...blame it on the rain



Our children: Kerri, Tori, Whit, Kenn, & DJ
Grandson: Reno

                                                                

Parenting is a learning experience and who is better to teach parenting besides your own children? Over the last two days, I have had the opportunity to talk with others about our youth. When it comes to our youth, especially our own offspring, we are too quick to place blame on their bad habits. It's almost like Milli Vanilli, Blame It On The Rain...parents have to blame their children's poor manners, disrespect, and all things unwarranted on something [just as Milli Vanilli blamed their lip-synching on the rain; the rain doesn't mind; right?]. Remember the infamous tag line, "whatever you do don't put the blame on you"? WOW!

I think today, that is the parent anthem for some parents. Noticed, I stated "some"! The parents I am referring to are just that "parents"...they do not parent, they just own the title PARENT, because they have children. Please allow me to say, that even an active, involved parent who understands that children DID come with a guidebook (really? yes, it is called the Bible) will still lose a child to society's ugliness. The only difference is, an involved parent can say, "I tried! Lord knows I tried!"

Now, those pseudo parents...who only want to step up when times get rough for the child and the blame is placed on the media, networking sites, video games, music, radio, videos, and television, cannot even see the error of their own ways.

How often do you spend quality time with your child? Do you date your child? Do you tell your child he/she is handsome/beautiful? Do you display affection? Do you discipline your child in love and in righteousness? When was the last time you made yourself visible at your child's school? Do you have open communication--a time where the child can sit with you and talk to you without fear of reprisal?

Before any of the debates, which were all healthy, took place, I had a section in my upcoming book release, Broken Angel, about parenting and role models. Instead of writing a 5-page blog, I would like to share part of Lessons from my Mother with you. ~~~~

Erin Adams-Phillips. 2010 © Broken Angel. All rights reserved.

Lessons from my Mother

a chapter from—Broken Angel

Part 3—I am Queen

“The way you treat yourself sets the standard for others." ~ Dr Sonya Friedman~

I am a role model. A motivator. An inspiration. I am a Mommy. Raising a teen and a tween daughter is not easy in a time where society equates sexiness of a female with half-naked style dress and blonde hair. Almost every little girl envies Nicki Minaj. “My Mommy doesn’t like Nicki Minaj!” they say. Their friends immediately perceive me as old or lame. It is difficult for me to make an eleven and a thirteen-year-old understand that I don’t dislike her person. I don’t even know her person. However, Nicki Minaj, the entertainer, is EVERYTHING I don’t want my daughters to be. Sure, I want them to be their own person; search and define their own WHO, but I would be less than a mother, less than a woman to not teach them the values…the standards I feel that are important for them to grow and succeed as young ladies turned women…my princesses turned Queens.

Now, some may argue that I have double standards. Why? I love Beyonce. No, not Beyonce the person; I don’t know Beyonce the person. However, I do like Beyonce the entertainer. Growing up, my own mother loved Tina Turner and she still does as do I, but she would not want me listening to Millie Jackson. Regardless of what entertainer, model, actress, poet…that is all exempt, because no matter how many times a parent say, “Do as I say, not as I do,” the way you treat yourself…the way you respect yourself…the way you allow others to treat you…allow them to disrespect you….is all that matters in the wandering eyes of a child. What I stand for is not a life-time contract that my daughters will follow me; however, they will be able to look at me and say, “My Mommy is my role model”.

I am not delusional. I am not without fault. I have my demons. I sin. I have been accused of telling my daughters too much about LIFE or being too RAW with them about life. Every child has a unique relationship with his/her parent. All of my life, people have tried to break me. Some succeeded. Most did not. I was unaware of so many things in life. I was sheltered. I accepted and allowed behaviors from men and women alike that I would die for if I can save my children from that pain. We are born into a world of sin, yet, we are born innocent. As infants we have no knowledge of right and wrong. We are taught about life. We learn life and survival skills from what we see. Our habitat. Don’t let anyone fool you into thinking that only physical illnesses are genetic. Mental illnesses…emotional illnesses….financial illnesses….spiritual weaknesses are hereditary. Please know that I’m not placing blame on the parent. I know parents who were pure or as close to pure as a sinner can be…including my own mother. Still, I strayed. My siblings strayed, but NOT without a conscience of right and wrong. We knew better. So, are we as parents fighting a losing battle? No, we are guiding our children in the direction we feel are best for them to travel. Are we accurate? No; of course not. When humans lean upon their own understanding that even they don’t understand, the only route is to fall short. I am a confessed sinner. I am an unbaptized believer. What am I teaching my kids? I love God but not enough to dedicate myself because of the world’s impurities that give me temporary satisfaction? That it is okay to believe in God, because He is understanding and forgiving? You can have faith without works? Scoff.

