Stay Home Mom vs Working Mom

Recent, in the news, concerns over the decision of Ann Romney to care for her family within the home as opposed to being a working mom has been the topic of discussion.

Sitting in my 12th grade English Class at Jefferson Davis High School in Montgomery, AL, my career counselor asked the question, "What do you want to do when you graduate?"  I told her I wanted to be a wife and a mother.  Perhaps that left her speechless because I remember little of anything else.  However, having no prospects at the time, my Dad decided I needed to go to nursing school because it would be a good profession for a science minded, single young woman. 

As a Christian in the Southern Baptist Faith, my life and decisions are based/made upon that foundation.  The foundation that Jesus Christ is the Son of God, born to a virgin, lived a sinless life and died on the cross as an atonement for the sins of mankind. And, whosoever accepts that can have an eternal life in heaven.  This is MY belief.

Every person is uniquely individual with their own beliefs.  No one is perfect, no one is the same, and everyone does things based on what they think is right.  Although, many choose to do wrong, and even that is an individual decision.

Ann Romney is of the Latter Days Saints/Morman Faith.  She and her husband decided early in their marriage that staying home and raising their five sons was her contribution to the home, and society.  Being a mother is no laughing matter, nor is it an easy task especially to five sons.  I know, I have three sons myself.

Making men out of boys is more than watching children grow up.  Virtue, honesty, courtesy, integrity, and responsibility, to name a few, are not things that can be learned on the street, unless it is through some intervention program.  Nor is it something that they "pick up" on their own.  These are character traits that must be instilled, developed, and honed to make reputable future leaders of family and society.

Even King David, the author of Psalms, recognized the important role a woman has to her home, and to her children when he wrote:

He maketh the barren woman to keep house, and to be a joyful mother of children. Praise ye the LORD.  Psalms 113:9 (biblegateway.com)

Raising a family in a one income home is difficult.  Unless Mitt Romney was independently wealthy through inheritance, it was his drive to provide for his family that made him a wealthy man.  And, more than likely, there were sacrifices along the way in order for his wife to stay at home, and care for the home and family.

Education is a key factor in the ability to earn money.  Education provides a greater chance of obtaining higher paying jobs.  And, remembering that education is a lifelong journey, increasing your marketability through education should be top priority. 

Working moms are born, and made.  Some women are naturally born, professional women who NEED to work outside the home.  My mother, and sister are two of those women.  They would go nuts having to stay at home all day.  I, on the other hand, am a "made" working mom.  I HAD to work to support my sons.  Only on occasion have I been afforded the luxury of being a stay-at-home mom. 

Many women squander the time spent at home by watching soap operas, leaving dishes in the sink, not having meals prepared for their husbands when they return from work, and ignoring the children.  These are the women who give stay-at-home moms a bad reputation.

Too, in today's society, the idea of Mr. Mom has become a trend.  Dads raising children is more common.  Women who have a good career, and make significant money often choose to continue to work while the husband tends to the home, and children.  If it works, it is a good thing.

Working moms, whether by choice or by force, have to learn to juggle their homes, family, and career.  It takes a superwoman to be a supermom; something many women have a tough time doing.  Sometimes it takes an emotional toll on all involved.  And, husbands are asked to take a more active role in house hold duties, and childcare.  If it works, it is a good thing.

Some working moms have no support system at all to aid in child rearing and house hold duties.  I truly feel for these women.  Latchkey children are often left without supervision, and day cares are assembly line substitutes for attention, direction, and affection.  Granted there are some wonderful preschool learning programs available, but you get what you pay for.  Day care is expensive but, if it works, it is a good thing.

Problems do arise when the already heavily taxed welfare system is burdened with the extra expense of more children to feed due to the lack of family planning.  It is a great concern for the tax payers of this country.   This program should be viewed as a temporary solution to a temporary problem, not a lifestyle.  And, I have worked two jobs, rarely seeing my children, in order to survive.

