Good OL’ Life Test

I had an eventful and interesting Sunday. I was faced with a Test. This was no ordinary test!

There was no paper or pencils involved, just people!

There was no study guide to prepare me, just feelings!

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I don’t do well with surprise Test! & what I mean by that is I dont handle them well. I use the wrong emotions and actions when dealing with things I do not have the answers to or when dealing with things that are complex and requires strategy & procedure over a quick “yes” or “no”, “1,2,3” type of response. These Test make me nervous; I feel a lot of pressure when I am surprised by them! & then when my answers to the Test do not fit or work I become angry!

I do not see myself as an angry person, but over the years I found I hold a lot of anger. It would be easy to point the blame and say this and that caused me to be so angry, but that does me (or anyone else) no good & it is not 100% accurate! The fact of the matter is I have held onto anger & allowed myself to say “it is okay to be angry because someone hurt me or someone did me wrong”.  For years I made an excuse for myself to be angry & while I didn’t allow it to show on the outside it has slowly been eating away at me. & then when I have been faced with something I was not prepared for, I turned to the wrong emotions & reactions!

There is a point to this…haha..

I was faced with a Test yesterday; the test is similar in many ways to those I have faced before! I am not going to sit here and tell you everything changed, something clicked and I handled everything perfectly and I passed this test with flying colors!

I did do better!

I began to handle this Test with the same response I have always used. I began to respond with built up heated emotions… I mean who told this Test to come today anyways? As I said, I always find a way to justify….

But then I reverted! I didn’t have some type of deep realization about my inner self or nothing like that; I just stopped! I knew very well that the outcome is never good when my actions are from a bad place. I mean history has shown me that.

I have to take be willing to take these test and learning experiences rather than attacks! & to do that I have to change my response to them! It wont happen over night & it will not be easy, but I will get there!

 

“To create more positive results in your life, replace ‘if only’ with ‘next time’.”

 

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Gender Specific Toys and Play

One of the many classes I am taking this semester  is Gender Psychology. There are many gender related topics, such as: Transgender, body language, pay gaps among men and women; sexual harassment in the work place, gender roles & so much more!

We have been asked to post our “favorite” gender topic or a topic we want to learn about this semester. My choice was Toys and Play/Gender specific toys. This is not a new topic to me; I have heard and thought a lot about this topic, but there is a lot to learn and consider. This topic hits close to home for me for a few reasons.

While reviewing the topic, I found myself falling into this loop and conforming with  Gender specific Toys; I did not do this intentionally! It is society, marketing and how we are raised that brings us into this closed loop idea! A lot of times we don’t think twice about the toys we purchase.

When you shop for your daughter, nephew, son or niece, what do you buy? Do the girls get dolls, kitchen/cooking sets and a lot of pink? Do they boys get trucks, trains, and footballs? Can the girls play with the football and the boys play with the dolls? Should we make an effort to purchase Gender neutral toys?

I will not go into detail with my thoughts and opinions! I will say that there are many factors when talking about children and how they learn and grow and play is a BIG part of their development!

I am curious what you all think. Does it matter what children play with? Does play as a child have any affect of who they become as adults? Can your daughter play with trucks and your son play with the cooking set? Can one do it and not the other? Do you believe we need to incorporate more neutral toys to provide better balance and eliminate perceived gender roles?

 

I plan to  have a full paper with hours and hours of research on this topic soon! 🙂

I would like to know what you all think as well. I want to see all side of this controversial issue!

Mini Rant

Its the dreadful, scary “Week of Finals” and instead of studying my but off I have been house searching, fighting with insurance companies, running my kiddo to the Doctor (what seems like twice a week) and all other duties that comes with being a mother/maid/nurture doctor/repair person/cook. Oh, and I forgot my 8-5, Monday through Friday!

You know a lot of people think because my job consist of sitting at a desk allay that I don’t do any work….

Please punch yourself; better yet, come here and let me!!

While my job my not be stressful on my back and my feet may not hurt at the end of the day, that doesn’t mean I don’t work. I deal with corporate level situations that can escalate to people that are over my bosses boss. I have to maintain professionalism while dealing with the most unprofessional things; I have to maintain order; I have to make people happy. Yea that’s not hard at all…..

 

Any-who… I love my life, no doubt about it, but I can easily get wrapped up in this feeling of being overwhelmed. I can easily forget how often there are others who have it worse than I do.  We are all probably guilty of this… Sometimes it feels good to get acknowledged or just slightly noticed for all your doing; I damn sure don’t expect it; I know I don’t need it, but it just feels good knowing that someone see’s all you do.