I equip them with the knowledge of God.  What I have learned is that they, too, inspire me the same, if not more, than I hope to inspire them.  ~~~~~~~~

To my readers, we live in an era where the media has much influence on society and society sets the norms. TV, radio, music, movies, video games, and yes, even networking is about what sells...what profits! My upcoming blog for tomorrow, clueless, classless, or confused, actually goes into this topic so I won't dwell on it; however, keep in mind, as parents, we have a responsibility to our children. Sex, violence, and drugs sell; therefore, that is what profits and that is what the media, radio, TV, videos, and music produce! Accept responsibility for your own actions or lack thereof. The rain, no it doesn't mind. It has no knowledge...no conscience, but the Creator of rain, the One who makes it rain upon the righteous and the unrighteous, minds...because in hindsight, you are placing the blame on Him.

Music for today, Billie Holiday's God Bless the Child

…the art of forgiving—how far does “sorry” really go?

© Erin Adams-Phillips

Forgiveness is one of the biggest acts of kindness and love gifted to mankind. Being created in the image of God, His word commands us to “Continue putting up with one another and forgiving one another freely if anyone has a cause for complaint against another”.(Col. 3:13). However, in my blog published July 9, 2011 “never changing”, I stated, we cannot forgive as God forgives. He forgives freely. 

So, do I believe in forgiveness? Yes; and I have forgiven. I have been forgiven. Freely? You tell me. I have a personal motto on forgiveness, “I forgive! I forget! Yet, I never forget what I have  forgiven!” Why is that? I’m human. My heart is designed to only take so much of the same from the same because of the same. I think the best way to explain what I just wrote is by quoting one of my literary favorites, Ms. Ntozake Shang (1975), 

“one thing i don’t need is any more apologies…i got sorry greetin me at my front door…you can keep yrs…i don’t know what to do wit em…they dont open doors…or bring the sun back…they dont make me happy…or get a mornin paper…didnt nobody stop usin my tears to wash cars…cuz a sorry” (from for colored girls ).

Sorry is like a tomato. It can be dressed up with almost any food/fault…admired by farmers who grow them in their garden…eaten by little kids as the juices escapes the corners of their innocent mouths…confused by the ones who don’t know that a tomato is actually a fruit and not a vegetable (shhh…that is a well-kept culinary and botanical secret). 

When a celebrity makes an off-the-wall, heartfelt comment that is labeled racist, they come with the public apology, “I’m sorry!” When your child’s teacher lectures them with some assbackwards, backwooded, unprofessional lecture that ends in a threat and your child tells you and you go to the school, you get, “I’m sorry!” When your teen breaks curfew or spouse gets caught in a lie, “I’m sorry!” 

Once you hear the overused phrase, “I’m sorry!” so much, it pretty much loses its sincerity and you think, “You damn sure are…SORRY!” 

Why are apologies so important, yet unimportant? Your feelings can only be hurt…your heart can only be broken…by someone you love…someone you admire…and ironically, someone you are willing to forgive.

If a person doesn’t care if you are a can of paint or can of soda, you cannot emotionally hurt them. Your words are like rubber and bounce right off them.  That is why it is very important to be careful with your words. Words can and words do hurt. BADLY. Make wise choices in your actions. Your actions reflect on those you love…your parents…spouse…children…siblings. No matter how many “sorrys” you say, you cannot take those words nor those actions back. No matter how many times you hear, “I forgive you”, somewhere in your mind you know you have not been forgiven freely, because you know you have not forgiven freely. You know you are tired of accepting everybody’s and anybody’s sorry! Think before you speak. Think before you act. You may just save yourself a lonely trip down Sorry Boulevard.

