Falling Into Place

Things are looking up.

A new church has really made a difference for me. I went to a Women's Conference and felt very connected. Connected like at PWOC. I talked to all kinds of women from all different points in their lives and ages. It was an amazing feeling to be surrounded by amazing women and knowing that we all came to this conference to grow.

As I sat there watching the video and taking notes I felt things falling into place.

I talked to many women who were also members of the YMCA in town. I felt confirmation and encouraged. I began to realize that I could share my fitness journey and my spiritual journey while combining the two.

Today after church I signed up for two more Bible studies.

My new schedule will look something like this:

Monday: Daughter early morning speech, school work, lunch crunch gym, afternoon 30 mile away son's speech, light supper and an evening gym class.
Tuesday: Bible study, afternoon RIPPED Class
Wednesday is my daughter's early morning speech and then lunch crush and then pick up son cook dinner and make it to church for a Bible study.
Thursday is an early morning gym class and a later Zumba class
Friday is still being worked on but early morning class for sure
Saturdays are no gym probably going to be our free day and Sundays will be church but depending on how fast I can get the kids home changed and back to the gym, they may do small classes and I'll use my time to work on school work.

It will be a full schedule. It will require discipline and dedication. It will mean dragging my kids back and forth from the gym the school the house the church. But this will also mean that time is flying and before we know it our temporary stay in this tiny town will be drawing to a close.

Sticking to this schedule means that all three of us will sleep very well at the end of the day. I will be well on my way to my goal of growing closer to God, that is if I don't doze off in class....just kidding! It also means I am following through with my fitness goals.

I will have opportunities to connect with many different women in two very different situations. I am finally feeling like I can stay in this town. That it isn't so different from what I want or can deal with. I think if I stay in my little gym, church, Kroger, house routine we just might make it through this. I know that cannot possibly happen, and besides how on earth would I grow my Essential Oils business my doing that?

So a few funnies to throw in here to show just how my life is really a running sitcom of nonsense some days.

I put my not really into the whole potty training thing on the potty and tell her to go pee she promptly goes "SSSSSSS" making the pee sound with her mouth and then slides off the potty telling me she was done after not having gone pee. Of course ten minutes later she come to tell me that she peed in her pants.

My son has this new thing were he randomly tells me that he loves me and I am his favorite mom or his best mom. So then I think "Aren't I the only mom? Do I need to talk to the hubby?"

And while I was at the Sunday Bible study I left the kids with Granddad. Granddad takes a nap wakes up and realizes the kids were really quiet. My daughter is asleep! He just leaves her that way. So I get home at six and she is sleeping. Then he begins to help me with my history paper, thinks he should go check on her around 8 and tries to say her name! Umm nope! I went in my bedroom where she was sleeping to put on my jammies and smell poop. So now I am faced with the horrible dilemma of changing her or leaving her and sleeping on the couch. And of course she happily wakes up at 9, just as I am trying to get my son into bed. It will be a long night, and yes, I to am wondering how tomorrows schedule will play out.

While at the Bible study I found clarification for this blog. It is going to be the humorous and sometimes darker humor of a Christian Mommy working through each day to day struggle. Some days it may not be a writing day, and other days may be a ton of writing, but wherever it goes, it is because I am following my heart and where I feel God is leading me.

January 10 2016

Jeremiah 29:11 For I know the plans I have for you, declares the Lord, plans to prosper you and not to harm you, plans to give you hope and a future.

Finally a Good History Paper

I have been struggling with my United States History class and it was beginning to look like I might not make it through with a passing grade. After another sad grade I called my dad and asked him if he could help me come up with something. This is the paper we wrote. It isn't great, but at least I made an 85.

STEPHEN COLLINS FOSTER: America’s First Composer

          The Instructions for the Unit VII essay were to write on one character from the lecture. In the lecture minstrel performance is mentioned in passing. I believe its importance should not be overlooked. I would like to do my paper on a famous (and genius) minstrel writer named Stephen Collins Foster and explain his importance. To reject minstrel performance in the early 1800’s is like rejecting Will Rogers and Woody Guthrie during the Great Depression or Jimi Hendrix and Joan Baez during the Vietnam Era.

We all tire of long speeches but songs stay in our heads. Stephen Collins Foster gave feelings to the situation. His songs gave humanity to the enslaved Negro. In his day all voters were white but one might go the polls with remembrance of a “ditty” fresh on his mind.

