The Choice to Grow

Heartbreak is a terrible thing, but it is also inevitable for the most part.

The great thing about life is the fact that we have the choice to grow from our experiences or not. I have been at points in my life where I felt as if I wanted to dig myself into a pit and never come back up for air. Okay, thankfully I didn't do that, but sometimes the hurt is so bad that you want it to just go away!

I'm unsure of the exact moment when I realized I was going to be just fine, but the moment came nonetheless.

I am finally truly starting to feel at peace with my past choices, and myself in general. I am feeling again. I guess that is the best way to put it. Don't get me wrong; it isn't like I've been going through life in an emo-induced cloud, but I have had some bitter feelings.

"There is no one out there for me, or I will never love again" has rolled off of my lips many times. Did I ever truly want to believe that? Of course not. What I did learn however was that I needed to take a good look at myself. I know it sounds cliche', but if you don't love yourself, then how can you expect anyone else to love you in return?

We are all just human, and want to be loved for the most part and we need to start with ourselves.

I am happy with the realization that life goes on. It really does, and that is a wonderful thing, hiccups and all.

Perspective

When one reads about atrocities that can barely be fathomed by the human mind, it tends to put things in perspective.

Whether it is the tragic Haiti earthquake, or the constant mistreatment of women worldwide, my life is pretty damn good from where I stand.

Ever since I began reading "Half the Sky" by Nicholas D. Kristof, I have found my thought process changing yet again as a woman, single mother, and an American.

I have been trying for some time now to get back to this thankful thought process, and I don't know what in the world was wrong with me.

Americans as a whole have so much to be thankful for. Some say our system is corrupt. Really? Although our system is not perfect, it never will be because it is run by human beings, but so far we have managed for the most part to maintain a certain amount of decorum and healthiness.

We feed those in need via our welfare program although we have a terrible homeless situation. We don't however publicly rape our women just to make a political statement of hate. I'm talking about women and girls who are sometimes ages three and up according to "Half the Sky," and that isn't even the worst of it.

I'm guilty of whining about "stress" as much as any of us. I'm not even saying I will never whine about insignificant things again. I am however, thankful that I'm allowed to express how I feel and have the chance to get an education.

So what if the "love of my life" doesn't pan out? So what if I have to "struggle" to make ends meet? Seriously, there are so many people in this world who will never have any option of surviving or having any good quality of life.

Instead of writing about it, perhaps I will one day be in a real position to make a difference.

And I'm Off...

Today was the start of the spring semester, and I am taking seventeen hours of classes. Basically, I will have no life for the next few months.

This is great though because I won't have time to worry about needless things. Okay, perhaps some of my worries aren't so needless, but if focus wasn't my forte last semester, I have no choice but to make it so this time around.

I have been nervous about the start of this semester as I know that I have Algebra again, and this time I have it everyday at 8 a.m.

Today went really well though. I'm excited about the journey of getting through this and finally graduating with my associate degree. God knows I need to accomplish something to set the stage for my future endeavors.

My saving grace this semester is going to be Zumba! Yes, I had to fill in a one hour credit, so of course I'm taking an aerobic dance class. Zumba is a cross between salsa/latin and hip-hop. At least that is how I explain it. Believe me, those endorphins are going to help me tremendously two days a week.

I am pumped!

Hot Shoes?

Since it is still technically the holiday break, I gave in and let my daughter Scarlett sleep in my bed last night.

We were laying in the bed, and I decided to read the Sumner Parent which is the exact same as the Nashville Parent, but with a different county on the cover.

Scarlett decided she wanted to read it and I tried to give her the copy of "O" the Oprah Magazine since I've already read through it. I showed her the perfume samples she could smell and the pretty purses and shoes.

I start reading an article in Sumner Parent, and she says that she wants that one. "I say, here smell the nice perfume sweetie so mommy can finish." The following dialog is what commenced the next few minutes.

Scarlett: No mommy, it makes me have hot shoes.

Me: Hot shoes?

Scarlett: No! hotshoes!

I'm still not following. Then my mommy brain rewinds rather quickly and for some odd reason remembers watching "Snow White" with her a few days ago. The dwarf Sneezy sneezes when he smells the flowers. Scarlett said, "Those are hotshoe flowers right?" I thought I had corrected her and said that he sneezed and went, "Achoo!" Oh well.

By now I realize what she is trying to say. I say, "Oh, achoo!" She happily nods and says, "Yeah mommy, hotshoes!" "In that case, I'll see if there is an article I haven't read then baby," I tell her. We trade magazines and everyone is happy.

I can't have my four year old coming down with a cruel case of the hotshoes.

As long as she and I are on the same page I can live with her not really knowing what hot shoes are yet! Let's stick with sneakers, Mary Janes and sandals.

Catching Santa

I always enjoy Christmas Eve night and the time leading up to Christmas.