“i cant get to the clothes in my closet for alla the sorries…i’m gonna tack a sign to my door…leave a message by the phone…‘if you called to say yr sorry…call somebody else…i dont use em anymore’…i let sorry/ didnt meanta/ & how could i know about that…take a walk down a dark & musty street in Brooklyn…i’m gonna do exactly what i want to & i wont be sorry for none of it…letta sorry soothe yr soul/ i’m gonna soothe mine” (from for colored girls, Shang, 1975).

...i am a Southern Belle

Over two days ago, I was asked, “Dee, why do you hate Alabama?” I could not answer the question. I am the type of person that will always be honest with my readers, but most importantly, I will be and I AM honest with myself. I went back to read some of my rants on FB and it does read as if I hate Alabama; however, that is false. I love Alabama. I am Alabama born, raised, and bred. I live in Ohio, but I don’t have an Ohio accent and I do not try to fake one…my Southern drawl is evident and in effect. I wear shirts that read “Southern Belle” and “I Love the Dirty South” with an Alabama map; but to me that means nothing. My love for Alabama is in my heart!

What I detest about Alabama is the same thing I detest about Florida, Georgia, Louisiana, Mississippi, Texas, and Arizona. I do not like SUMMER. I detest being in the HEAT! Alabama has LONG, HOT summers. ~scoffs~ Sure, it is hot as hell in Cincinnati. Today has been a very uncomfortable 96 degrees that even the rain is afraid of; yet, the one thing I can count on is that I will not be able to wear shorts in November!

Many of you know I am ill. On top of all my other illnesses, I was diagnosed with Sarcoidosis this year. In a moment of pain and weakness, I decided I would move home or closer to home. This illness can be very ugly and cruel to your body. No matter how many people I know with Sarcs, it is different now that I have the disease. Each time an attack hits me, I want my Mahm! Hey, I’m a big baby; what can I say? I visited home earlier this month to free my mind and weigh some important, life changing decisions. During my trip, I tried to fight an attack for two days. After attending my cousin’s homegoing, the heat and humidity was too much to bear and I had a really bad asthma attack...Yes, at my Mahm’s house…in the presence of my Mahm and my cousin.

My daughter gave me my treatments and pain meds; I cried myself to sleep. I can remember my Mahm talking to me, but I don’t know what she said. I woke up to an empty front room. My cousin was gone. Mahm came to check on me. I was still weak so she helped me to bed. I was so restless; up and down all night long. I don’t like people seeing me sick AT ALL! My Mahm was scared. She has never really seen SARCS up close and personal, and when it is your baby you see that sick; it gives you a whole new outlook on the illness. She, too, was restless. Though she did not leave her bed, she communicated to me, she heard me up and down all night long (that elephant was still on my chest and I couldn’t breathe).

Another incident during my visit pretty much sealed the deal that I would not relocate to Alabama. I was introduced to my cousin’s daughter. I have never seen her before in my life. When I saw her, I wanted to see him, but all I saw was Alabama’s injustice. I tried to tell myself, God is loyal and just; man is just mortal man, but my heart cried. I managed to tell her she was beautiful, but my eyes were so full of tears that the back of my head was burning. My hometown holds my heart, but it also encompasses much of my hurt.

Alabama has one of the oldest justice systems in our nation.  Alabama prisons are overcrowded and borderline inhumane.  There are more drug users (not dealers) in Alabama prisons than there are murderers. You get second chances for taking away a person’s life and leaving a hole in the victim’s family hearts; yet, petty crimes and first-time, non-violent offenders are sent to Maximum Security facilities. Where is the justice? Hey, if it isn’t broke, why fix it; right?

I do not HATE Alabama. Alabama is HOME! My family is in Alabama. My friends are in Alabama. When I have nothing left at all, I will always have ALABAMA. No one can say what tomorrow may bring for you nor me. Regardless of where I live, I will always be a Southern Belle; still, my life, at this moment, is in Ohio.

...for my daughters: Kennedi & Kerrigan

WHEN I LOOK AT YOU

Erin Adams-Phillips ©2010. All rights reserved.

