No Such Thing As A bad Kid

Have you ever heard some one say, “They’re a bad kid”? I have, recently. And I truly believe that there is no such thing as a bad kid. There are misguided kids, kids who are seeking love and attention, troubled kids, and wrong parenting choices.

I have seen parents of Adult children, not taking responsibility for how they turned out. I have noticed that if a child grows up, and is successful in a career, love, is a respectable person, or even a good parent, the people who raised that child stand proud and admit, “Yes, I raised that Boy/Girl”, “They are a chip off the old block” etc…. But if a child grows up to not follow the rules/law, makes bad parenting choices, or is a failure in life, the people who raised that child are caught saying things like “I have no idea how they turned out that way”, or “They certainly were not raised to behave that way”. I shake my head and reply, “Really?”

Babies are born a blank slate. Psychologists, Doctor’s and Scientists have all proved that the first Two years of a child life is the most important time for developing mentally. That in fact, things that happen to a baby or toddler, can contribute to who they become as an adult. It has been proven (and what I thought was common knowledge) is that the parents of a child are the most influential people in that child’s life. Of coarse, others play a role in a child’s development. Close family members, teachers, coaches etc….. We all basically lay out a map, for who a child will grow up to be.

Some of us have heard the argument nature vs. nurture. Meaning, what a child is born with vs. what they are taught. If a child is homosexual, or transgender etc… that is nature. If a child is autistic, down syndrome etc… that is nature. A child that has no respect for parents……nurture.

Once you conceive a baby, every decision you make affects that child. The way you and your spouse/partner fight, the way you and your spouse/partner talk to each other, The way you make up and solve your problems, the way you handle life problems or situations. If a parent is an alcoholic, that child is more likely to grow up to be an alcoholic, and so on.

I have had my struggles with parenting. I have had a to parent a Two year-old coming to me and asking why she doesn’t have a Dad. I have had to comfort and try to explain to a 6 year-old why her baby Sister died. And most recently, a toddler who throws temper tantrums. The most important thing I did for my Daughter, was show her love and support. I keep an open line of communication with her ALWAYS. There have been many times she has come to me and said ” Mom, I need to talk”. And I listen. A very important word….listen, listen to your child. The next most important thing you can do for your child, is acknowledging their good deeds. ALWAYS praise the good behavior, and punish the bad behavior. Consistency, is another important parenting tool.

Kids pick up on everything. You have to watch what you say and do. The best parenting advise I have ever gotten is to practice what you preach, and lead by example, and when there is a tantrum ignore the behavior NOT the child. And yes, that was advise I have received. Part of being a responsible parent, is admitting when you need help. When you are overwhelmed, and most importantly accepting advise or ideas from other parents. They say it take a village to raise a child. It does.

So I will proudly stand here and tell you, that there is no such thing as a bad kid. Kids are not something you own. They are not a pet. They are a person, you chose to have. They are little people wanting love, support, praise, acceptance and guidance. How they behave is a reflection of your parenting.

This Year Marks A Decade Of My Life, I Will Never Forget. Chapter Ten

I’ve been doing a lot of thinking lately, about my past, my present, and my future. At the young age of 21, I started a new chapter in my life. Not only was I going to be a Mom; but I was going to be a single Mom. I had no idea what I was in for, or what I was doing. But I promised myself that I would do what was best for my baby. I promised that I would never lie to her. I would never put myself before her. And that, the most important thing was her happiness.

I didn’t graduate High School, or go to College, but I do consider the last 10 years a success. There are those of you who will disagree, and say that only a College or University degree can make you a success. Those are people I pity. Because they don’t understand what life is really about.

I will be 32 this year, and I have survived a constant struggle. For most people, there 20’s are about school. Worrying about classes, grades, housing, and party’s. My 20’s were about surviving in the real world while raising a child. I’ve gotten my heart broken many times. Once by my first ‘puppy dog love’ Boyfriend. Some by my Dad, some by my Mom, twice by a good friend, and a shattered heart with the death of my baby. And I sit here now, happy and looking forward to the future. I made it through everything, and still find the beauty in life. I feel joy and love when I look at my beautiful Girls, and I can always count on them to put a smile on my face. I am lucky to have found my other half. I am, one of the few who do marry their Best Friend. And I know that if not for him, I may not have made it through the last few years.

We now have our house up for sale. We will be moving into the country. I will be starting a new chapter in my life. I plan on going to school, with hopes of becoming a grief counselor. Maybe even a very small, slight chance of having one more baby.

