And Starring As Herself...MRSRKFJ

Motivational Monday

noreply@blogger.com (Mrs RKFJ) — Mon, 13 Feb 2012 12:05:00 +0000

Friends are angels that lift us to our feet when our wings have trouble remembering how to fly.
Unknown

SOCS: Gone Too Soon

noreply@blogger.com (Mrs RKFJ) — Sun, 12 Feb 2012 14:03:00 +0000

The death of Whitney Houston should have been a shock, but I had always looked at her like a walking corpse. She seemed to exist, emerging first as a songbird whose voice could give chills to a joke with catchphrases like "Crack is Whack" and "Hell to the No!"

Celebrities and drug use is fodder for gossip rags and other outlets of salacious media. Unfortunately we love to elevate someone only to knock them down.

Whitney was one of those.

Substance abuse whether in alcohol, illicit drugs, food, shopping, is a problem in this country. Celebrities are people, too but they have it just as hard as we do. They have their privacy invaded, their every move scrutinized, and we expect the sun, moon, and stars from them.

My hope is that someone struggling will see Whitney Houston's death as a wake up call and decide they have had enough of the hard life.

May God continue to watch over those who struggle.

Thoughtful Thurdsay: Ds and Rs and sigs Oh, MY!

noreply@blogger.com (Mrs RKFJ) — Fri, 10 Feb 2012 02:33:00 +0000

Photo Courtesy of Mani's Musing

Petition Signing Drives me Crazy!

I forgot how much I liked going door to door and speaking to residents. I learn something new each time I let someone tell me their story, and I was able to learn more about the rich tapestry that is Upper Darby.

Tonight, I am not feeling the love at all. Door after door slammed in my face as I tried to get signatures for committee people. The committee people are the ones you go to when your trash STILL hasn't been picked up, or you need the Councilperson or Mayor for an issue. Committee people make it happen.

I need ten frigging signatures per petition. Why is that so hard?

Continuing with Black History Month (I have been so got dang busy this week!) I would like the record to show the following:

Black woman with Cassandra Wilson red locs does not equal Democrat.
Not all Republicans think that the poor choose to be poor or that people enjoy handouts. It's downright degrading to have to sit in the county office and explain why you need something to eat.
Not all Republicans feel like the unemployed are lazy waiting for a handout. As one of the unemployed, I know how discouraging it feels to fill out the application, take that damn test (the one that asks you stuff like would you tell if someone is stealing), you electronically sign, redo your resume because that what all the sites say, then get a thank you but no thank you letter or email - if you're lucky.
These following people were Republican:

Martin Luther King
Mary McLeod Bethune
Frederick Douglass
Carter G. Woodson
Booker T. Washington
Harriet Tubman
Sojourner Truth

Repeat after me: we are not sheep. The right to vote is a privilege. We have the opportunity with a press of a button to make changes in our lives. We need to take this seriously.

My venting comes two fold. Upper Darby has many many steps. And going up and down steps hurts my knee. I can deal with that because it's part of the job. But when my back wants to join in the fun coupled with the rudeness of people...sis is tired. I'm frustrated, I'm annoyed.

We need to learn to vote the ISSUE not the PARTY. We need to vote the PERSON not the PARTY. There are too many people who think they are Ken Rudin (look him up on NPR) or one of the other talking heads that we see on TV. We are not. Just because you started a blog on Blogger and WordPress does not a journalist make. Research your facts. Know who you are choosing to represent you. Know whose face it is that you are saying no and slamming the door in. Listen and hear me. You might hear something new than the same old same old.

Rant/vent over. I implore people to please:

read multiple newspapers daily
watch the news
stomach as much as the opposition as possible (usually a half an hour with snarky tweets is all I can tolerate)
do your research for yourself. Not what Sally Mae from round the way told you her sister heard in the beauty shop. Learn for your self. It's your vote that counts (I didn't win by 22 votes, so yes, EVERY VOTE counts).
Attend community meetings. Sometimes we need something as little as a person taking names for an email list to a person who may know how to design a website, Facebook Page, or blog..
Attendance at Township Council is a must. Why sit and kvetch with your neighbors about lack of (fill in the blank with your complaint) when you have 11 folks voted in office to represent you? Council Meetings are public and held the third Wednesday of every month at 7:30 at 100 Garrett Road, 2nd Floor. Sign in by 7:15 if you wish to address the council with your issue.

Booker T Washington said:

Few things can help an individual more than to place responsibility on him, and to let him know that you trust him.

My favorite quote from Albert Einstein:

"The world is a dangerous place not because of those who do evil but because of those who look on and do nothing.

In street/hood (as my cousin would say):

Don't talk about it, be about it.

Motivational Monday

noreply@blogger.com (Mrs RKFJ) — Mon, 06 Feb 2012 12:56:00 +0000

Photo courtesy of Spunky Aviatrix

‎"The most precious gift we can offer anyone is our attention." Thich Nhat Hanh

Courtesy of Mayor Cory Booker.

Black History Day 3: Open Post

noreply@blogger.com (Mrs RKFJ) — Fri, 03 Feb 2012 13:12:00 +0000

Yes, this is supposed to be a series of posts about Black/African American HISTORY, but I realized that until we come to terms with our past, we'll never be able to move to the future.

My sister wrote an article called The Color Complex for Metro Kids. The subject matter had a small back and forth in the Facebook comment section, but then nothing.

