Shock and Awe: Pregnant Teen Sues Parents

Every since last week, I’ve been going OFF about this pregnant 16-year-old who had the audacity to sue her parents.
So is that what they’re doing now? Teens are rewarding their parents by bringing lawsuits against them, eh?
In case you haven’t heard about this foolery, let me give you some background in what I’ll be ranting and raving about.
Parents of the pregnant teen were unhappy to learn that she was with child and so, they were pressuring her to have an abortion.  They supposedly issued threats (that her life was going to be ruined; she was flushing her future down the drain; she wasn’t going to amount to nothing; they were going to make her life miserable, etc) in hopes of steering her to abort the fetus.
Turns out her parents were indeed making her life a living hell. Plus they must have taken away the vehicle that they purchased for her.
This child got the bright idea to solicit the help of some group (obviously pro-lifers) to support and represent her in suing her parents.
To shorten the story, she won the case against her parents. They couldn’t force her to have an abortion (which we all already know. No clinic would ever perform an abortion on an unwilling patient) the parents can no longer go around making her life a living hell or uncomfortable. The parents agreed to let her use the car that they purchased, in order for her to get back-and-forth to school and work. She will be allowed to marry her 16-year-old boyfriend. The parents will also pay her cell phone bill and half of her health insurance.
This is what our country has boiled down to. Teens are being rewarded for their bad decisions and choices, while the parents are being punished. What responsibility are these two irresponsible “children” being taught when they’re being rewarded the “gifts” they seek in a court of law?
I agree. No one should be threatened with physical force when it comes to an unexpected pregnancy, but why would the parents have to be responsible for half of her medical expenses? Why do they have to allow her to enjoy the privilege of driving around in a car that they purchased? Why on God’s green earth do they have pay for her to have the luxury of a cell phone?
I’ve always been under the assumption that grown people take care of themselves. Grown folks don’t “need: anyone to pay their cell phone bills; they don’t “need” to use the car they someone else bought; they don’t “need” some to pay for half their medical expenses.
The mere fact that this child “needs” her parents for these minute things is a testament that she doesn’t “need” a child because she can’t even take care of the basic things that she needs (wants) to survive.
If she and her boyfriend want to make grown-up decisions, then why wouldn’t they be ordered to endure the grown-up consequences?

All-in-all there was definitely a better way for this unfortunate situation to be handled, besides this child dragging her parents to court.
If you found yourself in this situation what would your reaction be? How would you handle such a court ruling?

Had it been me:

Chances are extremely high that I’d be held in contempt of court and ordered to jail for an extensive amount of time.
First, I would have taken my SUV and ran over the car that I was told to let her drive. I would have driven back and forth over the heap of rubble until it was obliterated! While in the midst destroying that vehicle I would have called the insurance company to cancelled my coverage before calling the cell phone company and breaking whatever contract I had remaining on the account.
The nerve of that child, the judicial system and whatever idiots represented her in court!
I know my reaction would be extreme, but I’m an extreme kind of gal. I firmly believe that when there are no consequences, these are the messes that you end up with!

Food for thought:

Did it not cross anyone’s mind that maybe it was the privilege of having access to a car and the luxury of a cell that got her into her pregnancy fiasco to begin with? Hmm.

She has all of these people in her corner now, but where will they be once this child is born? What help will they (especially the little loud mouth 16-year-old boy who helped to get her in this mess) provide when it’s 2-years-old? 5-years-old? 13-years-old? Matter of fact, where will any of them be when this child winds up pregnant (or has someone pregnant) at 16?
We all know how this fairy tale will end.
I’m so certain that it’ll end with a big fat, “I told you so!”

{Wordless Wednesday} Wanted: Mate

My name is Lonely Lue
Once upon a time I was one of two
At first I was fond of my new ly found single status
but I soon realized that I’m bad at this
being single thing, that is!
So if you see my better half
Can  you tell her to please come back?
Cause soon our  job over here will be through
and I want to go charity as two!

We seriously can’t find the mate to this shoe. It’s been missing in our apartment for two months!

Happy Wordless Wednesday

Wordless Wednesday: Bottles of Water

Bottle of water on the island, half full!