During the 1840s Parlor Music was music performed by women in their homes, Minstrel Music was the opposite of that. Minstrel music was for men, it covered popular events and used slang and bad language. Minstrel music was made popular by Thomas “Daddy” Rice when he blackened his face and began performing “Jumped Jim Crow” in New York in 1828. This would lead the way for Stephen Collins Foster, who became an inspiration for future American Songwriters.

Black faced minstrels also helped to feed the stereotype of the Negro being a dumb less than human persona. It fed the fears of the Negro being freed. This was a bawdy comedy that was performed at the expense of the Negro.

When Stephen Collins Foster left Pittsburg to work as a bookkeeper in Cincinnati he had already had success with a parlor song called “Open Thy Lattice Love” But he was attracted to the energy of the minstrel music and shows. Once settled in, he wrote his first Blackface Minstrel songs.  They were performed by the Christy Minstrels and other groups and became quite popular. His first successful songs were “Oh Susanna”, “Lou’siana Bell”, and “Uncle Ned.

These songs and many others spread quickly across the country.  “Oh Susanna “Became popular during the Gold Rush. “Uncle Ned “could be heard in concert halls in England.    

I am Stephen Collins Foster. I was born in Lawrenceville Pennsylvania, which is now part of Pittsburg. My parents are William and Elizabeth Foster. My father helped found Lawrenceville Pennsylvania. He also dedicated land for the burial of soldiers from the War of 1812, and helped equip Colonel Andrew Jackson’s men for the Battle of New Orleans in 1814. He did lose a lot of his wealth, but was till appointed to public office. My father also served under James Buchanan in the House of Representatives and went on to be the Mayor of Allegheny City, which is now Pittsburg’s North Side.

My family was not necessarily musically inclined, but my older sister Charlotte would sing and play parlor music on the piano. She died when I was three years old. I count her as one of my inspirations to become a song writer.

I did receive a good education, though I didn’t always agree with the direction my father was pushing me toward. I wanted to work with music, but during this time, it wasn’t a job fitting for a middle class man. My parent’s failed to recognize my talent and even I in later years did not realize my full potential. This led me to sell my music for far less than it was worth and made me a poor man. I did work for my brother as a bookkeeper in his steamboat business, but after three years I returned to Pennsylvania to focus on my music.

In 1850 I marred Jane Denny McDowell. We had one daughter named Marion. Due to my focus on my music, I did not spend much time with my wife and daughter. They did join me several times in New York when I was living there and working on music, and I did take a trip down the Mississippi river with my wife to see New Orleans. This was the only time I went into the Deep South, before this I had only been to Kentucky. 

I realized early on that the key to obtaining an audience for my songs and my message was on the minstrel stage. “Oh Susanna” was my first successful song to be performed. The Christy Minstrel performed “Oh Susanna” and made it popular. I only made $100 off of this song, and I realized that this was not a success, as much as it was a letdown.  I did realize after this sale that I could be a songwriter.

I studied music and language. I spent a lot of time around immigrant communities so I could learn about their style. It was my goal to write songs that everyone could relate to. Many of my songs will be passed on to future generations. My song “Sewanee River” will one day be deemed politically incorrect.

I was ahead of my time in this area. There were no real copyright laws or rights for artists. I quit my book keeping job and returned to New York. I signed a contract with Firth, Pond, and Co, which was a New York Publishing Company, on December 3, 1849.

Unfortunately I was never made rich by my songs. I made rash decisions when selling them and often sold them for far less than they were worth. This was a contributing factor in why my wife left me.

 

First Editorial Response by Stephen Collins Foster

Pittsburgh is a political hot bed for abolitionist activities and figures. My close friend Charles Shiras is a leader in this movement. He was inspired by William Lloyd Garrison and Fredrick Douglas, both of which made appearances in Pittsburgh. He began a newspaper that ran a series of antislavery articles. Together we wrote a song and this song was never published.

Because I have not really traveled to the Deep South and seen firsthand slavery up close, I do not really know the full impact it would have to free the slaves. I feel like it is wrong to hold another human being in bondage against their will. It is through my music that I try to explain that to the white population. It is my deepest wish that my songs are performed true to how they would sound coming from the lips of the Negro.

It is obvious to me that the Negro, though enslaved and owned like an animal, is human. He walks like a human being. He talks like a human being. And, when his family is sold away from him, or him from them, I am sure that he feels the same human sorrow as would a white man in this same situation. When my songs are not humorous (“Camp Town Racism”) or romantic (“I dream of Jeanie with the Long Brown Hair”), they often deal with sad human issues that are often forced upon the Negro. He is helpless due to his low status. Yet he is human.

If he is was in his African home he would raise his family according to moral standards that fit his situation. He might even participate in a government though simple by our standards.