I do feel very grateful for where I am today. And for the first time, I feel ready to put the last decade behind me. I however, bring with me into the next chapter, the lessons I have learned.

So, no…..Some of you may not see the last decade of my life a success. And that’s okay. Because I have survived the storm of my 20’s. I am wiser and stronger. I have mended relationships that are worth mending. I know who I can count on, and who I can’t. And I know that I am not alone. Sometimes you just have to ask, and someone will be there for you. I may not have a College or University degree, but I do have Three beautiful kids, the best Husband a Women could ask for, Parents and In-Laws, who would do just about anything for me, my Husband, and their Granddaughters, and I also have a Cousin who has stood by me no matter what. I consider myself lucky to have these wonderful people in my life.

Moving forward into my 30’s, I wish Natalie all the best. I still miss her sometimes, and I want her to be happy in whatever she does. I miss her kids, and wish they succeed and find happiness. As for my ex…… I wish he learns to keep it in his pants, and stops reproducing. Kyla doesn’t need any more half siblings out there.

Thank You for reading my blog. Some of them were hard to write. Some of them were badly written. But the purpose of my blog tell my story, heal my soul, and maybe relate to some of you out there. One of the best things we can do for another person, is to let them know that they are not alone. There is someone out there who has been through it, and who understands.

If when I was 20, I had cut ties with my ex and went off to further my education, I would not have Kyla. I would not have moved to Acton. I wouldn’t have been able to build a good friendship with Natalie, and share good memories with her. I may not have met Ashley, the love of my life. And I wouldn’t have lost Paige, or had Zoey. In healing from Paige’s death, I have been able to find what it is that I want to do with my life. Maybe when I was 20, and had done everything differently, I would have missed out on the people who fill my heart with the most love, and the experiences that have prepared me for the future. I would have missed out on events who have made me the strong women I am today. To me, that is more important than any degree.

This Year Marks A Decade In My Life, That I Will Never Forget. Chapter Seven

Through everything going on in my life, my ex was always there “poking his head in” every once in a while. I would hear from him by a phone call or by Facebook. And every time I would get an urge to beat the living crap out of him. One time, when Kyla was 4 years-old, he called and asked to talk to her. He made a very convincing plea about how he want’s to be in her life. I told him that if I let him talk to her, that is it. He is to be a part of her life from this moment on. No going back and forth on being a Dad or not. He promised (which I should have known better, than to believe a promise from him), and I gave Kyla the phone. They talked for a few minutes. He than made me another promise. He said that he would call Kyla the next day after work. He never called………

I was so angry. I was angry with myself for falling for his bullshit again. And I was angry at him for hurting Kyla…again. Ashley was also pissed off. He was feeling protective of Kyla, and he said he didn’t want her to get hurt. I do believe that if Ashley had been face to face with Brad, he would have beat the crap out of him. Just because how much he has hurt me and Kyla.

In 2011, Ashley and I started the process of getting Brad to sign over his parental rights. Ashley was going to adopt Kyla.

With a lot of hassle, Brad finally signed over his rights. Ashley adopted Kyla.

I decided to leave out a lot of details about my history with Brad. GOD knows there isn’t enough paper or a big enough computer screen to tell you everything. I will just tell you that the people who know me, and my character know the truth. The people who still fall for his bullshit lies..well, I feel pity for them. The last I heard, Brad got married, had a baby girl, and is now divorced. Apparently she told Brad that he wasn’t the Father of their child. I could bet money that he is the Father. He is just up to his lies once again, to run away from responsibility.

I can say I have no feelings at all for Brad. Not even anger. It took me a long time to get over him and his abandoning me and Kyla. I have gone through all of the emotions. I have shed way to many tears over him. I have moved on. Kyla and I are happy. Kyla has a fantastic Dad (one she deserves). I don’t wish Brad the best. I wish him nothing. I truly believe with all of my heart that he is a sociopath.

I do like to give advice on this topic to other people in similar situations. I also try to tell people, that when you see a ‘Man’ bashing his baby Mama, calling her this and that, blaming her for this and that, and denying his child. 90% of the time, it’s the guy who is in the fault. That ‘crazy bitch’ or ‘slut’ he’s talking about, is raising his child. Taking responsibility, while he runs around sleeping with who ever will open his legs for him.

I ask you, please, when you see a single Mother, don’t assume she is a gold digger or crazy. Assume that, she is a Women who was fucked over, by some immature sorry excuse for a ‘Man’.