Bottle of (hall-full) water intermixed with toys!

Bottle of water under the couch!

The list and pics of  half utilized bottles of water lurking about our home can go on and on and on.
By the way, whenever I ask any of the three children, “Whose water is this?” I consistently get the answer, “Not mines!”
I have vowed, NOT to buy anymore bottles of water. Not only will water bottles NOT litter the apartment any longer, but I’ll also do my part in preserving mother earth!
Done deal!

Happy Wordless Wednesday!

Open Letter: To My Daughters

I think it’s every mother’s dream to have a precious little daughter. We all want a daughter to dress up all pretty and comb her hair up into pigtails with the world’s prettiest bows. Each of would like to have that little girl who’ll grow up and one day be one of our closest friends. How lucky am I? I got blessed doubly — I have two of the world’s greatest girls, as my daughters.

My Two Girls!

Dear Girls,

Every day I express gratitude for both of you. I’m so proud to call myself your mother. I’ve loved each of you since the moment I learned of your existence. You two have a long lives ahead of you, still I’m extremely proud of who you are today.
My dream is for both of my girls to go out and bless the world with their strengths, charm and sheer awesomeness! Priceless traits that my parents blessed me with, I hope to continue passing onto the both of you.
I have no doubt that you two will change the world, as you’re armed with an exuberant amount of intelligence, charm, wit and brilliance.
No matter who or what comes up against you, keep your feet firmly planted and heels driven in the earth and always remember who you are, where you came from and what you’re capable of.
You are priceless prizes and nothing will ever change that! Remember to always use your powers for good (wink).

Love You Both Always,

Your Proud Mother

Why is Blogging so hard?

Like so many others, I’ve been trying to break into the world of blogging. And like so many of those before me, I’ve been having my butt handed back to me, after it’s been severely kicked.
It’s been more years than I care to reveal, in which I’ve been trying to make a meaningful impact in the blogging universe. Need I say, that I’ve been met by a great resistance?
I’ve called it quit several times, but after a short hiatus I find myself back at it again. Something inside of me just won’t let it go. I guess, unconsciously, I’m determined to succeed and conqueror what I set out to do, so long ago.
For the last couple of months, I’ve been concocting  a foolproof attack plan, as it pertains to my blogging efforts.
I’ve been soliciting advice, reading countless bloggers success stories, pinning (and actually going to the sites) and reading every single link that I come across on Pinterest.
I’ve learned about linking up, hosting giveaways, having Twitter parties, creating strong SEO, supporting other blogs and marketing my own blog. I’m still trying to figure out how to start reviewing products (fingers crossed). I’ve decided on who will host my new and improved website. I’ve even laid out how I want my new website to be designed (now I just have to find a blog designer). But, my biggest weapon has got to be my blog binder!
I hadn’t a clue as to what a blog binder was. Matter of fact, I never knew such a thing even existed! After visiting several blogs and realizing that a blog binder is an essential item to running a kick-butt blog, I jumped on the bandwagon and created one.
Originally, I pieced one together. I was happy with it. It was simple. It would get me off to a good start. It would do!
Just when I was gushing over my little creation, I ran across this wonderful pin about blogging on Pinterest.
After going through the extensive lists of printable blog planners, from various bloggers, I decided to scrap mines and go with one from the list.
I’m glad that I did. Only because  now, I feel well prepared. I don’t feel like this planner is missing anything. Every single detail has been covered and now the rest is up to me!
So what is a blog binder?
A blog binder is a blogger’s best friend. A blog binder keeps the blogger organized and on task! It houses everything necessary to run an efficient blog: a yearly planning calendar, daily duties and to do lists. There’s a section to jot down notes. There’s a social media checklist, SEO ranking. There’s a place to keep track of reviews and giveaways. There’s a section for your future blog ideas and a whole slew of other things. All the great bloggers advise they you create one for yourself.
To follow are a few pics of my binder!

Courtesy of http://www.homeschoolcreations.net

Blank monthly calendar with note section at the bottom.

Weekly calendar with to do space at the bottom.

I placed all of my pages in protective covers and I separated each section with dividers.

