Sunday Morning Coffee Musing: Throw “That” Back

46a03796b38170db0e86f4e94c71a502

What a week! Drama and Resolutions. Busy Mom, Sister, Daughter, and Auntie (which I always enjoy family), working on a project and just well, life. By the time Friday evening arrived I was exhausted and my legs (fibromyalgia) were giving me pure hell up until this morning. I finally have relief. This morning’s coffee musing is all about “throwing that back” and I don’t mean from the world of rap and hip hop where you shake your butt!

If something is not what you want or desire in your head, heart, and life then “throw that back.” If you are fishing and you pull up a shoe, I am sure you would either throw that back or recycle it. But trust me, the drama, the lies, the games, the people that want to stay sleep walking through life,  does not need to be recycled. Just throw all of that back. Back to the pits of hell or wherever it came from. If it arrives at your door unannounced then throw it back out. In fact, refuse to let it in. Once you realize that it is negative, a time waster, hurtful, then you need to get rid of it or neatly file it away under “not my problem.” We waste time on issues that people don’t want to resolve. We waste time on drama where people clearly enjoy drama and I say leave them to their drama and destruction and just be there to help pick up the pieces. You can not, CAN NOT,  help people that are:

1. Not telling you the whole truth and nothing but the truth

2. Love a life filled with hellishness

3. Don’t even know or care they have a problem

4. Just want attention

5. Don’t heed the advice give you

6. Have issues beyond your expertise

7. Liars and manipulators

8. Not ready for change

Now, if you find yourself getting into a funk about people and things out of your control(like I did this week), and it bothers your thoughts, throw all of that back. In my mind I picked up all the bull—- they brought or I went and got and put it back on their porch.

“Here ya go. Sorry I picked up this “crap.” I thought you needed help disposing of it but, I can clearly see this has turned into a crap slinging fest and it’s really messy. I don’t like messy.” -Nikki

 

 

Advertisements

Parenting Confetti: Today She Turns 17

LK_number_17_color_purple

Today my daughter turns 17. 17! I remember the day and the days ahead were filled with concern as to how I would survive this world with a child and as a single parent. I look at her and think, “Wow. You’re actually okay. I am doing pretty good as a parent. Somehow. It’s a miracle!” Somehow by the grace of God, the foundation of firm principles laid by my parents, wisdom I ask for almost daily, and through trial, error, and experience she’s a pretty good young lady. There is no perfect parenting because there is no perfect parent. However, I try to make sure I am doing the best I can.

I take an active approach to improving not only myself as a person but, myself as a parent. Am I being the best parent I can be? What can I learn to help me? What can do differently? Did I say I was sorry? Did I say I was wrong? I read. I pray about it, too and ask for guidance. I approach every year by trying to remember what it was like to be 17. I read any article about being 17. I stay up on trends and current issues. I like to be “in the know” about what she knows. And I do my best to guide this leg of her journey. However, I have started to prepare myself for letting go and being more of the guide and not the driver. I think I may have started her first year in high school more so than middle school. (It’s never going to be easy no matter how much you prepare! And you’re never going to really let go!)

Some parents seem to believe that when their children turn 18 they are an adult and you let them go. You turn them loose. You let them do whatever they want to do.  You are done. I beg to differ. They need you all the more in their young adulthood but, in a different capacity. Whether they listen or not, is totally up to them. Hopefully, we have established a good enough relationship, and I believe we have, that we can at least have the conversations needed in certain times. She’s pretty honest about how she feels. I asked her how does she feel being 17. Nervous? Getting close to being independent? She said yes. I told her she will be fine. I would be there to help. To push. To prod. To fuss. 🙂 To teach. To learn with her. Things have changed. We have to adjust as parents and we have to know when to hold to certain principles, values, and morals. I am thinking person. Analytical, logical, and emotional. (Ha!). And because we have to do so much as a parent other than clothe, feed, and shelter, this is why it’s impossible to get everything right.

Cheers to 17! Here are a few articles I have read

https://www.psychologytoday.com/blog/parenting-without-power-struggles/201211/my-17-year-old-daughter-is-drifting-away

https://www.verywellfamily.com/your-complete-guide-to-parenting-a-17-year-old-2608693

https://www.verywellfamily.com/behavior-and-daily-routines-17-year-old-teen-2608692

 

~Nikki

 

Sunday Morning Coffee Musing: Not My Problem, Not My Relationship, Not My Marriage

519b1a92d121c1e8d6d681aed03d9c2f

However we end up intertwined with other people’s problems, our adult children, friends, family, parents or coworkers, at some point, when it’s an ongoing problem they refuse to fix, we have to bow out. The bow out may not be gracefully. It may be a barging out, a tip toeing out, or a slow walk backwards in order to preserve our sanity, our own happiness, and to enjoy the rest of the life we have on this earth.