 

To Be Continued………..

This Year Marks A Decade Of My Life, I Will Never Forget. Chapter Five

My Husband and I were married July 2, 2011. We conceived a baby on our Honeymoon. That was our plan. At that time, we thought our plans would go exactly as we had laid them out. What we didn’t know, was that we were about to learn, that life doesn’t always turn out the way you want it to. And plans sometimes go in the shitter (metaphorically speaking)

When we found out that we were pregnant, we were excited. That is until Two weeks later we had a threatened miscarriage. The Doctor in the Hospitals Emergency, told me to take it easy for the next 24 hours. So, we went home, and I did nothing for 24 hours. I was scared.

24 hours has pasted and, baby was fine. I was able to continue with regular activity.

The pregnancy continued, and it seemed I had problem after problem. I had Gestational Diabetes, and had to inject myself with insulin. I had Gestational Hypertension (very high blood pressure) and pre-eclampsia (which I didn’t even know I had, until after the pregnancy) I also developed hot itchy feet. The itch got so bad, that I developed blisters, and had to sleep with a bucket of cold water beside the couch every night. Yep, I had to sleep on the couch, because I found our bedroom to humid, which would make my feet act up. I was starting to feel down. I didn’t know if I could make it through the pregnancy.

Because my first pregnancy and delivery went perfectly, my doctor was planning on a natural birth for this baby. I was uneasy about that, but I kept my mouth shut.

The blister on my feet got so bad, that I decided to get the doctors to look at it. During my non-stress test, I showed the nurse my feet. The look on her face made me embarrassed. She put gloves on, and was afraid to touch my feet. To give you a mental visual….. my feet were very swollen,as I was about 35 weeks pregnant. They were red from scratching, and had blisters all over them.

No one was able to figure out what was going on.

At 36 weeks, everything got so bad, that my Husband took me to emergency. The doctor who was on-call, brushed off my problems, and told me to take Benadryl. At the time I didn’t know that Benadryl can increase your blood pressure. I probably shouldn’t have been taking that.

A few days later, my doctor would tell me that at 37 weeks I would be induced. The baby was to big for me to go to 40 weeks, and with all my problems, it would be safer to induce early.

Induction day arrived, and my Husband and I went to the hospital to have our baby.

Around 9am, my doctor came in, and put a strip on my cervix that was supposed to get labor started. A few hours in, and the pain was unbearable. Now, I should tell you, that I have a high pain tolerance. So the fact that I was in tears, and couldn’t sit or stand because of the pain, my Husband and myself knew there was something wrong. Of coarse the nurse brushed it off, and told me “Induced labor is more painful than natural labor”. I knew something was wrong. They decided to get me an epidural. It did nothing. I could still feel so much pain on my right side. The doctor, nurses and the anesthesiologist were perplexed. The anesthesiologist said I shouldn’t be feeling anything. That’s when my doctor noticed blood between my legs.

 

Something like 7 1/2 hours after induction, I was being wheeled down the hall, on my way to have an emergency c-section.  During the c-section, they made my Husband leave my side, and wait in the hall. He knew then that something was seriously wrong. He was terrified for me and the baby. I was so doped up that I could feel anxious or scared. I remember asking if my Husband was okay.

The doctor took the baby out. There was no crying. I remember seeing a group of people gathered around her. I couldn’t see her. They stitched me up, and sent me to recovery.

We were told that the doctor was on the phone with Sick Kids Hospital. I remember I looked at my Husband and said, “If there is something wrong with her, that is were she should be”.

A short time later, the Pediatrician came into the recovery room, and told us that our baby passed away. I was so dehydrated, that I couldn’t cry.

The hardest thing my Husband and I have ever had to do together, is leave that hospital without a baby. I remember my Husband wheeled me to the main lobby of the hospital, so he could pull the car around. As he was walking out the hospital door, a man carrying a car seat, and a big smile on his face, came walking in. In that moment I felt so incredibly sad for my Husband. Seeing that man must have been a kick in the fave.

My Husband, our Daughter (who was 6 years-old at the time), and myself, spent the first week after our baby’s death, laying around the house. We didn’t watch TV or anything. We just sat, and stared.

Than we had to plan a funeral for our little Girl……….

This Year marks A Decade Of My Life, I Will Never Forget. Chapter Three

Finding Love as a Single Mother……

I was recovering very well from the whiplash. The insurance company was taking care of the accident, and me unable to find a job fast enough, and still no child support coming in; I had to rely once again on Ontario Works for income (Not something I’m proud of). I found myself with all of this extra time on my hands.  I started thinking now what? It was one of those times you do a little recessing on your life.

