Tag Archives: Parenting

Mother’s Day me and the preacherman!


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Sister dear


I have found myself remiss!

Not that this is the first time this has happened … tends to be the normal for me these days.  Although, I did do the right thing yesterday on the historic day of my big sister’s birthday, the one thing I forgot … I am busy by the way … I am an important person! LOL Well, maybe just too busy, but, nevertheless, I omitted a very important blog post.

My tradition has been to celebrate, in words, my dear family members that have had an important day … i.e., birthday or whatever. And, I did do this in one fashion by way of her gift. But I forgot to write her a blog post for which I humbly beg forgiveness. Not to her because she would probably rather me NOT … but to myself.

I enjoy so much writing about my V.I.P.’s, and so, here is the make up!

In reference to the birthday gift … I made a lame homemade one! WooHoo, right?

What am I seven? Apparently so! But, there I went, making her a handmade gift. I think it was a hit, though, because it made us both cry! Geez we have gotten old. What goes around comes around.

Back in my younger days when I was in college and was having a “dry spell” so to speak and I would spend my Saturday nights watching “DALLAS” (which I loved, no haters out there, please) (and, yes, I am thrilled to have it make a comeback. Don’t call me at eight o’clock tomorrow night!) anyways … I would make collages.

I recycled back then. My love for magazines and love to create worked together. I would cut out words, like any good kidnapper, that were interesting and/or had a cool font … my graphics mind coming through there … and I made word collages.

Sometimes they were about certain subjects and sometimes just random. It was fun to me and they were very pretty and interesting to look at. Or, at least I thought they were. On the occasion of my Nephews graduation from high school I made him one. He probably thought … how lame!

I thought that with a collage I would say all the things to and about my sister that are sometimes awkward to say face to face. What do you do for a person who nearly raised you, when you got in the way most of the time … moving in and out on her for years? She has always had a soft heart for me, as I have for her. She has ALWAYS BEEN THERE FOR ME! ALWAYS! More than anyone else in my family, before my husband of course. Even as grown-ups she has been my sounding board, protector, and comrade in arms.

Growing up she was the coolest of the cool. She was a true real hippie back in the ’70’s when it was cool to be. These kids these days ain’t got nothing on the gang back then.

With her long auburn hair and big hazel eyes she was gorgeous and seemed to attract many cute guys … which I LOVED. Her group of friends were fun to hang around … on a limited basis for me since I was like eleven-ish and beyond. Great music to be heard and embroidered jeans and jackets … cool drawings and ART. Must be where I got it from!

I could never show her how much I have loved being raised by her. She was a trip for sure and when you are a kid without any strong basis for feeling secure, she was there for me … always.

Happy Birthday sister dear, my friend, and fellow blogger … who is whippin’ my butt in the bloggosphere … Miss-out-do-me! I am happy to relinquish  to her the braggin’ rights. She deserves it all!

Happy Birthday Sharon … and many many more!

I hope she takes a better picture and replaces this one for me … she helps me edit since I am a hopeless failure at it!!!

 

Sister dear


I have found myself remiss!

Not that this is the first time this has happened … tends to be the normal for me these days.  Although, I did do the right thing yesterday on the historic day of my big sister’s birthday, the one thing I forgot … I am busy by the way … I am an important person! LOL Well, maybe just too busy, but, nevertheless, I omitted a very important blog post.

My tradition has been to celebrate, in words, my dear family members that have had an important day … i.e., birthday or whatever. And, I did do this in one fashion by way of her gift. But I forgot to write her a blog post for which I humbly beg forgiveness. Not to her because she would probably rather me NOT … but to myself.

I enjoy so much writing about my V.I.P.’s, and so, here is the make up!

In reference to the birthday gift … I made a lame homemade one! WooHoo, right?

What am I seven? Apparently so! But, there I went, making her a handmade gift. I think it was a hit, though, because it made us both cry! Geez we have gotten old. What goes around comes around.

Back in my younger days when I was in college and was having a “dry spell” so to speak and I would spend my Saturday nights watching “DALLAS” (which I loved, no haters out there, please) (and, yes, I am thrilled to have it make a comeback. Don’t call me at eight o’clock tomorrow night!) anyways … I would make collages.