I also placed some empty protective covers in the back to hold pics, business cards, etc. As my children will now have voice on my blog, I inserted several more blanks calendars in the back for them to use. I prefer they have their own calendar to write on versus using mines!

I’m super excited and can’t wait to put all of my newfound knowledge to work. Wish me luck!

Here’s the link from which I downloaded my blog planner:
www. homeschoolcreations.net
You can find the extensive list of blogger planners here: bloggingwithsimplystacie

or on my Blogging Pinterest board!

Open Letter to the NRA

Dear NRA Leaders,

Hello! My name is Mariann and I am the mother of four children, whom I LOVE more than anything. My love for them is what brings me to write this letter.
Midway through the year of 2011, I packed my four children up and moved across the country. I left behind my parents, my sibling, nieces, nephews, aunts, cousins, friends and neighbors, many of whom I’ve known for the last thirty years of my life.

Our drive down to Texas!

Mainly, I did this because I wanted save my teenage son. You see, Detroit has become the belly of the beast, as it pertains to crime and violence. Crime has soared beyond the perimeter of the clouds and gun violence is amongst the highest in the nation. The homicide rate for black males is astronomical.
As I already stated, I love my teenage son. He’s my firstborn and I didn’t want to lose him to a bullet. So it was best for me to relocate somewhere completely foreign to us. Even if it meant leaving behind everything and everyone with which I was familiar.
When we’d safely moved away I was able to breathe a sigh of relief. I was amazed that we’d successfully escaped. We’d escaped the vicious threat of unnecessary, untimely, senseless violence and/or a tragic death,  which would’ve  likely brought itself, unsolicited, to my front doorstep. Just as it had to so many of my fellow Detroit parents, attempting to raise their children within city limits.
I can’t help but feel that the life of a black teenage boy isn’t respected. Not by his peers, not by the law, not the gun lobbyist, the NRA, Washington and especially not by the urban law enforcement; seeing that no one has ever taken any measures to curtail the threat to their existence.
I called myself moving from that lack-a-daisy inner city attitude (as it pertained to my son) and into an area where he’d have a better chance at surviving his childhood and teenage years.
In my mind, the suburbs had to be better than the urban cement jungle. Right?
Well, I was partially right.
This last year and a half, I got the best sleep ever.  I haven’t slept so soundly, since becoming a mother nearly sixteen years ago. I was able to sleep comfortably because my child, my children were safe.  Not only were they safe, but they were also free.
No longer was I hesitant to let them walk to the neighborhood store. Now they could go outside and play, as children ought to be, without the constant threat of gunshots ringing out!
For the first time, in a really long time, I’ve been able to let my mommy guard down, rest and exist in peace.
Now what I’d like you to do is imagine how pissed I was when that peace was unexpectedly  interrupted and that protective mommy guard had to go back up!
July 2012 is when that maniac walked into that Colorado movie theater, in suburban Aurora, and opened fire on audience members waiting to view a movie.
Imagine the terror that infringed upon my person when I learned of that tragedy. Especially since my teens are at the movie theatre every free chance that they get.
With that horrific incident I was back in full mommy protection mode.
But wait Mr. NRA leader and other NRA people. It gets even worse! Just when enough time had passed, I started thinking, “that was an isolated incident, not likely that it’ll happen again.”
I, along with the rest of the nation, receive another punch in the gut, this pass December.
It goes without saying, our schools are suppose to be one of the safest places for our children, next to our own homes. It’s suppose to be that lone place, outside of home, where you can let your guard down and know without a shadow of a doubt, that your child is protected.
Never once did any of those Newtown parents think that they were sending their children into the direct line of fire. Never did it cross any of their minds that, “Today! A mad gunman could shoot his way into my child’s school and commit a heinous crime against them!” Never once did any one of them consent to sending their beautiful and innocent children onto a battlefield that December morning.
Those are NOT the thoughts that we, as parents,  have when we send our babies off to school! It’s not what we think about when we purchase tickets to watch a movie or when we pull into the parking lot of the local mall to go shopping.
When did going on about our daily lives, begin to mean that a little bit of deadly gun violence can be inserted in there, at any moment? When did our beautiful nation become an open battlefield? When did the American people become moving targets?