When Kyla was born, my life was all about her. For the first 15 months of her life. I had absolutely no interest in dating. I eventually started thinking about it, but after everything my ex had put me through, I just wanted to have fun.(Well, as much fun as you can have while being a responsible Mom.) Don’t get the wrong idea. I was not out all the time partying. Every other weekend was all I got. But hey, it was better than nothing, after all I was only 25, and single. To tell you the truth…I never really was the ‘party’ type. No matter what I did, I always played it a little safe.

Now I was 25 with a Three year-old. Kyla was well taken care of, and I was ready to find some one I could possibly settle down with. I was lonely. One of the bad sides to being single in your 20’s. After a night of drinking, my best friend would go home to her Husband, and I went home to no one. I wanted to have some one to come home to.

One day I was hanging out at Natalie’s. I was telling her how I was ready to finally find a good Man. She suggested that I try on-line dating. Natalie had made this suggestion before, and I had laughed it off. I told her that I didn’t want to meet someone that way. But the second time she suggested it, I decided to give it a try. I wasn’t 100% sold on the idea, but in real life you don’t meet men while doing your grocery shopping, and guys some of my friends tried hooking me up with, just didn’t meet up to my standards (the word immature comes to mind).  I made way to a computer and started looking for a dating site (I was trying to find one that I didn’t have to pay for). Finally I found one, I set up a profile and started looking at men’s profiles. I realized at that moment that this wasn’t going to be easy. Maybe my standards were to high, but I had a Daughter to look out for.

About 2 weeks after I set up my profile, I got a message from this guy named Ashley. (And yes, I did giggle a little about his name). He was a farmer, who hated smoking, he liked piercings and tattoos, like country and rock/metal music, didn’t drink, and honestly….that’s all I remember about what his profile said. I was intrigued.

My profile (if I can remember) I was quitting smoking, I drank socially, I was a single mom, I liked all kinds of music, I liked piercings and tattoos, and that’s I can recall.

We passed a few messaged back and forth, but we both wanted to meet in person. There was no point in an online relationship. Might as well meet, and find out right away if we click.

March 7, 2009. It was a rainy day.  I drove to a Milton Tim Horton’s. I was so nervous. My plan was to arrive first. I was the first one there, so I  ordered a coffee, and waited. Then a White and Blue Ford F350 Diesel pickup with a snow plow on the front, drove into the parking lot. I knew when I saw that truck,  that was the farmer I was waiting for.

He came in, bought a hot chocolate and come and sat down. To this day Ashley claims to have tripped on a chair while he was walking over, but I was so nervous, that I didn’t even notice.

We sat and talked, and before we knew it, it was time to part ways. We agreed to see each other again. Possibly a movie date. I didn’t want to leave. I liked him, and I wanted to talk some more.

When I met up with my Cousin (who was watching Kyla for me), I was so excited. I knew then , that I didn’t want to meet anyone else.

To Be Continued……….

 

This Year Marks A Decade Of My Life, I Will Never Forget. Chapter Two

Baby Daddy Drama……

2005 marked my Grandparents 50th wedding anniversary, Kyla was 4 weeks old, and we were dinning at a fancy restaurant with my Mom’s side of the family. I will never forget that day. That was the day I found out that Kyla’s Bio-Dad (or ‘sperm donor’, as his Mother likes to call him) had a new Girlfriend. The news of a new Girlfriend didn’t bother me. It was her age……. she was only 17. He would have been 24 years of age at the time; she was 17 and her name was Jenn. That was when I decided to take him to court for full custody and child support (which I wasn’t getting).

Through out my pregnancy he played me, and everyone else. Girl after Girl, he tried running from the truth, and the responsibility he didn’t want. And because of his constant refusal to admit that he was the Father. My Dad offered to pay for a paternity test. Brad refused to get one.

After the baby was born, I tried to be civil. I took Kyla over to his place so she could visit with him. Every time there was a group of his friends there. Then one time his new girlfriend was there. I sat in the kitchen watching him hold his baby, while this 17 year-old girl cooed over my Daughter. I noticed that Jenn had a Dora backpack. I was disgusted that Brad was the Father of my baby, and he had a girlfriend who carried a Dora the Explorer backpack. Yep…I had a problem with that. I told him that his baby comes first. And that we need to be civil with each other for her sake. That conversation didn’t go well. He seemed to have so much anger with me. One time he left a nasty message on my voicemail He must have called me every name in the book. I was scared at what he might do. So I made a report with the police.

