your customer tonight.

Comment from a friend after a heated debate: You are so opinionated.

My answer: Thank you...Would you like to have one too???

Mis-Matched Shoes

Never ever buy the same shoes in more than one color.The Fashion Police will attest to this! I found the best pair of Espadrilles at Gotschalks (formerly known as Harris Co.). They were cute, comfortable, and available in an aray of fashion colors. I loved them so much, I bought three pairs. Basic Black, Navy Blue and Red. When I found out I would be going on a business trip, I was exited to wear them. The night before the trip, I set the alarm clock for 3:30 am (well I meant to, but it ended up pm). I had ironed my outfit to save time in the morning. I'm awakened at 4:30 am from a deep sleep, with the faint sound of knocking at my front door. I run to the front door in my sweatshirt pajama gown that has an elephant on the front with a long trunk stretching up to the chest and a peanut hanging out of the end of the trunk. I digress!!! I answer the door and I promise my boss that I won't take more than 20 minutes to get ready. In lightning speed, I'm putting on my eyeliner as I brush my teeth. Combing my hair as I put on my lipstick. I finally stand next to the dark closet, slipping my right foot and then my left into my Espadrilles. I run outside, where it is still dark, and jump into the back seat. About half way to our destination, the sun starts peaking out and I look down with pride hoping to gaze at my new shoes, only to find that I have on one navy and one black shoe. I frantically tell my boss that we have to stop at a shoe store before I go to the meeting. He tries to harass me and convince me that he won't stop, but then realizes that I am in no mood to negotiate. We get to our destination and I drop him off as I drive to the nearest mall. As I wait for a little shoe boutique to open, the manager approaches the store. After some begging, he allowed me in the store early to pick out a new pair of matching shoes. As I shop in the store, he gets on the phone and calls his boyfriend. "Oh girl, I thought I was still drunk when I saw her shoes!", "She was desperate, I had to let her in!!!". I finally pick out a pair that matches my outfit, and wear them out of the store to start my journey back to the meeting place. As I enter the hotel, I decide to stop by the bathroom and freshen up. Back to normal, I run to find the meeting room. About 20 feet from the bathroom, I hear someone running up behind me and then a loud stomp. I turned around to find that one of the hotel employees is attacking the 20 foot streamer of toilet paper that is clinging to my shoe. I am deafened by the laughter of those who find my humiliation amusing. How could I have made such a foolish mistake??? Purchasing the same shoes in so many colors, is a recipe for disaster!!!

Attack Of The Project Natzi

You all know Mandy as the "Project Queen" or the "Goddess of Decorating on a Low Budget". But I'm here to tell you all the truth today.

Let me set the scene for you. New Years Day. I am in Mandy and Josh's dining room working on my computer while Josh and Mandy are in the living room watching a football game. The kids are playing Guitar Hero in the Family Room.

Suddenly that eery feeling comes into the air. It's that same feeling you get when there is a creepy silence before the storm. When you hear a stone silence before the earth quake if you will!!!

But I digress!

In a flash, Josh and I stop what we are doing and give each other that "Deer In The Headlights Look". It's that feeling that we have felt over and over again, when boredom overtakes Mandy and you realize that she is missing from the room.

Enter.....Duh, Duh, Duh, Duh....THE PROJECT NATZI!!!

Without even making a sound, she has moved everything away from the walls in the kitchen and started painting walls.

We peek around the corner hoping that she won't see us. The transformation has taken place.

Much like David Banner when he feels the anger at it's peek, the fix it monster has come to the surface. The casual clothing is ripped away and painting clothes suddenly appear. Her hair is pulled back away from her face, and like magic, every tool she needs to paint with, are in the kitchen in place to start her project.

Josh and I quietly peek around the corner, trying not to disturb the monster. We are painfully aware that if she gets a sighting of us, she will have tasks for us to do in her project frenzie! We tip toe back to where we were, and pretend not to notice that the Natzi is working on her evil plan to transform the house, one room at a time.

We are her unsuspecting prisoners and we never know when she is going to enter the room, and become a dictator shouting out orders for each of us. We start to feel a false sense of security. Somehow, we have managed to stay under the radar! Then, without warning, she enters the room.

Like watching a silent movie in fast forward speed, I am in the kitchen helping her move things back in to place and complimenting her work. Josh in the mean time has found a better hiding place and manages to stay away until her project regeme has ended!

I have lived through another attack, and I am a SURVIVER!!!