A Cup of Tea With Me

Last night I was at work. One of my neighbors, a young man who works next to me that we have just started being friendly to each other, came over to say “hi”. It was terribly slow so, I had my Bible out, and I was reading the Psalms. He asked what I was reading, so I showed him. I did not go into detail, because he is Muslim and having several Muslim friends, I have a respect for their beliefs. — Several of my Muslim friends and I can carry on healthy discussions about our religions, the differences, why we believe, and so forth, without it getting ugly. — I want to point out right now, I have a few Muslim readers, and a few Pagan readers. I am not bashing Muslims. We have to have a healthy respect for each other to be able to talk to one another.

Once this young man learned I was a Christian, he started talking very negatively about my family. In particular, my oldest son. He told me that he could tell me my son did drugs, just by the clothes he wore, and that I needed to be a better parent and raise my kids more like he was raised!?!?!

I (not so) politely pointed out that I was a recovered drug addict. My brother did drugs for almost 20 years. I KNOW what a drug addict looks like and I KNOW what a drug addict ACTS like. Yes, my son dresses like an individual, but that does not mean that he does drugs! Moosey and I have a VERY open relationship about drugs and drug use. He knows that I was addicted. He knows that I almost died from a crystal meth OD. He knows these things. He is not going to be stupid enough to try to do these things.

Moosey has a friend. This friend came to the mall, ‘tweaking’ one day. I pointed it out to Moosey. He tried to tell me that was just the way the guy was. I pointed out some of the more obvious factors and he said, “You know what, mom, you are right, that is a bit worse than it usually is.” He KNOWS I know what I am talking about when it comes to this, and he knows he will not be able to sneak it by me.

I cannot believe this young man (a high school junior), was telling me how to raise my kids. I know I am not perfect, I know that I need help in some areas, but telling me my kid is on drugs, when I know he is not is not even just a little bit cool! Moosey has had his run in with drugs, in Jr. High and another childs ADD meds. He has learned a valuable lesson and I do not think he will repeat that mistake, while still living my my home. He may forget his morals and my ideals when he gets out on his own… but I have three years or so to worry about that one.

Sorry for the vent. I just had to share.

*EDIT* I need to point out that this guy and my son go to different High Schools and he has never even spoken to my son.

The past week and a half have been crazy.

Last Monday, I started feeling ill. My throat was hurting very bad. I looked and my tonsils were swollen. Um, I have had them both removed… TWICE.

Last Tuesday, my boss was out of town. I went to work, running a high fever and with a sore throat. When a friend asked me what was wrong, I started crying and told them “I want my mommy.” :thud: I am 37 years old and still want my mom when I am sick. I called the other employee and she came in to let me go home. I went to the dr office. Was told I had a “bug” and that was it. Given an antibiotic.

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for (insert random gift giving occasion here).” Every occasion, I am asked this question. Every occasion I am asked to make a “list”. Every occasion 90% of the list is exactly the same. Maybe I should just type it up and laminate it, ya think? How hard can it be? I collect things. You know what is around the house. You live here, too. Well, there are always pretty tea pots at Hobby Lobby. You can find something with moose on it. They are not that hard to find.

Do not get me wrong. The gifts do not make the occasion. I would rather not make a list, let them get me what they want to get me, something from their heart.

One year, my youngest was 3 and he saw a pretty pink toothbrush. That is what he wanted to get me for my Christmas present that year. I loved that toothbrush and used it. That toothbrush was from his heart. He wanted to get it for me. He thought of me when he saw it.

I miss spontaneous gifts. They do not have to be huge or expensive, just something from the heart. Something that makes you think of me.

*EDIT* Even a handwritten note saying simply “Happy Birthday!” would mean the world to me. It is not the gift it is what is in the heart.

Sorry for the rant. You all probably wish I would go back to keeping things bottled in. LOL!

Most people I know have a hard time turning 40 or even 39. My family, it seems to be 39. For some reason for me it is 37. I am dreading this day.

Last night my sister made me a wonderful dinner. I loved it. She even had cake & ice cream and party favors! Do you realize how long it has been since I have had a party like that. It was so great! Thank you, Valorie! I love ya, sis!

I have to go get ready for work today. Not that I want to go today, but I just would rather sleep today.

Yes, my moodiness is out there for the whole world to read.

The Dr office just called. They had a mess up on 2 of my blood tests, so I am back out the door to get my blood taken AGAIN. Oh well, maybe we will have answers soon.

I turn 37 tomorrow, and I am having a hard time with it. 37 and already (most likely) have arthritis in my hips. Oh well, God’s will be done!

While I am out, I am going to Face Logic and getting a facial. OOOOH! I cannot wait. My mom gave me a gift certificate to there for my birthday.

I was just given a lecture on my opinions on medications for conditions such as Bi-Polar and depression. In case you do not know, I am anti-medication. If you take meds for conditions like that, that is your choice. Just because I choose not to take medications that make me violently ill, or mess with my heart, does not mean that I do not think that everyone should make the choice I made. It is all about the choices we make.

When I have suffered from depression and was suicidal, I had choices to make every morning when I woke up. (Please remember that the last time I was that depressed, I was not walking with the Lord.)

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