Let’s Talk About Babies

If anyone has ever paid attention to my blog postings.

If anyone who knows me… has ever paid attention to anything I say.

If anyone I have ever shared conversations with… has genuinely taken into account whatever I have shared.

Then you will recognize what I am about to say.

Very little has ever been mentioned… about my birth father.

Because he never made a sole effort to inject himself into my life.

Even as a child… it was me who had to reach out… to him.

And I got lucky with being able to do that.

It was my Dad… the man that raised me as his own… from the time I was 16 months old… who made it possible.

However… he insisted on telling me… what he decided I should know about my birth father.

I was only 9 years old then.

I had found a letter from my birth father’s second wife… explaining away not being able to pay child support.

Maybe I was only 9 years old.  But I could do simple math.

I was the oldest kid in the family.  And I was the only one that never got sunburns and peeled in the summer.

I now understand the pride in my Dad… blowing off the child support.

I can almost hear him say, “I don’t need that S.O.B.’s money.  I’m doing okay raising her myself.”

Me standing on the bed… him standing at the foot of the bed in their bedroom.

Holding my arms gently… telling me… his version of the story.

He’s passed on to the other side now.  He knows I know the truth now.

He knows I know… that he never met the man in his whole life.

But he knows the whole story.  Right?

I know.  I’m laughing, too.

Anyway…

At the end of the conversation… I asked if I would ever get to meet the man.

He promised I could… if we ever moved back to California.

I was 16 years old… when I got that opportunity to meet my birth father for the first time.

Finally… I could look in the mirror and see the other half of myself.

But fulfilling that promise came as a harsh blow to my Dad’s ego.

He felt as if all he’d given to raising me meant nothing.

His pain came out by way of violence… with the help of alcohol.

I have never forgotten that night… after coming back home from that visit.

At 16 years old… I felt like everything was my fault… simply because I wanted to meet this other man… so I could see who I looked like.

Things were never the same.  In some ways… things became much worse.

The healing between my Dad and I came after he divorced the girl that gave birth to me.

That real father-daughter relationship… actually showed up.

Sadly… it happened 2.5 months before he was killed by a drunk driver.

But he will always be my Dad.

As a man… he was aware of the clout this world gives a man… compared to any woman.

He used it… to do something he never had to do.

He gave me the guidance of a father… flawed as it may have been.

Flawed as it always is.  Parenting does NOT come with any manual.

But I am forever grateful for having my Dad.

There are babies that grow up in this world and become adults that carry flaws to the end of their journey.

Yet… one can look back and see the efforts they DID try to make… to do better… to be better.

But then… there are babies that come into this world… become adults and choose to remain stagnant throughout and to the end of their journey.

Some of us are born and grow up.  Some of us are born and only age.

My Dad did the best he could with all the knowledge he had… even when he didn’t have to.

My hope is that this will awaken some young minds to understanding how accountability enters our lives.

We enter this world as babies.  Initially… there are a woman AND a man… given with expectations… the positions of raising us until we reach the phase of adulthood.

Mainly because it takes a sperm and a womb to get us here.

Pay attention to the fact that I put the sperm in front of the womb.

Let that sink in.

This jacked up world has created a lousy bowl of gumbo in society that has generations growing up and giving no serious consideration… to the significance… of how we all get to this world.

And above all else… WHY.

Way too much confusion for babies and kids.

We all ask to come to this world.

But NONE OF US… ever sign up for THAT.

That’s WHY we have parents… who choose to take on the task of guiding us to adulthood… once we are conceived by their choice they both made… to make us possible.

Just because you can… never means you should.”

For a lack of a better term for understanding… I refer to parents as parental authorities.

I leave it in a general sense because not all children have a heterosexual set… or even a full set… of parents living under the same roof throughout their entire childhood.

But let me make this personal opinion very clear.

This world seems to bash LGBT COUPLES for wanting to raise children.

To that I say it’s time to examine the insecurity that arises every time you consider the subject.

Why are you so afraid?

You lacking in something for which they exude fine detailing?

No judgement.  Simply a question.

As children we see certain adults raising us as parental figures with authority.  And we are expected to respect and obey.

We are supposed to be able to trust them as well.  But that’s another conversation.

That’s not what we’re talking about here.

Anyway…

Too many of us are growing up with such a mix-mash of parental authority figures.

We are expected to adhere to the guidance of parental authority… until we reach that phase in our lives of adulthood.

Once we walk through those doors… that entire picture changes.

All those choices… are on us.

And yes.

We have a problem with parents who are confused… very confused… about that line where they must STOP… stand behind… and wave farewell… to giving all their instruction… as well as… holding expectations from us… any longer.