As that mother of four who fled to a suburban Texas city to flee the inner city gun violence, in order to save my oldest son, I want you to know I’m back to being filled with constant worry. My thoughts, days and nights are back to being consumed with being their protector.
Understand this, not only am I back to being concerned for the safety of my teenage son, but now I’m just as concerned for the safety of his siblings! I’m concerned times four now. Way more than before!

The open and constant threat of gun violence is no longer reserved primarily for the young black males that roam through the inner city. It has broken rank and has penetrated the beautiful folds of suburbia.
It has presented itself in the workplace, shopping centers, college campuses, high school campuses, and sadly elementary school campuses. So yes! I’m back. I’m back to worrying each and every single time I or my four children leave the safety of our home.
It’s clear that gun violence will rear its ugly head whenever and wherever. Gun violence is no longer reserved for certain areas, times, days or people. The threat is constant for everyone and can present itself anywhere and at anytime!
NRA Leaders, this doesn’t have to be. The American people don’t have to live under the constant threat of gun violence. The American people shouldn’t have to live in fear. They shouldn’t have to wonder nor anticipate when and where the next shocking and tragic act of gun violence will occur. Why does this have to be America’s new normal?
It’s no secret that the current president and his administration are not friends of yours. But if only, for the sake of the American people and being an American and loving this nation, as you so loudly proclaim, can the common sense measures that everyone agrees upon be taken? Can we agree to implement those laws? Can those be the first steps taken?
Mothers and fathers, such as myself, would like nothing more than to get back to our old normal?
For the sake of our children and our sanity, shed the labels and erase the party lines. Let’s stop the finger-pointing and find solutions. Let’s get back using common sense. Let’s get back to the times where people meant more than the right to possess guns. Let’s get back to being caring Americans. More importantly, let’s get back to being human.

I want to successfully usher each of my children into adulthood. I want to experience high school and college graduations. I want to witness the big weddings. I want to see my grandchildren and my great-grandchildren! Those are the things that I, and a whole lot of other parents want. I don’t think it’s too much to ask for.
We just want to live.
We want to get back to the way things use to be.

Sincerely,

Mariann

Where the hell I’ve been all year!

My intentions were to increase the number of blog post that I make every week in 20-13. I thought I’d start this new way of blogging on the first day  of the New Year, but turns out that wasn’t the case.
To my surprise I wasn’t mentally ready to write each and every day, like I thought I was.
What I found out was, I needed to think.
I needed to seriously sit down and think. I needed to reflect on what was going on in my life and all of the thoughts swirling around in my head.
Like most people, seems I have plenty going on. Most of which will make pretty interesting blog posts and discussions.
So, I’m finally organized (which turns out, is KEY!) and I’ve set an agenda for my blogging, as well as for my other writings.

Up first: open letters. Since “open letters” are all the rage, I might as well share a few of mines. I have some penned to my daughters, my sons, the deadbeat dads, my own fabulous mom and dad, fake friends…..just to name a few. This oughta be real interesting, eh?
I’m really looking forward to sharing my undefined, variety filled blog with all of you this year…..and  for many more years to come!

 

 

 

Farewell 2012, its been swell

I did a mental recap of my 2012 and I’ve concluded that my good definitely outweighed my bad. That probably sounds so cliché, but it’s my truth.
I’d actually made myself say a verbal thank you (aloud) for every recollected instance or situation that I’d placed in my “good” column. Close to three hours had passed before I started nearing the end of my good list.
By that time, tears were streaming down my face.  I realized then that I didn’t even have close to enough thank you’s in me to match all of the good that I’d (along with my children) experienced over the course of 2012.
Of course, some unfavorable and not-so-good things happened during the course of the year, but they were so far few and in-between. In no way did they account for much, when I matched them up against everything that I’ve been blessed with.
But instead of focusing on those unfavorable things, I chose (and am continuing to choose) to reflect and energize all of the good positive things. That’s what I want more of!
My life is really good.  I didn’t have a clue of how good it actually was until I challenged myself, the other day, to recollect as much of my good as I could.
Each of our lives are good.
I challenge you to reflect on all of the good that has happened on your behalf and say a few thank you’s. Just watch how innumerable they are! Bet you’ll be amazed, too!