After that he started to care a little less about the baby. He wouldn’t pay child support, buy diapers, formula, or anything. Then our first court date came. I dressed in black dress pants, a pink turtle neck sweater, heels, and put my hair up. I had a lawyer, and I was ready to go. Brad showed up in blue jeans, long hair, a brown leather jacket, and no lawyer. The judge seemed slightly pissed, and gave us another court date.

Court day number 2 came and I again was with my lawyer, dressed in a professional manner. Brad didn’t show………. So the judge granted me full custody, and ordered Brad to pay child support, and arrears that were owing since Kyla was born. A few weeks later Brad moved to British Columbia with his 17 year-old girlfriend. Kyla and I never saw him again.

I remember thinking; “Why did he sign the Birth Registration if he didn’t want anything to do with her?”. I mean he could have walked away scott free if he didn’t sign. I guess I will never know why he did sign those papers.

In 2007 I was ready to go back to work. I enrolled Kyla into Daycare, and off I went. I got a full-time job working at a dry cleaners. It wasn’t a fancy job, but it payed the bills. There still wasn’t any child support coming in, so I needed any hours I could get. I worked Monday-Friday 8am-5 pm and every Saturday 9am-5pm. Than some weekends my parents would take Kyla for the night, and I would go hang out with my Bestie Natalie, her Husband Josh, and some of his friends. I was happy. Kyla was happy. Life was good.

There were times, living alone with a baby was scary. When Kyla was just a baby, I was living in the one bedroom apartment. Two Men knocked on my door. I saw them through the peep hole. This creepy feeling ran through me. When I didn’t answer the door, one of them said ” Answer the door, we’re not going to hurt you”. I had just put Kyla’s new crib together, and the box was still in the hallway. So these guys knew I was there with a baby. I picked up the phone and called Natalie. The plan was, her Husband was going to come over, pretend to be my boyfriend, and scare those guys away. But while I was on the phone with her I mentioned the police. The guys heard me and said “Police?”. And they left. I may have slept with a knife beside the bed that night. I was terrified.

In 2009 I was in a car accident. I was in Georgetown, and this young girl in a Chrysler company van rear ended me. My car was totaled. I had whiplash, and had to take 6 weeks off of work. Thank God Kyla was not in the car. The whole frame was shifted, her side ( back passengers side) got the worst of it. Because I had to take so much time off, if caused me a lot of grief at work. People got nasty. The work environment got so bad, that I decided to quit. The job hunting began, and I had to find one fast.

To Be Continued…….

 

 

 

 

 

This Year Marks A Decade Of My Life, I Will Never Forget. Chapter One

This July will mark 10 years since I moved out of my parents home. I was 21 years-old, 6 Months pregnant, and getting ready to raise a baby all by myself. This year marks one decade of my life I will never forget…….

January 2005 I found out I was pregnant. The Father? A guy I was dating for 4 years, Brad. The last year was rough. We were on and off. I was young and naive. I believed that baby makes three, which means happiness. Boy was I wrong. To put it plainly….he was an ass with a capital A. I haven’t seen him in 9 years, and haven’t heard from him in 6 years, but I will assume, that he is still an ass.

Any way, back to the story…… I was scared shit-less to tell my parents. I remember when it came out.

My parents had decided that we needed family counseling. I blurted out that I was pregnant in the middle of a session. My Dad was furious. At the time I was scared, but now, I can laugh at the expression on the counselors face when my Dad exploded with anger. She was in shock over the whole situation, and had no clue how to handle it. It was decided that I would move out. I was told that I could not live in their house with a baby. That was okay with me; I thought I could take on the world. After all I was 21, and thought I knew everything about how the world worked. During the coarse of my pregnancy, I had a few people tell me that I couldn’t do it alone. That fueled my need to prove that I was mature, and smart enough to raise this baby alone.

