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I Am My Mother’s Child

There is nothing that brings you to the reality of your life like a court ordered social study. If you read March 5, 2014 then you know that the ex husband decided to have me served. Somewhere along the way he decided he wanted 50/50 custody of the kids.

He remarried about three years ago. He moved into her house with her and her two children. No big deal right? Her house is 23 miles away from my house. The same house I intentionally selected because it was less than 7 miles from his door to my door. My goals in selecting a house were a good school district, a sense of community and not far from their dad. I never wanted him to feel like his children were to far away. But then he moved. Our youngest were attending a charter school that was in another city  about five miles from my house. I made the decision to move them to the zoned school in our district. He was not happy about my choice and he said I was moving them further from him so he hired an attorney and I was served.

Back to the social study. After several months of court dates, attorney’s fees and tension between us the judge ordered a social study as requested by the ex.

A social study is conducted by a social worker. They have you fill out pages and pages of documents listing everything that has happened in your life. It’s your autobiography. This document is scrutinized and judged by the social worker. They come to your house and interview everybody who lives there. They walk through your home taking notes on everything from the items on your refrigerator, safety of the neighborhood and overall opinion of your home. The social worker also interviews friend, doctors, teachers and family members.

The document… Geez… The document. It took me several days to fill out the document. For me, it was the equivalent of standing naked in front of strangers who had magnifying glasses and were intent on viewing every flaw. It was hard. As I said it was an autobiography of my life. The questions were invasive and at times difficult for me to answer. You see, I am like many of you, I have tucked the disappointments and heartaches of my childhood away in a place that I don’t like to visit. But here in this document I was asked about things I don’t like to discuss with close friends let alone a stranger.  But I answered honestly.

After a few weeks I received the results of the social study. This was the document she would present to the judge. The judge would use this document to assist with his final ruling. As I read her report I cried. I cried because here was a stranger summarizing my life in a 15-20 page document.

My life  started out as a potentially tragic story. I was born the youngest of three. My mother was about 21 when I was born and had birthed a total of three children in less than four years. She was the true definition of a single mom. My father was around but he wasn’t present. My mother worked very hard to provide for us but she wasn’t home with us. I was molested as a child. I started drinking as a teenager and drugs, although I did not partake, were readily available.

I continued to cry as I read the document. My ex husband’s life looks wonderful on paper. He grew up in a two parent household. He has one brother and they had a dog. His mom stayed home for the most part and his father was an engineer. He was raised in a Christian home. He and his new wife both had stellar up bringing. They are the ideal American family when you read about them. As I continued to read and cry, I was sure I had lost. How and why would anybody in their right mind select me over them? As I reached the last couple of pages I realized I had been holding my breathe. There were about ten numbered items. These were the things the judge wanted to know. This was her final assessment. This would affect the decision of the court

Why is this article titled as it is? Because after reading her summary of my life I went back and rewrote my life story. I needed to add in the side notes and I needed to understand my life from the view point of a young twenty something raising three kids on her own. I needed perspective. I needed to understand that the social worker’s summary was not the final say on my life. Through tears and fears I read my life story to three friends of mine. I felt the need to say the words out loud. In front of people who love me. We are often judged by our past. We judge others based upon their past. But I realized that I’m more than my childhood. Like my mother, I am an overcomer. Our stories don’t read the same but the common thread is do the best you can and overcome obstacles.

The social worker’s assessment was in my favor. My children are still with me the majority of the time and I changed their schools. I don’t hold a grudge with the ex.

Write your own story. Statistics and opinions do not have the final say. Write your own story and release  hope. I rewrote mine and am confidant when I say I’m an overcomer and my mother’s child.

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He Held Her Hand

Their first date found her falling asleep on his sofa as he held her hand while laying on the floor. 

Their last date, decades and a life time of experiences later, consisted of him holding her had as she took her last breath. 

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The Colors She Wore

She was beautiful from a distance
She was stunning up close
Her eyes told her story
Her words revealed her heart
She was like none other
She never unintentionally blended into a crowd
The colors she wore told her story outloud
Red made her feel powerful
It gave her life
It hid her pain
Red on her lips or that little red dress
Power and life were the crowns in that story
Blue was the color she wore to disappear
She blended into the sea of people
She faded into the backdrop of the sky
Blue meant she needed time to herself
Blue was reflection
Her color of undetection
Her wardrobe consisted of black as well
It wasn’t for the illusion of being thin
She wore it to be more corporate
She wore it to be received well
It was not her color for going out on the town
That was to common and if you know her, you know she’s not common
Beautiful combination that told her truth
She wore vibrant colors to express her mood
Green or coral, magenta or ecru
Browns made her feel earthy and real
One with nature and mankind
She felt like deep breathes and world peace
Green was her color to represent new and fresh
She channeled mother earth
Together they would give birth to ideas and philosophies
They would embrace the circle of life
Whatever the color she was talking to you
She was sharing her right now
Her inner thoughts and feelings
She was telling you her story by the colors she wore

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The Parting Gift

She tried. She gave it her best effort. If you know her or if you’ve heard of her then you know her best effort contained thought, action, love, maybe even a few tears and lot of her emotions as well as time. He tried. He gave her his time, shared his space, and fed her body and spirit. It just didn’t work out. That’s the thing about relationships sometimes they don’t work out. 