I wrote two days ago about my son's comment on diversifying the Upper Darby Police force and received two comments (one was lost in spam hell) and that was it.

I am not asking for reparations or apologies.

What I'd like is to open the discussion about race. As mom bloggers, we can change the world through a tweet and Facebook post. Why can't we facilitate a mature conversation about changing the way race is viewed in this country?

This past week on Twitter I saw lively discussions about bullying, Susan G Komen being bullied about their donations to Planned Parenthood, and received an invitation to join a Twitter party about transgendered children. If we can let a four year old decide how they will identify themselves, why can't we have a mature discussion about what we can do about racism?

The rules:

Play nice. This is to begin to talk openly about race relations and how we as mothers can use our voices to begin the dialogue. We're adults, we can agree to disagree without making it personal. If you find that the subject is really intense, please continue on your own site. The more we begin to talk openly about race, the sooner we can begin to come together as a United country.

Thank you in advance for cooperation.

Black History Day 2: Zora Neal Hurston

noreply@blogger.com (Mrs RKFJ) — Thu, 02 Feb 2012 21:50:00 +0000

"I have the nerve to walk my own way, however hard, in my search for reality, rather than climb upon the rattling wagon of wishful illusions."

Photo from nndb.com

With Mitt the Git taking the lead in Florida, it's fitting that I write about Zora Neale Hurston. Hurston is best known for the novel Their Eyes Were Watching God. She was a major influence during the Harlem Renaissance.

She was also a Republican.

At the time, most African Americans were Republicans. It was the Party of Abraham Lincoln, signer of the Emancipation Proclamation that ended slavery. However, when Franklin D Roosevelt promised a "New Deal" for America, African Americans flocked to the Democrat Party. Unfortunately, they were disappointed by his performance, particularly his refusal to sign anti-lynching legislation. Hurston wasn't a one party voter. She supported the BEST candidate for office, encouraging participation of her contemporaries in the arts and theater. Hurston was quoted as saying: "It's time for us to cease to allow ourselves to be delivered as a mob by persuasive 'friends' and become individual citizens."

I think Hurston would be furious if she saw the sheep-like mentality of today's voters. She would not like how today's Democrats take for granted that African Americans will all vote straight Democrat. Of course, Republicans then were much different than today's Republican Party. She understood that African Americans are individuals, not a target demographic that will ensure a candidate gets into office.

Hurston understood that while racism unfortunately exists, the real issue is the divide between the Haves and the Have Nots. She recognized that there were some people who worked hard for what they had and that others were "dealing from the bottom and cheating like hell in other ways." A successful writer, she never received the financial equivalent for her work. When invited to speak for prominent politicians, she did not have enough money to make the trip and had to decline the offers. When she died, her neighbors took a collection to bury her. It was until Alice Walker searched for her grave that she received a proper burial marker.

Despite common ground with the Old Right in domestic and foreign policy, Hurston was not a social conservative. The conservatism that Hurston embraced had its roots in racial consciousness. She was aware that the country had a division based on race, but she felt that we were all Americans. When challenged on her politics, she would not back down on her party affiliation, but try to educate those who disagreed with her. She had an affinity for female individualism and a desire to be known as an individual, not take the whole of her race as her responsibility.

I used the following sources for information about the politics of Zora Neale Hurston:

Wrapped in Rainbows: The Life of Zora Neale Hurston (Lisa Drew Books)
The Newly Complicated Zora Neale Hurston by By Glenda R. Carpio and Werner Sollors
Black Libertarian: The Story of Zora Neale Hurston by Marcus Epstein
Why Zora Neale Hurston Was a Conservative by John McWhorter

Thoughtful Thursdays: Guest Post

noreply@blogger.com (Mrs RKFJ) — Thu, 02 Feb 2012 13:50:00 +0000

Today I am pleased to have my first guest post!

My friend, Knittylawyer, Government Name Janeane D, has written about a new device to help her track healthier habits. I don't want to say weight loss, because that seems so overwhelming. Healthier habits imply that a change internal and external is underway.

I Present:
Fitbit Ultra aka Getting Fit a Bit at a Time
by Janeane D

Ok, it’s time to lay the cards on the table. In addition to being a black Christian wife and mother of four, I am overweight. According to my doctor and my children, I need to get in shape fast. My husband of twenty-two years has had fights with me before so his response is always, “Baby, you look good to me. Do what you want to do.” However, it is time to be honest with the woman in the mirror and get moving to a better aka slimmer and healthier me. Recently my husband bought my son an Xbox Kinect 360 for a birthday present and it came with something called fitbit ultra for free. My husband did not know what it was but since it was free, he said order it and it was on.

Photo from fitbit ultra

The fitbit ultra machine looks like a thumb drive for the computer. The box tells you it is a wireless activity and sleep tracker. It boasts, “Track your day. Be more fit.” The machine keeps track of your steps and distance walked, calories burned, stairs climbed, sleep quality and wirelessly uploads to your computer if you get within 15 feet of the computer. I put the fitbit on my waistband and got moving. It immediately began tracking my steps and information as it promised. You may be saying, “Ok, so you have a pedometer on steroids. So?” But it is so much more!

Once you set up your fitbit ultra to communicate with your computer, you log into the website at www.fitbit.com and start logging in information to create a customized program. Every day you have areas to log food intake, physical activity, changes in weight, sleep, your mood, heart rate, blood pressure and glucose levels. You can keep this information private as I have, or make it public. I typed in my current and ideal weight information, which I shall not share here except to say I need to lose 90 pounds.