2012 Closing

To all of my loyal, returning, new and 1st-time readers: Thanks for all of your support. I appreciate each of you more than you’ll ever know! I look forward to sharing more of my family’s stories and life happenings with you in the upcoming year. My intentions are to be more consistent as a writer, storyteller and as a reader. So, here’s to us! May our 2013 be filled with abundance, lots of great stories, happiness, meeting of goals, success and PEACE!
Oh 2012! Here is where I bid thee a sweet farewell…..it’s been swell!

From my family

The Littlest Gal!
(One half of the Little’s)

The Littlest Boy
(Remaining half of the Little’s)

The Biggest Gal
(One half of the Big’s)

The Biggest Boy
(Remaining half of the Big’s)

It’s Me!
The Momma!

 

to yours!

Have an extremely

Happy New Year!

See you all in 2013

Mama help me, don’t hinder me

No parent wants to believe or be told that there’s something “wrong” with one of their children. Every parent wants each of their children to be as “normal” as possible. Whatever normal is, that’s what we’re always aiming for.
In my culture and race it’s sort of deemed as “taboo” if your child “needs” medicine just to function and carry out day-to-day activities. If your child is unable to control themselves then you (as the parent) are looked at, as if it’s all your fault.

“You had to do something wrong!”
“Oh! You ain’t raised ’em right!”
“What she/he needs is a good ol’ fashion ass kickin’!”

Growing up I heard over and over again, that “black women” can handle their kids. They don’t need to put them on medicine.
Putting your children on medicine is something that white people did because they don’t know how to raise their kids. They’d rather their kids function like zombies, than to deal with them.
That’s exactly what I grew up believing.
We DON’T put our kids on medicine, period!
From what I could see, it was true.
None of my friends, cousins or any one that I knew needed medicine to behave or function. We all were “normal”.  I didn’t have a clue what a kid needing medication even looked like.
This all held true for me, until I became a mother for the second time.
My oldest daughter was born seven weeks before her due date. In spite of being born early, I still expected her to progress normally, just as her older brother did.
Niave me never considered that she’d be delayed in any way. I was shocked when she didn’t sit-up on her own until she was five months. I was really shocked when she started crawling and walking late.
It wasn’t until she started first grade when I knew for certain, there was definitely an issue (of some sorts) going on with her.
In first grade she wasn’t able to catch on and memorize addition or subtraction facts. She would become overwhelmed then anxiety would be the victor. She’d get frustrated, cry, then eventually she’d shut down.
My solution?
I withdrew her and my son from their Catholic school and opted to home schooled them. I figured, she could learn at her own pace and at the same time, I was hoping that my son’s ability to learn effortlessly would rub off on her. We successfully did the homeschool thing. I was happy with the results.
When I re-enrolled them back into the traditional school setting (a year later), to my surprise the same problems still existed with my daughter. She was still learning at a much slower pace than her peers. She was having great difficulty retaining information,  likely because she preferred to daydream and her attention span was extremely short.
Luckily for me, she was now in a school where each student had their own individual plan for success.
Not only was my daughter given a slower paced plan, but the educators were so patient and extremely supportive of her. We stayed with that school district for five years and for five years my daughter was academically successful.
During those years, I’d managed to successfully smother the “issues” that plagued her.

Last year it all came to a head.
Our move from Michigan, forced me to finally admit that my daughter had some attention/comprehension issues….and they’re much bigger than me!
She was in eighth grade and the new school she was attending was pretty rigorous in their academics. It wasn’t long before she was failing every class.
I tried to devise a learning plan and studying methods for her, but none of them worked. I meet with the counselor and all of her teachers hoping that they’d have a solution, but to no avail. They weren’t the most helpful and they didn’t have any real resources.
I was now backed up against a wall and I didn’t know what to do next.
I called a cousin and sobbed about the entire situation from beginning to end: I couldn’t have a child who wasn’t “normal”. I didn’t want to be the mother who did something “wrong”. I couldn’t be the first in the family to fail at being a mother. I’d come from a long line of strong women, and I didn’t want to be the first weak one.

