So I wasn't reminded of the fact that I wanted to blog about this until today when I read comments in someone else's post...What do you all think about those leashes they make for children now-days? Do they make that occasional stroll in the park much safer? Do they protect the child from all harm? Perhaps they give the average pooch a sense of belonging and make them fit in better among the family conglomerate? Because honestly, I don't like them...not at all...not even a little bit. When I see folks walking down the street with those, all I can picture is a child running toward the street; the parent panics, thus yanking the leash very hard; and then instead of getting hit by the car--which I see as the only positive in the situation--, the child has a scratched knee and forehead, perhaps a broken arm or rib, a missing tooth and a slight concussion if not whiplash. Is it just me? Your thoughts?

The Little Things...

How has everybody been? It's been rather busy over this way as I am grappling with issues related to life, family, finances, career exploration...yada yada yada--I'm certain that I'm in that boat alone. Anywho...I thought I would cruise by Peruse & Ponder and dazzle you all with another Will & Damoe anecdote.

A couple of weeks ago, we were taunted with a bit of la primavera. The sun was beaming down and the breeze was pleasant. You could even "smell" spring in the air as the birds chirped and a few locals fired up their grills. The boys and I decided to take a ride. As we traveled on a main--very busy--road near our subdivision, we came to a red light, and had to sit there for what seemed to be an eternity. So, of course, the sun was brilliantly shining through the windshield...

Will: (Impatiently squirming and fighting the sun's glare) Dannng! How LONG is this light?!

Me: (With a silent chuckle) Will what's wrong? Is the sun too much for you? Usually when that happens, people do this (as I pull down the visor--then there's a long pause).

Will: (As if he had just discovered an invention of the upper echelon) Oh. My. GOODNESS!!! What the...? I never knew that's what that was for (the look of "wowness" transformed to utter astonishment and amazement)! Why didn't anybody tell me (looking at me as if I had kept the world's best secret from him)? WHOA, I thought that was just to hold papers and stuff up! And look, there's a light in there (as he tried to see if the light would stay on as he lifted and lowered the mirror flap--at least 3 times).

Me: (Chuckling a bit louder by now) Really Will? I'm sorry you didn't know that, but I am very happy to have made your day!

I take a gander in the rear-view mirror, and an impatient Damoe is sitting in the back seat rolling his eyes--pretending to ignore us--while singing along with the radio. Just then I turned onto another street heading south--and the sun is now coming through the passenger window...

Will: (After a sigh of disappointment while trying to shade the sun from the side of his face) Awww man!!! Well I guess it worked for a minute...

Me: Well, usually when THAT happens, people do this (as I unlatch the visor and shift it over to the passenger side window).

Will: (Absolutely tickled to DEATH!) Mom! This is the best thing EVER! Wow! It moves and everything?! This is awesome (he continues to move the visor back and forth--totally ignoring the sun now of course, because he is now equipped with knowledge that--intellectually--places him far above the rest)!

Me: You see Will, you learn something every day!

Damoe: (With a look that was a combination of sheer disgust and "do I really know these people, and if so, why am I related to them?" on his face as he sighed deeply before exclaiming) LOSERS!!!

It cracked. Me. UP!!!

Is It Over Already?

Well since it is the last day of Black History Month, I decided to go in the old archives and pull this one out...ENJOY!

Say It Loud!!!

...But Deliver Us From Evil

God is GOOD my fellow Bloggers! Today, I join my Mommy in celebrating 11 YEARS of sobriety. Life has been full of trials and tribulations for this family as we were on this roller coaster ride with her. Of course the childhood memories are difficult to erase when you have a parent that is an addict. You even choke on forgiveness as it too is a tough one to swallow. But as I learn more about the program, and what I need to do as her daughter to be supportive and work on mending my relationship with her, I am amazed by her tenacity--I become increasingly proud and admire her more as the years go by. I know that for her, this is truly a tough journey...she does not walk alone.

I have heard her describe her circumstances as living from second to second...then minute to minute...then day by day...and look what she has accomplished now. I commend her for her determination, and I thank God for her DELIVERANCE. Sobriety is an uphill battle, so I continue to pray for her will power and strength.

Congratulations Mommy...I Love You!

The Life and Times of Will & Damoe Part III

Hello all! A few of you have asked either via comments or through e-mails how my boys are doing. They are doing just fine. You know, your average 13 and 11 year old middle-school aged boys I suppose! I haven't posted about them in a while, so thought this would be the perfect opportunity to go ahead and give you all a little taste of the latest goings-on and happenings. Just for recollection purposes, feel free to refer to one of my favorite posts about them here.

Setting: I am cooking dinner while the boys engage in snickering and random chatter at the table. After a moment or two, they begin arguing in a whisper...

Damoe: (whispering even lower) You ask her!

Will: (whispering back) NO, You ask her!

Me: Ask me what?

The Boys: (simultaneously) Nothing!

