The random misadventures of a (formerly)Single Super Mom

I'll admit it.  I am addicted to the grocery store.  I absolutely love grocery shopping above almost any other kind of shopping except shoe shopping.  (But that's another story).  I always hear people complaining about going grocery shopping, taking the kids grocery shopping, dreading grocery shopping; but I can honestly say that I have never experienced that feeling in my life.  If grocery shopping could be a part time job; I would so do that for someone.  From the moment I put my hands on a shopping cart I feel a rush of endorphins.  It's a sense of pure happiness.  Even if I was only there to purchase a pack of gum, I would wander the aisles all day.  Looking at every bit of exotic produce, different types of bakery items, tasting samples, and peering in the deli case.  Walking into the wine section and looking at the different brands, types, countries of origin, and fascinated by the ones that have unique or beautiful bottles....

There have been many many times in my life where I just think "Lord? I'm not sure how strong I am and how much more I can take." When I moved across the country as a young bride and ended up on a military base alone. No car, no friends, no job. Somehow I overcame.  Moving to North Carolina by myself sight unseen with a 12 week old child and a 3 year old. No friends, no job, no idea what this place held. But again, let's do this. When my ex husband sent me an email asking for a divorce and telling me that I needed to find a job after being a stay at home mom for 5 years. Okay, well let's do what has to be done. When my family went through the worst thing that any family could imagine, and it forever changed the relationship between my children and their father, we made it through. We are fighting the battle of the unknown disease with my daughter. But we don't give up. But when you fight for everything, always try to keep your head high and do unto others, when...

Truer words have never been spoken.  Most people who never grew up around tornadoes equated them to what they saw in the Wizard of Oz.  Dorothy on the bed, knocked on her noggin, seeing visions of scary things outside the window.  She landed in a fantasy land inhabited with little people, a talking lion, a scarecrow, and a tin man.  Then came Twister.  Then people got a more realistic look at the devastation a tornado can cause.  Special effects were able to bring people inside the funnel clouds; showing them what the Fujita scale actually was, and the difference between an F-2 and an F-5.   But even then, "That's a Cow", doesn't quite portray what it's really like to be in the path of the hammer. Growing up in the Midwest, we knew what tornadoes were.  We practiced drills all the time.  Everyone that didn't live in a mobile home or an apartment pretty much had a basement.   It was just a way of life.  When the sirens ...

Cruise travel.  For some people it conjures up images of a huge party boat, for others, a floating ship of senior citizens, and still others, Captain Steubing, Isaac, Gopher, and Julie.  I recently took my very first cruise and I have to say, I was pleasantly surprised.  I got the cruise as a Christmas present, and it honestly blew me away.  Who gets a cruise disguised as a toaster?  This girl.  Then came the planning and researching cruise lines, ships, destinations, and prices.  After looking at a bunch of options, we chose Carnival Cruise Lines as our ship.  We booked and planned it before all of the recent newsworthy events that the company has endured, and decided that even though bad things had happened, we were comfortable going anyway.  We looked at ports close to home and farther away, and decided it was worth it to go to Miami to depart.  Charleston, SC is undoubtedly much closer, but after reading reviews on the port and t...

Jury duty is over.  Done.  I know I have a reprieve for a while.  It was long.  I complained a lot, but I gained a new knowledge of the justice system and of myself.  The case I was on involved alleged racial discrimination and a violation of civil rights.  Being Black, that struck a chord with me.  I have been blessed enough not to have OVERT discrimination, but I have had subtle bias.  I've had people judge me and tell me that I'm too "eloquent" and "well read" for a Black person.  I've had people call me the "N" word to my face, and behind my back.  My best friend in high school wasn't allowed to be around me because her father didn't want her having a Black friend.  My ex husband's grandparents disowned him completely when they found out he was marrying a Black girl.  Never mind that they had never met me.  Never mind that I hadn't had the chance to make a good impression.  It was enough that the color of my ski...

So every day I look forward to the mail in my mailbox with a mixture of anticipation and dread.  Anticipating some neat magazine, product to test from the myriad of online surveys I busy myself with, or maybe a check from some long lost relative that kicked the bucket; or dreading bills or some other equally as vile thing.  When I got the big fat envelope that said U.S. District Court I thought, HOLY CRAP...who's suing me?  I don't have anything....I mean, my net worth is barely in the positive category...I have a dog and 2 kids..but nobody wants them, do they? I open up the envelope with great trepidation and the words JURY DUTY leap off the page.  At first I thought, what the hell?  I've never seen Jury Duty on hot pink paper.  Then I started to get a teeny bit excited.  What if it's a salacious murder trial?  What if it's the mob?  What if it's a celebrity!!!!  You have to fill out a very intensive questionnaire detailing you...

Today, much like any other day, I sat at my desk at work and alternately cursed my patients for being so doggone stupid; and got warm fuzzy feelings from the ones that are so sweet.  I usually filter conversations through the mass of information that is sifting through my brain, and today, one thing stood out.  Bomb at Boston Marathon.  I immediately went to the computer to see what had occured, and the bottom of my stomach dropped to the floor.  I saw images upon images of mangled bodies, tears, and first responders rushing to aid.  I had traumatic flashbacks to the day, not so long ago, of watching the news following the Newtown shootings.  Something about this attack, just like the ones in Newtown, shook me to my very core.  I couldn't help myself as I clicked through slideshow after slideshow of the carnage, tears running down my face.  Why do these things happen?  Why do pepole strike where they know their victims are the mos...