SECOND EDITORIAL BY STEPHEN COLLINS FOSTER

While I have utmost sympathy for the enslaved black man, I am aware of how abolition of slavery would affect the poor white man. The poor white man, though he does not own a slave could be adversely affected by the abolition of slavery.

            I was born modestly well off but my family’s finances were always in a state of flux, up sometimes and hovering just above the poverty line at other, this despite him holding public office. I was close enough to that line to see the devastation wrought upon a family when a breadwinner loses his employment or his health, which his employment depends upon. One might fear that a free black man might leave the farm or plantation to seek work in the city. If the black man were to do this it could be another threat to a white man’s livelihood.

            We cannot also discount the unrealistic fear of the poor white man that the “inferior” black man, if free, could move into the poor white man’s neighborhood and mix his genes with the gene pool, namely, his sons and daughters.

            I understand the fears of my white peers about how the Negro being freed could cause social friction, but I feel like this is something that is humanly right to do. There is a fear that in the South the social order might be up-ended.

            If we free the Negros, do we also let them vote? If they vote and outnumber us do we get black lawmakers who enslave us? Do we get laws that steal our heritage from our children? We would hope black electors would be as honest as white electors, but if we have stolen their heritage where is our complaint if they steal ours.

 

CONCLUSION

Stephen Collins Foster was the Simon and Garfunkel of his day. He was a self-musician who taught America about itself. During his lifetime he was never fully credited for his contributions to American Culture.

On January 13, 1864 he died in New York City. He was estranged from his wife and daughter and penniless. He had only 38 cents in his pocket.

 

REFERENCES

 

http://www.pbs.org/wgbh/amex/foster/peopleevents/p_sfoster.html

 http://explorepahistory.com/hmarker.php?markerId

www.nndb.com/phtteople/

<http://www.songwritershalloffame.org/exhibits/bio/C10>

 

Deane L. Root. "Foster, Stephen";

http://www.anb.org/articles/18/18-00415.html;

American National Biography Online Feb. 2000.

Access Date: Fri Jan 01 2016 20:56:23 GMT-0600 (Central Standard Time)

Stephen Foster. (2016). In Encyclopædia Britannica. Retrieved from http://www.britannica.com/biography/Stephen-Foster

 

 

 

 

Day 2: The Fitness Journey

At 5:30 a.m. I was awake and ready to go.
I jumped into the shower and began to get things in order for my journey to the gym.

The plan was drop my son off at the school and then my sister and I would head to the gym. It went flawlessly.

We walked and ran on the track. We used the elliptical machine, we did the stationary bike, we walked and ran some more.

Conversation and hopes flowed forth.

I spent some of the day at the grocery store and then at home I took a nap while my daughter watched princess movies.

After picking up my son, I headed back to the gym for the RIPPED Class.

It was an amazing full body work out.

I struggled with some of the moves simply because I have never been able to do coordinated dance or exercise moves.

The modified pushups nearly did me in.

The jumping was hard on my bladder, I am fairly certain I was leaking just a tiny bit.

My face was flushed and sweat was running down my body.

By the end of the class I felt so happy. I survived! I did a class that I thought might be too hard for me and I want to return.

After class I walked on the track again.

I'm home, supper, homework, and baths all done. I'm relaxing and trying to keep my eyes open.

January 5, 2016

Romans 8:28 And we know that all things work together for good to them that love God, to them who are the called according to his purpose.

Pondering

It is nearly the witching hour and here I sit.


My mind is full of the study guide I just read for my class.


I need to sleep, yet not ready to let the dreams claim me.


I'm cringing on the inside and tiny bit ashamed at my horrible eating habits this week. Already I have eaten out at really fatty places three times this week, with one more tomorrow.


It's been a good week.


A lot of great meetings with great people and one more to come tomorrow. I am making myself go because I seriously need to get the kids and I out a lot more. I also need to spend this time with another churchgoer so that maybe I can find my way back.


My daily prayer is that God will shine his light into the deep darkness that is shrouding my life. That the skies will clear and like a cold winter's night I will hear his voice echoing across the sky.


I used to hear his voice,


that is when I listened only to gospel music.


Read my Bible every single day sometimes multiple times.


Things started to shift when my daughter was born. The world began to tilt a bit to the side.


Now it is completely upside down.


I have all that I need, I try to pass the blessings on. I strive to be a better person each day.


Like the Pastor at church said it is the darkness inside of us that we are afraid to forgive. We forgive those who wronged us but not us. I am confused on this point, have I truly asked for redemption. Gotten down to nothing and cried out like Job? I am not sure.


