Mi manche Roma!!

. . . . . . some days are just better than others . . . . . . . .

Grits

Of the 44 years I have graced this planet, 32 have been in South Carolina . . . 1 in Miami, 3 in New Jersey, 2 in Colorado and 6 in Ohio. I live in Mount Pleasant, SC - East of the Cooper (pronounced kup-er) of Charleston. In all fairness, I consider myself a southerner even though my parents are from the midwest. I am by no means a Charlestonian, even though I have lived here 20 years. To be a Charlestonian, by Charleston standards, you have to be at least a 3rd generation local. Here's hoping my great-grands might fit the requirement.

I am southerner and I can cook . . . it is my belief anyone who can read can cook . . . child, anyone who likes food can learn how to cook. I know how to follow a recipe and I can wing it when required. I love food and enjoy cooking and eating. But I do declare, when it comes to cookin' 'em grits . . .the good Lawd done shine his glory on me an give me a gift!!!!

Grits are coarsley ground corn and are most commonly eaten in the south for breakfast . . . but not in my house. Ain't nobody tasted a grit until they tasted mine . . .and I don't wanna hear nothing 'bout not likin' grits until you tasted grits I prepare for you. Now, I give credit when credit when credit is due . . . I use a good stone ground grit . . not them instant packets. And truth be told they got even better since I got that fresh butter from TA . . . but that aside - my grits are so creamy and wonderful they make ya slap yur moma (not that she'd care, mind you 'cuz she's so busy eatin' hers)! The key to grits - patience and a little lovin'.

Grits ain't a fast food nor is it an instant dish. Grits is something to be tended to and loved on. And when eatin' its a dish you savor - and take your time with for as simple as it is, it's distinctive and complex given the dish. Why people thinkin' they need to only have grits at breakfast is beyond me when it is the perfect accompaniment to so many dishes. Not to mention all you can do with a grit along the lines of different flavorins and toppins . . . grits is versitile!

Now, I ain't here to give out none of my secrets nor am I gonna promise any tips. What I do know is grits is good food and I am mighty proud to say I can cook 'em like none other I ever tasted before. And I am mighty proud to hear the good word that is put out about my grits - so much so I thought I'd share. And hopefully spark a bit of that southerner in y'all. Serve ya up some grits and see if it don't conjure up some thoughts of screen doors, porches, a tall tale, a magnolia tree and sweet tea . . . . .

Birthday!!!

I do not understand people who dread their birthday's . . . what is wrong with you people? Aging? What is so bad about aging? I mean yes, things may not be as tight as they once were but who in their right mind would actually go backwards? There are times and days from the past I'd like to capture but I wouldn't trade the wisdom, and all that goes along with it, that age has given me for a line-less face. Let's be honest, botox could do that. I happen to be a BIG birthday fan . . . I may have my issues with Mother's Day - but I like a birthday!! What's not to like about a birthday?? I mean it's your day . . . you are special . . . it's a day you get to have favorites like your favorite meal - it's a day of presents and attention and niceness and most importantly . . . dessert - cake, pie, whatever . . . and a candle that you get to make a wish on - once a year - and hopefully that wish will come true. How can someone not enjoy a birthday? Today is my birthday. I am 44 years of age (holy crap). I intend to wear a smile all day. I will treat myself to something a lunch (just not sure what that is yet). I will have a fabulous dinner tonight prepared by my friend Erin, my 2 children and my soul mate Buoy will be with me. We will have rum cake cake for dessert, I will get sung to and I will make a special wish . . . . wouldn't you like to know!?!?!?

Relaxing

What I do know is we all need to relax more. Lives are so busy and so chaotic that relaxing is often hard to do - even when you are trying to do so. I have something that may help . . . get yourself one of these funny looking reclining chairs (preferably in red), sit or rather, lie in your backyard, have a margarita close by along with some cheese and just listen to the sounds . . . . ok maybe the Skinny Girl margarita helped but, it's been quite some time since I could just kick back and sit - still - and be - for over an hour. I'm thinking the chair was a big part of this - what a great Mother's Day gift!

Mother's Day

I never know how to take Mother's Day. It's bothered me since I was a little girl - and why shouldn't it . . . Mother's Day. Whose mother, what mother, and why does this day oftentimes share my birthday????

