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Monthly Archives: March 2013

Pink Puffed Cotton Candy Head

cotton candies,food,snacks,treats,sticks,desserts
Being a single momma does not leave a girl with much time to do “nothing.”  Or anything that is considered “silly,” “a waste of time” or “fruitless.”  Especially when one (meaning me) feels like they are trapped inside a cotton candy machine, and can’t seem to find their way out ~ I need to keep myself focused on what’s important.  I am not in a particularly  joyful mood these days.  I’m like… trying to to get myself situated over here by: learning to tweet (I still and will forever feel like a twit ~ who in the poopy cares what I’m doing throughout my day, I don’t even care to know what I’m doing throughout my day?!)
And that dreaded point system that I so loudly declared I was doing… Have I really even started on it or am I just now starting to start seriously or merely considering to start? Hmmmm?  As if this is not enough on a girls plate, I’m working on my second book and gave myself the deadline of June 1. 2013 to finish it. It would be much easier to meet said goal if I allowed myself to sit down and actually peck away at the computer instead of staring at it and then madly rushing out the door to avoid being alone with it….
Next, there’s those ‘people’ I live with…you know the boy and the girl??? They need my attention too.  Cooking, cleaning, mixed in with trying to exercise ~ which is supposed to clear your brain when you feel as though you have wad of puffed cotton candy lodged inside your head and can’t seem to push past it….anyhow, you get the picture.  I’m busy.  I don’t have time to “waste.”
This brings me to my point: Yesterday morning, I’m rushing around like a wild chicken, throwing colored papers, ribbon, hole punchers, markers etc into a bag as I dash out the door.  Since I woke up at 3:45a.m., one would assume, my brain would not be all puffed cotton candy; that it would be calm and clear, right?  No such luck. Foggier than ever.  I’m tearing down the street when a Nosy Busy Body calls me on the phone.
Nosy Busy Body: “Wanta go out to lunch?”
Moi: “No, I can’t.  I’m headed to do a kindergarten authors visit this morning and I will have just enough time to get back to pick up Izzy from school.  Sorry.”
Nosey Busy Body: “Why would you bother to do an authors visit to little kids who don’t even know what you’re talking about? Are you getting paid?”
Moi: “Errrrrr um no, I never get paid for my author visits but I ~”
Nosy Busy Body: “You have to be home to pick up Izzy? Sissie, you live across the street, the child is 13, she doesn’t care if you pick her up from school. Let her walk!  It’s stupid!!! And that authors visit, you know a bunch of 5 year olds won’t be paying attention to you.  You’re wasting your breath!  Come on, bag it and come to Aiken with me!  Just say you forgot.  It’s nothing.”
As I hung up my phone, I started thinking: maybe Nosy Busy Body is right?  Do these little people even care if I come?  Do I?  Shouldn’t I be home on my computer or tweeting or blogging or something worth while?  And yes, I do live across the street from the school. Why do I kill myself every single day to get there 30 minutes early so I can be one of the first mothers in line?  Am I just wasting my time with this as well? Ugggggg, how can I tell what is wasting my time and what is not?  Oh this puffy cloud of cotton candy, I wish it would float over my head and out of my life so I could start thinking clearly again…
Nevertheless, I drove to the kindergarten class to make my authors visit.
I told the children how Bella Blue was having a terrible day, that she wanted to be the best at something and she took things too far, she broke the rules and as a result, Bella Blue fell and broke her arm.  Now, Bella Blue had to think of something/anything to make her day go better.  “Was it even possible?”  I asked the children.  Even though they were only five years old, did they have bad days too?
“Oh yes!!!” They all squealed! “I have a bad day when my little sister pinches me!”  Said one.  “I have a bad day when my tummy hurts!” Shouted another.  And yet another “I have a bad day right this very day!!” A little fella said, all puckered faced.
“Well good grief!”  I told the lil fella.  “You know, Bella Blue figures how to make her day go better….”
“How?! How?” The little fella asks all, jumpy and excited.
“She stops thinking about herself, her own sad day and she asks God to put somebody on her heart to bless.  And you know what? God always will.  You just have to ask.”
So yesterday, on this day that I was sure I was going to have a wasted dratted blah blah day, I sat down with 3 kindergarten classes and we all forgot about ourselves and made homemade get well cards for sick children in the hospital…Photo: The Kindergarten Class at Reid Memorial made cards for sick children in the hospital!  :)
I watched them, they were all so careful to make their cards just right; perfect for somebody who was sad or sick or lonely…It is the first time in weeks that I found myself laughing and smiling….  Happy.
They were  so very proud of themselves…..I hugged them goodbye and walked down the steps and into the cool afternoon thinking about those sweet babies ~  All the way home, I kept wondering if they would ever know how much they blessed me by allowing me to bless them?
Photo: Authors visit with Reid Memorial's kindergarten class :) Precious!!
I arrived just in time to be the third momma in our carpool line to get Izzy. You may think this is a time waster and that’s ok. But as for me:  I know that my time is limited where she will actually want her momma to be there first in line; that very shortly she will think I am a complete idiot and run from me and not to me.  It is these days that I cherish and have decided that they are indeed not time wasters, not silly and not stupid.  It is what works for me and my sweet family ~ small but mighty.