Why cannot I answer this question that plagues me so? Am I going to Heaven or Hell.


I love God, my kids my husband my friends my family.


What have I done wrong and why is the gate on that narrow path swinging back and forth?


Will I find the peace that I so desperately seek before it is too late?


Lord be with me as I walk through the valley of the shadow of death....


No I am not suicidal, this is actually one of my favorites Psalm 23, it reminds me of walking through the valley knowing you are alone but God is going to guide you and bring you back into the light.


I always read the Psalms starting at 23.


That is true comfort.


B. Alwildia Garcia


December 29, 2015

Sunday Morning Meltdown

It began innocently enough.
All were fed and clothed and just about ready to pack the diaper bag, and that is when tragedy struck.
No it wasn't a toddler meltdown, it was a Mommy meltdown.

My six year old son had absolutely no idea where his glasses were. I was in a state of dressed, but needing hair and make up. A diaper bag to pack, a Mommy bag to shove stuff into and shoes on both kids.

We systematically began to tear through the house. I am screaming and raging and cursing, yes, I said cursing. It was an ugly site to see and sound to hear. All this before we were to load up the van and head to church.

I was raging mad and feeling so down because I knew I had a rocking outfit all thrown together but my time for making my face and hair presentable was slipping away. I tried to pull myself back, slathering on my essential oils as I am rampaging through the house.

It was no use

A phone call to my Dad in hopes he could calm the dragon raging forth from my soul. But it was of no use, unstoppable is what I was. I wanted so badly to cry, but no tears would come.

Again I am back to the square of the question "Why does my son respond to so much as if he were Autistic", but no one can see this? I carried on about this for many precious minutes.

Finally I am slapping on my nearly destroyed mascara that my three year old was kind enough to use as a magic marker yesterday, slap on lip gloss and hope the concealer and powder would do the trick.

Dress, boots, light jacket, I'm ready.

Kids loaded, my son has red puffy crying his heart out eyes

My daughter pretty much oblivious to my mood, still laughing and driving me batty.

We make it to church only to encounter a new sign in system just mere minutes before service is to start. I consider handing back my program and walking out the door and heading over to my previous church. Somehow I manage to inhale enough patchouli and lavender to convince myself that this would be a horrible idea.

By the time I get my son up the stairs to the balcony the lights are off and the service has begun. I was calmed somewhat to see that they would be singing "Victory in Jesus" Which I know all about belting it out in a loud off key Pentecostal style. And you guessed it, they weren't singing that song in a hurry, but rather very slow, so my off key belting out of the lyrics sounded even worse, but hey I was there, I was worshiping and I was trying to focus on God not missing glasses and kids that may or may not be Autistic.

Service was great and then it is time to go home. I want to take the kids to the new YMCA for the Princess Tea and Superhero Adventure, but my Dad was here ready to help me look for the glasses again.

He spent an hour before I got here looking in my house and my car and going to the stores we had been at the previous day. No glasses, not for me, not for him, not for me any of the other times I looked the rest of the day.

I did manage to get the kids to their destinations despite a non listening little girl and a little boy who was pretty sure his Mama had turned into a demon.

I worked on a school paper for an hour while they played in a room with other kids and other adults.

Home again I took a nap let them play and when I woke up I got mad all over again. I called my Dad again and lamented all my failings as a mom who is trying to parent two kids do online school find time to work out and cook healthy meals ALONE. Yep, they ate fast food tonight due to that hour long rant.

Then I settled on the couch again.

One entire day has passed and the glasses are still lost.

I did wash every single bed and couch linen in the house though. And thanks to lost glasses two loads of laundry managed to be put away. I was also able to sweep behind pieces of furniture that hadn't been moved in three months and clean off two surfaces in my bedroom.

That is my positive.

I am still frustrated and sad and angry and feeling lost and alone, but I will get over it, after all, what else is there to do?

Even my husband tried to downplay the seriousness of the situation because he could tell that at least two hinges had come off the door of my sanity and this is not the time for me to be unhinged.

My dear friend told me to get some ice cream and add a lot of Kahlua, I haven't yet, but it sure is tempting.

Somehow in all of this madness I did manage to have a fairly good day.

I am just really upset that I somehow let my son's glasses get lost, but I can keep up with every single piece to the stupid Minnie Mouse kitchen my daughter got from Santa.

Yes, God will see me through, and yes I should have asked God for guidance this morning. I should not have let my kids see me raving mad and foaming at the mouth over glasses and whatever else was causing me issues. Like the dog crapping in my son's bedroom this morning.