Calling my cousin was just what I needed. It was just what my daughter needed!
My cousin had just gone through something very similar with one of her daughters. Her daughter is the same age as my daughter. Not only that, they look and act JUST alike.
She, too, was failing all of her tests, quizzes, state exams, etc. She was easily distracted and was always all over the place– unfocused. Her daughter’s confidence had waned, as well. Long story short, she’d gotten her daughter an IEP. Immediately there was a complete turnaround in her academics. She’d become academically successful and her confidence soared through the clouds.
Music to my ears!

No sooner than I’d heard this story, it was like a five ton fourteen year old weight had been lifted off of my shoulders. I actually exhaled the deepest of breaths ever.
Everything that I’d ever learned about needing special accommodations for your children had gone out the window. I was no longer being held hostage by any stigmas or stereotypes.

For the first time (nine months ago) I was finally able to verbalize that my child is unable to be academically successful and socially accepted without the assistance of medication. On her own, she’s unable to focus and concentrate. She’s easily distracted and will completely lose control of herself.

Whew! There! I said it again.

After thirteen years, I’d finally come all the way clean about my daughter’s shortcomings. It took the doctor and psychiatrist several more months to properly diagnose and order a treatment plan for her.
Needless to say, a big change has taken place in all of our lives since treatment began.
First and foremost, “the girl” received an 87 percent and a 92 percent on two major tests. She’d only been undergoing treatment for about a week when she received her first passing test grades. I was so AMAZED! I couldn’t believe that it was working so quickly!

Not only has treatment had a positive affect on her academics, but it’s also been positively affecting her social relationships. She’s much calmer. She’s less stressed and more in control of herself. She’s able to ignore her little brother when he’s being a pest. She’s no longer socially awkward around her peers. She exudes confidence now. This is everything that  I’ve being wanting for her, all of her life!

The Biggest Gal and I at one of many appointments

I feel so badly for cheating my daughter out of her current way of life for so long. If ever I could get a do-over, this would be it. It’s pretty much my only life regret. When I think,  she could’ve been in this  happy space ten years ago, I’m overcome with guilt.
I’ve been told, “Stop blaming yourself! You only did what you were raised up to do.”
I’ve even heard, “Be glad that you realized the error of your ways and corrected it, before it got too late.”
I am grateful for all of that, still it will be quite some time before I no longer feel ‘as’ guilty as I do today.

Too Late Now

No kidding. When I first saw him I knew that he was going to change my life. I had no idea how, but I knew he would, that was February 2001.
December 2003 I gave birth to our son.
That was the day that he officially fell in love with me, and for the first time in thirty years, he was happy. Can you believe that? He’d never known happiness in three decades of “living”.
Witnessing the intensity of labor,
nearly losing consciousness as the epidural was being given,
watching the debut of our son,
cutting the umbilical cord and learning that our baby will indeed be his namesake,
collectively, that allowed him to finally know what it felt like to be happy. If only momentarily and in spurts over the next eight years, he’d finally have his own personal stories of happiness to reflect upon.

Our son would be his first and only (biological) child.
He and I would be the reasons why love and happiness were able to exist in such a damage, hurt and overly guarded space.
For that, we’re eternally grateful.

Many conversations were exchanged between he and I about love and happiness, from the time our son was born up until four days before he perished.
It’s obvious to everyone who knows us, that I loved him from early on and he loved me and our child up until the very end.
A rather unique situation for me. One that I’m sure I’ll never have again.

Last words to me: I’ll always love you for what you’ve given me…
Last words to our son: Always remember your daddy loves you. Alright? Love ya’ boy!

I’ve had  six months to assess, reassess and asses all over again, the relationship that he and I had. It’s completely clear how he changed my life.
I’m able to confirm that I’ve never had any love for anyone (outside of my children, of course!) other than him.
That was the first and only time that I’ve loved someone.

But what good are my words and acknowledging these truths, when he’s not here to hear them?
It’s too late now.