The fact that I have to log in holds me accountable like nothing else. Most foods are already in the data base, like my Thomas’ cinnamon raisin bagels and Jiff peanut butter. The site keeps a running total of my calories, fat, protein, fiber carbs, sodium and water. If a food I eat is not in the database, I can add it very easily.

I love the ease of use and friendliness of the website. I am learning portion control and good food combinations. These are good habits that will carry me through the rest of my life. I am excited about losing weight. I look forward to exercising so I can log it into the system. According to the plan the fitbit website helped me create, it will take me until December to reach my goal weight. I am excited because by December I will have developed life long habits of eating better and exercising on a regular basis.

It has only been four days, but I am excited and enthused about losing weight and getting in shape like never before. I am working out every other day at the gym. I am faithfully logging my food intake and physical activity into the website. I am working hard, because eating 1600 calories a day looks good on the computer screen. The thought of seeing I have eaten 3500 calories on the screen does not feel good. I like that I can access the log in from my computer, telephone or Kindle Fire. I am working towards getting fit a bit at a time. I’ll follow up with you in 30 days to let you know how things are going.

Janeane can be found caring for her four children, loving her husband, knitting in Starbucks, or blogging at Janeane's World.

Black History Month Day One

noreply@blogger.com (Mrs RKFJ) — Wed, 01 Feb 2012 19:04:00 +0000

Last night, The Boy and I went to a recruitment session for the Upper Darby Police Department. I explained that one of the goals was to diversify the force by having more minorities to represent the changing population.

The Boy asked if it was wise to have Black officers. A curious question, so I asked why he asked THAT. He explained that he didn't feel the whites in the neighborhood would respect officers of color and that the officers would have a hard time trying to do their jobs.

How appropriate that this conversation was the day before the beginning of Black History month. I always felt I had instilled a deep sense of pride in my children, but like any thing that isn't attended to consistently, it falls off the radar. I don't like that my ten year old asked recently what a "Jigaboo" meant and that he understands that a Black officer may have it more difficult than a white officer. I feel that it is my duty to educate both myself and my children about our history. I'm going to post interesting facts about African American/Black History each day this month.

This information was found at The Library of Congress. They do a much more thorough and proper explanation that I planned to do.

February is African American History Month

The Library of Congress, National Archives and Records Administration, National Endowment for the Humanities, National Gallery of Art, National Park Service, Smithsonian Institution and United States Holocaust Memorial Museum join in paying tribute to the generations of African Americans who struggled with adversity to achieve full citizenship in American society.

As a Harvard-trained historian, Carter G. Woodson, like W. E. B. Du Bois before him, believed that truth could not be denied and that reason would prevail over prejudice. His hopes to raise awareness of African American's contributions to civilization was realized when he and the organization he founded, the Association for the Study of Negro Life and History (ASNLH), conceived and announced Negro History Week in 1925. The event was first celebrated during a week in February 1926 that encompassed the birthdays of both Abraham Lincoln and Frederick Douglass. The response was overwhelming: Black history clubs sprang up; teachers demanded materials to instruct their pupils; and progressive whites, not simply white scholars and philanthropists, stepped forward to endorse the effort.

By the time of Woodson's death in 1950, Negro History Week had become a central part of African American life and substantial progress had been made in bringing more Americans to appreciate the celebration. At mid–century, mayors of cities nationwide issued proclamations noting Negro History Week. The Black Awakening of the 1960s dramatically expanded the consciousness of African Americans about the importance of black history, and the Civil Rights movement focused Americans of all color on the subject of the contributions of African Americans to our history and culture.

The celebration was expanded to a month in 1976, the nation's bicentennial. President Gerald R. Ford urged Americans to “seize the opportunity to honor the too-often neglected accomplishments of black Americans in every area of endeavor throughout our history.” That year, fifty years after the first celebration, the association held the first African American History Month. By this time, the entire nation had come to recognize the importance of Black history in the drama of the American story. Since then each American president has issued African American History Month proclamations. And the association—now the Association for the Study of African American Life and History (ASALH)—continues to promote the study of Black history all year.

(Excerpt from an essay by Daryl Michael Scott, Howard University, for the Association for the Study of African American Life and History)

Join me on my 29 day journey through history.

Tangled Tuesday: Super Bowl Madness!

noreply@blogger.com (Mrs RKFJ) — Wed, 01 Feb 2012 13:41:00 +0000

For the knitter who wants to also watch the game, The Tangled Web offers knitters the option to grab some goodeis before the game starts.

Taken from their email (which you can subscribe to here:

Tailgate at The Tangled Web

Superbowl Sunday

February 5, 2012

All Day Savings

Save on everything in the store by choosing your discount out of our "Super Bowl". Bring in a can of "Soup" for donation and increase your discount.

Tailgate Party from
12-4 p.m.

Join us from 12-4 p.m. for our tailgate party. Grab a nosh and sip on a beer while choosing your Superbowl Project. What could be better?
I know....

Freebies!

Come in and make a purchase and your name will automatically be entered to win our "Superbowl Gift Basket" chock full of knitting goodies.

What crafty thing are YOU working on? Add your link below!

Tebow Tuesday Wrap Up

noreply@blogger.com (Mrs RKFJ) — Tue, 31 Jan 2012 12:08:00 +0000

After Sunday, no football for six months! Hopefully Tony Romo will get a little more consistent and Andy Reid will remember he's a coach.