As I am chasing said dog around the living room with a toilet paper handful of dog crap my son is asking me to be nice to the dog. I was very nice I crammed his crap in his furry face and kicked him outside in the sunny thirty degree weather for about thirty minutes. That my friend should fix the problem of the pooping in the house Chihuahua.

Please my friends do far better than I have. I know that my husband's absence does not make it okay to go stark raving mad. Not even if my Dad is trying to tell me it is a perfectly acceptable excuse. I own my horrible non mommy and God fearing behavior. I only hope that God can forgive me for dropping the f'bomb many times on his day, just before grabbing my Bible and heading out the door.

Yes, I really do need to let go and let God. I really do.

January 3, 2016

Psalm 91:2 I will say of the Lord, he is my refuge and my fortress: my God; in him will I trust.

I will strive to do this as another one of my New Year's Resolutions.

New Year's Resolutions 2016

My resolutions are pretty simple. Just small things that I want to accomplish that will lead me into a much healthier future.


Resolution #1 to actually utilize and make headway at the local YMCA. I joined, I have the class schedule and I am interested. I am already looking at my calendar trying to find ways to tweak it so that it allows more time for exercise. There are classes for my daughter during the day, so this will also benefit her. I love three of the Sunday classes for my kids, so if nothing else I can sit and use my computer there and actually do homework in peace or I can work out. Part B of this is to document my journey through this blog.


Resolution #2 To find my way back to the church. Once I could hear God talking to me. I knew I was walking with him. I slipped up for a little bit, but once I listened I could still hear God's voice. Over the last few years it has grown so faint I cannot hear it. I know it is still there, I know that I need redemption and I am to find it. I am doing the First Baptist Church Bible Reading Plan for 2016.
Today's verse was Psalm 1-2 But his delight is in the law of the Lord; and in his law doth he meditate day and night. This is my goal. I can do this and it will benefit not only me, but my entire family.


Resolution #3 I must get my daughter to potty train by the end of May. I am tired of the stinky diapers and cost. I am ready for this phase to be completely over. She is my last child, so once I get past this phase, it is done until much later I am blessed as a grandmother.


Resolution #4 Is to improve my time and do more 5ks. I want to do these not only to improve my stamina and health but to give money to charities


Resolution #5 is to do at least one craft a month with my kids. This will be something we will send either to my husband, my mom, an aunt, or even my dad's girlfriend.


Resolution #6 is to become an even better baker than I am. I also want to share more of my creations with those in need. I am going to find a way to connect with those who are experiencing a tough time in their life and bake something for them.


Resolution #7 Is to build my business. To get it to be more self sustaining and to share my oils with many more people. To finally find my confidence and my push.


Resolution #8 Is to be a more patient and understanding person in all situations.


My biggest goal is to make 2016 count. This will be a year spent almost entirely with my kids only. I am not going to dwell on that, but rather on improving my faults before he returns. To give my life completely back to God and to become the person he would have me to be.


 I am a wife and a mother. I am a daughter and a sister. I intend to make each relationship better. To repair and grow those that are broken. To strengthen each of them.


Make this year count. Give it your all. Focus on the positive. Leave the negative behind.


January 1, 2015








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Reflections Upon 2015

2015 was a good year.

We lived it to the fullest.

We even adopted a Chihuahua. 

The kitchen became the center of our home, where we created food together.

 

A free zoo membership gifted to us made it possible to go to the zoo a lot.

There were ups and downs. Arguments and deep discussions. A time to frown and many times to smile. Together we became more of a team. Since 2010, this was the longest time my husband and I had lived together in the same house as a Mother/Father unit. j

September 2013 we were united, in October 2015 we had to say see ya later and let Facetime become our method of communication.


During 2015 we lived in El Paso on a military installation. We came to see the benefits this afforded us. It was a true blessing and an experience we carry with us in our hearts. We lived in a town home that was the biggest house I had ever lived in.


We went on a second marriage retreat, again to Albuquerque. It was a lovely weekend where we met some great people.

I joined a Bible Study called Protestant Women of Christ. This was a great experience for me.


The kids and our little dog loved taking walks around the neighborhood and going to the playground. It was nice to live with a  big city all around you, yet be separate.


My husband was home just about every single night. Gate Guard was a difficult time for us. We truly learned to live in the moment.


All of 2015 was spent doing everything that could be done as a family. A time to focus on us. To make memories that would carry us through the upcoming separation.


I have no regrets.


This was by far one of the best years I have ever had.


I am truly blessed to be loved by my husband and to be called mom by such amazing kids.


January 1 2016