So, the battle between stay-at-home moms versus working moms will be an ongoing topic of discussion.  And, it is my hope, my readers will take away from this message that the decision to be one or the other is a personal decision, and shouldn't be judged by anyone except those personally involved.

Bunny gets killed at his own press conference

Recently, a teeny tiny bunny bound for a petting zoo was introduced at a press conference.  The bunny was unusual because it was an ear-less bunny.  It could hear, but didn't have the long, floppy ears that bunnies typically have.

Somehow, the teeny tiny bunny ended up in the floor, and just as the camera man stepped back to get it into view, the bunny ended up under his foot as he stepped down, and was killed.  A vet said, the bunny was killed instantly, but it still would have hurt.  Can you imagine the horror of the cameraman, and those in attendance?

My question is how did the bunny end up on the floor?  And, why wasn't there a definitive space for attendees in case something like this happened? 

Bittersweet Memories: The Loss of Whitney Houston

Ever since I heard the news that Whitney Houston died, I have been so upset that I've had her continually on my mind. She was my favorite vocalist since I first heard, "I wanna dance with somebody" way back in the 80's.

What a blessed lady she was to have received such a wonderful voice.  I've followed People.com, watched countless tributes, and replayed her movies just mesmerized by the voice, beauty, and talent this woman possessed.

I knew she was started singing in church, but didn't know the extent of her religious upbringing.  It appears the Houston family was faith based at its roots, and Whitney was afforded a strong, Christian upbringing.  But, then again, so was Brad Pitt, but look where he is with regards to his religious beliefs.

It wasn't until I tuned in to the last interview with Oprah Winfrey that I found peace with myself, that, indeed, Whitney Houston was a child of God, and is now resting in heaven with God the Father, Jesus, His Son, and our Savior! 

She explained in her interview that her mother was instrumental in bringing about the reconciliation within her self that she needed to leave the destructive marriage with Bobby Brown.  According to Whitney, her mother went into her Atlanta home with sheriff's deputies, and a court order that mandated she leave that house, and enter a rehab facility.  Whitney explained that her mother told her she wasn't raised "that way," and her mother wouldn't sit back and allow Whitney to destroy herself.

Praise God, Cissy Houston fought for her daughter.  Just as Whitney and her daughter, Bobbi Kristina fought to get through it.

Whitney shared her faith with Oprah, and how much she loved God, and how important He was in her life.  Too bad, that Satan has used her weaknesses and strongholds to destroy her, and steal her from us way too young.  However, Glory to God, Whitney is in the All Saints Choir, singing in perfection.  Can you just imagine?!

My prayers are that no drugs will be found, and this is a case of alcohol poisoning, and/or drowning.  I know that may sound horrid, morbid, whatever, but it would beat knowing that Satan over came, and she was using drugs again.

My prayers are being sent on behalf of the Houston family, that God's blessing of comfort for those who mourn, as he promised, would rain down, and embrace them in their sorrow.

My prayers are for Bobby, and Bobbi, and his other children that they, too, may know the Joy of the Lord, experience the gift of salvation, and enable them to beat the drug habit, or stay out of it.

And, finally, my prayer is that we use each day wisely, and recognize that life is a gift, and with that gift comes the ultimate sacrifice for the reconciliation of man to God through the death, burial, and resurrection, of Jesus, God's Son, and our Savior!  That gift can be yours, you just reach out and take hold of it.

As time goes by...

Living life to the fullest, and looking forward to our future are sometimes dampened by the pull of the bittersweet past.  How sweet it was.

by Carolyn Roberson, Feb 1, 2012

Call me naïve, simplistic, backward, whatever you want, but I really miss yesteryear.  Bittersweet memories of times gone by flood my head, and heart with so much emotion I swell to tears at times.

The television program, “The Waltons,” is one of my favorites.  A life time progresses as I watch each re-run while the family deals with sickness, love, life lessons, loss of a loved one, growing up, growing old, and moving away from the mountain.  Yet, I can turn back time, and watch it all over again. 