That’s where our first struggle with finding our true selves in our personal journey begins.

My birth father was… a teenager… still living at home with his mother.

By the time I was 9 years old… he was 27.

Wow.  I just now realized… he was the same age as my Dad.

That impacts my thoughts… feelings… everything I’ve realized about the man… even more.

People can argue about what I am about to say next… forever.  But deep down inside… everybody knows in their heart… this is the God’s honest truth.

This world still struggles with men refusing to allow women to be considered Queens.

Not only that.  But… Queens with intelligence.

Governmental… organizational… business sectors.  Even many religious sectors.  Men in these positions have a really insecure mindset that makes them feel threatened by… women.

And for the record… Eve was just another relative of all the women living in this world today.

Seriously.  Do some simple math.  This is… the year 2020.

Anyway… all these sectors have no problem putting more focus and effort into pressing down women… before and rather than… putting that focus and effort into other issues… that can sustain a whole collective.

Power.  Authority.  And it receives all the money and other material riches to make the world go round.

It is what it is… and it remains… in this year of 2020… which is downright pathetic.

With all that said…

This issue has everything to do with the responsibility of boys becoming men.

And in my case… there came a time when my birth father had the world standing behind him… and giving him… everything he needed… to inject himself into my life.

Giving him.  He had it made.

With two exceptions.  His focus and effort.

He was warmly welcomed into learning the craft of a machinist in tool and dye.  Earning that paycheck that buys the house and provides for the whole family.

You think any mother would receive the same?

That gave him all the power in the world to make choices.  Act on decisions.

He chose.  He cowed to another woman.  He chose.  No action toward his child.

This world needs to stop looking at women to do everything a man doesn’t feel like messing with… in relationships… and at home.

Because babies are being born.  It takes a woman… AND a man… to make that happen.

The Divine expects the woman AND the man that conceive that child… to guide that child until they move into that phase of adulthood… regardless of whether or not they ever choose to separate in life.

BOTH… are accountable for making damn sure… BOTH are allowed to do so… without any interference.

It’s time to stop family members and others in their circle from interfering in your role as a parent.

It’s time for YOU to stop using a child as a weapon… and/or for manipulation and control in your own journey.

It’s time for all those Governmental… Organizational… Business… AND Religious sectors… to STOP all the biased… half-ass effort.

It’s time to get behind BOTH… the sperm AND the womb…  FOR the baby born from it… ALL the way… in EVERY way of human rights that sustain their lives.

If you want a reason for why we’re all facing this Corona-virus and social distance from one another…

HERE IT IS!!

IT’S TIME FOR THIS WHOLE WORLD… to put its focus and attention on the protection of human rights of every baby coming into this world… and BOTH of their parents… regardless of their gender… their color… their religion… their sexual preference… as well as their predisposed societal judgment on this planet.

Truth be told… YOU need ALL THREE of them… just as much as anybody else in this world.

I Said… Can We Get a Little Balance Here!

Yesterday… I left for a day of running around in Lenoir City and Knoxville.  Anytime I head up that way anymore… I make sure I can knock out several things that need attention.

And of course… since I’m up in that area… I’ll find every excuse to stretch the trip all the way to Joann Fabrics.  LOL

Yeah… I know.  But I mean… how many guys leave work and reason out taking a left-hand turn to go down one other road and stop by a bar for a few beers?

Right!!?

Balance!  ;)~

My vice is safer.  I can’t go to jail.  *snicker*

Okay… I’ll show you a few of the goodies I brought home.

But this is all you get to see!

Much of the progress on my main goal has been hindered by a little ‘snafu’ that occurred as a surprise to all attorneys involved in my divorce.

Apparently… there was a recent lateral amendment passed by Tennessee State Legislature regarding transfer of vehicles to divorcing individuals.

Now the state requires that the final decree include everything… The year… make and model… and now… the VIN number.

The State of Tennessee rejected my application to have my Putt-Putt registered in my name.  The VIN number was omitted in the final divorce decree.

Their excuse is… ‘How do we know you don’t have 5 Kia Souls?

My thinking is… ‘If you got off your lazy butt and cross-referenced with both our names you would have all you need!

Their rebuttal… ‘People own multiple vehicles and never get them registered.”

My volley… ‘So, call the cops and have them drive by the house!’

We have a very lazy nation of people.

Anyway… I received a download of a screenshot of the ‘signed, sealed and filed’ amended page for the final decree into my attorney portal.

That meant I was able to go to the courthouse to obtain a certified copy with a notary seal.

Document in hand… I headed to my credit union.  Next task… changing my name on my banking account.