~Nikki

 

RE-Blog: A Great Blog Post for Married Couples and Singles

My wife is one of the best people I know. And hot. Still, marriage is one of the hardest things I’ve ever attempted. It’s that way for everyone. I’ve never met anyone who’s been married longer than 10 years who hasn’t considered divorce at some point. There were a few times in the early years […]

via What Almost 20 Years of Marriage Finally Taught Me About the Worst Parts of Marriage — Peace Hacks

Sunday Morning Coffee Musing:Unnecessary Guilt

20170727_085042

Let me dive into a personal truth about myself. For years I use to struggle on the inside with feeling guilty about speaking out when someone has wronged me or has disrespected me. I was a sensitive child and I am PROUDLY a moderately sensitive adult. Being sensitive to the feelings of others and issues makes me the compassionate woman I am.

However, from time to time when I KNOW I am right about standing up and speaking up for myself, or letting a person know how far they can go or where to get off (lol), I still struggle with a tinge of guilt when CLEARLY I am in the right. I don’t allow people to hurt my feelings without them knowing how I feel about it or if they have disrespected me I tell them. How else when they know? Grow?

If you struggle with the guilt of hurting others feelings or with expressing yourself, then it stems from somewhere. Sensitive to others or you’ve had your voice dismissed in the past when you were unable to feel OKAY about BEING RIGHT. I think mines came from my childhood. In various ways, I was shut down negatively when I was right because well, I was a child. And authority ruled. It was the law of the land. Also, in a more positive way, my siblings and I were very respectful of each other and rarely argued or fought once we grew up. We all have had to apologize to each other as adults but, rarely. Yes, we taught to apologize when we were children as well. We were taught that way. However, parents rarely admit or apologize for being wrong. Thankfully, my parents grew spiritually and as we got older they have apologized for doing things the way they were did or things from the present.

I just want to say, stand in your truth. Stand in your right. Stand and have a voice. Help people to grow and to know where the line is on how you will treated and respected. Even it hurts them, they will grow and know. No guilt for speaking the truth and your feelings.

~Nikki

Baileys Original Irish Cream is in my Folgers. ❤

Sunday Morning Coffee Musing: The Good Daughter

20171022_093908 (1)

Growing up both of my parents were pretty healthy parents. I remember an occasional flu or a minor surgery. I can’t say I know what it is like to have to “deal” with an ill parent at a young age. I don’t know for sure how much it affects the child later on in life but, I am certain it makes a world of difference what the illness is and how the parent themselves handles the illness or disease. If the parent is any parent at all, they naturally carry a bit of guilt for being sick.

My daughter is 16 and it was seven years ago when Rheumatoid Arthritis Disease came out of remission and imploded into our lives. She was 9. I pushed on five years after that working, being a mom (because well you can’t stop doing that) and my daughter has always been the most caring and concerned child through this ordeal. And I have tried my best to make sure the unpredictability of RA doesn’t take a toll on her childhood as much as it takes a toll on my body and life.

When RA first resurfaced, we didn’t know what it was. I remember waking up one morning with the Holy Telit across the foot of my bed laid there by my daughter. I remember when I had to have surgery twice, she was ready to do her part. Through my crappy attitude at times and unbearable mood swings, she has learned to either let me know or just stay out the way. I have often, come back to apologize and try to make sure it doesn’t happen too often because I don’t believe you can use your pain as an excuse to be mean to others! But, it does happen unintentionally sometimes. You have to be the type of person that is reflective of self and responsible for your behavior. That takes deep commitment to being the best you, you can be and a whole lot of Jesus, God, Holy Spirit, Creator, etc in my case.

Yesterday, she took care of her mother. It was almost like she was prepared because she knew I had a class where I would have to use my hands and sit for some time. I didn’t ask her to do anything. She just stepped right in. I have to say, I have been blessed with a good daughter. I hope I am being the good mom. I hope I have been the good mom before RA came into our lives.

~Nikki

Adults Who’ve Survived the Critic Parent

02c48c47679a31f7e5c532fbf509d7a8
The artist name appears on the photo. 