Life does not imitate art in this instance.  We cannot turn back the calendar.  We are given but one life.  How we live that life is up to each of us.  Granted we have certain societal rules, cultural guidelines, and government keeping us in the general flow of things, but living in the land of the free, we can choose how we live.

For most of us, life is good, and easy compared to the harsh times our ancestors faced.  Growing a garden, and hunting for wild game is as easy as shopping at your local grocery store.  Yet, our forefathers toiled for the luxury of eating.  Although, these days, it’s getting much harder to keep the pantry stocked because of the economy.

Tanner Farm

My daddy was from a large family although he only had one brother.  His mother; however, was one of seven living siblings: Bud, Sarah, Lillie (my grandmother), Gene, Nettie, Sally, Ed, and another who died as a young child.

Little Granny, as we called her, was about five foot tall, and Harrison, her husband, my great grandfather, was pushing seven foot.  Little Granny dipped snuff, and could be seen with a snuff ring around her mouth at any time. 

Most early Easters were spent on the farm.  Everyone’s families gathered outside the small, square, four-room house around tables, play pens, cars, and strategically far enough away from the outhouse to not notice.

The egg hunt was in the cow pasture, and one year Aunt Nettie sat in a cow patty.  Those were such sweet times, ones I cherish in my memory, and fortunately on 8mm tape, which I have converted to disc.

Rotation

After Harrison and Granny Tanner died, our family started rotating holidays between my mother’s and daddy’s brothers’ houses and our house. 

Thanksgiving was at our house because we had a huge, country table with benches and extensions.  It sat 23 people once when all of the leaves where in place, and the benches and matching chairs were brought in.

Easter was at Momma’s brother’s house because he had land, and a pond.  Uncle Wayne’s place was a great place for the egg hunt. 

My great grandfather on my mother’s side, Ellis, loved to fish in that pond.  But, he wouldn’t go if the cows were lying down because the fish weren’t biting.

Christmas was at Daddy’s brother’s house:  Uncle Bob, and Aunt Clara.

Once I spent the night with my Aunt Clara before Christmas and she decided we would make popcorn balls.  She had never made them before.  We popped the corn, and added the corn syrup, and had a sticky, gooey mess.  My Uncle Bob had to rescue us and explained the syrup had to be at hard boil stage to make the popcorn balls.  By the time we were finished, we were too tired to eat them.

This arrangement went on for years until my Daddy passed away, and Uncle Wayne sold his land.  Aunt Clara still hosts Christmas and we all have a standing invitation.  And, Uncle Wayne has a different place, with lots of land where we can go have bonfires, cook outs, ride horses, and play softball together. 

My Family

I had a very loving family.  My parents were strict, demanded excellence, and were ethical with high moral standards.  This balanced out with tolerance, attention and love.  We also were afforded a rich, Christian heritage founded in Southern Baptist belief.

Momma, and Daddy both worked for the city in the Police, and Fire Departments.   They each retired, and went on to work other jobs.  Momma actually was able to retire a second time from the county. Daddy was a drill instructor in the Air Force before I was born, so you might imagine how our house was run!

Momma Louise

Momma Louise was my babysitter.  An ENTIRE blog can be written about Momma Louise.  You can come back later and read a blog dedicated to Momma Lou.   But I will say this much, I had the most incredible, and magical childhood any child could ever wish for much less realize!

This woman was super woman.  She had to be because she cared for her four children, me, and my two siblings, and, a lot of times, her niece and nephew.  Nine children, that is a small herd!

Yesteryear

Living in yesteryear is not a great place to hide out.  But visiting these sweet memories is so much fun.  Time marches forward, and now I’m making memories with three sons of my own, and my super sweet niece. 

I’ll close this post with a verse that has become dear to my heart and is a good reminder for the day.

1 Thessalonians 4:11 …Aspire to lead a quiet life, to mind your own business and to work with your own hands

It kind of fits into what I’ve been talking about.  Don’t cha think?!