As the Months went on, I had built up this fantasy, that my ex and I would get a place and raise the baby together. He was  DJ at a local bar, where most of the towns young 20 somethings hung out. I would go with my Cousin. I would dance, order pop, and convince myself that he really loved me. I desperately wanted him to accept our baby. I thought I was cool; pregnant with the Dj’s baby. I look back know, and I see how young, desperate, and naive I was. People were divided on who they believed. Some bought his lies, while others I guess pitied me and knew he was just being a dead beat daddy. I would see him flirt with other girls. I knew that he was denying the baby. The story he was telling, was that I was an ex girlfriend who was obsessed with him, and wanted him back, I was a slut, and the baby wasn’t his. At the same time he was telling these lies, he was going apartment hunting with me. Rubbing my belly and talking to the baby. But I think I knew inside that I was supposed to go it alone. So I made the decision to raise this baby without him. And I promise myself that I would be the best Mom, I would never lie to her, and I would always put her first.

The day came, July 2005 I moved into a crappy one bedroom apartment in the small town of Acton. It was above a store, and I think my neighbor was a crack head. It wasn’t the safest place for a single Mother and her baby, but it was home. Moving day was a happy, and a scary day. I was feeling independent, like I could take on the world. But after I was all moved in, and everyone left; I cried my eyes out. I was so scared. It had finally hit me. I was going to be raising a baby all by myself. And the only person I knew in Acton, was my Best Friend at the time, Natalie. Man, was I happy to have her around. She had a Son 2 years earlier, and she was my safe place when I was lonely and scared.

Kyla was 10 days early, being born September 26, 2005. My cat woke me up at 3:00AM on September 25. I went to the washroom, felt something weird, so I decided to sit on the couch instead of going back to bed. 1 minute after I sat down my water broke all over my couch. I panicked and called my parents, who were in Milton, 20 minutes away from me. Shortly after, my parents arrived to take me to Milton Hospital. My Mom called Brad, and told him I was having the baby. He came to the hospital and was the worst labour coach ever. He went out for a cigarette what seemed like every 5 minutes. So Kathryn, my Cousin/Best Friend/’Sister’ came in and sat with me.  7.5 hours later I gave birth to the most beautiful baby girl. I was in love.

A few hours after the baby was born Brad disappeared. When he finally decided to come visit us, he would sit and fall asleep holding Kyla. He was pretty good at acting like he gave a shit. One time before leaving the hospital, he tried to kiss me good-bye. I pulled away and said “What are you doing? Just because we have a baby together, doesn’t mean we are together.” Leaving on my own for that short time, and meeting my baby had made me grow up, and I had put my priorities together. I no longer needed him. I was fine doing it alone. All I wanted from him, was to be a Dad to Kyla.

When it came time to fill out the baby registration form, he insisted that Kyla take his last name. We argued for days over that. I gave in, and gave the baby his name. I guess I thought that would make him change, and decide to be apart of his Daughters life. Course, I thought him being there for her birth would make him change, but it didn’t.

17 Months after moving out into that crappy one bedroom apartment, I was  able to move into a Two bedroom apartment (still in Acton). To say I was happy about it would be an understatement. I was ecstatic! The best part, besides being able to have my own room……..I didn’t have to walk across the street to do my laundry. There was a laundry room downstairs in my building.  And also, I was only a 2 minute walk from my Best friends house. I remember when I got the phone call that Kyla and I were moving. I hung up the phone, and started jumping up and down in excitement. Kyla smiled and started to jump up and down too. To see my little 15 Month old toddler looking at me with that smile on her face; I knew that we would be okay. Just me and her. We were a team.

To be continued….

 

 

Merry Christmas…..Or Whatever It Is That You Say

Today is Christmas Eve. And while I was out today I have been hearing a lot of Merry Christmas’s being past around, and I say it back proudly. I am surprised at how many still say that. We’ve have all seen posts going around Facebook, telling people to say Merry Christmas instead of Happy Holidays. Or those people who post to social media groups saying that Christmas is being taken away from us. Well….I call Bullshit on that theory.

Canada is multicultural, especially here in Ontario. We have all sorts of religions here, and I can honestly say that never, have I had someone get angry or upset with me for saying Merry Christmas. To those who get upset and blame immigrants for trying to steal Christmas, let me point out some logic here for you.

No one has the right to stop you from celebrating Christmas. What you celebrate in your home is your business. I do say Merry Christmas to people, and in return I welcome them to say Happy whatever it is they celebrate back to me, and I don’t get offended. NO ONE is trying to stop Christmas. It’s all in your head. Along with all your hate. Maybe more Christians should embrace other cultures, while embracing their own.