The Point System

I can tell that Shelly thinks I am an idiot for suggesting my point system.  I can hear it in her voice, even on the phone. 

SHELLY: “I am going to this stupid piano recital for my daughter tonight and I better not see Scott!  That evil freak!  How dare he walk out on me after 22 years of marriage?!?  I hate him, I hope he rots in the firey pits of hell!”

MOI: “Whoa chief!”  I say, trying to calm Shelly.  “I’m so proud of you for going, even though you have to go alone, you’re still going.  Good mommy!” I tell her.  “You need to get out of the house.  Get up, get dressed and get moving.”  

And then I hear the sobs.  Gulping, snotty nosed wailing on the other end of my phone. 


Shelly: “I’ve never once had to go to one of these functions alone.” Shelly tells me between nose blowing.  “I don’t want to be alone.  I don’t want to be divorced.  We have no money, my daughter is being a big fat twit,” (well, actually, she called her daughter another word but I’m not one to cuss on my blog) “and I don’t know why I’m even going tonight.  Sissie, you’ve been divorced twice, I can barely make it through this one, I don’t understand how you did it.”  

MOI: “You’re going to the recital because it’s the right thing to do, Miss Priss. Secondly, when I went through my divorces, (yea, it’s plural, deal with it), I handled it all wrong.  I hope you can at least listen to my advice because I have been there. I held it all in, all the pain, hurt and resentment.  I used to say that if you squeezed my arm, poison would surely have dripped out from my pores.  It was seriously that bad.  But then, I got very, very sick and it became a ‘do or die’ situation.  I had to change my entire life around.  Shelly, everybody has falls in life. It’s like walking out the back door on a cold february morning.  You’re minding your own beeswax, you’ve got a full day planned so you innocently step out into your walkway and BAM!  You’ve slipped on the ice.  You’re lying there all out of breath, squirming and gasping trying to figure out “What the HAY just happened here?”


SHELLY: “Well, what did you do?” Shelly says as she blows her horn.

I tell my friend simply and matter of factly the cold, hard truth:

MOI: “I had to pick myself up off the ground.  Nobody can do it for you.”

SHELLY: “Yes! Yes!  Shelly snorts in my ear. “But how, how do I pick myself up off the ice?  I hate it here.”

Excited that I’ve seemed to give Shelly some sort of relief and light at the end of this very dark tunnel she’s traveling through, I let her in on my point system. 

MOI: “Well, of course you hate laying on the ice.  It’s cold, uncomfortable, your entire life seems frozen until you can get back up.  As for me, After trying everything else in the world and not getting anywhere, this is what I did: 

I came up with The Point System.  I took out a piece of paper and wrote down 100 things I wanted in my life but was too afraid to conquer.  One by one, I tackled each fear and gave myself a point for accomplishing them.  It took me a year and if I did not finish them in the first year, I just put them down for the second year.  I think I did this for about two years.  It was life changing.” 

There was dead silience on the other end of my phone.

MOI: “Shelly, are you still on the phone?    So what do you think, will you try my point system?  I will help you 🙂 Do you ever think about just how much your fear is holding you back from?  You know thinking back, I wish I woulda taken a picture of all my points.  You should start tonight with your daughters recital.  Take a picture and send it to me.”

SHELLY: “Ummmm.  Yea, I guess that might work?”

MOI: “Might?  Might?  It does work.  I know for a fact this works.  I’ll help you make your list, girlie.  Come on! Start tonight, ok?  I’ll be looking for my picture? Yes? You’re in?”

SHELLY: “Yea.  I guess you’re right.  I’ll send you the picture in a little while.”

Hanging up the phone, I started thinking about my own point system.  After recently experiencing a quite nasty fall to the ice myself, I think I may just do it all over again.  If first it was fear…. what did I want to accomplish this time?  Maybe 100 things that intimidate me but I so despartly want?  Do I really want to take this challenge again?  It ain’t easy.  It’s time consuming.  It’s easier to stay huddled under the covers and watch Lifetime classics such as ‘Lying Lovers, The Looser Who Left and Mending A Broken Heart weekend marathons.’