Rest in Peace, RIP

A philosophical rant by a shallow mind trying to dig deeper into life issues, to grow in knowledge and understanding, and express my opinion.

By Carolyn Roberson - Tuesday 30 Aug 2011

The loss of a family member or friend is, more often than not, a traumatic, and sometimes, life changing event. How we deal with that loss is uniquely individual. Over and over we see “RIP” or “May you Rest in Peace” posted on Facebook accounts, or on online condolence pages. But what is it to rest in peace?

Merriam Webster has six definitions for the word rest. Initially, one would think rest would mean to cease from labor, which is a correct definition. Other definitions are to lay in a state of death, and a cessation of bodily function. However, for this article it means peace of mind or peace of the spirit.

According to Judeo-Christian beliefs, upon death, the soul is either transported to heaven or hell depending on the acceptance of atonement provided by Jesus Christ, God’s Son, and designated Savior of mankind. Islam adheres to a similar heaven/hell belief. Buddhist and Hindu doctrine recycles life until all desire is abolished, and a state of nirvana is achieved at which point the soul fades into nothingness. Then, there are atheists, and agnostics. A theologian, I am not: I’m just someone who likes to think.

Based on the definition of rest coupled with various beliefs, there isn’t much resting in life after death. Should you choose to be a resident of eternal flames, and damnation, there will NOT be any resting at all, just utter torment for all of eternity. If your soul fades into nothingness, there will be no resting because there is nothing to rest. Recycling life by becoming another will only give you another life to live with problems, trials, and temptations; perhaps even in a location far worse than were you were in a previous lifetime. However, should you choose to follow the narrow path to heaven, there will be rest for the soul.

So, the next time you want to RIP someone, think about how shallow it is, and actually think of something to express a sincere condolence, as if my opinion really matters.

Hospice Care

A personal flashback to hospice care and the support experienced by our family during the loss our mother, our best friend.

By Carolyn Roberson - Friday 02 Sep 2011

In 2005, my mother slid into the floor at church during the Maundy Thursday service. One would recognize this as unusual right off; however, my mother, having grown up in a Holiness church, had very unique worship practices. My sister, who was with her, thought maybe she was having some kind of spiritual experience until she realized she had passed out.

After arriving at the hospital via ambulance, totally petrified at having disrupted the solemn service at church, mother was back to her usual eccentric self. Apologizing to the preacher when he visited, he assured her it was fine, and everyone understood it was a medical emergency. She felt only slightly better for the disruption.

Diagnosed with Autoimmune Hepatitis, mother was given the news that she had about 24 months to live, and was not a candidate for a liver transplant due to various health issues, and age. She immediately heard terminal, and sat down to die. It was very difficult watching this woman who road a sea doo and snowmobiles, who could run your socks off, work circles around you, and was just a social butterfly become disinterested in life. She turned inward, and her outgoing personality was missed.

Doctors visits were almost daily, and even on the best days, she was tired all the time. One of the last Sundays she attended church left her in the bushes and rolling down the little inclined sidewalk into the street where a car stopped short of hitting her because of a missed step. Much to her dismay, the day she turned in her driver’s license, and got a non-driver I.D. was an emotionally traumatic time for her.

Because her two Blue Cross/Blue Shield policies and her Medicare failed to pay for the prescription of oxygen from the doctor, her home health doctor mentioned that a hospice would pay for oxygen, and provide help to the family with drug administration, and basic personal care. We tried to reassure her that, although she was terminal, hospice intervention was just a route to go for less expense with her medications and such. She didn’t buy it, and it made her quit all together.

Hospice care, once the right people were in place, became a lifesaver, not only for the family, but also for mother. She could interact with someone new, whereas conversations became routine and boring with just the family members. Although it was a health care visit, Miss Butterfly used it as a time for socialization.