I am sure many people can relate

RANT over…. everyone have a good day!

The Cabin

Creative writing is still very difficult for me, but I appreciate these challenges. Writing Challenge #2, click HERE to participate!

Every morning around this time of the year, for about 4 weeks, I would wake up to the most beautiful smell: Pumpkin Marshmallow. The sweet-smelling aroma swiftly engulfed the cramped cabin where my family and I stayed during the Holidays. The scent was not overbearing, it provided just the right amount of warmth needed for those chilly November mornings! The sound of pots and pans raddling and clanking in the kitchen was just a little reminder that Thanksgiving was around the corner.

 

Mother loved Thanksgiving; it was the only time of the year that all the family came to town and enjoyed each other’s company. The holiday visit usually lasted about 2 weeks; once the it ended everyone quickly returned to their busy eventful lives in the big city! Everyone tried to stay in touch the first few weeks after Thanksgiving, but generally that didn’t last! It would go back to just being Mother, Dad, and the twins after the Holidays. The twins are Lily and Kyle; my family adopted them when they were about 6 months old. They are actually blood cousins, but according to documentation and family bond they are my younger siblings! In total Mother and Father shared 6 children : the twins, Mark, Cassie, Paula and myself!

 

I usually came to town a few days early to help out with preparations. The week leading up to Thanksgiving we were required to get everything in the house impeccable, as Mother and Father prepped the food. Mother wanted floors and walls scrubbed spotless, she wanted Fall decorations flowing throughout the house and the fireplace equip to burn chips of wood all week long. The house remained very busy and smelled delightful, between scented candles and home cooked greatness. As each day passed everyone’s excitement grew greater and greater. The anticipation became almost unbearable the day before Thanksgiving Eve. This was also the day for the final touches on the menu and last minute cleaning sprees!

 

On the day before Thanksgiving, Family would start to arrive at all times of the day. Some would bring dishes of dessert and others would bring the liquid inspiration, not that anyone needed it. The men would gather in the den to watch sports while trying to smoke Cuban Cigars on the hush; Father would open windows hoping to air out the smell but it never worked! Aunt Francis would bring Christmas sweaters that she was able to weave together on her own. She was very good at what she did, bu those sweaters were not always appealing. Every year she would request a picture of everyone in their sweater and it eventually became a Christmas card. Then there was Cousin Billy and Cousin Frank, they are brothers and I believe my 2nd or 3rd cousins; they always seemed to have a “new date” or “new friend” every Thanksgiving. It’s like those two were allergic to settling down.

 

Each year it seemed like our family grew; everyone was branching out and starting families within our large Family. The cabin was always so full of laughter and love during these days. We all would sit and talk for hours about old memories and share outrageously embarrassing stories. Mother would always find a way to sneak in her photo albums; she mainly went for the same one every year. This photo album as outlined in the shiniest silver you would have even seen & if it was tiled in the correct position the reflection of light would allow the pages to shimmer. It was a very beautiful album. The album contained baby photos of my siblings and myself. Every year we created new traditions and revisited old ones. Every year we argued, laughed till we cried and cried until we laughed.

 

*……..*

 

It has been a long while since I experienced a Thanksgiving so full of joy. Once Father became sick the holidays became smaller and the laughter was no longer present.

 

He fought his battle as long as he could; but after 2 years of fighting it was understandable that he was tired. Mother took his passing very hard; she began to give up on life herself it seemed. The Twins moved out and off to college right before Fathers passing, so it was just Mother- alone. I asked Mother to stay with me because she didn’t need to be alone, but she felt closer to him at the cabin.

 

Days would go by before she returned any of my calls. Each time I talked to her she sounded more lost than before. I wanted to help her but I didn’t know if I could. She lost her life partner, the man she loved since the 8th grade. How could I possible provide her with the right words and support to get her through this?

 

Each day grew harder; instead of healing I felt my Mother was withering away. She eventually refused to leave the cabin at all. She refused to eat and take care of herself. So I finally decided to move back with her. This decision shocked a lot of my friends; they didn’t understand why my older siblings did not volunteer to take care of our Mother. I tried to explain that everyone had children and families their own; to pick up everything and move thousands of miles would be unfair and unrealistic for them. However, it was just me. I lived alone; I dropped out of college when father was diagnosed with cancer. All I did with myself was work and attend night clubs!  I felt as if my life was going nowhere fast and I needed to be with my Mother! I needed to add purpose and substance to my life.