But still, Truth be known, I am not back on my feet.  I am still wiggling around on the ice, trying once again to steady myself so I can creep back off the ice.  I can do it.  I’ve had much harder falls than this one.  I can and I will.  I can and I will.  I can and I will…..

After all, life is a journey.  Why would I want to miss it?


FYI: I never did get that picture…..

Making Memories On St. Patricks Day

I am Sooo excited to have my blog back after a severe case of being hacked. Or at least I think I have it back.  I’m still getting these random e mails from freaks with names like Ezekiel43521 and or / pencilbreath491 and jamaurshorts6677 that have placed themselves as my ‘new site admin’.  Ugg. Nevertheless, I (for now) have my blog back and can return to blogging.  PHEW!  BTW: While reading, you may find several typos and mispellings.  Sorry.  For some reason, I can’t get my spell check to work.  Sheesh!  So with this said…

Let the St. Patrick’s Day CELEBRATION  begin!

I have placed a picture on my blog of Miss Sassy Pants, AKA Reidy, my sweet six year old niece. Here she is at the Savannah Ga parade exhibiting her St. Patrick’s Day spirit.  Since I do not have inlaws that live on the back waters in a beautiful home on Savannah Ga, I have to live vicariously through my brother who does.  Every year they head down to the coast and live their green day to the fulliest.  I am extremely jealous as this is the only kind of celebrating I did:

This came from a recipe I found on line from  It’s called White Godiva Martini Cake.  It took me the better part of my day to prepare it; probably because I didn’t have any of the necessary items. (I’ve been cooking my fanny off so I was low on cooking items and had to make at least 3 separate trips to the grocery store.  Still, I wanted my babies to have a special St. Patrick’s Day experience. 

It was such a beautiful day outside, I could have stayed outside and played in my garden, but those memories, I told myself I was making fabulous life long memories for my children.  I can hear them years from now:

“Remember when mommy made that yummy green cake?? She worked on it all day long.  She’s the bestest mommy ever!!” 

Even though I was plagued with spring fever, I compromised.  I flipped all my windows open for fresh spring air – ok, partly for that and partly because I kept catching my house on fire.  FYI: don’t turn on your self clean option for your oven thirty minutes before you plan on baking.  I don’t care how much you try to reason with the ole battalack, the door ain’t opening! Very frustrating!  It also catches little grease puddles and boy howdy – do those suckers stink when being burned off.  Neverthless, I wanted to do something memorable for my children, you know, on account of them NOT having grandparents that live on the bluff of Savannah Ga?  Most of my Sunday, I continued on with my high dollar, high maintence green St. Patricks Day cake.  At 6:00, my scrumptous dessert I slaved over prepared for sweet innocent babes was finally complete.

And I bet you’re thinking they lapped up that laborous cake like two hungry dogs, right?


THEM: “Momma, we’re not trying to hurt your feelings but….it’s well….green.”

ME: “Well, of course it’s green!  It’s green so you can be in the St. Patricks Day spirit.  I don’t want y’all to feel like you’re missing out.  Go ahead! Dig in!” I say jumping in delight at my fine cooking skills.

THEM: “Errr ummmm.  It looks like mold.”

ME:  “My cake looks like mold? “No, silly, it’s really a White Godiva Martini Cake. Yea, it’s green but mommy had to go to 2 different stores for the green food coloring. She wanted it to be extra green!

THEM:  “Martini cake??!!  Are you trying to get us drunk? What’s up with that mom??!!”

Long sighs, eye rolling and looks of extreme disappointment…

ME:  “No, no.  The liquor cooks out in the oven, if you would just try one lil bite, I  -”

THEM: “You know momma, you probably need to take a bath, you have green cake stuff all in your hair….”

and then…

THEM: “But…Thanks for the cake, Momma.  I think I will just have a pop tart for dessert.”

ME: “Excuse me??!!! A pop tart?!  You’re not going to even try my green cake?  Mommy worked very hard on it!”

THEM: “Yea, well, it certainly smelled like you were working very hard, that’s for sure.  Something has been smelling very bad all day.  Maybe it was all that liquor you put in it, I don’t know.  Say, did you catch the oven on fire again?  How about this, we’ll try your green cake another day.  Okay, momma?”

So, 22 hours later, my green St. Patricks Day cake still sits.  I even set it on it’s cute lil cake perch that I recently bought from TJ Maxx.  It’s Untouched.  It’s Uneaten.  Oh, pardon me.  One slice is gone.  I gave to my neighbor, Marti.  She graciously tried my cake.  She said it was fabulous so I’m including the recipe on my recipes page.

 Bon Appetit!