Me: Why is it so hush hush? If you want to ask me something, out with it!

Damoe: (hesitantly) Well....we were wondering...(he couldn't control his little smirks and giggles enough to get the rest of his sentence out).

Will: We were kind of wondering...(see above parenthetic statement for Damoe).

Me: WHAT?!

Will: Well, did you..."do it (of course it was some made up word that my kids have patented in their own personal language that I can hardly remember and wouldn't dare attempt to spell)?"

Damoe bursts out with laughter and is rolling all over the kitchen floor. I think he may have spewed a bit of Hawaiian Punch from his nose in the process. I swing around with a hot spoon gasping for air--on the verge of hyperventilating...

Me: What the....? Why on Earth would you ask me a question like that???

Will: Well, we saw some...condoms in your room.

Me: What were you doing in my room, and furthermore, it's none of your business what I do! I pay the bills around...

Will: (in his "Mom seriously?" voice) But you don't even have a Boyfriend!

Me: I am GROWN! What I do is my business, and how do I know you two weren't in there on a fishing expedition playing with said condoms?

Damoe: (with that one look where you draw your lips to the side and smack them with that "c'mon now" look on your face) Mom, now you KNOW we don't wear a large!

What. In. The. FUCK?!

Sigh

What's In A Name II

I of course had to name this post "What's In A Name II" because I have in the past named another post "What's In A Name..." not that you really care, but still...

Anyways...

When you sit back and ponder it for a moment what is the origin of your name? Do you know from whence it came? You see, I chuckle every time I think I have a "plain" name and don't like it very much until my Mom reminds me that I was almost "Mamie Jean (like my dear Grandma)." I am also on the verge of tears when I hear chatter about soap operas and am further reminded that my 2 cousins and I were named after characters on "All My Children" and "The Young & The Restless." I guess our parents didn't have the desire to do much during the day...but I digress.

I get semi-excited when I think about other people and places that have my name (even if it's spelled as if it's pronounced TAR-uh) like, in Gone With the Wind, but am bubbling over with joy (okay, maybe that's an overstatement, but you get the point) to know that it means--in many translations--Mother Earth.

Even though they are named after their fathers, I believe I have given my boys nice, strong names. Dameus (pronounced DAY-me-us) doesn't really have an origin or meaning of sorts, but I still think it sounds like it possesses authority and demands one's undivided attention. William, which means, "protector of the kingdom" always reminds me of royalty.

So what about you? Were you named after someone? Do you believe that your name defines you? Does your name determine how far you will go job/career-wise? How does it look on a resume? Well when I was talking to my cousin today, she reminded me about a visit that I had at my "doctor's office" a couple of years ago. I (over) heard a conversation that went a little like this:

Setting: There was a mother sitting the waiting room with her 3...or maybe 4...children waiting to be seen. The children were kind of all over the place, meddling with this and that while she dilly-dallied around in her purse. Just then one of the doctors entered...

Doctor: (as she s-l-o-w-l-y and with a VERY HIGH level of uncertainty reads the clipboard, which apparently had a name spelled "Zava") Zava? Yes, Zava please follow---

Rude and Super-Country: (Smacking teeth) Um ex-ca-yoose me, his name IS Zava (pronounced Zah-Vee-AY)...

Doctor: Oh I'm sorry Ma'am, the way it's spelled, it looks like--

Rude and Super-Country: (Cutting off the Doctor mid-sentence again) No, it's Zah-Vee-AY....spelled Z-a-(you ready for this?) LONG V-a.

Sigh.

While I am still trying to figure out how I picked up my jaw without her noticing and got over my sheer disappointment, pure disbelief, and utter amazement, your thoughts?

Baby, 'Cuz He's A Thug!

Hello out there in Blogland! Over on Facebook in recent days, there have been a hodgepodge of posts about women who date thugs and/or get with these "dead-beat" men only to turn around and make them into their "Baby Daddies." A lot of the men on there have tuned in on the topic expressing their views, commenting that women aren't interested in the good "men," and have asked, "Why?" Many responses from women poured in...among them were explanations ranging from these guys "puttin' it down" in the sack to looking for love in all the wrong places. Of course much of what we said was well received, but I felt that it was my civic duty to toss one back at 'em.

I wanted to know why do some of these men ignore the good women out here? I mean why do they pass US up to date the next hood-rat, duck-head, tramp ass, gold-digger, sleaze bucket, or scag they encounter in the streets? I wondered why they are not pleased with the fact that WE are highly educated and that we're handling our business; paying our bills; taking care of kids, house, and home; and can cook a bomb ass meal for them and--of course--I would be negligent if I left out--"represent" between the sheets. Oh noooooo...they are looking for the next jump-off--that trick that they can call at 3:00 a.m. so they can get down and dirty. Listen here, ain't nothin' open at that time but Convenient Stores, jail doors, and the legs of whores!!! Can we please get it together?

So I would like to ask you all to chime in...if you dare...