Something you should know about me . . .I am a mother, I am a daughter, I am a birth-child and I am a step daughter. Confused? Welcome to my world. I was born on Mother's Day back in 1967. I was born to a woman who, at my birth, gave me up for adoption. I went to live in a foster home until I was close to 6 months of age. I was then adopted by a family . . .a husband and wife with a 3 year old son who wanted another child . . . a girl. Children's Home Society fulfilled their order, I mean wish. I lived with this family for 14 years. With the father who wanted to do better by his family than what he had so he worked and drank himself harder than he needed. With the mother, whose only hope of escaping the abuse she suffered at home was to marry and have her own family. Even though this family was never what she wanted or who she wanted to be with and therefore her attention, or lack there of towards this family left each wanting so much more than they ever received or she could ever give. Eventually, as would be foreseen, the family divorced and the father and mother found new spouses. I therefore was now a step-child to my now step-mom. While not in control of any 1 of these 4 circumstances there is still a pattern. I, from birth, was brought into a situation where I was not wanted or planned by the woman that were to mother me.

I was born on Mother's Day . . . I have to share my day with my mom . . . which mom and for that matter, what mom?

We are told, or as an adopted child, you are told a mother is not a woman who gives birth to you. A mother is a woman, or a man for that matter, who loves you - who is there for you. A mother holds your head and your hair (Christine) while you puke your guts out. A mother condemns activities that she fears will sway you (Tracey) from your true potential (even if she doesn't know what in the hell she is talking about). A mother - mothers. I left my mother when I was 15 because she didn't give one hoot about what I did or who I did it with and I went to live 500 miles away with a father I barely knew and a step-mother I didn't know at all (keep in mind this is and was the best thing I ever did in my life - I knew I would amount to nothing staying with my "mom"). This was a horrible combination . . .teenager with attitude and parents that wanted to parent a teenager who had never been parented. Teenager won . . . but had enough sense to keep it in check and eventually, not long after those teenage years were behind her, she, I, realized that step-mom was the first "mom" she, I, ever had.

I don't think it takes very long after high school to gain an appreciation for mom. In my case that was my step-mom and as for my "mom" the resentment started to then fester and as for my birth-mother, well, how would I know unless I found her. Which I did for my 25th birthday and that my readers is a story for another time.

So, Mother's Day . . . I was born on Mother's Day and then I became a mother.

So now what . . .how do I reconcile Mother's Day with mothering, with becoming a mother with my birthday? Well, it doesn't belong to me . . . it belongs to Mother's . . . to Mom's and I don't know how to reconcile that. I can't reconcile it. On the years it falls on my birthday - it's my birthday, nothing more, nothing less. On years it's the second Sunday of May it's a day that makes me feel sad that I cannot share it with my birth-mother (eventual BM story), it's a day that makes me feel angry for being unable to even speak to my mother (another story), a day that makes me feel guilty for not being able to fully embrace my step-mother as my mother and a day that makes me feel incredibly awkward because I have 2 children who want to celebrate me as their mother and all I want is to be left alone.

I was born on Mother's Day . . . how can I be a Mother?

But I am, and have been for 17 years, and each year I have no idea how to accept the day. I feel ashamed, I feel it isn't about me I feel - I want to be left alone. But I realized, or at least I recognize, it is a day that is important to my children and I have to go along with it. At times this has made them feel I didn't care when in fact I didn't know how to accept that I am a mom. How do you explain that? And for that matter, while divorced from my children's father and while making mistakes, I have been their mom. THEIR MOM - a mother they could count on good or bad, a mother that never left them, that always wanted them . . . a mother they could count on. This is something I never had.

I am a mother and I was born on Mother's Day.

And on the flip side . . . what have my 2 children, my son, my daughter given to me? They have given me love . . .unconditional love. They have stuck with me when I was less than a mother and have accepted the over bearing mother. They, my children, tell me they love me, tell me I am pretty, thank me for being their mom on a daily basis. I just may, just may be one of the luckiest mothers ever. I refuse to believe it's anything I did, I have nothing to base it on. I fully credit them for being individuals anyone would be proud to claim or know.

I was born on Mother's Day.

And what I don't know is how I got so lucky to have the children I have. What I do know is that because of my kids I am thankful that Mother's Day isn't necessary given my confusion regarding this day. My kids allow everyday to be Mother's Day and for that I am more grateful than words can ever express. I love you Xan and Audrey more than you will ever know.

Footnote: Happy Mother's Day to all the Mother's I love and respect - TA, Christine, Lora, Bethany, Kim, Erin, Lynn . . . but most importantly, Nita.

Circle of Life

Over the weekend my parents, that is my father and my step-mother, came to visit me. Now their visits are always welcomed and very enjoyable . . . how can they not be? As my brother said they are like the Navy Seals - they are in, they are out. No time to feel as if the visit is a bother since the moment they arrive, the departure is eminent. I had thought this was mostly my father but I realize it is both of them. Being they are not ones for any great adventure, travel is not a priority. Their visits are often a tease - just enough to make you realize how much they are missed and enjoyed and them BAM - they are gone again.