I recycled back then. My love for magazines and love to create worked together. I would cut out words, like any good kidnapper, that were interesting and/or had a cool font … my graphics mind coming through there … and I made word collages.

Sometimes they were about certain subjects and sometimes just random. It was fun to me and they were very pretty and interesting to look at. Or, at least I thought they were. On the occasion of my Nephews graduation from high school I made him one. He probably thought … how lame!

I thought that with a collage I would say all the things to and about my sister that are sometimes awkward to say face to face. What do you do for a person who nearly raised you, when you got in the way most of the time … moving in and out on her for years? She has always had a soft heart for me, as I have for her. She has ALWAYS BEEN THERE FOR ME! ALWAYS! More than anyone else in my family, before my husband of course. Even as grown-ups she has been my sounding board, protector, and comrade in arms.

Growing up she was the coolest of the cool. She was a true real hippie back in the ’70’s when it was cool to be. These kids these days ain’t got nothing on the gang back then.

With her long auburn hair and big hazel eyes she was gorgeous and seemed to attract many cute guys … which I LOVED. Her group of friends were fun to hang around … on a limited basis for me since I was like eleven-ish and beyond. Great music to be heard and embroidered jeans and jackets … cool drawings and ART. Must be where I got it from!

I could never show her how much I have loved being raised by her. She was a trip for sure and when you are a kid without any strong basis for feeling secure, she was there for me … always.

Happy Birthday sister dear, my friend, and fellow blogger … who is whippin’ my butt in the bloggosphere … Miss-out-do-me! I am happy to relinquish  to her the braggin’ rights. She deserves it all!

Happy Birthday Sharon … and many many more!

I hope she takes a better picture and replaces this one for me … she helps me edit since I am a hopeless failure at it!!!

 

Am I Mother Enough!?…don’t get me started!


In honor of Mother’s Day I feel compelled to give the real and freakishly truthful NEWS about motherhood. This is not only a gripe session but is a call out to all the sensible mothers out there.

Being a mother is the hardest job in the world but also the most rewarding. We women are pretty special. We create people in our womb. Yes, we need help from the guys but still pretty awesome nonetheless! I see it as a great honor as well as a place of great responsibility.

I am not amused by the happy-go-lucky attitude of some people. This brings me to the point …

AM I MOM ENOUGH?

Get real!!!

Are you Mom enough?

If TIME Magazine can write a story on it, I suppose I can too!

Y’all had to take something so sweet and turn it into a curiosity, a non-news event.

Report on news that will cause us all to have good jobs or how to be millionaires in ten easy steps or something equally as moronic.

For Pete’s sake, we’ve been doing this for years. Y’all just now figuring all this out!?! I don’t remember anyone doing an expose’ on me nursing my four kids!

It is nauseating — your compelling news story on the FRONT PAGE is asking — am I mom enough!?!

SHUT UP!!

Is this the deciding factor? Nursing or staying attached longer to our children?

Do not get me wrong. I am all for it, breast-feeding that is. I had this honor — times four. It was joyful and precious and sweet and a special time in my life. I think any woman who chooses to experience this should be commended and honored, as well as those who choose not to.

It is each women’s “RIGHT” to choose what they do with their own body, if I am not mistaken. At least that is what I heard growing up in the ’60’s and I do still believe to this day. I also believe we all have a moral compass which guides us in all areas of our womanhood.

What happened to good taste and etiquette?

I do think that it shouldn’t be anything goes, which brings me to this article. Since when do we feel the need to broadcast one of the most intimate things between a woman and her child? What happened to the element of good taste?

Many years ago, when I was a young mother, still nursing my first-born, we had another couple over for dinner. About the time for dessert, the woman “whips out her left breast” and begins to nurse her baby right there at the dinner table!

My husband, being a man of great strength, looked straight ahead at me, never staring at this woman directly (much like the sun) while watching me nearly blow a gasket. No blanket to cover up, nothing! How rude could she be? Apparently VERY RUDE!