Here's my Best of Tebow Moments. Enjoy!

YouTube Video

- Posted using BlogPress from my iPhone

I see London, I see France

noreply@blogger.com (Mrs RKFJ) — Mon, 30 Jan 2012 12:34:00 +0000

When the Teen was about four, I used to say to her:

I see London
I see France
I see your underpants

This was to help her learn to sit and behave like a lady.

This was also around the time I allowed her to dress herself. We were headed to the park one day, and she bent over to pick up a stick, saying "I bet you don't see any London."

The Teen is living a dream of mine, and I'm doing my darnedest to not live vicariously through her. She got accepted to a 14 day European Tour. She will visit London, Rome, Paris, and Switzerland. So that means I'm selling cookies like it's nobodies business.

Fortunately, this year, cookies sales are steady, despite some interlopers. Nevertheless lugging cases have introduced me to a new ailment: back and severe knee pain.

I used to be able to carry at least four cases at once, bounding up and down steps to set up booths, hawking cookies like an old time newsboy. Now I feel like the Willy Loman of cookie sales, a scratch and dent cookie seller. I can't stand as long as I used to, the cold chills me to my BONES despite the many layers I wear, and my knee swells at the end of the night. I'm exhausted, but like the Little Engine, I keep chugging away.

Social Media has provided me with an opportunity to meet up with a scout leader from Oregon who will send me a case of Thank U Berry Much and Savannah Smiles. #Teamchunk is very happy about that!

As I sell cookies, I have learned that people are a curious bunch. If I had to choose my favorite place to sell it would be anywhere that college students are. There are a few who are contrary just for the Hell of it, and those who are nonconformist because it seems better than trying to fit in, but for the most part, college kids are fun to be around. They haven't had life kick them in the ass yet, and they are supportive (probably because it's their parent's money) and also give great advice to the Teen about future options. Much to the chagrin of the Teen, we have been asked if we are sisters and some express surprise that I am actually her mother.

I also had the opportunity to sell in the subway. The weariness of the people as they pass by my table, or stop to chat for a few moments is sad. They just seem beat up, like Friday can't get there fast enough. But selling in the subway is also entertainment in itself. There's always someone practicing an instrument, usually a saxophone or bucket drum. Around seven, when the rush is over, the homeless come out. Every last one of them asked for a quarter or spare change. (In my Robin Harris voice, What the F*CK is spare change?) What is ONE damn quarter going to do? A quarter, really? What can you get with a quarter? A loosie cost fifty cents!

One of the men had his head cocked to the side, shuffling slowly past the table; another man rapidly stuck his tongue out, sliding his hand in the token machine for any loose change. Still another walked dragging his leg. I kept thinking am I in an audition for the Walking Dead or are they about to do a dancing flash mob to Thriller?

I'm already counting down the days. Truthfully, my hips can't take any more cookies and each year the shenanigans seems to get wackier.

March fourth, I'm waiting for you!

Motivational Monday

noreply@blogger.com (Mrs RKFJ) — Mon, 30 Jan 2012 12:30:00 +0000

Photo courtesy of spunkuaviatrix

Recognizing your faults and actually changing your ways are two different things, Charlie Brown!Lucy Van Pelt

Giveaway: Family Four Pack of Tickets to Atlantic City Boat Show

noreply@blogger.com (Mrs RKFJ) — Thu, 26 Jan 2012 12:52:00 +0000

Who doesn't need a little family time away?

Follow this link Giveaway: Family Four Pack of Tickets to Atlantic City Boat Show to see how you can attend the AC Boat show.

Some of this year highlights include:

New! Take the Wheel at the Boating Simulator: Visitors can take the helm and experience some of the most ferocious (or tranquil) sea conditions at the interactive Boating Simulator, brought to the show by the Annapolis School of Seamanship. Guests can drive boats ranging from cruise ships to coast guard vessels in lifelike boating settings and any weather condition, all shown on three giant flat screens.

New! Meet Famous Teenage Sailing Adventurer, Abby Sunderland: You may not recognize her name, but you know her story. At age of sixteen, Abby Sunderland set sail in a quest to become the youngest solo sailor ever to circumnavigate the globe, only to be thwarted by a rogue wave that left her lost at sea for two days. Visitors can meet Abby, learn the importance of training and faith, and get signed copies of her book, Unsinkable.*

Don't delay, click over now!

* Taken from Philly Fun 4 Kids

Letting Go, Part 6: Mindfulness*

noreply@blogger.com (Mrs RKFJ) — Wed, 25 Jan 2012 15:36:00 +0000

“Gradually, over time, we open on all levels.” - Shiva Rea.

The word "recovery" brings to mind an alcoholic or a substance abuser. It also brings to mind the idea that I am able to survive and go on with a tweaked life after trauma.

One of the ways I've been coping with my malaise is to practice yoga again. I like the way my body feels once I have completed that day's session, and it's a way to carve out a small amount of time for myself. So far I have worked toward my goal of doing Chattaranga Dadasana with little to no pain.

Lately, my mind has began to stray while I'm in seated meditation. The cats, who I normally just incorporate into the poses, are distracting, and if it's a choice between tweeting or doing my evening routine, I can more often than not be found tweeting.

My body also refuses to cooperate. Part of it is that I practice too close to a meal. The other is that I am forcing myself. Yoga is supposed to be about the flow of breath, reaching your intelligent (or limit) edge, and mindfulness.

