Daily Prompt; All Grown Up / The Daily Post

Hatbox with baby doll inside of it, for sale o...

Hatbox with baby doll inside of it, for sale outside the courthouse during Minnie Dean’s 1895 trial. (Photo credit: Wikipedia)


DP, Daily Post, Daily Prompt

When was the first time you really felt like a grown up (if ever)?

In my own wee eyes I was always grown up since about the age of nine. I have said this before in other posts of mine. But the love of my life was baby dolls. My best memories were at the age of nine. It is strange how I don’t remember very much before that time. I usually accept the fact that life was rough before that age.

Here is the repeated words. I would take my hand-made doll bed out under the big shaded oak tree. I would place an old blanket on the green grass. Place my bed on top of that. It would be filled with different baby dolls, bottles, clothes and little blankets.

For hours under the shade I would play all summer long. I would use my mother’s old comb and brush. I borrowed bobby pins, and when I got by with it I would also borrow my mother’s lipstick.

I would carefully change all my babies outfits. Take clean wash cloths and change their diapers. I wrapped them in blankets and walked with them around the yard. I talked to them like they were my real babies, all mine. I was the Mommy.

I would push them one at a time in my toy baby carriage. My Daddy had placed a wire basket on my bike and before I realized how far those pedals could really take me; I would ride up and down the dead-end lane we lived in.

I realize that although I don’t have a complete puzzle I have enough memories. There are a couple of jagged edged pieces still missing but it’s alright. I know that a lot of who I am today is because of the slowly put together puzzle pieces.

I always wanted to be a Mommy. I wanted to share my love with those around me. I knew that even at that tiny age, I had not had that bond before. I don’t remember what I said to my dolls, but in my mind yet today, I can see me taking them for rides and feeding them on that big old blanket.

I was a grown-up woman in a young girls frame. I recognized some basic needs that people wanted and craved in life. I made up my mind through that summer of nine years old that I was going to be the best darn Mommy when I was old enough to have babies of my own.

I did get that opportunity three times. I failed many times but the love I felt for my own little ones never faltered. We all know that instructions aren’t provided when they bring that tiny wrapped bundle to your room. We all do the best with what we know.

Who I became at a young age still is seen in me today as I have cared for so many ill people in my adult life. The job title of caregiver and Mommy and  Grandma remains with me until the day comes when I no longer breathe from my lungs.

I had a three-month break. God knew I was tired and sad. He knew I was exhausted of ideas. He helped me reboot my life. Today sadness still remains from my brother not being here.

The guilt has left finally of placing him. I can smile again. I see the wonders of God in my life. I look out my windows with a different set of eyes. God has seen this and now he is letting me know that I am ready for the next sequence of my book. Al is most likely coming home.

I feel peace about this. I am not stressing out. God is providing all the help that I will need to continue my journey with my brother. I am not saying there will not be sad days. Days of how do I get through this paragraph on the page. I will be able to do it. After all I have been a grown-up being a Mommy and caregiver since I was nine years old.

Daily Prompt ; Undo / The Daily Post

Efe ve dedesi


If you could un-invent something, what would it be? Discuss why, potential repercussions, or a possible alternative.

I can think of a few things I wish didn’t exist. Should I name them all? Should I name my top thoughts? I better stick to simple.

Eyes that could see no difference. Wouldn’t it be great if we saw each of us through only our heart and souls? If our eyes could not see that we each weight differently. That we could ignore the label on the clothes, or the longer eye lashes? How about the neighborhoods we live in. What if we could be blinded to everything and only see lips move and hear  what is being said.

Take this one category and sub-divide it. Bullying. I just hate the word bullying. I hate what it represents. Adults have a way of being sneaky. We have grown and learned how to hit certain buttons to upset others. We have learned to pick out the red button that we know will devastate another soul if we just click on it.

Children on the other hand are born innocent. Even in elementary years, innocence is still high on the top ten list. I am not going to dive on the jumping board and go behind the scenes and say what make children do what they do. I am going to stick to the surface, skim the pool.

I can remember back when I was young I developed earlier than the other girls in my class. I was wearing a bra months before other little girls. Lord only knows why, I am not blessed today. LOL

Boys and girls picked on me all the time. I was also heavier than some of the other little kids. Not obese but it was obvious to the naked eye. I got called fatty and heard the old saying fatty fatty two by four can’t get through the kitchen door. I heard that so often that If I had collected a dollar for every time, I would not have to be looking for a part-time job today.

Today manners are at the lower level and this allows wicked tongues to speak hurtful words. In the past five or so years it has walked on one more stepping stone. Now not only is there pain in words, there is physical pain.

If my parents ever witnessed or heard of me hurting someone physically I could guarantee I would not be able to sit down comfortably the next day. I am in awe each time I hear of children and teens beating  up on others. Prepared with weapons of knuckle busters and bats floors me. The weakest ones will draw strength through sharing their thoughts with other weak students, thus forming a rotten cheering block.