When I look at you, I instantly smile
For you bring me joy
You are my everyday laughter
Even my anger couldn't be happier!
When I look at you peacefully sleeping
I close my eyes and thank my God
Ask Him to help me be a good Mother, a good guide
To lead you in this troubled world!
I know my teachings are often raw
My love, sometimes its tough
But each and every ounce I give to you
Comes directly from my heart!
I know it seems I'm being hard
And oftentimes out of "date"
But you are not clay, I can't physically shape and mold you
I can only educate you on "today!"
When I look at you I see innocence, I see beauty
I want to protect you and take away your fears!
When I look at you and cry, they are astonished tears
I am MommyBear!
Be cautious, be aware
Be stingy with your trust
Be a leader, but know when and who to follow
Never, ever settle for just
Don't be anxious for tomorrow!
Survival of the fittest
Survival of others,
Survival of soul, body, and mind
Peer pressure has grown
Times have changed
This world is not very kind!
When I look at you, I intend to scare you NOT
My intent is to embrace and to teach
To shower you with unconditional love
Clothe you with self-worth, self-confidence, self-love!
And knowledge of your Father above
~ASL "heavenly father"~
So, when I look at you and you see me smile,
I'm thinking "how blessed am I?
To have been chosen to parent and guide you in life,
My fantastic, little women"!

....weaker; is it really stronger?

(a)   Woman is the WEAKER vessel.

(b)   A man is not supposed to cry!

(c)    Girl, you got my rib! Give me my rib back!

(d)  God created you as a HELPER for me!

Myths. Facts. Old Wives Tales. We’ve heard them all before.

Isn’t it ironic how people can switch up the original meaning of things? Just butcher it up, mold and melt, melt and mold, shaping it for their personal meaning and life. Why is it so hard to accept situations for what they really are in life? Though I didn’t plan this, this entry will reflect back to:

(1)   The looking glass self—how people perceive others and “some” others try to base their WHO on how others see them.

(2)   Never changing—God doesn’t change…so yes, Eve was created from Adam’s rib (does the bible say a SLAB..half rack…baby back…I don’t know)…and woman was created to be a HELPER to man, but does that mean weaker vessel means weak-minded? OF COURSE NOT!

I really hate getting spiritual in my writings but sometimes, it is the only way I can make a VALID point.

“Likewise, husbands, live with your wives in an understanding way, showing honor to the woman as the weaker vessel, since they are heirs with you of the grace of life, so that your prayers may not be hindered” (1 Peter 3:7 ESV).

Vessel has many meanings. In that scripture note it states as a weaker vessel which is symbolic for a woman’s feminism. It doesn’t mean woman is MENTALLY weak.

Remember in the Garden of Eden, when the serpent spoke with Eve? God states Eve was THOROUGHLY deceived.

Genesis 3:13 reads, “Then the LORD God said to the woman, "What is this you have done?" The woman said, "The serpent deceived me, and I ate."

1Timothy 2:14 informs, “and Adam was not deceived, but the woman was deceived and became a transgressor”.

The serpent did some convincing on Eve. Eve pretty much just said, “BITE THE FRUIT ADAM!”

Now, I wrote all that to ask, women, do you know your OWN power? I am not talking about your WORTH. I’m speaking of your POWER over man.

Women have the power to escalate or diminish a situation. Any given day, the beginning of day, middle of day, end of day, a man just wants to be a man! Society has brainwashed so many women into thinking that submissive means less than that they want to be so independent they have forgotten their REAL power.

If your husband comes home from a hard day of work and doesn’t feel like eating with the family, what will you do? Do you bitch and tell him this is family time?! Belittle him about not taking part in family outings?! Just yell and escalate the situation without knowing what is going on?! Or will you understand? Tell him you are going to eat with the kids and will check on him later!

Really, you don’t know what his day was like. You don’t know what is on his mind. Would it not be wiser to say, “Okay, Babe! I will make your plate and sit it in the microwave”... Give him a brief hug and kiss on the cheek to let him know whatever is wrong, we will work it out together!?

Do you know how that loving gesture can break him...make him forget all about his horrible day, because he just came home to the most beautiful, softest, greatest helper made just for him?

Yes, women, we have that power! It is in the tone of our voice, the wink of our eyes, the softness of our bodies. We have the power to make man melt  or make him erupt like a volcano.