MINDFULNESS

The practice of mindfulness brings many benefits to emotional and physical health. It's an amazing tool for stress management, and in my case, helps me be a more conscientious driver. I don't text at stop lights or check my email when I'm driving. The idea of mindfulness was a foreign concept, but research led me to see the many benefits. It's an awesome stress management tool, and once I allow myself to accept this change into my life, I see the benefits almost immediately.

I found the following guide on About dot com to make mindfulness a part of my life.

Mindfulness Exercise #1: Meditation

When I meditate, I use two phrases: "So Hum" and "Om" I also have begun to repeat the Serenity Prayer and Psalm 51:10 (Create in me a pure heart, O God and renew a faithful spirit within me." By repeating these words or phrases over and over, I am focused on the words. Meditation is usually five to ten minutes although I have made it to twenty. Over and over as I sit in seated meditation. It's difficult to sit still in the beginning, but once I begin to focus on the words, I saw the benefit of being still and quiet.

Mindfulness Exercise #2: Deep Breathing

Counting to ten as I take deep breaths have kept me off of the kids' ass on more than one occasion. When I am feeling especially tense, I like to play an ocean wave track that is metered. It controls my inhales and exhales and once again, I focus solely on breathing. I breathe in to the beat of the waves and breathe out to the beat of the waves. The sound of the waves cresting take me back to the days when I was a kid and we seemed to LIVE at Wildwood Crest. Queenie would sneak us onto the beach after dark and we would sit and listen to the calming effects of the waves. By focusing on breathing, I am able to bring myself back to wherever I had zoned off. Again, this helps with driving and people who are intent on pissing me off.

Mindfulness Exercise #3: Listening to Music

As much as I love music, this should have been a no brainer. I love musical soundtracks because there is a opening, middle, and solution set to music. I also like classical music because at one time I wanted to play for The Philadelphia Orchestra. I like to play music based on my mood: Amy Winehouse when I'm feeling angry, Jill Scott when I'm feeling sassy, The Hits of the Eighties because my life then consisted of Barbies, Sweet Valley High books, and being a kid. I have a power list when I dress in the morning, my inspirational songs when I get scared, and songs that I like because a note or lyric just touches me so.

Mindfulness Exercise #4: Cleaning House

Right from About.com: The term "cleaning house" has a literal meaning (cleaning up your actual house) as well as a figurative one (getting rid of "emotional baggage," letting go of things that non longer serve you), and both can be great stress relievers!

When my house looks like a tornado has hit it, I can't get it together. When I can't stand it anymore, I start with the papers and the socks that the cat brings from the laundry as a "present" and go from there. Once everything is put away, neat and semi tidy, I can relax. The same with my bedroom. I don't sleep well at all when I lose at closet lotto. I'm constantly misplacing my things, and I have had to shoo the cat OUT of my purse because it was on the floor. Mental clutter is just as bad. Missed appointments, lost ideas, missing phone numbers. I have a smart phone and a Mom Agenda that were just used for games and to brag I had one. Then I learned about blog editorial calendars, had to listen to The Boy kvetch about detention because I forgot to buy a book sock and suffer through eye rolls from the Teen because I forgot she asked for a ride. I accept that I need to write things down, use the calendars that I download, use the to do apps I paid for and stick to it. I had to come to an understanding that schedules and structure don't take away from the carefree attitude I am trying to cultivate. I can still say eff it, let's head to dinner (not Ms Tootsie's though) but I don't have to gobble my meal because I need to be back across the city in 30 minutes. I can enjoy time with old friends, start to work on new relationships. I can also have company at my house without feeling like I'm playing Hide and Seek with my junk.

Mindfulness Exercise #5: Observing Your Thoughts

This is a tough one. I have an inner critic who is a bytch. She tells me my cooking sucks, my knitting is crooked, I don't deserve (fill in the blank...), I yell too much, I curse too much, I smoke too much. Some of it is true (my kids tell me I curse in every sentence), however, looking back through my blog, Facebook post, and the wonderful app Momento, I see that I may not have statues or monuments in my honor, but I have touched others and I live a pretty full life.

I'm trying to adopt an attitude of : will it matter in a year, don't sweat the small stuff, it is what it is, and IDGAF (take a minute to figure that one out). Thoughts are powerful. As much as I think that positive affirmations are a BS, but it's true. What you feel on the inside reflects on the outside. When I'm feeling like I can conquer the world and I am Woman, Hear me ROAR the feeling is contagious. The days when Delores (my inner critic's name) is jawwing, I look and feel haggard. I make those around me miserable and I lose sleep. Watching what I think, and even more, what I say is powerful. The tongue can be a weapon used for good or for evil.

Mindfulness Exercise #6: Create Your Own!
These are other things I do to create an higher level in mindfulness:

The five senses: take the cats. In my cats I have their purring (hearing) their soft fur as I pet them (touch), the way they run to me when they hear my car beep (seeing) their breath leaves something to be desired (smell) and I can't quite find a way to be on their level with taste. But you get my drift.
Journaling is also a great way to keep my thoughts contained. I can reflect in the moment or just vent in a safe place.
Drawing is a way for me to practice mindfulness. I listen to The Moth Podcast once a week to hear the story of Tricia Rose Burt. Her story about her transformation from a corporate bee to an artist is one I use for inspiration when I get discouraged about where I am in life.
Living with intention. Not that every moment has to have a purpose, but LIVE life. STOP existing. And learn to just be in the present.
Acknowledge that there is something to be grateful for each day. I never understood when people use to celebrate little things like tying shoes or getting dressed, but I get it now. Sometimes you're the windshield and sometimes you're the bird.
Last, but not least, SMILE. A smile doesn't cost a thing, and it is a conscious movement. Besides you never know who you touched with that small but powerful gesture.