The main instigator feels power. Power in the mouth and hands. For the prize of acknowledgement and acceptance great strides are taken to end up the winners. Are they winners? Of course not, but they don’t see it that way.

This in turn leads me back full circle to my beginning statement. What started this? What happened before the first word was spoken? What pain is that child carrying to make him lash out.

I refuse to believe that there are many children who get off or love to hurt others just for the fun of it. There may be a small amount, and if there is, we need to work harder to see if there is a medical reason hiding behind them.

Well I will get off of this topic. Other wise you will still be reading about this at bedtime. Our children are our futures. It takes one minute to conceive a baby. It takes a life time to raise and nurture them. Many pebbles are tossed in our path as we lead them from infant to adult. As parents we can only do what we know best how to do.

Lord be with the adults who don’t want the child, but refuse to let any other caring human raise them. Lord be with the children that are homeless. I pray for young minds to never be starved for knowledge. Lord I  pray that you wrap your arms around those who are hurting. Bring comfort to them. Lord help us adults to not look the other way. I pray that you help guide our thoughts throughout each day. Let us be a blessing instead of a thorn. Help us Lord, for our world is like it has never been before. Amen

Trip Gone Bad


I try to be nice and thoughtful in general, so I decided to take Al out to supper to the DQ. They have the Pumpkin Blizzards now, and I had a coupon plus they had a special going on for 2 double cheeseburgers for $4.00. I knew that he had not been out of the house for the weekend, plus he is still upset for the fact that as he says, he is not healed yet, so why is the shower girl and therapy people not wanting to keep coming here.

The office people from the Home Health Care told me this morning, that they were going to see what was going on, which to me, did not make me feel real secure, because if the office doesn’t know, then who does? All day the phone never rang, so I don’t know if anyone is coming back this week or not. I gave Al his shower this morning, but I should not have to do that part of his personal care, and I still don’t appreciate it hours later, that no one called me prior, and I just received a text message at 9am, saying the shower girl would not be back, and his shower was scheduled for 10:30. Great big notice you gave me, thank you very much!

So we went into the DQ, and he seemed happy about getting his blizzard and his food. The girl brought the food over to our table and we started to eat, and then he asks me if we can go to Wal-Mart to get him some slipper socks. I just had mentioned that this morning as I was putting clean clothes into his dresser drawers, that we should get some more now that the weather was turning colder. I told him that we could not go to Wal-Mart, as it was going to be dark in about forty-five minutes, and the deer are out now in early evening. I do not like to drive after dark, because I guess old age tends to make the eyesight worse, and I also did not want to get slammed by a deer.

He started to cry and when he gets upset his tremors pick up more speed, so I said how about we stop at the Dollar General store on the way home. I can run in and get them much faster than going to the big store. His reply was no. I said that I thought he wanted to get slipper socks and he stated yes he did, but he only wanted to get them from Wal-Mart.

Knowing him as well as I do, I knew he had a side purpose for wanting to go. He wanted to look at the toy section for more big cars. Now these cars are cool, I admit, but they also run from $15.00-$24.00. I have been working with him on a goal that he can only have these expensive cars once a month. When he didn’t want me to stop at the smaller store, I knew right a way it was the car section that was making him want to go to the larger store.

For the second time I explained quietly and nicely, that the answer was no. He began to raise his voice and cry harder, and the tremors were full force by now. I hate to say it folks, but I was beginning to get mad, not upset, mad.

If it is your young child throwing a fit, you can pick him up and remove him from the scene, but a big man, I can not do this. I told him to hush, to knock off the tears, that his game of throwing a fit was not going to work. I reminded him of where we were, and that people were staring at him, and reminded him that he didn’t like people to see his tremors so I was sure they did not want to hear him or see his tears.

He continued this bad behavior all through our meal. I snapped at him and told him that I was done being nice, that I was thinking of him when we decided to go out to eat, and I did not appreciate this bad treatment. So he stared at me with every bite he took. I was so angry at his fit, that I wanted to grab my supper and head for the safety of my car, but instead I snapped once more, and I picked up my ice water and told him if he did not cut the tears and zip his lips, I was going to have to splash him with my ice water, and then he says too loudly, that is abuse!

I got up and left my supper sit, and went to the car. I could see him from the front door as he sat there and ate, and he kept shaking his head back and forth, at the bad treatment he thought I was giving him. He is lucky, because what I wanted to do was pick him up and give him a spanking. Yep, I sure thought that. I don’t care how old he is, you don’t throw temper tantrums in public, when I am with you.

As I was sitting in the car watching him and waiting for him to finish, I looked up at the ceiling of my car and silently cried out, please someone help stop what is happening. I am tired, someone help me. If anyone listened nothing happened. He finished eating and put his jacket on, and came to the car and we came home. He is in his room sulking and crying and I am healing myself through blogging.