Tomorrow is THE DAY!!!

I'm really excited. Tomorrow is my little big day. Frank and I, and a couple of people from Pilgrim's Progress are making it official. We're getting married! I found a dress, shoes, jewelry, and a hair piece. I ordered a bouquet, and have the marriage license saved in the corner of my dresser drawer. I'm ready to go. This has been an interesting journey. . very interesting. . In 4 months, I've had enough time to get to know Frank and his family, give him time to get to know my family, let go of some of my past hurt, and grow closer to God. I feel good. I feel ready. I still have this thing with my best friend that I'm still trying to figure out, but that's going to be OK. We love each other, and are going to transition once Frank and I have fully settled into our marriage. No worries there. This entire experience has proven to me again and again the love God has for me wherein he could just come into my life at a point when I was not thinking about marriage. . and give me someone that's pretty perfect for me. . Mature, supportive, hard-working, funny, un-selfish. This is going to work. Here we go.

Lead by Example or Shut the Hell Up!

"Move!" That was the statement that started the battle between me and Fiance. He walked over to my 8-year old, who was playing on my iPad and said, "Move!" My son frowned and looked at Fiance and then at me, and I softly said, "He meant excuse me, but move J." Fiance became angered and said, "No, I didn't." Then, it was on. His point: In my home, children can have the entire house, but my bedroom is my oasis. My point: I work hard to teach the boys to be respectful toward me, each other, and everyone else. Talking to them like undoes all my hard work. I'm not backing down. He's on one side of the bed, and I'm on the other, and this is the way it's going to be until he finds it within himself to see things my way. Here's the funny: Today, we went to marriage counseling at the church. And it went well. We smiled, the pastor smiled, and we felt good about being a component of this happy couple. We got done and went about our days and all was good. And at some point we arrived at the point where I heard Frank tell my son, "Move!" and it all went downhill. Well, he didn't EXACTLY apologize, but he gave me what I needed and we are talking again. Lord, help this marriage! I think I can hang on.

My (Short) Journey to the Alter - Part 3: He's Got a Temper

We met a couple of months ago. We were engaged before I had the directions to his house down. We're less than 2 months from tying the knot - if he gets his way - but I will NOT forget that we are still in rehearsal. . But he did. I'm in this. . don't get me wrong. . I've committed to the idea of tying myself to another human being for a lifetime. . But I'm no fool. I'm not going to tie myself to some crazy lunatic who does not have his shit together. ' This evening I saw some qualities that I didn't like. He has a temper. And I don't think I saw all of it. I think he checked himself because (at the last minute) he realized that he was in rehearsal, and had lost some cool points. Mmmmmmmmmmmmmm, yeah Dude. He left. . hopefully to get his head together. When he returns we'll pull it together and get back to this rehearsal. No harm no foul if he plays his cards right. . But these are the moments we need to have because if he was perfect for four months I'd probably chicken out. So, this is good. . I'm OK. But you better believe I'm going to work this incident for all it's worth. . LOL. . Back to rehearsing my lines. . Life is lovely!

My (Short) Journey to the Altar - Part 2: Frank Pops the Question

So, where did I leave off? I was having a bad day, week, month; so I stepped out to Jazzie's my favorite club. I met a jerk who after a few drinks and an apology for being a jerk, actually turned out not to be so bad. And here we go with the rest of the quick timeline recap:

I ended up giving the guy, Frank, my phone number because over the course of the night, he actually turned out to be a gentleman. I gave him a quick interview and determined that he didn't exhibit any stalker tendencies, so that was cool, too.

We met on Saturday (the 1st)- late; and by the end of the night. . or the beginning of the morning (since we met about midnight), Frank professed that he loved me. "Agape love" was how he described it. . and wanted me to be his wife. HA! HA! HA!

Now, I've had guys at the club throw some pretty strong game at me, but seriously. You want to marry me? Well, OK.

We spoke on Sunday, but I limited the discussions because that whole I love you and want to marry you within a couple of hours of meeting you was a bit much.

11/03/11 By Monday, Frank had gotten the message, and backed off on the serious stuff. He went another direction. Since I told him I was going to be rushing home from work to bring my son to baseball practice, he called me on the way home, and told me that he had picked up pizzas for my kids and wanted me to grab them before I headed home.

I swung by Frank's place and picked up the pizza, and he had another surprise: he had purchased an engagement ring, went down on one knee, and proposed. ARE YOU KIDDING ME??!!

You want to push me into freak out mode? Propose one day after I meet you.

But that's Frank. That's how he rolls.. He did that. I was shocked, but I've recovered. . And, now we're engaged. . 7 weeks now. .

Wedding ceremony is scheduled for my birthday next year: October 27, 2012.

But Frank is filled with surprises.. Surprise! We are planning to elope on Valentine's Day: February 14, 2012. More to come on that one. . More to come on this whole journey as it un-folds.