When I finally commented on it, the only answer I got was, “it is as natural as can be!”

BULL — she was an exhibitionist!

Don’t get me wrong. It is natural. And if I lived in the jungles of Africa, and that was the norm, then, by all means, I would be whipping it out with all the other women. They also had to carry big baskets on their heads and draw water miles away from their home and so on. We live in a MODERN WORLD here in America! I would like to see her work like a mule in that culture — selective freedoms I say!

God has blessed us with smart people who invented indoor plumbing and wagons to haul stuff and nice little comfortable recliner chairs — and doors with locks, behind which to go and nurse our babies in peace and quiet. We can enjoy this precious time with our little ones — instead of being out in a noisy room with people gawking at us. That cannot be peaceful and satisfying for babies.

Am I wrong here?

"Joan of Arc Saved France," a 1918 U...

The unabashed drama of women who swagger around like Joan of Arc to prove a point — to prove they can! Oh Lordy, makes me want to choke. And, just in case anyone reads this and thinks — what a prude — wrong, so very wrong! I am the least prudish person you would ever meet. I have no false pride and am very aware of the world around me. That is the problem.

Back to the story …

I knew then this chick, who felt so free to sprawl out in front of God and everybody, was going to be a pill. A few years later this woman proved me right.

She managed to cause pain and discourse through her own family. Mostly, because she didn’t want anyone to be the boss of her! Give me a break! She had no character. And, if she had, she would have been more discreet about what is one of the most lovely acts any woman can perform.

These babies that we are given deserve the attention they should receive, not in a hurry up and get this done fashion, or as if they’re in the way of our lives. Take the time to nurture them.

So, after seeing this magazine cover, I must say it has become an homogenized world out there. Take something so sweet and make it mundane and common. Take all the goodness out of it and add in filthy stares and glares.

I promise you this, as the mother of three men, they were not looking at the picture with “oh how sweet that is” eyes. It was more like, what a babe! Wish that kid wasn’t in the way!

Once again, sex sells! Can’t fight city hall, I guess.

Furthermore, as if my rant hasn’t been enough, a word on the principle of “the attachment philosophy.”

Heaven help us!

Take it from a mother who nurtured ’til the cows came home, I couldn’t have been a more cuddly or huggy or kissy or allow my kids to pile up in the bed with us parent. We absolutely smothered them with attention and affirmation as well as a good whippin’ when they needed it. Not that I condone that. I have evolved! And, I wish we hadn’t, but we learn from this and it wasn’t done harshly. Just hard to think of it now.

Although, ours were normal kids with all the lies and trouble three kids can cause. We were a very close family and still are so we must have not done too badly with them.They are still pretty darn clingy, which I must say I love — most of the time!

I do feel that the twenty years (ugh!) I stayed home with them may have been better if I had left them a bit more. As I look back, a tour of duty at a daycare may not have been too harmful. It could have toughened them up. Helped them learn some street smarts and how to fend for themselves. My kids were woefully unprepared for real life and they weren’t even home schooled! (No offense to home schooled kids. That is just the banter people say — that they won’t be socialized enough!) My kids were socialized. I just think they were attached to me too much, which was my own doing I know! Mother guilt hard at work!

So when I see the front cover of a national magazine with a picture of a three-year-old boy attached to his momma‘s breast, I want to yell, “come talk to me in twenty years!!” I’ll be saying, “How’s that working for ya!”

Mother's Day card
Mother’s Day card (Photo credit: Wikipedia)

Happy Mother’s Day to all the girls out there who have sacrificed their lives, bodies and heart for their children. Yeah, yeah, yeah, I know it was all worth it but I wouldn’t have minded not losing my twenty-something body. Yes, I am blaming my four for that!

It is Mother’s Day. I can do that just today!!!

All me….


I am a writer. Yep, I said it. I am taking charge of it, owning it. I am a writer!

I don’t know if anyone wants to be a reader but I still will write. I have another blog also. I wanted to branch out a bit to let my freak out flag fly.