Even though I know that I put out the Santa gifts after the children are nestled in their beds, it is still a really magical moment. I can almost hear noises outside that I swear sound like hooves.

Call me crazy but I still sometimes hope that there will be something for me from Santa on Christmas morning.

This is the one time of year where it is looked upon by most as okay to have that childlike innocence and belief in magic. Okay, well if it isn't who cares anyway. I still have it!

After waiting about forty five minutes after the kiddos went to sleep I start putting up Scarlett's doll house that Santa brought for her.

I had put it together a couple of hours before at my ex's house before he got home from work; with his permission of course. This is another positive of having separate houses.

The kiddos have two bedrooms upstairs and can overlook the living room area if they are in the hallway outside of their rooms. I nearly jump out of my skin as I hear, "Caught ya Santa!!" I scream a little and look up to find Logan looking down with a smirk on his face. His brother Che` says from the bedroom, "Logan you're stupid. Get back to bed." Che` knows that you can't spy if you are getting any presents, although he shouldn't call his brother stupid.

Obviously the boys don't believe wholeheartedly anymore as they are ages thirteen and ten, but there is always that doubt that Santa could be real. I've never come out and told them. When they asked, I told them that they can believe in whatever they want. That seemed harmless enough.

I still have a few more years with Scarlett as she is only four, and I will keep the magic going for as long as possible.

I hope that everyone had a very Merry Christmas/Happy Holiday.

Extremist Perspectives

There was a situation at work today that got my brain ticking again and back to a place where I used to be when I was extremely active in my church a few years ago.

I would like to find that middle ground. The middle ground for me would be not preaching to people, but not going to the opposite end of the spectrum either. I have been told by friends that I am an extremist meaning it is either one way or the other.

I had never really thought about it before until it was brought up to me. Looking at the past few years when I was very active in church however, and then my life for the past two years, I can see how that has been true.

We had only been open for about thirty minutes, and I was at the front door with a few of the other waitresses waiting to greet and seat people in our sections.

I didn't have anyone sitting at my tables yet so this man walks through the door and I ask if it is just him. He says he just wants to tell us something. He walks up to those of us standing at the door, and says, "There will be trumpets."

I don't remember word for word, so ethically I don't want to misquote him. He says that God will be coming again, and spoke of Jesus for a bit. I look around at the other girls and they are completely looking at him like he is insane and I can sense they are uncomfortable. Me, on the other hand, just look at him and smile.

After a few minutes of this one of the girls said, "Okay thank you!" I said, "Merry Christmas!" He looked at the other girls and said something along the lines of you will need more than a pretty face when he comes again. He looked at the girl who spoke to him and said, "If you want me to go away you must not be ready." He left after that.

The girls were saying, "What was that?" They thought he was crazy, and a few were a bit freaked out.

I wasn't freaked out. My reasoning is this. In my opinion he actually spoke the truth, he just went about it in an overly zealous way. Okay, an extremely overly zealous way.

Was he a prophet speaking the word of God? Probably not, but as long as he isn't hurting anyone, I'm okay with that. On the other hand, if he was a prophet, I wasn't rude and I let him speak his piece. You never know!

Perhaps he will be able to achieve his goals of spreading the word of the second coming with a little less zeal one day, and maybe more people will welcome that information.

As for me and my family, my children deserve to have that middle ground balance, and that is always a work in progress. I'm speaking from a recuperating extremist perspective of course. I am getting there though.

May everyone else find the balance that suits them and their own paths.

Failure Lined In Silver

The semester has come to a close, and I have to say I'm not thrilled with how things turned out. I needed a 75% to pass Elementary Algebra, and I ended up getting a 70.4. To those of you who were in my corner, believe me I'm so disappointed in myself.

Keep in mind this came up from a 62% in about three to four weeks. I now know the secret to my success and it involves being in the math lab every day.

This was my first attempt at school as a single parent, and it is a completely different ball game.

Working two jobs, studying, and trying to keep my children in good shape, was a bit harder than my brain wanted to comprehend.

To be fully accountable, I must say that I could have done things a bit differently to do better. Had I gone to the math lab earlier in the semester, and rearranged some things I would have been ahead. I had previously had a bad experience in the math lab so I wasn't sure it would help.

My boss in the PR office urged me to try again, and even told me he wanted a blog about it. Now I had no choice but to go. This was the best thing for me.

There is a silver lining in all of this though. My math professor got me into a class that is both Elementary and Intermediate Algebra condensed into one semester so that I can still be on target to graduate.

The downside of this is that now I am taking seventeen hours of classes! I am going to be living at Vol State. Since I have no choice but to quit my waitress job with the slight possibility of working one day a month, I will max out my hours in the PR office working on Vol State's blog.

I am now more determined than ever to succeed, even if it kills me! Whew! It may just do that, but I will die trying! :-)