My (Short) Journey to the Altar - Part 1: Meeting Frank

At a point in my life when I wasn't even looking, I met the man that I'm now engaged to. ENGAGED to a man I met about 6 weeks ago. 6 weeks!!! I feel really confident that at some point I'm going to take a breather, and for whatever reason, reflect back on this experience to see exactly how it evolved. So, I'm forcing myself to take a long enough break from working through this situation to actually document my course. Here's a quick timeline recap:

10/1/11:

Having a bad day, week, month, I decided to get all sexy and step out to Jazzie's. I needed a drink. I needed a self-esteem booster. I just needed to interact with adults.

As soon as I pulled into a parking spot, the guy with the BMW parked next to me shouted, "Do NOT scratch my car!" I was having a bad day, but decided that it was probably better to bite my tongue until I got a drink, so I let the guy make it. I got out of my car, and went around to the other side to retrieve my trench coat and purse, and again, the guy shouted out, "Do NOT scratch my car!". . Now, I'm agitated.. I mean, I just let him make it.. But, again, I held my tongue, got my stuff out of the car, and walked up to the door of the club. . with this guy right behind me. .

When I had approached the door, I stood there for a second waiting for this guy to do what I was accustomed to doing - hold the door, so I could walk in - and after about 15 awkward seconds, I realized that he wouldn't. Uuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuugh, is he insane? Ok. Well whatever.

As soon as I got into the club, I told James Hill, the guy who worked the door about the jerk who was tripping over his car AND did not hold the door. I was SO pisst.

Well, anyway, the jerk went his way and I went mine. . My way was near the door, in the corner. I vented to James about how crappy my day, week, month was and he started sending me drinks. . strawberry daiquiris. . lots and lots of strawberry daiquiris.. that I sipped on all night. Before I could even drink a whole one, another one would come, so I really could not tell you how many I drank. Pretty quickly, I forgot about how badly my day, week, month had been or how big of a jerk the guy I met in the parking lot was. The night was going much better. . So, at some point I decided to head out to the dance floor.

And then it happened, I was approached by the jerk from the parking lot. Of course, at this point, he didn't look so jerky. He actually looked pretty nice looking. But that was not going to stop this me from getting an apology. I would get an apology. I was on tonight, and he approached me like it didn't matter.

So, jerk asked me to dance.. But before he would, I made him apologize. "So, you're the guy who was tripping in the parking lot, and then did not hold the door?!! Are you kidding me?!!" He apologized, and it was over. Well, sort of..

The Most Difficult Conversation with a 10 year old: Why Daddy had to leave

Three years ago I made the decision to let go of the man I had spent 14 years building a life with. It was a decision I made over the course of two years; battling with myself and those close to me who saw the destruction the relationship was creating in my life and in my spirit. It was really awful in the end. But it's over, and I'm happier.

But my children are not.

In fact, for 3 years, my 10 year old son has been unhappy, frustrated, violent, ill-mannered. I have gone through bouts of worrying and praying, that still have not ended.

But on Monday, I made some gains.

I dropped Jordan off at basedball practice at 6pm. He struggled with his huge bag of bats, balls, gloves, and stuff. But insisted on getting to the field with all his stuff all by himself. Ok, that's usual.

At 6:30pm, Jordan called and said he was ready to be picked up from practice. . Hmmmmmmmmmm. short practice, but OK.

I picked Jordan up, but noticed that the other kids and coaches were still on the field, so I asked Jordan what the deal was. He started to cry and told me that the coach made him sit in the dugout because his attitude was bad. {This is a very familiar and long story.} I started to just nod my head and drive off, but couldn't resist digging deeper. I pulled my car into the nearest parking lot and started tallking to Jordan about what happened, and ended up insisting that he go back to the coach and give him a heartfelt apology.

Well, when you're young, and hot-headed, that's pretty much the last thing you wanna do. But I stood my ground, and I made him do it. Then, he returned to the car, stone faced and stared out the window.

I'm desperate to figure out how to get through my son, so I started asking him questions: "What's wrong?" Nothing. "Are you sad?" Yes. "Did someone hurt you?" No. "You know you can talk to me, right?" Yes. "Did someone touch you." No. "Do you need more attention?" No. "You know I love you right?" No.

OK. This is madness. I was determined to get to the root of why my sweet boy was so sad and mean right now.

I drove the remaining 1.5 minute to the house in silence. But as soon as we arrived at the house, I told Jordan to come to my room and closed the door. I sat him on the bed, forced him to look me in the eye, and asked him the question I've avoided asking for three years. "Are you sad that your Daddy is not here?"

And then it happened. He cracked. He started crying. . softy at first. . then he started to moan. . and rolled up inyp the fetal position on the floor. . moaning. . as if I had kicked him in the gut really hard.