Okay.  I’ll be honest here.  I had Joann’s on the brain.  Now… I’m not all that terrible.  I also had Carlie’s Dog Cookies on my mind.

It was on my way back from Joann’s… coming through Turkey Creek to go ‘my back way’ to getting home and missing all the snotty traffic… when I remembered I had forgotten to remember what I KNEW I would forget!

I’ll wait for you to catch up.

I had a check from Home Depot in my purse.  I forgot to deposit it at the credit union when I went to change my name.

I dunno.  Maybe it was the free lantern they gave me for Customer Appreciation Day!  ROTFLMAO!!

We all know what’s really going on here.  Right!?

Seriously… it’s a cute little lantern!!  I’m sure it will come to be very useful.  Greatly appreciated!

Okay. Sooo….

Oh, it gets better!

I’ve known for quite some time now… the branch of TVA Credit Union in Turkey Creek is open until 8pm.  I think all the others close at 5:30 on Fridays.  I’ve never been to the one in Turkey Creek.  But it was the closest.  And the others were already closed.

Well… knowing they are open until 8pm does me no good at all… when I don’t even know where they’re located.

Ma’am…. I can’t find this account in our records.  I’m looking at your banking card.  Are you sure you’re at the right bank?”

I tried depositing my check at First Tennessee Bank.

Now we all… definitely… know what’s really going on here!

I will just take it as my moment for the day.  Okay?  I made it home!  I drove through all that rain!  In the dark!

Hey… I even managed to make myself a much needed pot of fresh hot coffee.

Decided to pull a bowl of soup from the freezer and heat it in the microwave.  The effort has left me thinking the house wiring for all the outlets on that side of the kitchen and dining area… are female.

Out of the blue… blackout.  The microwave and my Infrared Fireplace Heater are down for the count.  Trying to kick the breaker did nothing.  I’m thinking the grounding outlet has died.

Can’t be sure.  Just trying to stay positive here.

Either way… I’m left with an unexpected pleasure of contacting an Electrician on Monday.  In the meantime… the breaker is shut off.

This crap gets taken care of NOW.  I do NOT like electricity.  I need the electricity in this house working properly… and SAFELY.

That damn Mercury going back into retrograde.

I need to be able to cook… work on my sewing machine… embroidery machine… have my heater going… all at the same time.

And I refuse to plug in my coffee pot in the bathroom for the rest of my life!!   This house was built in the 1940’s.  And I am really beginning to wonder.

But I am grateful that I can still slobber through my very first edition of this little goodie I just received!  But that pattern for the cape. ‘squeal!

Talk about pumping up the adrenaline.  I can hardly wait!

For now… I have another book case to put together.  And I have to run to Lowe’s for the additional shelf pins I forgot to get.

It’s always something! LOL

I am so excited!  I drew the #9 card from Colette Baron Reid’s ‘Wisdom of The Oracle‘ deck for this post!

You can read about it by clicking here.

It FITS… so divinely!  Everything I am experiencing right now!  Even inside my heart.  Ciao’, TU! xoxoxo

I hope your weekend is much better!!

 

Conversations

My readings are telling me this next few days will be about looking back over my life.  Things coming up to the top.  Revelations.

Mind blowing.  Humiliating realizations.

Everything shows how it’s all connected to the here and now.

Things I’m trying to heal.

Searching for all the answers to, “What the hell is this about?

I’ve always understood that communication was necessary.  Especially in relationships.

I’ve realized I spent so much of my life under somebody else’s thumb without knowing how to stand up for myself… even communication became an issue.

Wow.  It goes back to being told as a child, “Children are to be seen and not heard.

I was never allowed to speak unless spoken to.  Well… beyond knowing when it was okay to ask if I could do something.

I was never worth a conversation.  Just answer the questions.

Just the facts.

Oh, my gosh… jump to age 20 years.

Ray Bell.  THIS is why I was always falling asleep when we spent hours having conversations!!

I was in such a good place!  I was so relaxed!  Finally… someone that could relate to things that wandered around inside my head all my life!

We… actually had conversations.  And… you participated.  You injected.  You could lead.  It was equal participation.

And they were deep… intellectual… awesome conversations.

Yeah… we won’t talk about the ones… you had… when you were drunk and loaded.  *snicker*

I’m not lying!  It is what it is!  It happened!

Don’t feel bad.  They were all funny!

And then… jump to 21 years later… when the story of my recent divorce began.

I was married to a man for almost 18 years… together for a year before marriage.

And looking back… we never had one single conversation… unless it was about something happening at that hangar that pissed you off.

Anything else was like… a business meeting.  Discussion of plans… progress… snags… resolution.