Where did things go wrong? They never went wrong. Things just never went completely right. They laughed, held hands, had inside jokes and shared special moments. She prayed for him. He encouraged her. All the stars seemed to have lined up. Maybe it was her insecurities or could it have been his inability to let go of the past? Perhaps she wanted more than he was willing to give. It could have been as simple as they both lost interest. Either way, whatever the reason it was over. Neither of them had verbalized their unwillingness to move forward. Their actions told the story. The time between phone calls and dates became fewer reminiscent of a couple who had been married for decades. Text messages were scattered throughout the week like the first fallen leaves in autumn.

He was kind enough to provide her with a parting gift. He did not refer to it as such but in her mind that’s what it was. For him it was a well thought out gift that she would enjoy for years to come. A gift that would bring a smile to her face and create gratitude to her heart. For her it was a parting gift which is never to be confused with a consolation prize. Neither of them were losers who needed consoling but winners who would separately celebrate the opportunity they had to get to know each other. One last hug. One last look into each other’s eyes. One last goodbye. No broken hearts. No tears to shed. No sad songs or movies. No dramatic ending. They were two people who shared a moment in time that they may or may not fully recall in a few years. 

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I’m Better Than That

This is Random Chic.

She may not have been born by the river but she’s cried a river of tears. 

She didn’t create laughter but she loves it like its her own. 

She did not give birth to love but she unconditionally loves the four she gave birth to.

She is who she is today but not who she was yesterday. 

(It’s not G like most of my postings. There is one word)

I hope you enjoy.

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Tales From a Real Life Drama

She felt somebody looking at her. She scanned the area to see who it was. Their eyes connected. She smiled. He looked at her with an intensity that made her blush. She blinked, breaking eye contact, and turned her head.

In a matter of seconds she had completed a full assessment of him. He was an inch or two taller than her. It was obvious he worked out. She could see the definition of his pectoral muscles through the shirt he was wearing. He was casual but fashionable.

He made his way over to her. Leaning in and whispering in her ear he introduced himself. He td her his name and said he was from Tennesse. She agreed to dance with him. He held her hand and looked into her eyes then led her to the dance floor.

He leaned in again attempting to create an illusion of intimacy in the midst of a crowded dance floor. “Where is your man? I am sure a beautiful woman like you is dating or married.” She responded, “where is your wife? I noticed your wedding ring earlier but I see you have taken it off.”

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Empowerment

Empowerment- to give power, authority; increasing the capacity to make choices and to transform those choices into desired actions

I left the house late. I decided to make a full breakfast for the kids before leaving at 5:30 am to head to the gym. I was running about 15 minutes behind but decided a 30 minute cardio workout would start my day off right. I pulled up to the gym and realized I did not have have my work clothes. I left them sitting on my bed. At this point it was 6:00 am. I had to make a quick decision to go home and change clothes and be late for work or go to the one store that I have sworn off because of their lack of customer service. I chose the latter. Traffic and construction make drive times unpredictable and I needed to meet a vendor between 7:30 and 8:00 am. I could not risk being late.

I headed over to that store. The one that I set a goal to not walk into this year. I have had so many bad experiences at Wal-Mart that I swore them off for good or so I had hoped. But sometimes life happens and you have to make decisions that you don’t prefer. I could go into the many reasons why I am determined to end my relationship with them but do you really want to hear about the Valentine’s day when I went into the store and requested to get some balloons blown up only for them to tell me the one person who knew how to use the helium tank would not arrive to work until after 9am? On Valentine’s day? I know you don’t want to hear about the time I was talking to a customer service rep on the phone. I was trying to clarify whether or not they would ship a gift to my nephew who was living in Guam at the time. I asked if they used USPS and she said no, we use the Unites States Post Office. I could also mention the rude employees but I won’t go into that right now.

I picked out two shirts and two pair of pants to try on. I walked over to the dressing room because I have to try on clothes. Everything does not fit me the same. When I arrived to the dressing room I see benches blocking the entry so I tell and employee I need a dressing room. She proceeds to tell me the dressing rooms are closed and do not open until 7 am. Well, that creates a real dilemma. I have to be at work by 7 am. I explain my predicament to this employee who reiterates, the rooms are closed until 7 am but I am more than welcome to wait (40 minutes). Now I am put out. This is why I promised myself that I would never come back to this store. The employees are not empowered to make good decisions that will allow them to make sound customer oriented choices. I request a manager. Seven minutes later, the store manager has not shown up so I ask if I can go to her. A young guy wearing a badge that says Customer Service Manager is walking past. I stepped in front of him, explained my situation and behold, he decided to help me by unlocking a door.

You see, every business has policies however, the policy should not hinder the employee from being empowered. Employees who are empowered to make some decisions are more content employees. They also provide better customer service. I am not sure why a 24/7 store closes their dressing rooms and drills into their employees heads the rooms are not available under any circumstance to a customer no matter how dire the need. It’s bad business. It’s questionable management and it leaves employees discontent in the long run when the policies take over and leave the employees fearful of consequences rather than customer focused.

Give me a break Wal-Mart. In the 30 minutes I was in your store I experience one very rude employee and three others who need to become empowered. The rude lady kept mumbling to no one in particular the dressing rooms don’t open until 7. I spoke to her directly at one point and said sometimes we make exceptions to provide a great customer service experience. The other three asked how they could help but at the point I was waiting on the no show manager.

After today, I am more determined than ever to not give them my money.