*This is the sixth in a series of post I am writing about learning to let go of old habits and form new ones. The old me was spiraling way out of control. I am working on being a better me.

WTF Wednesday: Punks Jump up to Get Beat Down!*

noreply@blogger.com (Mrs RKFJ) — Wed, 25 Jan 2012 12:34:00 +0000

The post in which I go HAM and pop off over some damn cookies

In Tebow we Trust...

It's no secret that I go nuts over selling cookies.

It's a love hate relationship:

I love what the cookies represent: money skills, public speaking, presentation, and The Teen traveling through the Destinations program. I hate when I have to lug cases back and forth from my car and to a booth, explaining to people that there is diversity in the scouts. Sexual orientation is not one of the questions that is asked when a girl joins the troop. I also am finding that people have shown less integrity when it comes to cookie sales.

This year's sale started January 19th. Despite my deep desire for frozen Thin Mints during my Once Upon a Time catch up, I honored the code and patiently waited.

On the 17th, my Dad called and asked if I was selling cookies because the woman across the street was already selling.

Not fair, but cheaters never prosper. Plus, selling a box here and there doesn't get us to the goal we set.

Following directions, we contacted the proper people and set up cookie booths throughout the city. My favorite and most prosperous spot, 40th and Walnut was disappointing me. I've NEVER left there with less than 200 boxes sold. The Teen and I shivered in the lobby of The Fresh Grocer, and hawked our cookies.

We noticed that sales were WAY off.

The Teen and I chatted about possible ways to attract customers, and then a guard came by and told us we had competition on the walkway to the grocery store.

Apparently, a family from Jersey decided that they would brave the elements and sell cookies, siphoning off our customers. I was LIVID. We made arrangements for this spot, we got permission from the Girl Scout Council. We formed the relationships at Penn and Drexel so we could return year after year and make our sales.

Annoyed, I stalked out and confronted the other sellers. They didn't get permission and they were WAY out of their area. When I explained in my best Keeping it Real voice, they quickly packed up and rolled out.
To quote Sleeping Beauty:

B*tches be Tripping!

Once I got rid of the phony sellers, a student came by and told us we were selling at a bargain. One of the professors sells cookies for $5.00 a box.

I love Thin Mints and Lemonades, but I don't see myself paying crack prices for cookies.

It's possible this professor is from the Chesapeake area where cookies are that price but who commutes that damn far with cookies?

People, it's cookies. Yes, I love being competitive and watching the numbers rise each time we have a booth. I talk mad trash, but it's just that: trash TALK. Cookies are about integrity, showing the girls that we can and will be honest and moral. That we are fair and we are working hard to a goal.

Unfair cookie sellers sully the spirit of the program, and makes it look like greed instead of a way to help the girls grow.

I'm still going for my 3000 boxes. The Teen missed the deadline for Paris and is talking London and Italy.

Dealing with these other cookie sellers...Bloody Hell!

*title inspired by The Mister

Tangled Tuesday

noreply@blogger.com (Mrs RKFJ) — Tue, 24 Jan 2012 13:00:00 +0000

The snow reminded me that hands get cold, quick! I worked on some mittens that I started EONS ago. It's amazing how fast a thumb will finish during a Beyond Scared Straight marathon:

My knitting had taken a back seat as I work through my anger at the ending of 2011 and learn better coping than to inhale junk food and negative behavior.

I'm learning to walk again.

Baby steps.

What crafty thing are YOU working on?

Add your link below:

Tebow Tuesday #PSMM

noreply@blogger.com (Mrs RKFJ) — Tue, 24 Jan 2012 12:53:00 +0000

Featuring my Philly Social Media Moms!

We attended an event at the SugarHouse Casino hosted by 95.7 BEN FM and Joey Fortman.\

It was a fun evening and I plan to take Queenie to visit the poker tables while I 'check out' the slots.

- Posted using BlogPress from my iPhone

Weekend Rewind

noreply@blogger.com (Mrs RKFJ) — Tue, 24 Jan 2012 04:10:00 +0000

If it's Saturday, it must be...snow!

I'm not a snow person, period. Snow as an adult means digging out parking spots, seeing tacky chairs or cones hold a spot (people, we live in ROW homes! Buy a house with a driveway for guaranteed parking!!!!), and the possibility of sliding into another car while driving.

But Saturday also means scouts. We sent a message to the parents: use common sense. If it's dangerous to you, then stay home. If you can make it, see you at the church.

A handful of scouts showed up and they helped dig out the church. Then we played dance tag and steal the bacon.

A few of my Twitter friends asked why wasn't it cancelled. The Mister and I thought this way:

If this was a JOB, the boys couldn't not come because of snow. They'd have permanent snow days. So why let a little bad weather deter our meeting?