Resolution.  HA!  There was only one… always.  That look on your face.  My next thought… “Yeah, here we go again.  He’s gonna pull a Dwayne.”

The rest of it was the fight to get something done half-ass.  Because everything was done so half-ass.  And to accomplish anything meant going through a fight.

Not just the photos of all the projects that were never finished, either.  It was everything.  Everything about that marriage.  If it didn’t require a power tool… it was up to me to get it accomplished.

Or… not even waste my time.

I had to pick my battles.

And I own half of it all… because I put up with the crap.

But all that isn’t what even matters to me.  Not anymore… anyway.

What matters to me is… the overall reality of the fact that we never had one single… deep… intellectual… personal conversation between us.

Your idea of participation was… answering questions… as little as possible.

Just the facts.

Whatever came to fruition… came from Dwayne’s head… to half-ass.

It was his way… or… do it yourself.  And that applied to… everything.

Another phase in my life of… just the facts.

Yeah.

This is not Teresa.  That never was Teresa.

And Teresa will not live through that kind of abandonment anymore.

THIS is me now… standing in my truth.

I love having conversations… between two people… both participating.

Deep… intellectual… serious… fun… imaginary… hilarious… heartfelt… loving… kind… genuine… sincere… conversations.

All the beautiful words that describe beautiful conversations between two people in a relationship.

The idea of a man reaching out to me… to fill me in on his thoughts or ideas.

I like this!

Being interested in what goes on inside my head.  (Oh, boy… that could be a jump off a cliff.)

Being curious enough to seek my opinion about things.

Choosing a topic and venturing toward each other’s insights… to see if we meet in the middle on common ground with a same conclusion.

Refusing to settle for less than compromise comfortable for each other.

About anything.  About everything.

When the conversations become something enjoyed by both of us.

Something that becomes important to both of us… enough that we look forward to having more of them.

Important enough that we come to crave them.

Important enough that it feels like we’re taking turns… stopping the world and stealing time for one of those conversations.

When clocks and oceans aren’t even allowed to get in the way.

Communication is a good thing.

My favorite kind of Conversations are like… a really good home-cooked meal.

And the best of them come from… Reciprocity.

Look the word up in the Dictionary.

You’ll even find kindness and love… there.

One of Those Aha Moments

These days I spend a lot of time driving from county to county.  I’ve found there’s a lot to take care of on the tail end… now that this divorce is final.

The days always feel so different for me.  Strange.

Just when I begin to feel the ground under my feet… a thought… just one single thought can leave me feeling the ground under my butt.

And the wind knocked out of me… until the tears show up.

I am so happy to be divorced… finally.  Don’t get me wrong.  It’s not that.  I don’t even feel anger towards Dwayne.

I think I began working on moving beyond anger by the time I could say out loud, “I want a divorce.”

By the time we finished with Mediation… I let go of the anger and hatred before I walked out of the attorney’s office.

They say you still have feelings for someone you’ve loved… if you feel anything.

It’s not over until you feel… nothing.

I can’t say I’ve made it there… yet.

I still roll my eyes.

I don’t even want THAT to happen when his name is mentioned.

And don’t get me wrong.  I WILL get there.  Mark my word.

I will get there.

But… that’s only one layer.  All the driving gives me time to think.  It’s like things are purging from deep inside.

And these are things that… I think I finally get it.

I’m feeling waves and waves of… damage… swelling up and hitting me… one after another.  Like a perfect storm.

This has become very disturbing to me.  I keep asking myself, “Where is all of this coming from?

But one thing I feel so… absolutely… sure about… is this.

I know me… and my heart… well enough to know… this is junk that I can’t even consider taking into another relationship.

I’m so blown away to feel how much more keeps coming up from pits in my heart and mind that were so tightly hidden.

Maybe other people can.  I don’t know.  I only know I don’t have the stomach for going there.

I think I… finally get it.

I said I could love someone without them.  I said I could protect that love from even them.

This love… means too much to me.  It’s so important to me.  It’s a love that came out of nowhere.  It was totally unexpected.  This love even frightened me enough that I tried running away.  It’s a love that I have never felt before… in my whole entire life.

Today I learned… I need to protect that love… from me.

Today I learned… I can love… but not be ready.

It’s my responsibility to protect this love.  Because I know all that it deserves.

To poison this love… I would deserve to burn.

I need time to heal.

I can unravel hate… all the way down to… nothing.

But this love… cannot be unsewn.

More importantly… this is not required.

And I can… still… not be ready.

But I can heal… make myself ready… while protecting this love.

And THIS… gives me peace.

( The Wisdom of The Oracle card #33 came up… in reverse… meaning I should adhere to the Protection Message.  You can read it by clicking here. )