Having parents live away causes visits to sometimes be a little difficult because the aging is more noticed - an added wrinkle, a limp, a slower gait and the worse . . . . the fact their foot plays a tapping game with the brake when driving a car. You know what I mean - the overly cautious jerks, the release of the brake, the hesitation of doing so, the release, the hesitation . . . and of course no one but your father can drive or is a capable driver so the time you spend in the car during the visit gives you whiplash and you are constantly having to reassure and remind him of what lane and that the turn is coming up yet if he would just let you drive - in the town you live in, all this could be avoided. UGH! And as frustrating as all this is it is sad because your daddy, your world, is now frail and nervous and that is not something that is suppose to happen.

On the flip side of this, you sit in the passenger's side of a car and your child is driving . . . too fast, too careless, not stopping and not in the least bit concerned of where they are going or what is going on around them. The complete opposite of the experience with your parents.

So to think of the extremes and then to be smack-dab in the middle and to realize your parents once sat in the passenger seat with you when you were learning to drive. Do you think that is why daddy wouldn't let me drive? Because while I see my daddy aging - and that is scary, he still sees me as that little girl? And what will happen with my kids - will they one day say the sign of the cross when getting in the car with me because I am too stubborn to let them drive?

As our time dwindles down, I often wonder where our lives will end up. I like that Audrey and Xan fight over who I will live with - who will take care of me. Makes me feel I did something right - not to mention I may need the space. I hope we are not far apart - I hope I don't arrive for a weekend visit and a fear comes over them because they notice me aging. I want to protect them from any worries . . . and show them, regardless of age I will still drive like Steve McQueen.

What I don't know is where we will be - I do know regardless of the location - we will never be apart.

Learning

You will note there has been quite a lag between this post and the previous. Who knows why that is . . . being busy, being lazy, being resistant - I mean really: All I don't know? Well, there you have it - a reason for the title . . . I don't know!

My last 2 post were about my children as this post will be as well. Know this about me . . . Do NOT mess with one of my kids - I don't play. There is the lioness in me that will fight to the end to protect - it's primal people, I can't control.

That being said, I was greatly disappointed today by my daughter's track coach. There was an opportunity for Audrey to learn a lesson, go through a difficult situation but still walk away being ok with her decision and how it took place. Instead a confrontation took place and some inappropriate things were said by the coach. Inappropriate enough that I have to get involved . . involved to the point I have to get the AD involved. Now I don't want this woman to suffer, but she needs to learn and she put herself into this situation . . . I just happen to be the one who is going to have to show her a different approach.

There are things about me that I am not proud of - things that I am ashamed of - things I just don't like about me. Because of this it makes no sense for me to reveal anything about myself because I may not live up to your expectations, much less my own. This situation is one that brings something about me to the forefront that can be an issue.

When I say I am protective of my children this is not something that is by any means new . . . but it is not something I have always acted on out of certain fears and that is something I am not proud of. Today's reaction from me regarding what took place was huge because I genuinely like this coach. I have invited her to my home, I have supported her over Audrey in other circumstances - she had my respect. Given she is a teacher - a coach, someone I respect I would not normally rock the boat - I would give her the benefit of the doubt.

When Audrey called me to let me know what had taken place, I asked her to repeat to me not once, but 3 times what took place so I was sure I understood and heard her correctly. I couldn't let this pass. This was not only inappropriate towards my child, this was a behavior that had to be called out so another child did not go through the same situation. In other words I was going to take a stand regardless.

That's right my friends . . . the girl you know to always take a stand - to speak out and be heard isn't always heard like you think she is. The one that you look up to, the one you have faith in often fails . . . and fails miserably. For someone who you know to put herself out there - out on the line, she has failed to do so at times that were critical and crucial and she let you and herself down.

It's been a learning lesson. In learning this, it's been a time to have regret and to suffer for it . . . but more importantly learn AND forgive and to try to not let it happen again. Thus today. Audrey may not understand why I went to the lengths I did and she might be mad, but it's important. It is important for her, for other students . . . but even more importantly - it was a huge step for me.

And that is a weakness I never wanted to admit to anyone - I have not stepped up - I have failed to be heard or let those who couldn't be heard be heard through me. But thanks to a friend of mine, a friend who has put herself out there in every way possible and who has learned to feel good about her, I am going to try and do the same.

So there you have it my friends, what I don't know is how to be completely forthright . . . but I am learning and will continue to do so. For sooooo many reasons, whether it be age or my trying to come to peace with the universe - I will learn to be completely forthright on my failures as well as my successes.

For your support I am thankful! And I am proud of myself for being honest.