At the end, hospice care became a support system for the family members, aiding us in coping with the upcoming loss. The elderly night nurse was grandmotherly, and emotionally supported each of us as we were coming to the point of encouraging mother to let go, and where we could say goodbye. Each nurse was as interactive as we needed, or quiet during our moments of silence; instinctually interactive as each of the family members were experiencing different emotions at different times.

Hospice nursing isn’t for everyone: I am sure of that. It takes someone truly special to accomplish all that they did for our dying mother, and each member of our family. To be there at the time life leaves the body at death is as special as being there for the birth of new life. I will always be thankful to Vitas Hospice Care, San Antonio, Texas.

Hearing loss, and coping in a hearing world

Struggles to find a place between the hearing and deaf worlds in a hearing society, and the outcome of my quest.

By Carolyn Roberson - Sunday 04 Sep 2011

In 1992, I was a telephone operator at a well known southern university. During the day, many calls came in ranging from ridiculous questions to reasonable requests. These two were my favorite calls:

Telephone Operator: University of ###, how can I direct your call?

Student: Uh, yeah, my buddies and I went fishing this weekend, and we fried some fish. I left it sitting out on the counter. Do you think I can still eat it?

T. O: I wouldn’t recommend it sir, but I’ll be happy to transfer you to student health services.

Student: Uh, Yeah, Okay, thanks.

And other…

T.O.: University of ###, how can I direct your call?

Future Student: Oh hi! Like, I’m going to be going there in the fall. How many parking spaces do we get?

T.O: One, I assume: how many do you need?

F.S: Well, like, I didn’t know which car I was going to bring; my Ferrari or my Porsche.

T.O.: I don’t know why you couldn’t bring them both, but I’ll transfer you to the Campus Police.

As time went by, I noticed I couldn’t turn the volume up on my head set any longer. Initially, I thought it might be faulty equipment. Boy, I was SO wrong in my assumption.

Life kept moving forward, and small hearing issues in public places seemed to grow. Eventually, I ended up in the office of the Department of Rehabilitation Services to discuss my problems with my vocational rehabilitation caseworker. He suggested I go see an Ear, Nose, and Throat Specialist (ENT), and we would talk further.

The visit to the ENT included a hearing evaluation. Sitting in a little sound proof cubicle with a hand held buzzer, I would repeat words, or push the buzzer when I heard a sound. My hearing evaluation resulted in the diagnosis of adult onset high frequency neurological hearing loss, and tinnitus, which wasn’t unexpected; although, it was a devastating diagnosis because I was a church soloist in hopes of developing a singing ministry. So, the task of working , going back to college, and raising two small boys while learning to be hearing impaired began.

A local church offered sign language classes. My mother and I thought it might be a good place to start learning about deafness. The instructor passed out books purchased from the local center for the deaf. After telling my caseworker about this, he suggested I visit the center because it receives referrals from DRS. I picked up the phone, and changed my life!

My caseworker was so calm, laid back, and informative which is what I needed considering I was a basket case by then. I took a lackadaisical approach to this because I didn’t realize or acknowledge the importance of the services I was getting. But, what made me really think about myself, and the services I was receiving was a seemingly unusual question! I was asked, “If you were a pizza, what shape would you be?” I thought and replied, “ a triangle because I want to be multifaceted.” That was a turning point in my time there.

Because of my up coming graduation from college with a degree in social services, I was asked to join the center as a caseworker! The director sent me to an employment services program for job training and development. During this time, one of my assignments inspired this poem, which has become my philosophy for being deaf in a hearing world.

Please Don’t Dis Ability

 

Welcome to my silent world.
Please try to understand.
I need to work just like you,
But need your helping hand.

Please don’t look the other way
And to ignorance succumb.
Just because I can not hear
Doesn’t mean I’m dumb.

“I can do” is my attitude.
I really want to try.
But, if I don’t get half a chance
Don’t blame me if I cry.

So, let me work by your side:
It means the world to me.
I can grow, and my life will soar
If you will not dis ability!