Some of us grew up in loving and caring environments and some of us did not. Some of us grew up in loving and caring environments that were flawed on some level. Sometimes deeply flawed or sometimes tumultuous depending on the problems the parent or parents had. It could have been an ill parent, an unfaithful parent, it could have been arguing all the time, or the parent could be one that came and went. Today I want to speak to those that grew up with the Critic Parent. The one that ALWAYS had something negative to say or critiqued everything you did or every choice you made.

I grew up with one. Every choice you made, there was a better one. When you did your chores, there was always something you could have did better or forgot. When you did things to try to impress that parent, they were not all that impressed. Each time you did your hair or got dressed, they would frown up at your attire or choice and I am not talking about the typical parent-child disagreement about clothes and hair. This is beyond that. This is a tear down of the child. A ripping of their power to make choices and to feel good about their choices and themselves. All of this is about that and the child needing to be supported, guided, and free to be an individual. I felt singled out from all of my siblings. The boys in the family didn’t have this problem, but the only sister I had said she would experience it from time to time, but as soon as she was able to she left the house.

The constant stares, criticism, correction, and questioning of everything I did, said, or chose literally destroyed my self esteem. I was already an outsider with my red hair as an African American child, my brainy self, my extreme shyness, and artys personality. I wasn’t accepted in many circles and to be home and not accepted was traumatic to my sensitive soul. Did you know, that those who are artists and creative types have a spectrum on the emotional scale as more sensitive than normal and that can swing to more depressed than normal? I had no idea until I started seeing a psychologist. My mother always said “If you just look at me, I would start crying.” I wonder if she created that insecurity within me or fostered it. I don’t know.

I second guess everything I did, said, and every choice I made as a young adult. It caused me to be paralyzed with fear. I had no confidence. If this is normal mines was twice as bad. Even after choices were made I worried that I was wrong, I didn’t know what I was doing, there you go again…not getting it right. I was surprised when things worked out. An even then, I was not sure that things would be okay.

Many things contributed to my bouts of depression and need to want to escape this world by suicide. I know this was one of them. I equated a wrong choice in anything I did as a reflection of how I could never and would never get it right. Even the simplest things. I was beyond self conscious and not just in the way I look, but in the work I did. Even now I have to say “Hey, it’s good enough. You did your best.” I also had to learn to not do what was did to me to others and when I had my daughter, I vowed to not utilize that aspect of my parent. I did take all of the good from that parent, which was a lot, and use it.

I believe there are many reasons a parent does this. I think we expect parents to be perfect or to know better, but the truth is they are not perfect and they do not know “how to” always do better. Hurting people hurt other people. When we are children we don’t know or think about the fact our parents have lived some type of life before us and has experienced some type of childhood…both of these things either good, bad, or traumatic. These things have an effect on the parent as a child, as an adult, and as your parent. Many hurt parents have know idea of the psychological effects of their behavior on their children and we grow up to think many of the things we experienced were normal and acceptable until we meet other children and other adults. If you can’t recognize the signs of your behavior as detrimental to the shaping of the child, then you as the parent continue to do what you do. The generation before me were not privy to psychology or child psychology. They were too busy trying to make a living. The way they dealt with things were to not talk about them. But, guess what? Buried feelings and events of our lives are still alive if they are not dead. However, we as the children who grew up in some sort of tainted or warped environment, now have the privilege of that knowledge that we may be better parents and better human beings. We also have the work of healing ourselves from these scars.

I am now realizing that I survived by learning through trial and error, my commitment to not repeat those mistakes by taking different actions, some education about parenting, my relationship with God, the wisdom of the Spirit, other wise souls, and yes, therapy. I survived by accepting the relationship I have with that parent, sometimes calling them on their behavior and holding them accountable, and other times letting it go. I survived by releasing my anger and hurt. I survived with knowledge of the effects of trauma on people who never admit or talk about what’s really going on, but instead choose to respond with some outward action or to remain silent and bottled up.

However, for this leg of my journey at 42, I am here to be liberated this year and to be legendary in my doings. I need to THRIVE and not just survive. I thrive by forgiving and by forgiving I am free (liberated). I thrive by realizing that parent may never seek counseling, deliverance, or healing, but my choice to not feed into it or to have some compassion for the hurt child inside that parent, is liberating my emotions to choose happiness even if they are miserable. And all of that is a legendary step for my soul’s journey.

~Nikki