I for one am tired of seeing and hearing people complain about how we are losing the right to celebrate Christmas. I think with all the hate going around, we are losing sight of what the Holidays really mean. The true meaning of Christmas. Love, Family, Friends, Giving, and of coarse Food 😉

Maybe you should take a minute and look around. Look at what you have, and how lucky you are that you have it. Some out there have nothing. Some are sleeping on the street tonight, with no family, and no turkey supper. Some families can’t afford gifts for their children. My kids are ecstatic about Santas arrival and presents tomorrow morning. My heart breaks for those children who will have an bare tree Christmas morning, or no tree at all. So instead of all complaining, how about you get off your ass and give to the less fortunate?

Merry Christmas….. or Happy whatever you celebrate!

 

 

 

Religion and Spirituality Part 1

Religion…. That is one word that gets people angry, and has started wars. Why? Why would a word that is meant to symbolize spiritual freedom, righteousness, and love, be a hot topic for most people?

 

I started my blog almost Two years ago, and I have been debating writing a blog about religion this entire time. I have gone back and forth, to write or not to write about this topic. I have been collecting (mentally) different information, and keeping an open mind to what different people believe. As you read this I ask you to keep an open mind. I am not a very religious person, and nor do I force my opinion or beliefs onto others. I am just merely examining my thoughts, and the thoughts of others………

Demons. Hell. Heaven. Angels. GOD. Jesus. You have heard different stories, seen movies and read books about every single one of these. Christianity tells us that if we sin and do not repent, we will go to Hell. If you do not believe in GOD, you will go to Hell. I have to admit that I have been confused by the whole religious thing my entire life. I have thought about creation VS. Evolution. I have thought about how science give us answers, results, maybe even facts. I have thought about how the Bible seems to be filled with very imaginative stories. And about how religion gives no answers, results or facts………Do I have your attention yet?……. Let’s look into that last statement a little more, shall we. I say that religion give us no answers, results or facts, because it is all based upon hope. That’s it, just hope. The hope that there is something better out there. Hope that there has to be something better than what you live everyday here on earth. Now, I’m not saying that there is anything wrong with hope, hope gets people through some pretty tough situations. I’m just pointing out how so many people put all of their heart and soul into something that they don’t even know exists. Is it a strong fear, of what if Hell exists, that motivates people to believe in something they have never seen? We have all hear a story of someone who was at deaths door, maybe even passed for a minute or so, than came back. These people claim to have seen GOD. My Grandmother had claimed to have seen GOD, and he sent her back because it wasn’t time yet. It is stories like these that make it so you can’t help but wonder what if. What if there is a GOD? What if there is a heaven? Will I get in? What happens after you die?

All of us can agree that religion is dying. More and more people choose not to believe. It is safe to say that most families nowadays don’t attend church. Those who attend church regularly would say that is what’s wrong with the world today, not enough Christian values in today’s society…… I guess that could be true, but what about those who don’t attend church, but still lead a christian life. My family for example. We don’t attend church unless it’s for a funeral or a wedding, and we don’t live a life of constant sin. We are truthful, my Husband and I are monogamist, we teach our children to be kind, honest and caring to everyone, to help your fellow man. I ask, what about some people who attend church regularly, and sin any chance they get? Do they get to go and do whatever they want just because the go to church? What about those priests who were molesting little boys of families who attended church? Do they get into heaven over me? I don’t think it matters whether or not you attend church. I think it comes down to who you are on the inside. You can con any person on earth into believing that you are a good christian, and a kind, trustworthy person, but GOD knows who you are on the inside. After all, if GOD created us, then he would know what’s in your soul. Wouldn’t he? I like to think that if there is a GOD, there is no acceptance for certain sins. GOD may forgive cheating on your spouse, or stealing lip gloss from a store, or lying, but I refuse to believe that he would forgive kidnapping, molestation, cold blooded murder, or worse. Whether you beg and plea, or are on your death bed, some things just aren’t forgivable. A true righteous GOD would condemn some people to an eternity of torture in Hell. I can not believe in a GOD that would let a child molester walk side by side with me through Heavens gates.

 

Lets move on to Guardian Angels. I’m not entirely sure what the christian church tells us about angels. Some believe that we all have a guardian angel that watches over us. Some believe that passed loved ones are our guardian angels. Others believe that there are no angels watching over you, and that you stay safe from certain situations because of natural instinct. I have been in situations where I went to do something and I felt a strong pull, and every instinct in my body is yelling at me ‘NO, DON’T DO IT’. Is that the work of a guardian angel, or just my natural instinct? Ever hear about Women’s Intuition? I have it, we all have it. Some of us just listen better than others. However, I do think it’s nice to think that maybe there are Guardian Angels that watch over us. It does feel good to believe that someone has your back, even if you can’t see them.