I melted to the floor beside Jordan, picked him up in my arms, stroked his hair, held him close to me, and we cried. . for about 30 minutes. . We both cried. . Once he stopped moaning and starting sobbing, and I had caught my breath enough to complete a sentence, I asked my 10 year old if I could talk to him like a big boy.

When he agreed, I told him the best way I knew how that me and his dad were really sad when we were together. He was a good boy, and had nothing to do with our decision to part ways. And that we were sad that we couldn't make things work just for him, because we loved him SO much, but we couldn't. And that sometimes, I'm sad that his dad is not there, too.

That discussion took so much out of me. It was so hard to hear in my child's voice the pain our decision had caused him. This was the opposite of what I wanted to accomplish by the split. I hoped and prayed that we split in time to protect our kids from the hurt, sadness, and meanness that we were wrapped up in at the end. But it appears that I failed.

After I gave Jordan the big boy talk, I asked him if it would be OK if he, me and his Dad sat down this week and talked through what we could do to make his life better. And he smiled. He smiled! This child who had not really smiled from ANYTHING I had said for 3 years, looked at me with tears in his eyes and the most genuine smile I had ever seen. . Again, I cried because in that smile I felt joy.

I called The Ex, and I told him about my convo with Jordan, and he's a good Dad, so he said all the right things. I'm going to continue to pray - I'll never stop. And now I already feel like God has started changing things for the best. I feel like I've gotten my son back.

Jordan didn't just smile when I told him about the Big Boy talk we would have with his dad, he's been smiling ever since. He's 10. I know he will not hold on to this smile for much longer. But God got me through the most difficult conversation you can have with a 10 year old boy: why daddy had to leave, and I know he won't fail me now.

Thank you Jesus!

Just Wow! What did I do to deserve this child?

The last time I blogged I was in so much pain. . I did not know another way to lay down my cross than to blog, pray, cry, wake up, and continue on with my day.

It was so painful, I hadn't even been able to return to my own blog for fear I would see the post. But I've been inspired by the most beautiful essay I've ever read. This essay is the result of an assignment my teenage daughter was working on. She used my work computer to type it, so I found it as I was shutting down for the day, saved in a folder that I never use.

I read it and cried because I was so touched. I thought I would share it to give hope to other parents raising children, who aren't sure whether their child knows how hard they're working to do right by them. . Here goes:

The Strength of My Mother
Never have I claimed to be a perfect daughter, because God certainly didn’t make me that way, but I haven’t always strived to be either. I wake up every day asking “How has my mother had so much patience with raising me as a single mother over these years?” My mother is defined by me as my heart. I would not be where I am today if it weren’t for her. Unfortunately, I know I haven’t been easy to raise. I’ve watched her cry, scream, and hurt because of me, and I live with the fact that I can never take any of that back.
My mother’s name is Anasthia Johnson. She became a single mother at the age of barely eighteen. She moved to Arkansas from where she was originally from, Texas, fear of my father finding out a bad decision she’d made while he was in prison when I was only one. With intensions on starting a better life for me, she’d planned on going to the Air Force, but soon changed her mind once she realized how long she would be away from me for basic training. She worked at McDonalds, Sam’s, and other hourly jobs years before enrolling into college and earning two degrees. My mother did her best to spoil me throughout my life, before and after she earned her degrees and career.

Johnson 2
My mother has obviously always been hard-working and dedicated. She has the same worth ethic when it comes to raising her children. Before I entered into this world, she promised me she would never give up on me, and still she hasn’t. I’ve literally given her hell, and she still sticks by my side, and supports me-flaws and all. My mother has always seen what I can become. She’s always loved me for me, even when I didn’t love myself. She’s pushed me to be the greatest I can be in every aspect. I haven’t always understood the punishments she’s bestowed upon me, but they always have a positive outcome because she understands me and knows what’s best.
I’ve made so many mistakes in my life, just in the past three years, I don’t blame my mother is she disowned me today, but I know that she loves me enough to never leave me. She’s has taken and hidden so much pain from me, and I have caused so much pain to her, it makes me ashamed. I hate to her cry, but I’ve been the cause of her crying repeatedly. The first time I hurt her, I was caught with a boy in the house. I took me over a year to understand why she was “tripping” so much over it, but I came to understand that I had brought a stranger, to her comfort area, the place where she pays bills, and controls every aspect of living. It took months, years for her to forgive me, but still she did.
My mother is the most passionate woman I know. She loved me so deeply, when she tells me, my heart melts, because I know she means it and shows it every day. I know one of us will have to let each other go when God calls us home, so I hope it’ll be me letting her go because I would hate for her to be on this earth without her seed. No more will she shed a tear from my ignorance. “Mother, you’re everything love can give to a child.”- Erica Johnson