I used to believe all the press that was out there about being a mom … blah, blah, blah! Come visit me in the trenches and I will show you my heart cut open in a gazillion pieces. That is what being a mom is all about!

Of course it has its good days. Someone tell me when they will be. Okay, I know I am sounding pretty down in the dumps about it. Some days yes and some days no. It is what it is. About ME.

I am old and getting gray and overweight and unemployed and still I see hope. Go figure that! I am creative but only selectively, when I get in the mood and all the conditions are right, stars aligned etc, etc. I have a very southern accent, which even my southern kids get frustrated with. Oh well, I would be a failure if they thought I was cool I guess.

I am the wife of one husband and he is my best friend in this world even though I am sure he would question if I even like him most days … more on that later. I am a good friend in a world of friendlessness. It is hard on these mean streets to find a good friend. More on that later too!

I like to paint and read and make collages and doodle and sew all of which I do not do enough. Writing has captured my mind these days.

Ahhhh Grace!

 

HERO


TUESDAY, NOVEMBER 1, 2011
HERO
How do you measure the life of a man?

Is it by the great wealth that he managed to accumulate or the land or homes or vehicles?

Is it by his position in business or his standing in the community?

The only way any man can be measured is by the fruit of his labor, the life he has lived on this earth and the lives that were changed by his love and the only real definition of success is how he was loved. This world is filled with complaints and negative thoughts that ride on the back of negative people. You can’t throw a rock without hitting someone who is complaining about something, no matter how trivial, we continue to be bothered and letting anyone who may be in our path know of our great plight in life.

I must admit I am the first whiner that I can think of. Honestly, I get sick of my own self, some days. I spend precious moments attempting to figure out why the world seems to pick on little old me! Good grief! Get over it! Come to find out, as I have grown very much older and wiser (well, the jury is still out on that one) It’s not all about me….as hard to believe as that is, I am not the center of the universe. How’d that happen? I never got the memo….was there a meeting, was there a quorum?

Did we vote? Yep they voted and I lost…..shocking how that happens.

Well actually not so much, I humbly say I have always known it wasn’t all about me. I am thankful I wasn’t given that burden to carry by my parents. But I know now that it is all about one person, that was on this earth for only thirty three short years, who gave it all so that we might have life everlasting and I have watched that same sacrifice and humility play out in the life of a man who without any fan fair or parade, lived everyday like it was his last. I have never known anyone that lived so completely complain free, even when he struggled for every breath in his last days on this earth. He would always have a smile and a kind word for anyone he met. He encouraged every person he knew and on those few occasions when I dared to be a complainer in front of him, he would say…..”ahh Rosa (he called me that from the first time I met him!)the Lord will help you, just stay close to him. Augh!

Why did he always have to hit me with that one, seriously!! does it always go back to that? can I not have five minutes of feeling sorry for myself. Does he even remember that I am married to his son and gave him four( I outta get the prize) grandkids and am a preachers wife and and…and….NOPE!

Stopped in my tracks with the harsh reality of Jesus suffering an awful punishment just so I can stand here and whine about, in my overly dramatic fashion, my bad day. This man who never complains about anything…ever… stands there and basically strips me down to myself and reminds me …it’s not the end of the world.

This guy I speak of is probably the sweetest and kindest gentleman anyone who reads this would ever know. Thirty years ago, I met a boy who had a father who from the first time I met him, made me one of his own. Without any question or judgement or hesitation, he welcomed me into his family and gave me a name. I was a part of him and not one time did I ever NOT feel accepted by him. I was never an “in-law”, I was a daughter and isn’t that just like Jesus.

This man is Curtis Fritts and he breathed his last breath holding the hand of his beloved wife and his one and only grand daughter, Bethany….his son and my only precious daughter. I know she will never forget the honor of being there with him, she saw the best man in this world enter into his reward for a life lived fully and without any reservation for where he was going.

As he took that last breath, he left behind all the pain of this world….not that we ever heard him complain about it!

Thank you Dad for loving us all. There is your measuring stick…..they will know HIM by our great love. Amen!
Posted by Rosemary Mcknight Fritts at 2:38 AM

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