Do you know your power?! Don’t deny yourself the beauty of knowing your strengths as well as your weaknesses. Do you know your power?!

DISCLAIMER: This is not true of all situations. If you feel that you are in physical danger due aggression or domestic violence, please contact the Domestic Violence Hotline at 1.800.799.SAFE (7233).

...let it PAIN on me

 ~tears fall as I look at me in the mirror...stained glass image reflection of self~

Thought I was immune to hurt

Please, God, just numb me!

I don’t want to feel this pain

Again it’s throbbing inside of me!

My headache is matching my heartbeat

A hole is left where he should be

But countless time he’s shown me I’m not his Queen

Well, I dethrone myself from your kingdom

Your laws are unjust and promises are false

I cannot fight your war anymore

My warrior days are over!

I have to fight for me!

I’ve cried so much; my eyes are blurry

But I see clearly…I feel strongly

I was taken for granted and I wasn’t appreciated

My truth was turned lies

Needles were stuck in my eyes

Don’t numb me, God

Let me feel this pain…this hurt

Make it worse this time far greater than last

I’ve bought so many lessons, I’m bankrupt on love

Baptizing myself in reality

I want to see the Black Dove

Take flight

Signifying the dawn of a brand new me

Don’t numb me, God

Let it pain on me!

My appetite is gone

My heart is broken

My head is crowded

But my judgment is solid!

I will cry away my sorrow

Grieve a life that never really was

Then I will take flight and accept the reality that

I can’t change anyone but ME

And I will embrace it

I will tango

Save the last dance for me!

Painfully Beautiful

a poem from Poet's Paradise by Erin's Echo

2010 © Erin Adams-Phillips. All rights reserved.

Musical Inspiration for today Tina Turner...I don't care who's wrong or right; I don't really wanna fight no more!

...never changing

In the field of Information Technology we always say, “The one constant is change!” Beyond the world of IT there are constant changes in medicine, education, healthcare, marketing, and social services (and many other industries). People change…some for the good; some for the not so good. Jobs change. The economy changes. Politics change. Even religion changes.

Now, I’m not a spiritual writer. I am not a holy rider or bible thumper. However, I am spiritual and I do know God.  He is constant. He is not bias. He is never changing. Malachi 3:6 declares, “I the LORD do not change….”. People GOD is FAITHFUL; He is just!

Tonight was scary. Very scary. Beyond scary. It was mysterious. Terrifying. Bizarre. Just plain crazy.  As I hummed to my niece, all I could think was “WOW; we may be made… in His image, but we are good-for-nothing slaves. We cannot love as He loves…teach the way He teaches….touch the way He touches…forgive the way He forgives. God is loyal. God is love. God is eternal. “I am the Alpha and the Omega, the First and the Last, the Beginning and the End”.  Revelation 22: 13

Thank you, God for your undeserved kindness.

If I say it once, I can say it again, again, and again...~Erin's Echo~

...the looking glass

He/she sits and talks and talks to you about every Sue, Sally, and Samantha known to mankind. They want you to believe that one, single person is the enemy…dividing relationships between yourself and the people you love most. In fact, that person is the Devil’s spawn…it is not possible for him/her to be human...a child of God. They are bathed in jealousy and clothed in envy. Grey and green. They have always been partial and bias against you…they have no morals…no values.

This person, the Gossiper, has to be your everything…the “go to” person…the Savior or Saviorette! The News Anchor...delivering the good news as well as the bad. Concocting stories about the immoral seed. They belittle said person...even their family, whom they do NOT even know for self, as the despicable, modern-day harlot who rides the beast of evil.

People, take off your rose-colored glasses. He/she that sits and talks to you about every Sue, Sally, and Samantha known to mankind is also talking about you to Sue, Sally, Samantha, Dawn, Drake, and Devin. My advice to you “ASK” don’t “ASSUME”.

Charles H. Cooley, founder and father of the Looking Glass Self social psychological theory, believes that perception of self is dependent on others.

Well, I am no looking glass! I do not shape myself by what others perceive nor think of me. People do not define my WHO. I define my WHO and I am my only limitation and I know who I am.

Perform a self-evaluation and re-evaluate the people in your circle!

If I say it or write it once…I can say it and write it again, again, again……..~Erin’s Echo~