Then we visited the St John Neumann shrine. The Boy has a report due on him and had been asking to go to the shrine. We made the trip and got there in time to attend mass. Mass is different from a funeral. First, it's shorter. Second, there's no incense, and third they do a ~~shake down~~ collection. As I knelt on the pew during the final prayer, I began to cry. I've been tearful a lot since this new year started, but this service touched me in ways I didn't expect. Earlier this week I spoke with a cop who advised me to pray Hail Mary Full of Grace. I did, but felt it was just a mumble of words.

The prayer of St John Neumann opened my heart. I felt a little like George Bailey when he's in the bar praying after Uncle Charlie loses the money and his life seems effed. My life is in a spiral of wackiness, and I feel lost and afraid. Listening to the others around me pray, I was struck by this particular line:

Saint John Neumann, manifest yourself to all who seek your help. Teach us to prefer God in everything we do. Protect us from spiritual and temporal harm. Alleviate sufferings of the poor, the aged and the infirm. Make us realize the importance of truth, humility and patience. Many times you experienced the sorrows of life, and yet you overcame those trials. Show us how to overcome our anxieties and tribulations. We want to grow in faith, hope and love. Never let us forget that we are temples of the Holy Spirit. May we always be worthy of that honor.

I could feel my heart softening a bit. Not much, but more than it has in the last few weeks.

The kids decided to spend part of the afternoon arguing. The Mister and I made a new way to punish them: if The Boy acted up, The Teen got a pop and Vice Verse. This went over not well at all, but it became funny as we chased them through the house to get them for each infraction. THIS was the theme song for the evening, much to the chagrin of The Mister. The kids and I giggled and tried to add our own. (Warning, this page is way gross!).

I helped a friend set up a blog and Facebook Fan Page (please go LIKE it) while the kids played obnoxious amounts of Mario something or other.

Sunday was church! Nothing really stood out this week, but it was good to go anyway.

And of course, we sold cookies.

How was YOUR weekend?

Motivational Monday

noreply@blogger.com (Mrs RKFJ) — Mon, 23 Jan 2012 14:08:00 +0000

It takes courage to grow up and become who you really are.
e.e. cummings

SOCS: Sunday Kind of Love...

noreply@blogger.com (Mrs RKFJ) — Sun, 22 Jan 2012 14:17:00 +0000

Today, Fadra asked us to recall a Sunday morning memory. Since I spilled mine in most of the blogs I commented on, I'll talk about Sunday evening.

Both as a child and an adult this is my favorite time of the week. Dinner has been put away, the kids are preparing for school, The Mister is yelling at the TV because his fantasy football teams are ucking fup, and I'm either knitting, blogging, or just in that content phase that my family is home, safe, and around me.

As a kid, Sundays meant we would go to my grandmother's (she lived a block away) and bum dinner there,, or Queenie would do her best Julia Child and try a new recipe that my sister an I refused to eat. We would get out hair repressed, sometimes Queenie catching ear tips (I wonder if that was in retalitation to us not eating her dinner?) and then we would lay across her bed and watch the Disney movie. My father would be in some sports coma. These were the days before cable, so he'd have the TV playing while he listened to WIP Sports Radio on his little transistor radio.

Even back then, I loved the idea and feeling that my family was close, safe, and secure.

This was my 5 minute Stream of Consciousness Sunday post. It’s five minutes of your time and a brain dump. Want to try it? Here are the rules…

Set a timer and write for 5 minutes.
Write an intro to the post if you want but don’t edit the post. No proofreading or spellchecking. This is writing in the raw.
Publish it somewhere. Anywhere. The back door to your blog if you want. But make it accessible.
Add the Stream of Consciousness Sunday badge to your post.
Visit your fellow bloggers and show some love.

Bloggy Dare Day 21: Impactful Books

noreply@blogger.com (Mrs RKFJ) — Sun, 22 Jan 2012 13:50:00 +0000

I don't think I can narrow down one book as a book that changed my life. There have been so many that I read that made me rethink the way I did things. Plus, I know I've read SO much, I can't possibly remember them all.

Here's a partial list and why:

This Bible not only contains the 12 steps used in AA, but also the eight recovery principles based on the Beatitudes.

There are devotionals based on the Serenity Prayer, The 12 steps or the 8 recovery principles. When I first stumbled across this Bible, I was hesitant. Who REALLY wants to be associated with AA? But once I got past ME and actually saw that I had issues other than substance abuse, this has been a helpful Bible.

Mitch Albom was an annoying guy from the Sunday sport shows the Mister watched. Then the Queen of books, Oprah Winfrey mentioned his book on her show. Not wanting to seem like a sheep I still hesitated to read this book. Once I did, it was a book I read in one sitting. The strength that Morrie shared with Mitch despite his illness was so inspirational. This is a book that allows me to see that it's not always about "ME"

I really should have studied this book before I entered the political arena. But as I read it now, I see that there are things that apply to everyday life in addition to Upper Darby politics.

The Granddaddy of strategy, this book helped when I worked for Bend Over America and Positively No Communication. It also helps when I was in my "Pop Off" stage, this book helped me to see that stealth was a greater asset than showing my cards.

"It p*sses God off to walk past the color purple and not acknowledge it." Suge Avery

"I never asked you for nothing, not even your sorry hand in marriage!" Ceily

This book along with Possessing the Secret of Joy changed how I viewed myself as a woman because it showed me that women are vulnerable but can be strong. Women have a tough outer shell, but sometimes we just need our loved ones around us.