 

I did not realize until I packed up and moved with my Mother that I was also still in pain. I had not completely come to terms with my Father departing this earth when he did. I ignored what I was feeling for a long time.That no longer became an option when I came back to the cabin.

 

My mother had not left the cabin for many months; she felt closer to Father there and I could understand that. We shared so many good memories in that place.

 

My 1st night back was uneasy; I heard my Fathers voice bouncing off the walls! I could feel his presence. I knew it was my emotions and all in my head, but it felt so real! The smell of his cologne lingered through the cabin that night. I thought Mother may have sprayed it, so I walked down the hallway to her room. She was in a deep sleep. It looked as if the sleeping pills I gave her did the trick. As I looked around the room I didn’t see any of Fathers belongings. It looked like the room they shared and been wiped clean that he was ever there. I did not understand how Mother could get rid of all his things but still sulk in grief for his passing.

 

I grabbed for the handle on the door to exit my Mothers room, as I tried twisting the handle the door seemed jammed. I tried my best to wiggle it open as quietly as possible; I didn’t want to wake Mother. As I tried pulling the door handle for a 4th time I felt a cold chill down my spine; I spun around quickly and caught a glimpse of this dull grayish light. I shut my eyes quickly; I kept telling myself I was tired and just needed to get some sleep. My gut was saying something different! I turned back to the jammed door and heard a unclear whisper. I could not make out what was said. I thought it was my mother so I called out to her, but there was no reply. I assumed she was talking in her sleep. My main concern was the door at this point. As I redirect my attention back to the door I heard that faint whisper again, but this time I can make out what was said.

“You cannot leave me! We are a family! I will never let you go!”

In that moment I understood why Mother would never leave this cabin.

He would not let her!

Michelle A. 11/23/15

In The Night…

Thought this would be fun! I have been trying to step out of my shell lately and get more creative. Info on how to participate click HERE.

The sounds of branches cracking echoed through the night as she wondered around the thick congested woods in a fearful panic! Then there was a loud thump, followed by horrific screams ending in dead silence!

 

-Michelle

 

Excuses

Usually there are so many things I want to say, but I am unable to say them. Not because I fear the consequences of my thoughts, but because my mind cant seem to take my jumbled feelings and allow them to exit  in some type of orderly fashion.

Instead of saying how I feel, I have allowed rage and my untamed temper do the talking.  I have let my inability to convert my thoughts into words, constructive, positive words, control me. I have let my anger consume me!

What I allow to escape my mind is never truly all of me; its never honestly all I feel. But for some reason the poison inside me takes over causing destruction all around. You cant run from it…I’ve tried.

This evil is apart of me.

I’m sure there are reasons I am unable to express myself in better ways. Or maybe they are just excuses….

 

“Unexpressed emotions will never die. They are buried alive and will come forth later in uglier ways.” – Sigmund Freud

The Man in the Captain Uniform

I cannot remember the last time I participated in a writing challenge; If I had to guess it was probably in my junior year of high school. I decided to try out the righting challenge presented by Ronavan writes.

I am beyond rusting, but I like the challenge and think I will use this to brush up on my “skills”

Here goes my short story attempt:

 

She stood at the window. Her face  consumed with this look of sadness; Her eyes  empty. She watched! She waved! She endlessly pounded on the glass!

And she received no response!

She watched as the man continued to walk, never turning around to acknowledge her, never turning around to wave back to her. She continued to watch the man in the highly decorated Captain uniform slowly walk away; his stiff, unchanging walk, she could never forget. She watch until she could not longer see him and then she watched some more. She did not cry; she was to strong for that. She did not ask questions, because she already knew the answers! She simply just watched.

Even at the young age of 6 the young girl understood that the man in the Captain uniform was a hero and he had to leave. She understood that no amount of crying would change that.

But what she did not know is that man in the Captain uniform could not wave goodbye without breaking down. As he drove away and seen that little girl in the rear view mirror he broke-down. His eyes became full, watery and began to burn; he had to let out what he was feeling. He did not want to leave his precious little girl, but he loved his country and made an oath. He feared she would never understand or forgive him for leaving.

But he should not worry for she is strong! She is strong for for her mother and younger brothers. She makes sure they know that Daddy will be home soon, with hugs, kisses and stories.

The man in the captain uniform is a Hero, but so is HIS little girl.