Ever meet someone and get a strong feeling that you can’t trust them? I have. Is that natural instinct or a Guardian Angel? I have to give Man Kind some credit, and believe that there is an instinct inside all of us, and it is up to you to listen to it, and make decisions wisely. I let my instincts guide me through life. It does make life easier when you follow yourself and not what others tell you……. That brings me to the next question. If you follow GOD does he place all good things in your future? Or does he like to watch us suffer just a little from time to time? Or maybe it’s just a case of you not listening to signs from GOD or your own instinct. What if you meet a priest or reverend, and you get a bad feeling about them. Is it okay to turn your back on the church and trust your instinct or Guardian Angel? Or do you ignore it for the sake of the church?

 

TO BE CONTINUED

 

A Change for the Better

I was up at 6:00am this morning. I woke and couldn’t get back to sleep.  My brain feels like it’s in overdrive. My thoughts go a mile a minute……….. What is it that has my mind racing at 6:00am on a holiday Monday? My parents.

I sit quietly drinking a coffee. I listen to the silence of my house. Everyone else is still asleep. I think about the night before, when I was at my parents and listening, and seeing how my Mom feels about herself. I see her cry and hear her say that she has no self esteem. I watch my Dad’s reaction to this, and I begin to fully think about how our actions and words affect others.

After my coffee, and everyone else still asleep, I decide to go downstairs and get a quick workout in.

Then, everyone else still asleep, I decide to write this blog……..I have the words in my head, but I am having trouble getting it out. Odd for me. Usually when I sit and write my blog the words just flow. Maybe I should go back into the past a little bit, to give you a better understanding of me and my parents.

I guess you could say that my parents and I are a little broken. If you have been following my blogs, you already know that I have blamed my parents for a lot. I even went a period of time of not talking to them. Things have changed for the better and we are all working towards mending our family. I have been through therapy and my Dad has as well. My Mom has just started and has a very long road ahead of her.

My Mom has very low self esteem. She was told by her therapist to write down 10 things that she likes about herself. Her bristol board remains blank. She can’t talk about it without crying. I know I should give her a hug, I want to give her a hug. But I have trouble. Not because I don’t care, but because I don’t know how to comfort her. I can comfort my Husband and my Girls, but I have trouble with showing affection towards my parents.

What is weighing heavily on my mind, is self esteem and how we teach our children to view themselves. How we teach our children to comfort, and to express emotions without shame. I think about where my Mom’s self esteem issues came from.

My Mom’s sisters have told her that she needs to get over it. As far as I know, they offer no comforting words or gestures. Is this because maybe growing up they were not taught how to comfort? My Aunts love my Mom, so please do not assume that there is no love in my family. They weren’t taught the skills to comfort. As most people aren’t. This would have been passed down through the generations.

I think about not just what my family and I can do, what she needs to do for herself. I was in therapy, because I lost my skills to cope. I have been through a lot, seen a lot and losing my baby was just the last straw. Thus the reason for going some time without talking to my parents. I couldn’t cope with my own problems let alone anyone elses. Hell, I couldn’t cope with anything. I still have trouble and sometimes I need to put myself on a time out, but I have come a long way to getting back to being myself. Getting my fight back. That was something I had to do myself, but kind words and support from my Husband gave me the confidence that I needed to get back to my normal.

Both of my parents weren’t taught how to comfort others. That was one issue I had growing up. I felt I was left alone to deal with all the problems of the world. Over the years I developed a thick skin. I learned how to put up walls. Now watching my Mom, it becomes clear to me, just how high my walls are. My highest walls are the ones between myself and my parents. It all comes full circle. When my Mom tells me that she loves me, I can now say it back. Now, that may seem like a small thing, even a normal thing for you. But for me this is huge. I have to learn to comfort my Mom. To help us all fix our relationships we have to learn to give comfort, even if that person has not given it to us. I think that my whole family needs to learn to comfort each other. Not just for my Mom’s sake, but for the well being of everyone. We need to teach the next generation to be more compassionate.

So I guess I will end this blog with  advice to everyone. Be more compassionate to others. Our world is full of anger and hate. With each passing generation it gets worse. I don’t mean to sound like a tree hugging hippe, but I fear for the generations to come. I fear that my Girls will grow up feeling worthless and have no confidence in themselves. I will make a change to turn the cycle around. Will you?