A favorite of The Boy, this is the story of Pooh, a bear of very little brain. Pooh actually has enough heart to overlook this shortcoming. Yes he's gluttonous when it comes to honey, and yes, he can be a bit obtuse, but deep in the hundred acre woods, where Christopher Robin plays, Pooh and his friends offer companionship, lessons, and love.

This was my first introduction to Alice Hoffman. The book captivated me with life in suburbia and the way Nora Silk was able to transform a sleepy town. I likeHere on Earth also, but almost anything Alice Hoffman writes is sure to keep your attention.

Philadelphia native Diane McKinney-Whetstone weaves Philadelphia into her stories. She also creates characters that stay with you long after you finish the last line. I aspire to write better because of her.

I like this book because I listened to this with The Teen as we cleaned her room. It was engaging, and a little spooky, but it was time the two of us spent together.

I cover the plot of the story here, but again, this is a writer who made me want to be a better writer. Talk about weaving a story together. Wow!

In Spanish, Yo means I. It's also the nickname of the main character of this book. The main character never speaks directly to the reader, but those around her observe her actions and how it reflects back to them.

Hail Mary Full of Grace

noreply@blogger.com (Mrs RKFJ) — Sun, 22 Jan 2012 12:08:00 +0000

It was advised that I pray this prayer to try to heal the rift I feel with God. So far, not much has happened. Stay tuned.

Hail Mary, full of grace.
Our Lord is with thee.
Blessed art thou among women,
and blessed is the fruit of thy womb,
Jesus.
Holy Mary, Mother of God,
pray for us sinners,
now and at the hour of our death.
Amen.

- Posted using BlogPress from my iPhone

Say No

noreply@blogger.com (Mrs RKFJ) — Thu, 19 Jan 2012 03:45:00 +0000

Bloggy Dare, Day 18 What's Your Function?

noreply@blogger.com (Mrs RKFJ) — Thu, 19 Jan 2012 03:01:00 +0000

Despite the cat thinking her name was Dammit Mittens for the first six months after we rescued her, I love my cat. However, the above pose is her norm. Occasionally, she can be spotted drinking from the tub, laying with The Mister during Sixers games, or curled up with the Boy at night. The above pose, alas, is the norm for my kitty.

What is the point of having a cat? Our cats usually warn us of bad weather with that crazy running cats do, or wake us when they are hungry.

Fat Mittens, however, seems to take this pose on more days than not.

Weekend Rewind

noreply@blogger.com (Mrs RKFJ) — Wed, 18 Jan 2012 14:12:00 +0000

Three day weekends ALWAYS screw me up. Despite the fact that The Mister and I still cringed over the antics of the people on Intervention, I still get messed up when my week starts with Tuesday.

And I do own a calendar.

Saturday was kind of a downer. A friend and colleague laid her mother to rest. Attending mass at school with The Boy is not the same as attending a funeral. There's way more singing and a whole bunch of incense. Asthmatics, beware.

Tebow was shown what a quarterback REALLY was when Tom Brady whipped up on him and the Broncos. Poor Tebow:

Although I admit as much fun as I make of Tebow, I have become more conscious of the time or I should say lack of time that I spend with God. I'm still having trouble reconciling my relationship with God, but as I discussed this week, did I put as much effort into my relationship with God as I did with (fill in the blank...)

Sunday I took The Boy to church with me, and he managed to stay awake. was church. The Good Reverend Doctor has been on a roll. This week he preached from John 8: 2-11, the title of the lesson "Where are Your Accusers?" The gist of the lesson was about the woman who had been accused of adultery and the men who wanted to stone her for her crimes. In our lives, there are two types of people: Net Casters or Stone Throwers. Jesus was/is a net caster. He cast out for lost souls, hurt hearts, and broken souls. Stone Throwers are the opposite. They like to remind you of how you USED to be, or grab on to a mistake and not let you forget that you are human. Like the men ready to stone this poor woman, stone throwers bend make the law bend for themselves rather than bend themselves for the law. His point was that we ALL mess up. But Christ doesn't condemn, He forgives. That was deep stuff.

Sunday afternoon the kids and I made videos. I promised I wouldn't post them because as they both say "Does EVERYTHING have to go on your blog?! GOD!!!" The videos were us fooling around, having fun. The cats even joined in the action.

Monday, Mittens discovered something that fascinates her more than sneaking out of the house: the flushing of the toilet.

Which led to a round of:

After shooing the cat from the bathroom...privacy much? We headed downtown with The Cubs to do our MLK day of service at the African American Museum in Philadelphia. This place has changed TREMENDOUSLY since I last visited and I am definitely going back to peruse the exhibits. They had a scavenger hunt to expose the children to the museum, then showed a brief but powerful film about the life and work of Martin Luther King.

As a child, MLK day meant coloring a picture of him, writing the words "I have a dream." and hearing about the bus boycott. We were woefully under taught. Yesterday, I had an a-ha! moment as I watched the film and all that he accomplished.

The feelings I have I KNOW will not do justice in a weekend rewind. So I will definitely do a dedicated post to what I learned. What struck me was how enslaved we still are as a people, as a nation.

Let me add some levity.

Here's the Phillie Phanatic in his funky costume. The Phillies charge TOO much not to be able to afford some damn Febreeze. He was funky, not Chaka Kahn funky, but I need some air funky:

The Phanatic trying to kiss me. Unless it was Ryan Howard in that suit, no thanks.

Sleeping Beauty showed how she spent the rest of her evening:

Poor Liliana...

And how was YOUR weekend?